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ryanmeft · 7 months

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Movie Review: The Marvels

This is Ms. Marvel’s house, and everyone else is just a tenant. The latest MCU outing is the lowest point of the franchise to date, with a muddled and poorly-explained plot, two wooden leads, an underutilized villain, and entirely too much MCU advertising. At a brisk 105 minutes, it is somehow both overstuffed and rushed. So how, then, can I say you should see it? Two words: Kamala Khan.

It is thirty years after the original Captain Marvel. Carol Danvers (Brie Larson) lives on a spaceship and seems to hold down a job as a galactic peacekeeper-ambassador, though how this keeps food on the table is unclear. Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson), also residing in space but on a massive station, sends Monica Rambeau (Teyonah Parris) out on missions to investigate…something. This something, which looks kind of like the way movies always portray event horizons, is a strange disturbance in space that can A: cause wormholes, B: be used as a source of power for the villain and C: make it so that the movie’s three heroines swap places whenever they use their powers. It’s a cosmic maguffin working overtime.

This plot is, to be kind, a mess. The Space Something causes Danvers and Rambeau to swap places with each other and Kamala Khan (Iman Vellani), lead hero in the Disney+ show Ms. Marvel. As the characters swap powers, they shift between Kamala’s home, Danvers’ spaceship, Fury’s space-station and various other planets, including an intriguing one where everyone speaks in song. None of these feel like any more than pit-stops for the plot, and we constantly wish the film would pick one or two and focus on those. So, too, does Zawe Ashton’s villain get slighted. Superhero movies usually deal in uncomplicated maniacs, and Ashton’s Dar-Benn bucks that trend, with a legitimate reason to be pissed off at the hero. This reason is done away with in a flashback and never explored as a deeper part of the character. Like Thor: Love & Thunder, the movie could have benefited from slowing down and taking more time to establish its villain as a person.

Let’s leave aside the plot for a moment, though, and discuss the young woman named Kamala. For those who watched the show Ms. Marvel, no introduction is necessary. For those who didn’t, she’s a teenager in Jersey City who inherits light-bending properties from a time-traveling gauntlet inherited from her grandmother. Her powers are less important than her personality, for she ends up being the glue that barely holds a confused and dull film together. Played by newcomer Iman Vellani, she has that Spider-Man energy, bringing an enthusiasm and seemingly effortless charm to every scene she steals.

She also happens to be a massive fan of Danvers, yet Vellani knows how to hold back and let her enthusiasm build rather than just running up and spouting a one-liner. Her expressions, body language and every line of dialogue are perfect for the character, which is good, because the film desperately needs her. Larson and Parris never manage to generate any individual sympathy from the audience, and spend all their non-Kamala time dryly reciting details of the impossible-to-follow plot or making bland promises of heroism. At one point, when CM must reduce herself to tears over having accidentally done a very bad thing, it’s obvious Larson is forcing the waterworks, and when Parris must confront a vision of her deceased mother (Lashana Lynch), her reactions are right out of summer stock.

Vellani’s only credits so far are all playing Ms. Marvel, but if the universe loves us, she will be a star long after the MCU has finally crumbled to dust. She and Jackson are the only ones on screen who seem even dimly aware of how silly this all is, and they treat it all like a game. You can’t say the movie doesn’t have some clue what the audience wants, because in the best non-Kamala moment it multiplies the previous film’s mutant alien cat into dozens. I won’t tell you why the film needs these cats, but does it matter? An alien mutant kitten is its own reward. To get that reward, you need to have watched several TV shows and movies (I won’t say which ones, to avoid spoilers), and the film often feels like homework that most people forgot to do.

Once we’re done with the nonsense plot, the rolled-over-and-died dialogue, the emotionally hollow acting and constant pushy references to the larger MCU, we know only one thing: Ms. Marvel needs her own movie. She’s already left this one in the dust.

Verdict: Average

Note: I don’t use star ratings. Here are my possible verdicts:

Must-See

Highly Recommended

Recommended

Average

Not Recommended

Avoid Like the Plague

#movies #disney #the marvels #iman vellani #brie larson #samuel l jackson #teyonah parris #zawe ashton #superheroes #comic books

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ncfan-1 · 8 months

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Been thinking more about some details of my head canon world-building in To the Limits of Your Choice as I continue outlining it, and I’ve gotten to be a little obsessed with the idea of Crests in their function as blood alien to normal human bodies and anatomy, something that doesn’t always function in a way that is to the physical benefit of their bearer, but that perhaps a little bit of the originating Nabatean’s consciousness is still alive within that blood, within that Crest, and that the way things work out is dependent on the circumstances by which the human forebearer first received the blood and the Crest to begin with.

Cethleann, I head canon as having widely propagated her own Crest throughout the War of Heroes by giving doses of her blood to dying soldiers in order to heal them. It was a gift freely given for no reason other than altruism, and thus the bearers of her Crest rarely experience anything truly detrimental, but there are still certain… effects that make themselves known from time to time. And as Cethleann spent roughly a thousand years in a deathlike sleep as she recovered both from the injuries she suffered at the Battle of Tailteann and from the effects of giving away far, far too much of her blood in that same battle. As her strength waned and she edged closer and closer to the abyss of deathlike sleep, so too did the blood she offered to dying soldiers change in character.

Linhardt is descended from one of those she saved with her blood at Tailteann, and it shows on him sometimes. Being inclined towards healing magic makes him well-suited for Cethleann’s Crest, but he does have certain… symptoms from time to time when the Crest’s power manifests while he’s using healing magic. He can get to be a bit disoriented or it can go as far as him having a bit of an out-of-body experience and feeling mentally untethered from his surroundings, but it rarely lasts longer than a moment, and it’s never painful: the most it does is break his concentration, and deeply unsettle him.

Indech granted his blood to champions who could successfully pass his trials. It was blood willingly given, but always given to warriors, with the assumption that its bearers will often be in battle. Meanwhile, in the present-day, though Bernadetta is certainly jittery as a result of the abuse heaped upon her by her father, but some of her anxiety is due to her Crest at work in her blood, making her hyper-aware of her surroundings, hyper-aware of potential threats—and the anxiety from all of that childhood trauma makes her interpret damn near everything as a threat, and some of the speed with which she runs is due to the Crest at work in her blood, speeding her away from what her mind perceives as a threat. Hanneman, a scholar who is rarely on the battlefield, sometimes has to spend hours at a time pacing in his office to work out ridiculous amounts of excess energy—but when he does take to the battlefield, he never grows tired, and is never weary after battle: indeed, the first few days after a battle are the only times he never finds himself afflicted with that excess energy. And Linhardt’s mother, whom I head canon as possessing a Minor Crest of Indech, who never takes to the battlefield, and never provides the Crest in her blood with any outlet, finds her hands often afflicted with painful spasms when she tries to write.

And then there’s Ingrid with the Crest of Daphnel, the Crest of Daphnel which was obtained by Daphnel by way of murdering the Nabatean originator and defiling their corpse for their blood and the bone which made Lúin. Like all of those who bear the Elites’ Crests, when Ingrid feels the power of her Crest flow through her, it’s not a pleasant experience. Just as I head canon Dimitri’s struggles not to break things thanks to the monstrous strength that is part of his inheritance of the Crest of Blaiddyd as the defiled Nabatean blood in his veins rebelling against his flesh, I head canon Ingrid experiencing more than a small amount of pain whenever the Crest of Daphnel manifests its power. At best, it’s moderately painful, and at worst it’s agony of a kind that makes her feel as though her very blood is on fire within her veins—and yet, she can still think clearly, even in the midst of this agony.

The pain the descendants of the Elites experience in some greater or lesser degree whenever their Crests manifest is not a secret to the nobility. Rhea spun the story that it is a reminder from the Goddess that the descendants of the Elites must wield their power responsibly after the Elites fell to warring in the wake of Nemesis’s death (again, her cover story to explain why all of the Elites died not too long after the war), but she is privately pleased to know that the descendants of those who drank the defiled blood of her dead kin will never be entirely comfortable with that blood running through their veins. There’s the idea that this pain is holy, sanctified, when it’s spoken of at all, anyways—for the most part, it’s become background noise to the nobility, and they rarely speak of it at all.

Like a lot of people (at least, I think), I head canon Flayn as being half-human. I think it plays a part in why the Agarthans abducted her in particular; because she is half-human, her Crest is much more easily transmissible than that of her full-blooded Nabatean kindred, and takes hold in human bodies with ease. I head canon her Crest as running extremely true in her descendants, using Hanneman’s assertion that there are others beside her who bear the Major variant of her Crest (Major Crests seem to be extremely rare in Fódlan these days, so for there to be several people who bear the Major Crest of Cethleann that Hanneman can think of just off the top of his head feels significant) as a support, and it has a reputation as being a “devourer” of other Crests. If someone who bears another Crest marries someone who has the Crest of Cethleann, their children will almost always inherit Cethleann’s Crest, rather than the other parent’s, or the Crest of an ancestor further up in the family tree. This, too, may be Cethleann’s will at work within her blood, at least the will that was hers when she gave her blood to those she would—to heal those who are descended from those who received her blood by purging their bloodlines of other Crests, especially those of the Elites.

A lot of people have pointed out the significance of Ingrid’s surname being Galatea, and the parallels between her story and that of the Galatea of Greek myth, but something I don’t see discussed quite so often is the potential etymological significance of the name ‘Daphnel,’ whose Crest she bears. Daphnel, I think, most likely ultimately derives from Daphne, who in Greek myth was a naiad who was unwillingly pursued by Apollo, and persuaded her father to turn her into a laurel tree in a bid to escape Apollo’s advances.

In To the Limits of Your Choice, Ingrid has her canonical backstory of having been engaged to Glenn at a very young age, and spending the intervening years between the engagement and Glenn’s death being told that her greatest purpose in life was to love him and become his wife. And as we know, Ingrid’s paralogue involves her only narrowly avoiding being abducted by a man who intended to forcibly marry her. In the post-game sections of the fic, she has escaped all possibility of being married against her will by estranging herself from her family and becoming a knight, a typically masculine role. As Daphne altered her nature in order to avoid unwanted advances, Ingrid has discarded the role society intended her to play to avoid an unwanted marriage. It’s not as extreme as Daphne’s transformation, but it is still a transformation.

Ingrid is someone I consider as having an alienated, downright wounded relationship with her femininity. Forcing herself into traditional femininity doesn’t make her happy—and neither does trying to force herself into traditional masculinity. A clean transformation, one clean choice on either side of the (false) dichotomy, is not something that can ultimately make her happy.

#To the Limits of Your Choice #ncfan's writing process #head canon #Fire Emblem Three Houses #Fe16 #Ingrid Brandl Galatea #Linhardt von Hevring

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kissbentennyson · 2 years

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Hi! I hope your having a great day! How do you think Ben would react to someone confessing to him? Specifically reader who he has had a crush on and is also half alien so they know about his secret (they/them).

-🌠 anon

I don’t write for Alien Force, so I made the actual confession part during Ultimate Alien. Also, I like to over-explain and ramble, soooo…

Being Confessed to by a Half Alien Crush

Ben Prime! x reader head canons | readers gender is not mentioned.

⚠️!Trigger warning!⚠️: Skin picking mentioned.

The two of you met before he defeated the highbreed, you had a few classes together but rarely spoke- however, that didn’t last long. Your dad, who passed well enough as a human with some technological assistance, is active in a lot of alien communities where news spreads fast. You’d overheard conversations between your dad and mom- or his buddies- but didn’t really put two and two together until you were accidentally put in the middle of a fight. Your dad is a peaceful man, but did not hesitate to teach you how to defend yourself and others in the ways he and his people do. So when this happened, you were able to protect yourself, but not without outing yourself.

To your surprise, they took it very well. You were greeted kindly, and you were able to explain everything without any anger. Which, you completely expected the opposite. You and Ben hit it off really quickly, especially when they were nice enough to drive you home and the two of you were in the back seat of Kevin’s car.

The two of you kept in contact, he’s a little flakey when it comes to hanging out- but you put in the effort. Whether it’s actually going out to do something fun or hanging around either of your places- it’s always pretty fun. You’re always really fun and you have enough energy to keep up with him without, like, complaining about it or him. On that same note- You don’t find him or his interests annoying, or get angry when he has to dip or cancel because of hero/plumber stuff.

It’s safe to say that he developed a crush on you pretty quickly. However he is garbage at noticing the subtle signs that someone likes him, so he is completely oblivious to your feelings.

If you have inherited abilities or physical traits from your father, he thinks it's so cool. With all the caution you were raised with, you would have expected him to be put off by it, but he wasn’t at all. Even if it’s not something that would be conventionally attractive, he thinks it’s really cute cool.

Even so, there was the fear of you getting hurt because of him, even with your heritage and knowledge on self defense. So, he swallows his feelings and the two of you remain friends which is increasingly hard to do the more you see each other- but he doesn’t want to just shut you out!

When his identity is eventually revealed to the world, it gets a lot harder for the two of you two hang out- Hell, he can barely hang out with Gwen and Kevin without being swarmed by cameras. Of course the separation makes it a little easier to deal with his crush on you, but he’s really bummed out that you two can’t hang out as often. You feel the same way, but it’s not being followed around by reporters or someone trying to get paid by taking unsolicited photos- you can deal with that- but it worries your parents to high hell. So you even had to distance yourself, which really hurt.

Ben had become one of your closest friends, and you’d be damned if you hadn’t developed feelings for him. I mean, who in their right mind wouldn’t? You two saw each other less often as time passed, but tried to make time to text or something. Eventually you became tired of waiting and pretending that you didn’t have feelings for him whenever you saw each other. So, you made the decision to tell him the next time you had the chance to hang out.

It started with a text.

“Hey, are you free today?”

And now you’re sitting with him, in his car, just hanging out. These were always your favorite types of Hangouts, just parked somewhere talking about what had gone down since the last time you two saw each other. You liked listening to him go on about the things he had done since. There were always elaborate stories about him saving the planet, or the galaxy from threats- which was followed up by you sharing more drama and domestic things. It always helps to remind you of how big the universe is and that there's more out there, and you always seem to help ground him or to help deflate his ego a bit.

This was no different, but this time, once you two had both finished each of your catch ups and faded into silence… You knew what you needed to do. However, you were painfully nervous, for obvious reasons. You were picking at your fingernails and peeling away at the skin of your bottom lip with your teeth, a nervous habit you have. Pretty much everyone you are close to knows about it, what it means, and when to intervene because you don’t really seem to notice. What finally got you out of your nervous daze was him gently pulling at the cuff of your sleeve, trying to pry one hand from the other.

“Hey, is something up? You seem pretty nervous.”

You were, it was obvious you were. (To be fair, he is a little bit as well.) You give a short nod before your teeth stop their crusade on your lip. “Yeah, actually… I have something to tell you.” You felt your chest tighten and you started to regret it a little bit. His express turns into a neutral nerious one, enveloping the concerned one he had on prior. With how nervous you seem, He first assumes that you’re in danger. Only for that to be very wrong.

“Okay, here goes nothing… I really like you- Like, like, like you. I’ve had a crush on you for a while, and I thought that it would be best to tell you because pretending like I didn’t really bothered me.”

You let out a huge sigh afterwards, the feeling of weight on your chest seemed to be mostly gone. Looking away, you feel embarrassment fill you as his jaw- quite literally- drops. It was quiet for a while, and you felt yourself lean away from him, against the car door. You started to prepare yourself for the end of the friendship as you heard him gently say your name. “I-” He felt this hard lump form in his throat, and it felt like he couldn’t speak. The confusion had cleared, but he felt excited and nervous. His shoulders go slack, turning and facing the wheel instead. “I like you too.” You look up from your lap and straight to him.

He’s so confused. First, He was not expecting anything close to this magnitude to be dropped on him today. Second, he was so sure that you didn’t like him back.

Like, this can’t be real, right? There’s no way this was real, you don’t like him back… right? Well, obviously, wrong.

He took you home soon after because neither of you had thought what to do afterwards- neither of you had ever thought the other would feel the same, so why would you think about it? Neither of you were ever supposed to confess, but here you both are.

He honestly doesn’t know what to do, it was so abrupt. He spills everything to Gwen and Kevin. To which he is quickly brought to the conclusion of how stupid it was for him not to ask you out- also, Gwen bringing to light how you must feel. Having spilled your guts first, only to have it reciprocated, but then having no word afterwards. You must be so confused! (Hint hint, she’s right.) After that, she actually reaches out to check on you.

You two didn’t speak or see each other for two days afterwards, until the both of you coincidentally ended up at a Mr. Smoothies at the same time. Totally no interference from Gwen. None. (/s)

You went over to and asked to talk to him, to which Gwen and Kevin were suddenly gone. The conversation was long and even consisted of both of your humors. It even started to feel like you two were just hanging out. You both explained everything you could and came to be comfortable with how things progressed. So, in short…

You asked him out.

#proship dni #ben 10 x reader #ben tennyson x reader #ben prime x reader #half alien! reader

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ebachan · 2 years

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SCU - Shadow The Hedgehog

Hi,

Well, the post-credit scene was wild! And I won’t say more. Read my analysis under the cut to get all the spoilers and crazy ideas :-)

@welcome-to-green-hills @aawesomepenguin @movie-robotnik-positivity You guys are full of ideas, and it’s great to talk with you. Also, tell me if you don’t want to be tagged by me 😅😅

While I expected Metal Sonic, I’m super happy with Shadow, for obvious reasons. They might have been considering him because of Jim Carrey’s possible retirement. I’m sure he talked about it with them during the filming. And the other reason may be a simple model for Shadow, whose is based on Sonic, so his final form will change. We can surely expect more fluff around the neck and over the chest. We may also get “red quills” through his black ones.

We start with the pod being lifted from the ground like a reactor. Everything around is covered by ice. That means he is somewhere with sub-zero temperature, like Antarctica. It would make a sense since there aren’t many people, and in case of his escape, he would have nothing but harsh and freezing environment surrounding him. It’s a perfect place to hide and imprison an alien or top secret government experiment.

Then we get a panning look at his body inside the ice covered pod. His limbs and body are chained by thick shackles. Definitely made from the most durable metal on Earth. It’s a proof they deemed him too dangerous, but humans, researches, or military had no means of killing him. Take a note of his inhibitor rings.

Everything is also clad in red light, giving this scene an eerie atmosphere. I bet the facility is still running and in “working” shape.

Then we get a close up to his face. I like how his “eyeliners” are more visible. His head quills are corresponding with his game model, so there is nothing to point out. We can see the special quills Sonic and Knuckles have to unleash their powers.

When he opens his eyes, we can see something is reflected in them. To me, it seems it’s that ice covering the glass. But I wonder if there will be something else in the movie. But the most exceptional aspect of this is how his eyes lit up!! It’s not just that they glow, there are sparks dancing across them!

We all know Shadow has extended chaos abilities, using them to teleport and fire materialized energy in a shape of spears. My guess is this shows that ability. Since I haven’t noticed Sonic or Knuckles to do it. We can say Shadow has a stronger affinity with chaos.

But this scene has TWO more details that caught my eye. Let’s dive right into them.

1) The female soldier talked about “Black Site”. That means that place was illegal! So the government nor military was fully involved. Only some really influential people knew about this place. Perhaps even the USA president at that time.

2) They found the coordinances during their Robotnik purge. It doesn’t mean Robotnik knew about this place. But if he did, could he perhaps time Shadow’s release?

She also talks about “someone”. Which is obvious, because she doesn’t know who it was, and it leaves the door open for a revelation. But this someone can’t be Dr. Robotnik. But he can still be involved.

Let’s say his grandpa is Gerald. And he was part of the Black Site team, researching Shadow (But he isn’t their creation. It just doesn’t click with the movie-verse.). Something huge happens, and the laboratory is shut down. Many people there died or even all of them. Either by the hand of Shadow before he was put into deep-sleep, or by soldiers doing a “clean up”.

Now, Gerald was already 60+, and he had a single child. But they did not know what happened to their father aside from dying in a lab accident. However, they inherited the intellect, and so found about Project Shadow and the truth. For that, they were killed as well alongside their husband/wife and perhaps other relatives. The only one alive is Robotnik as a baby, too small to be any witness.

And that’s would be how he could become an orphan. I imagine the government still monitoring him, just in case, and later taking him under their care once he showed his genius. They could also believe all data about Project Shadow were purged, but either Robotnik’s grandfather or father could hide it. Perhaps for somebody to discover it and revealing this dirty secret to public?

This could play well and still fit well with movie-verse and tie the “rub it in an orphan’s face” remark from Dr. Robotnik.

So, what do you think? Could this work? Let me know. Reblogs and likes are highly appreciated <3

Please, tag this with #spoiler, #spoilers, #sonic 2 spoilers, and so on ;-)

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic movie 2 #sonic movie 3 #shadow the hedgehog #dr. robotnik #dr. eggman #jeff fowler #jim carrey #sonic theory #movie theory #sonic 2 spoilers #spoilers #spoiler #sonic movie spoilers

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enchanted-lightning-aes · 2 years

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An Eager Keeper

A/N: here’s a story with a supporting character from my untitled sci-fi slice of life-ish concept, which isn’t a wip yet. also featuring a not-so ordinary creature too.^^

Word Count: 674

TW: None

***

If there's a manual for how to keep a pet calm, she'd buy a copy of it. It can save her from unpleasant situations.

Such as now. . . for bring dragged into an impromptu race.

Ducking her head, Rebrie lets a hover-boarder pass, and she continues on leading her pet to their usual hang-out place. Quaint Brews Cafe is where Rebrie spends most of her downtime at. If she isn't busy with . Some of her appliances had to be repaired, and she hired repair people for it. She had to get out of her house though, because they can't afford any distraction.

So, she took out her pet, Darlie, who's a round furry creature resembling a kitten, for a walk.

Little did she knew it wasn't going to be just a walk.

Her puffball pulled the leash, moving towards another side of the pavement. She let out a startled noise, shuffling her feet while trying to find her footing.

"Whoa! Slow down!" Rebrie's steps increase with Darli's quick pace. "Hey, this isn't a marathon!"

Darli leads her to a familiar direction, which blurs of how fast she's running.

Her foot catches on a welcome mat as a wall hits her forehead. She groans, shaking her head, and pressing a palm over it. She opens a door, entering. A warm smell enters her nose, close to letting her almost drop onto a nearest chair.

At least, she managed to get here, so it's not all bad.

"Hey, what's going on?" Teanne asks, sounding concerned.

Rebrie grimaces, taking a seat on an empty booth.

"It's just my pet," Rebrie explains with a sigh. "She can be so hyper, which can be cute and a problem at once. I had to do a long run, because she wanted to chase a delivery guy. Who was minding his own business, sending supplies to a restaurant. One of these days, she has to realize they aren't bad guys."

"Ouch, that sounds stressful. Are you alright?" Teanne's voice turns high-pitched.

"Just a little dizzy, but I'm doing fine."

"Aren't puffballs supposed to be. . . domesticated? I'm aware it's not the case for everyone, I'm just slightly surprised."

"Darli can go. . . out of control, sometimes."

"It sounds stressful, Reb."

Loosening her hold on the leash, she lets her puffball float.

"Nah, it's not too much. If she doesn't hurt herself, it's alright."

"Okay, I see." Teanne smiles, adjusting her apron. "I gotta get back to kitchen duties, so I'll see you later."

Rebrie scrunches her face before waving at her.

She looks at Darli, whose wagging her tail slowly, and staring up at a danging decoration.

All puffballs had potential to transform into a different animal. In Darli's case, she'll grow into a cat once she's three years old, which is a year later.

Strangely enough, she inherited most characteristics of a golden retriever. Friendliness, eagerness, affectionate, and hyper. If she gets tired, she'll plop down at her sleeping spot. If she's full of energy. . . well, she's bound to do whatever she wants. Like a cat, she's also demanding, hard-headed, and slightly causes more annoyance than an actual dog.

Yeah, it gets rough for Rebrie, but she can handle one puffball. And it's less of a hassle than a bird or hamster.

Here at LeGloss Sivena, it's hard to adopt an actual non-hybrid animal. Because they're a rare species and there's an abundance of animals with DNA, which lets them turn into another one. Since more aliens and different creatures traveled here, it caused a major change, which impacted Earth.

At first, she hesitated on adopting a hybrid until she found Darli. In an animal shelter, looking for a home. So, she started to raise her and treat her as her own pet. A companion to hang-out with, and it's all fun despite how wild it gets.

What could be way better than having a furry friend? Especially a playful, loyal friend, who has her back. They make great companions and roommates than most humans, in Rebrie's humble opinion. No doubt about it.

#writeblr #creative writing #flash fiction friday #fff39 #enchant: original works

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venom-inside-you · 3 years

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ommmgggg just read that ask ! give us more symbiotic powers during sex Head Canons !

Okay! Y’all asked for it! I am sorry but also not sorry if this is not coherent to anyone else but me but I have a lot of thoughts so this is long, again Nonnie you asked for this. I’m also on mobile and it would be a pain in the ass to put a read-more so sorry about that as well!

(Please note mun has only seen the movie and read a few snippets of the comics regarding Venom so these are completely made up out of mun’s mind and not part of any universe except my own lololol. I also refer to Venom as he/him.)

Symbiote Powers During Sex - Head Canons!

-Before we talk about anything else!!!!! Venom’s species reproduce asexually, so he does not inherently understand copulation between humans nor does he understand the pleasurable aspects of sex. He has Eddie’s memories but that is not the same (will explain later) and understands that is how Earth is populated, but regularly scolds Eddie for being weak to others’ sexuality and needing the human connection in order to survive, constantly criticizes humans for being overly-emotional life forms. Eddie has also not had sex or has had daydreams or wet dreams about having sex with Venom.

-Let’s talk about long distance. This symbiote can stretch out pretty far from Eddie’s body so if his partner/SO/lover/whatever is in another room entirely, small tendrils or even larger tentacles can be used to do whatever.

-Speaking of what the tendrils, tentacles can do, here’s a few suggestions: licking, sucking (with little suction cups like an octopus), biting, tugging, vibrating!!! You name it, Venom can probably do it and with more than one tendril/tentacle at a time.

-Don’t even get me started on texture!! But let’s— Venom’s mass is cool and slick to the touch, but not sticky or too goopy. He does produce a substance so that in his constant shape-shifting, he doesn’t create too much heat from the friction so this could be used as a sexual lubrication. He also produces saliva that is similar to the lube but thicker and a little more sticky. ANYWAY, these tendrils/tentacles can be ribbed, bumpy, ultra smooth, and textured after a real penis (most likely Eddie’s but he’s been in other humans before Eddie so it might sorta be an amalgamation of multiple) among other textures I haven’t even mentioned!

-Foreplay (long distance or not) - tendrils and tentacles EVERYWHERE. Humans (usually) have two hands and two arms— Eddie can only do so much!! But Venom can do anything, literally anything with whatever amount of mass he’d like to use. Multiple tendrils can come together to make one tentacle or one tentacle can be split into multiple tendrils depending on the partner(s) pleasure— yes I said multiple, we’ve got a poly-alien on our hands. The more the merrier but Eddie gets tired so keep that in mind. This also means that he can fashion himself (or even Eddie’s member 👀) after all of those sick-looking Bad Dragon-esque dildos (more on that later).

-Sex can be as spontaneous or as regular as Eddie and the partner(s) and Venom want it to be, but Venom can read Eddie’s mind (and vice versa, sorta) so if Eddie thinks of something Venom may not even hesitate to go ahead and do it. Consent is always key of course!!!

-First time with a partner(s), Venom will most likely stay in the background of Eddie’s mind to experience it happen in real time. He has access to all of Eddie’s memories but it’s something else entirely to be feeling the actual act rather than watching it. Symbiotes are really observant, which gives them the ability to make quick decisions to get the upper hand, so this translates over to sexual acts.

-For Eddie’s sake, Venom prefers if the partner asks or allows Venom to participate. Venom may get more touchy-feely with the partner(s) as time goes on if the physical aspect hasn’t been introduced yet.

-Eddie is up to try anything once. Venom will do anything without hesitation, which could lead to some negative sexual experiences for either side or both if it isn’t handled right.

-To piggy-back off that, Venom does not understand aftercare. In the beginning, if Venom is too rough, Eddie is the one that has to do the aftercare. It may cause some tension between him and Eddie and the partner(s), but more conversations about what’s expected is always a healthy way to approach boundaries and future sexual endeavors! Soon he’ll start to get it, but it will be rough going at first.

-Once a boundary/sexual relationship has been established, Venom will become possessive of said partner(s). He will also touch the partner(s) in public where he knows he won’t get caught and if the partner(s) get into a position where others want to possess the partner(s), Venom will then mark the partner(s) in a place so that others know that they belong to him. And Eddie.

-Venom has observed Earth animals and their mating behaviors (either through personal experience or watching the Discovery channel while Eddie’s sleeping), so he knows that humans do not have a mating season. He does not experience heats or ruts but can pick up on human’s fluctuation hormones and pheromones enough to know when someone is aroused.

-Does Venom orgasm? Yes, I think he does. Just like a xenomorph, I HC that Venom inherits traits from the beings he has been in before. Being in Eddie for so long, he would then adapt the ability to orgasm. When he does, his mass shifts like it does when he hears higher frequencies (see the scene with the airplane and the MRI machine) and he gets a bit feral.

-Does Venom ejaculate? As a symbiote, no. But when he decides that he wants to, he uses Eddie’s cum (whether or not he has to manipulate Eddie’s body to produce more), but this also means that if he has sex with a fertile partner, that baby(ies) will not have symbiotes in them in utero. In order for baby to have a symbiote, he would have to make one but that’s a long story.

-Am I getting a little too lost in the woods here? Maybe I should rapid-fire a few to get my brain straight

-Venom can pin the partner down by any body part and basically anywhere. Weight and size don’t even matter in this context, and Y’ALL HE DOESN’T CARE ABOUT YOUR CHUBBY PARTS OR ANYTHING YOU HAVE INSECURITIES ABOUT. GENDER ALSO DOESN’T MATTER AT ALL. Whatever he can tease to pull another moan out of you is exactly what he wants.

-He can also LIFT YOU IN THE AIR. I REPEAT— LIFT YOU UP IN THE AIR AND USE YOU AS A FLESHLIGHT. For multiple holes as well.

-Biting— lots of biting. Can draw blood (again, see boundaries) from the body and clean you up afterwards.

-Breath play, choking, blood play, knife play (like he can draw blood from you himself), whipping (think about all those textures!), etc

-If he has too much energy and he can’t use it all on you because he knows he can snap you like a twig, his tendrils can crack like whips around him so don’t be scared! He’s just really excited.

-THE TONGUE. I guess I have to explain this one a little bit but just imagine his tongue as whatever you want it to do, just like the tendrils and the tentacles. Wrapped around a clit, vibrating, corkscrewed around a cock and balls, etc

-Saliva literally everywhere. He doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut.

-He may not talk to the partner much but when he does, it’s usually very like proper and straight-forward. As in “You may orgasm now” or “We can feel that you are close to your peak” etc

-PET NAMES. He likes calling you Little One

-Pet names for him? He prefers being called Venom because like duh that’s his name and he doesn’t understand the pet name at first. Whatever the partner(s) is/are comfortable with calling him, he will respond to it after a while. Maybe even get an ego boost from it.

-Is there anything he doesn’t like to do? YES. Vore— sorry y’all. Even if the partner can regenerate, that’s not something I as a writer am comfortable with writing. In other universes, maybe.

Okay so I’m going to stop there or I’ll be here all day. I’m sure I’ll think of some more but if there are any specific scenarios, please ask!! Anon is on so feel free to submit whatever your heart desires!

#venom #venom movie #ask blog #rp blog #symbrock #we are venom #marvel #mcu #venom let there be carnage #tom hardy #Eddie Brock #Eddie and Venom #Venom and Eddie #tw: mentions of vore #tw: blood #headcannon #sex headcannon #symbiote sex headcannon

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messengerhermes · 3 years

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Let's talk home maintenance. Let's talk about home maintenance when the home is you. Content Warnings: This post is about building coping skills in the face of depression and PTSD, and other mental health challenges, it will allude to suicidal ideation and suicidality. So here's the thing. You are your house. Your body, your mind, all of you, is the home you live in. Some of the shit in your house is stuff you inherited, some of it's been gifted to you, some of it's found it's way in there over time, but all of it informs the general ambience of your home. Likewise, the rooms, the layout, the color of the walls, where your floorboards creak, and how the pipes whistle and hum when you run the hot water are all shaped by the experiences you've had from when you were first spat out into the world. Hell, they're shaped by the experiences of those who raised you in this world to. Having a home can be an incredible experience. But it can also, sometimes, be hell, be boring, be painful, be overwhelming. Especially because throughout our lives, our homes will change. New rooms will spring into existence, old ones may jam themselves shut. A cupboard you've never been able to get open will suddenly bang it's doors wide in the middle of the night. All the knick knacks well meaning relatives have given you over the years will break through the attic floor raining a clashing decor nightmare into your living room. The poltergeist you've managed to ignore for ten years will suddenly start rattling every tchotchke you've got, screaming loud enough to break glass whenever you have guests, and rearranging the contents off all your drawers. A hurricane will blow through and break all your windows, or a deep freeze will burst your pipes and flood the place. And when the home is you, you can't just sell it and buy a new one. There are periods in our life where our home may feel smothering, or frighteningly alien to us, or broken beyond repair, or any myriad of things that can warp the way we experience it. We can begin making our own ghosts, tearing at the floorboards and ripping up the plaster. We can stop believing that anyone would want to visit this place. Stop. Breathe. Here's a secret that is not a secret: No matter how often someone comes over to our house, they will never match the amount of time we spend there. Yes, even the people who we've decided to share gardens with, who we've built connecting walkways with. Even when you are absolutely sick of your house because it is always there with it's drippy pipes and groaning furnace and the wallpaper you loved five years ago but now it makes you nauseas to look at, other people are not going to feel that visceral exhaustion about your house, because they only ever visit. And the truth is, sometimes they are as deeply sick of their own houses as you are of yours, and sometimes, going to visit each other can help ease that frustration, that loneliness, and exhaustion. Even if neither of you does a damn thing to work on your houses in that moment. Sitting together, letting each other witness the ways your houses groan and rock in the wind, the faded places, the half finished renovations, is enough. Alright, now that this post has gone on for ages, I want to talk about home maintenance, or "What to do if you're getting sick of your house." This is not complete, or perfect, but hopefully it helps. 1. Sort through everything. Create an inventory of all the features and traits in your home, all the things it can do. Marie Kondo that shit. Decide what you're keeping, what you're tossing, and what to pass on to someone else. Thank the things you're letting go of, they came into your house because at some point you needed them, and it's okay to be different now. If you're struggling to find anything you like, or anything worth keeping, invite others into the process. Ask them to make lists of shit they like about you, things they notice as strengths, traits that come to mind when they think of you, or positive memories. Actually sit with those answers, don't dismiss

them. Figure out which parts feel good and which parts feel like you're playing a role that doesn't suit you anymore. Sort accordingly. Keep the list of all the things you're keeping somewhere you can review it often. Add to it as new things occur to you or people in your life pay you compliments.

2. Identify places for updates. Now that you're offloading some shit and know what you want to keep, think about what things you want updated. Maybe you want to change that aforementioned wallpaper. Maybe the boiler needs fixing. Maybe you want to call someone in to see about that poltergeist. Maybe you want a new kitchen. Break down the places you want change to happen into smaller components, and if possible, figure out how much time they might each take. You're not gonna rip out your entire kitchen all at once and get it done in a month, that's shit for real houses, not metaphor houses. But maybe you can tile a new backsplash, and then refinish your cabinets. Maybe you can get a new fridge.

3. Break things Up. Break those updates up into categories based on how much time and energy they'll take you. Something like "Quick Fixes" for updates that are just swapping things out (say, a new haircut, changes in wardrobe, different accessories, rearranging the furniture in your actual meatspace living space), "Short Term Projects" (like finding a new job, picking up a new hobby, reconnecting with folks, finding a therapist or support group--things that may require more energy than the quick fixes, but can be done over the span of a few months), and "Long Term Projects" (things like, going to therapy or joining a support group, addressing a deeper trauma or hard thing via talking with friends, reading on the subject and shifting behavior patterns, et al, this list is made up of stuff that can take years). For the long term projects, see if you can break them down into items that fit into the shorter lists (for example, if a long term project for you is Transition maybe that can be broken up into smaller components of changing your hair/clothes/pronouns, talking with close friends, accessing support groups, going to social events, identifying what you want for your transition, accessing healthcare if you're interested in medical transition). 4. Pace Yourself. Now that you've broken up your lists, figure out the pacing that works for you. Maybe you can do five quick fixes in a week and that will be a huge help. Maybe you can do a quick fix here and there and cycle between a couple of the short term projects. Maybe two of your long term projects overlap in some of their components and it makes them easier to tackle. Figure out what is doable for you, but also check in with yourself. Maybe you'll have a very "go go go" six months where you blast through a big chunk of short term projects, or feel like you make huge headway on a long-term project but then you hit a plateau. Don't try and force yourself to keep that pace, let yourself move where you're at. 5. Tell People About Your Housework. I know, vulnerability. Awful, disgusting, terrifying. Too bad. Do it anyway. Okay, let me be kinder here: When you tell people that your home is not perfect, that you have to do work on things, that you want to make changes and are, it give them permission to do the same thing. That's community, that's power, that's care. When you share, be clear about how you're sharing and what you're wanting from them. Are you looking for advice? Are you proud of something and want recognition? Do you need to be hyped up for something hard? Are you looking to share about the rough stuff and have the other person also share their rough stuff and that's how y'all support one another? 6. Call for a Barn Raising. Remember how I said if you can't think of things to keep when you're sorting through your house, call in others? Yeah, keep doing that. Maybe that support looks like just having someone sit with you as you talk through shit. Maybe it looks like getting to go out and blow bubbles in the park or ice skate, or lie in the grass and watch the clouds. Maybe it looks like grocery shopping together, or eating together so you'll actually eat. Maybe it looks like joining a Discord or Reddit with the same interests as you and posting. Our house is our own, but we are not meant to live all alone way up on some hillside, and we're not meant to fix up our homes alone either. Relearn pleasure with others, relearn joy, and curiosity, and grief, and hope and be held in your sadness and hurt. 7. Recognize Your Home is Lovable. Love is an action. Love is joy, is laughter, is pleasure, is tenderness. It is also care and effort. It is not easy to love in deep ways. It takes work, sometimes it means going out of your way, sometimes it means doing things that are tiring. You are not bad or wrong for sometimes requiring effort to love. Needing dedicated attention, having places where you bristle and snarl, having periods where you struggle to hold your home in tenderness and need others to remind you of its wonder is human. Be accountable for the

places your actions have left hurts, change your behavior, accept how relationships shift in the wake of your actions. But do not let the shame monsters in your basement chew away at the floorboards above them til everything falls in that pit. Practice believing you are worthy of love, even in the painful moments where someone you love may no longer love you in turn. Yes, this step is hard as shit. When we lose a person's love, or are struggling to love ourselves, it can be easy to fall into the trap of thinking we are not worthy of anyone's love at all. But we are. It's as simple and profoundly difficult as that.

8. Rest and Feel Good. Literally, do nothing. Lie belly up in the sunshine. Read/listen to a good book, enjoy a show you love. Create emotional playlists and lose yourself in feelings. Paint, draw, sculpt, crochet, cross stitch, play an instrument, do it wonderfully, do it terribly, just do it if it feels good. Shove your hands in the dirt and make homes for tender seedlings, enjoy their journey, mourn when they wither, celebrate when they bloom. Cook things you've never made before, cook things you make all the time. Relish good food. Relish criticizing terrible food. Go to markets and shove your hands in the dry grain barrels, run your palms over fabrics and feel their textures. Smile at pretty strangers you have no intention of talking to and enjoy how the expression feels on your face. Tell people when you like their clothes. Find people to hold, to lie pressed up close in hammocks or scrunched up on the couch together. Kiss if you're the kissing type. Fuck if you're the fucking type. Dance if that moves you. Get your ass slapped if that moves you. Let yourself feel good without guilt, without suffering, without shame. Your pain is not a fee you must pay for pleasure. We are animals and are made for all the sweetness of life. Relish in that. I will stop here, since I have gone on long enough. This list is not a prescription, it is not the One True Answer, nor is it complete. But, if you decided to read all way through it, if you woke up this morning and put your head in your hands in a house that is haunted, is weighted down with strange rooms with inheritances you don't know what to do with, I hope you can move through the clutter and fix your hands on one thing you wish to keep in it all. And then another. And another. I hope you can be the home you dream of, again and again and again.

#mental health #coping skills #long post #depression #anxiety #support systems #coping

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mythvoiced · 3 years

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🙌 Any muse, I'm big 👀

@wantedformanysins | Send a 🙌 and I’ll introduce you to an NPC related to my Muse.

---

H-how did you make it so big, how are this powerful- kidding, obviously you are-

The Kang family is characterised by mostly serious people who like to do either serious things, or any sort of things, as long as they’re done seriously. Out of five members, two seem to have mastered the art of emotional constipation brought forth by an emotionally distant - yet at the same time, demanding - parent, one is said parent (late patriarch Mr Kang, God rest his soul), the other is a mother trying her best to compensate for her late husband’s parenting techniques, and the last has inherited zero attention from his father, and all the good-will and emotional intelligence of his mother.

Long story short, if you want to get smiled at while visiting the Kang household and mother dearest isn’t around, please refer to Kang Kiwoo.

Less successful than both his older and his younger brother, Kiwoo is usually considered the odd one amongst the three. Where Hoon dedicates his entire life energy to his career and pleasing the expectations of a ghost, and Chulsoo tries to balance an actual job with his latent hikikomori lifestyle, Kiwoo is simply trying to live and love. He’s the one to call if you need help while moving, he’s the one you can send memes to, he’s the one to call at 3am when your heart got broken. His interests in life seem to be almost exclusively emotional in nature, where he seeks things that make him feel full and good, and hopes to create these sensations within others. He’s characterised by the same levels of intelligence of his brothers, even though most assume he isn’t because of his free-spirited nature and his usual choice in conversation topics.

He likes to keep his phrasings mundane, to avoid alienating friends and strangers alike by talking about things in ways that only certain people would get. A master people-reader, the one in the group to notice when you keep getting interrupted, the one who remembers little details, and events. All in all, he seems to be almost the direct opposite of Chulsoo and Hoon, which might be the case because while his brothers were influenced by their father, he kept mostly to their mother’s side, and learnt from her.

But do know that they do actually share similarities: Kiwoo has also difficulties expressing his own emotions, actually one of the reasons he tries so hard to make it easier for others to express theirs. He avoids addressing personal issues or even acknowledging them, with the intention of dealing with them himself. In a way, you could see this as being self-denying, but in part he’s actually very careful with his vulnerabilities, and is as likely as Chulsoo to react very strongly if you try to overstep boundaries he’s very evidently setting.

He struggles with managing his anger as much as the others and should probably go to therapy too.

He’s about 28, fulfilled his mandatory military enlistment at the time his father died (he actually enlisted shortly after, probably because of it) and will never go back; he’s done a year of university and then dropped out because he didn’t think it was really for him and he’s currently hired at a chauffeuring company, considered by him an upgrade to the delivery person he was before, even though he’s just moved from driving stuff around, to driving people around. He’s an excellent driver, by the way, and has a near photogenic memory that keeps startling his brothers. He always gets his mother something special and unique for mother’s day and doesn’t visit his father. He’s pansexual, regularly drinks his respect women & trans people juice, and is actually looking into joining a few groups to become an activist. He likes punchnello and thinks the Sweet Home & True Beauty adaptations are crap. Oh, he’s also cried over the True Beauty webtoon before, and he’s not ashamed and thinks they should simply all get together in a poly ship. His usual phone backgrounds are artsy lofi-esque drawings and/or his favourite musician.

#wantedformanysins #the va;guest muse #IT'S KIWOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ♥#a:#I HOPE THIS IS OKAY AND worth the ask ;3 a LIL more on Kiwoo becAUSE THAT'S WHAT HE absolutely deserves #;queue

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whetstonefires · 4 years

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Sephiroth, 1, 2, 5, 9, 12, 16, 20. I find your take on him so interesting! (And kind of sad too...)

Oh gosh this is so many! Haha okay, here goes.

1.Their physical weak spots

Huh. He’s programmed to be literally impossible to damage in the one actual fight in the Nibel flashback, the dragon. I theorize this might have been his first-level Limit? But of course you can’t use a Limit unless you’ve been injured first. (Apparently they reversed this in the Remake which is a major thematic change and I don’t like it? Anyway tho.)

So on one level his physical untouchability is part of his trademark and there’s a temptation to say ‘none’ and be done with it.

Normal human weak spots, I imagine, he’s not as alien as all that. The throat is the throat, I mean. His disinclination for wearing shirts may suggest an indifference to thoracic damage, but between his tendency to not get hit at all and the existence of healing magic that doesn’t necessarily mean much.

The vertical pupils which can dilate much further than normal would make him particularly vulnerable to flashbangs used in a dark or even dim environment. I assume Wutaian ninjas exploited the heck out of that. :D

2. Their emotional/moral weak spots

Abandonment issues was a big one, I think, and all the huge gaping vulnerabilities created by being a child with no one to love, or who loved you.

Thinking outside of Shinra’s standard pathways is a matter of some anxiety to him, in Crisis Core–his idea of resistance is ‘find my friend first and then oops fail to kill him they can’t prove it was on purpose’ and then later ‘turn down the assignment to find my friend and kill him.’ There’s just, a lot of emotional dependence on a toxic structure indicated by his behavior patterns.

I’m sure that was deliberately instilled, but it’s not that hard. His superpowers aren’t Superman scale self-sufficient until after he ‘dies’ once, and capitalism does what it does. He’s not much less dependent on the Company for survival than the average worker, and more so for identity.

Morally he was disadvantaged by being a corporate supersoldier with Hojo as his parent–the details of his upbringing have never been clarified but they sure didn’t put him anywhere outside Shinra enough for him to form external attachments, or even powerful internal personal ones prior to the rather shaky ones he managed with two peers sometime in adolescence, which leaves fairly few possibilities really.

Anyway morally he’s nothing but weaknesses, even before he got tangled up with The Thing From The Northern Crater and decided he was God and should consume all life. ^^;

5. Guilty pleasures

You know, I don’t think even pre-evil Sephiroth did guilt much? Waste of energy, and (see above) he wasn’t socialized for it, it’s counterproductive in a soldier. The ‘guilt’ in guilty pleasure is really a species of shame though, and anyone with that much pride is vulnerable to the opposite, even if they weren’t exposed to someone like Hojo growing up….

You know, it was probably novels? He was a reader, and one of the most personal things we know about him from the OG is the deep impression left by Hojo’s furious rant about how inappropriate it was to use poetic expressions about magic. Even ‘magic’ was too sentimental for this domineering science twit.

So, every so often growing Sephiroth would get his hands on a piece of fiction, and the quality wasn’t necessarily great because it was whatever he could pick up in the break room or wherever, but he’d hole up out of sight and scarf it down. Even once he had his own living space and salary and could buy whatever books he wanted and store them, he’d pick up novels on the sly and get rid of them once he was done, like someone was going to catch him. One of the things he used to pick out of the ruins in Wutai during the looting was books.

He always felt a confusing mess of jealousy and scorn about Genesis’ Loveless thing. That he could just like it like that, constantly, right out in the open, where anyone could laugh at him. That nobody had ever taken it away.

Less tragically, I think sometimes he’d go home and watch bad TV. Whatever Midgar’s stupidest soap opera was. Sephiroth caught enough of the reruns to know most of the main plots. He had an opinion about who the father of Jaqueline’s baby should have turned out to be. He would never admit this.

9. Humiliating memories

Okay, as touched on above repeatedly, he grew up with Hojo, who loves breaking people down and laughing at them, so he’s probably got a lot of these.

The worst one is one time when he had a weak moment or an optimistic one, and asked out loud in words for something he really, really wanted, and Hojo said yes, and gave Sephiroth just enough time to get desperately excited and express gratitude before laughing at him and saying of course he was lying. Don’t be stupid.

That isn’t something important enough to bother with.

12. Grudges and vendettas

‘Burning inside with violent anger’ isn’t there for no reason. From Nibelheim on these define him, and according to bonus materials of middling canon status he eventually sheds almost all identity elements but his grudges.

I think, based on the shape of his breakdown? That for most of his life he told himself that holding onto anger and pursuing grudges was a waste of time and energy. But that didn’t actually help him let any of it go, he just internalized and ignored things. Because he wasn’t actually not holding grudges, he was just reacting like someone who didn’t have any choices, and marinating in spite.

Spite against Hojo surfaces on the way up to the reactor in a way that says to me it’s a habit, almost a reflex. But it manifests in profound pettiness, and I think that’s the only way he normally felt he was permitted to act out against the people who really bothered him, though I’m also sure he channeled a lot of anger into unrelated killing. Natural thing to do when you’re a frustrated teenager who’s supposed to be killing people anyway.

By the time he did it in Nibelheim, it was an old habit.

The fact that he bothered to personally kill the Shinra President as his big debut says to me he was holding a grudge about his entire life against the person who commissioned him and declared the war and shaped the floating Midgar-world that defined his life. I think there were probably a lot of personal insults in there too, just because of the way Shinra Sr. seems to have conducted himself generally.

He’s a Donald Trump expy wouldn’t you.

Sephiroth is written as a much softer person in Crisis Core, almost absurdly so, but even there you can see him resenting Genesis and Angeal more than a little for abandoning him. It probably brought back his whole mess of feelings about Gast, who really did abandon him quite unforgivably but Sephiroth never knew the full circumstances, just that he was gone and later dead. There are signs he blamed Hojo, who doesn’t seem to have gloated openly about the murder even if he did make sure to inform the boy his favorite person was dead now.

And of course later on there’s Cloud, which doesn’t actually make that much sense until you loop in the retcon about Cloud throwing him into the reactor and cutting short his initial rampage. There��s the grudges he seems to have inherited from Jenova, against the Cetra.

It’s not out of the question that he killed Aerith the way he did in part because she was the thing Gast abandoned him for, as well as all the other less personal reasons. I sort of like to think so.

16. Dark secrets/’skeletons in the closet’

Of his own, as opposed to ‘about him’ that he found out about, I don’t think he really had many? He wasn’t much accustomed to privacy.

I think most of the worst things he did, as a human being rather than a transhuman monstrosity, were pretty unavoidably public; they were war crimes, and happened in front of some fraction of the rest of the army. He was praised for them.

There probably were a lot of dark things he never talked to anyone about, that weren’t really known, but except for outright humiliating childhood incidents like above he wasn’t particularly hiding them. He was just never in a position where it would have made any sense to him to bring them up.

Genesis wasn’t ever someone it was safe to be vulnerable around, and Angeal was uncomfortable with too much emotion, and besides they were fellow soldiers and it wasn’t like the things he didn’t talk about from the war were anything special, and he wasn’t going to complain about his childhood to them. And who else was there?

Dude needed so much therapy.

20. What-ifs/Alternate Timelines

I go absolutely nuts with alternate timelines for Sephiroth. He’s so much fun to work with that way.

Lucretia and Vincent stole the baby and went on the run: Firo grew up kinda isolated in the woods with his parents but runs away at thirteen to fight Shinra because he’s so mad they had to leave Wutai because of the invasion. Parzival AU.

Ifalna recruited Sephiroth to her escape scheme and he wound up raising Aerith on the run, under the names Rith and Roth. Beloved Dust AU, that one’s actually online as you may very well know lol.

Vincent blew up the Nibelheim reactor with Hojo and Jenova in it when Sephiroth was six, and then later Midgar blew up as well and the Shinra world order collapsed, and the recently married Mrs. Strife adopted the weird lab kid. Later on Cloud pressures his big brother into starting an anti-bandit militia. Time Of General Strife AU.

Cute three-way blood brothers ceremony contaminates Genesis’ body with Sephiroth’s DNA and sets off his degeneration several years early, when they’re all teenagers and not nearly as famous, powerful, or fucked in the head. Brother and Brother AU.

And so on. ;}

#ask #ask meme #sephiroth #ffvii #hoc est meum #a nonny mouse #any time tags on asks could come back that would be great #meta #headcanons #backstory #thank you!#hope this suited

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alarawriting · 4 years

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Inktober 2020 #19 - Dizzy / Writeober 2020 #14 - Euphoria

There is a hole in the world.

You’ve known about it for years before you get to go. Oh, it certainly sounded interesting, but you were on a fixed income, and you weren’t well. Medicare pays all the doctor bills, but it doesn’t pay for the bus or the taxi to your appointments, and you were too tired all the time for adventures anyway. An exciting vacation for you was a trip to Maryland or West Virginia to play slot machines at a casino. And you kept meaning to go, but the years slipped by, the way they do when you’re old, the unfair speeding up of the train as it approaches the final destination.

But your grandson – your youngest daughter’s boy, the one who loves science – won a trip as a prize in a science fair, with the caveat that he had to bring an adult, and his mother was going to be on a business trip then and his father was on deadline, so it had to be you. All expenses paid, a one day trip because no one likes to sleep over there and there’s no organized human settlements. Everything is camping rough. When you were a girl, the Girl Scouts didn’t teach camping the way the Boy Scouts did. You won badges in sewing and making brownies and being a good friend, back in your day, and you learned something about camping but not nearly as much as your brother did, and it’s not like either of you ever had a chance to go out to the woods and live rough. So a one-day trip seems just right for you.

The flight is deeply irritating, like it always is. Your grandson gets singled out for special security, like a 14 year old boy accompanied by his grandmother is such a danger, and it’s so hard for you to take your shoes off and then put them back on without a bench to sit on to do it. At least they don’t question your oxygen tank the way they did on the last flight you took, when you went to Florida to see your childhood best friend and the security people acted like an oxygen tank was a potential bomb. In comparison, when you get to the Donut – the colloquial name for the gateway to the other world – there’s very little security, probably because no one can blow up a hole in the world. Blowing up the Donut would just temporarily set back humanity’s ability to control the gateway, it wouldn’t actually remove it, or stop travel for very long. And trips to the Donut aren’t nearly as crowded nowadays as they were when the thing was first built.

At the Donut, the security people ask you if you want to leave the oxygen tank behind. This is a really strange question. “I’m rather fond of breathing, actually,” you say, smiling, because your grandson is here so you really can’t say “What the fuck” like you want to.

The security guard who spoke smiles back at you. “I’m sure you do, ma’am,” she says. “Thing is, the other world has much higher oxygen concentration in the atmosphere. A lot of our visitors with oxygen tanks find that they don’t need them on the other side.”

You’d heard about that on one of your Internet mailing lists for the elderly, but frankly there is so much crap in there, you assumed this was nonsense too. Interesting to find out it’s true. But it doesn’t change anything right now. “Well, I don’t know if I’m going to need it or not, but if I find that I don’t, I can always pull my cannula out.”

“It’s a little difficult to pull a tank around over there. Not a lot of sidewalks.”

“We’re going to one of the touristy places,” your grandson Derek says, rolling his eyes. He’d wanted to go to one of the wild places over there, but you shot that down. Your joints, your muscles, and your oxygen tank are not up to traipsing through the wilderness.

“Well, it sounds like you’ve got it all figured out.” The phrase could have been sarcastic or condescending, but the security guard still sounds friendly. “Enjoy your trip!”

The Donut is in the middle of an airplane hangar, or something that looks a lot like it anyway. It’s just amazing how empty the room where the Donut sits is. An airplane hangar should be full of airplanes, but you see yards and yards of empty concrete all around the Donut, which is more or less in the center of the hangar. It’s not actually donut-shaped, it’s an arch, but an arch with enough bend to it on the sides that it looks like about two-thirds of a donut. A plastic flap door covers the opening, semi-opaque PVC strips. It hides the hole in the world from casual view.

The queue is rather more loosey-goosey than you usually expect a queue to be. Small groups of people chat, children run around, and it doesn’t seem like there’s really any rhyme or reason to it, but you all have tickets, and your tickets have numbers, and you’re being called in numerical order. When it’s your turn, you request your destination from the Donut operator. The operator has a keypad attached to the Donut. She pushes some buttons. “Enjoy your trip!” she says, and gestures that they can go forward.

Derek pushes through the plastic flaps first, running even though you just shouted, “Derek! No running!” You follow, pulling your oxygen tank.

On the other side, there’s a concrete pad in a forest clearing. Most of the forest clearing is packed dirt, or weird bluish ground-cover vine in long strands with plump leaves. Around the edges of the clearing, there’s a couple of Port-a-Potties, a few food vending stands – including one labeled “McDonalds @ NovaStella”, NovaStella being one of several names the new world is going by depending on who you ask – and a tour guide in the center of the clearing.

“Hi, everybody!” she says. She has dark brown skin and straight black hair, long and unbraided, falling straight down her back, and she’s wearing beige cargo shorts and a beige button-down short sleeve shirt. It makes her look like a character from the Jumanji franchise, or Indiana Jones. “I’m Sahana, and I’ll be your guide to Nova Stella today…”

But you’re hardly paying attention, because you can breathe.

It’s been, what, twenty years? You’ve had COPD so long you can’t quite remember what it felt like to draw a breath and feel like it really fills you with oxygen. Even with your tank, you’ve always felt short of breath; your arms and legs burn when you do anything even moderately strenuous, like climbing stairs. And there’s always a heaviness, a feeling like there’s a steady pressure on your chest, never absent.

Until now.

You take a deep breath. You feel light. You feel dizzy. You feel full of energy, like you could run a mile the way you did in your 20s, like you could sling boxes full of papers around and move out of your house all by yourself. It’s amazing, and it buoys you up, makes you euphoric as you haven’t felt since you first fell in love with your now-long-dead husband.

Testing, you remove the cannula from your nose, and breathe deeply through your nose. It feels good. Even without the extra oxygen from your tank, your chest is light and full and the muscles in your limbs don’t ache. You still don’t think you could jump – oxygen doesn’t fix your elderly joints, the worn cartilage caps between your bones and the overstretched tendons like the elastics on 20-year-old pants, stiff and unelastic now – but you could walk for hours. You could maybe even run. You could swim. How long has it been since you felt like you could swim? You do water aerobics all the time, but you never put your head under the water anymore because you can’t fill your lungs full enough.

“Excuse me,” you say to Sahana the tour guide. “Is there anywhere I can leave this?” You gesture at your oxygen tank. “I don’t think I’ll be needing it.”

“We have an emergency cart where we carry things like that, in case you turn out to need it later,” Sahana says. She gestures at a very long, tall, narrow cart made in segments, so it can turn corners, with two really big men, a white man with sandy hair and a man with light brown skin whose race is impossible to determine, standing by it, wearing the same uniform Sahana is. “Lots of people put jackets in there, or their cameras, or laptops, and a good number of people in your position do in fact store their oxygen tank in the cart just in case.”

“Thank you so much, dear,” you say. The big white man, all customer service smiles, takes your oxygen tank and puts it on the cart, and you breathe. And you breathe. And you breathe.

As you, your grandson, and everyone else in the party begin the hike through the forest, on the narrow trails carved by the company, Sahana advises you all to stay on the path. “We haven’t been able to test all the plants to make sure they’re all safe for human beings,” she says. “There’s always the possibility of having an allergic reaction to a chemical humans have never encountered before.”

You know that’s true. You read up on it before coming here, and you knew about what causes allergies anyway – you’re not a doctor or a nurse but you worked in medical billing for twenty years, and you pick things up. But part of you longs to go off the trail, to carve your own path through the thick and alien woods. Pick flowers no human has seen before. Climb trees and vines. With the air of this world in your lungs, you feel like you could do anything.

This won’t be the last trip. You know, now, that if you have to spend your children’s entire inheritance to be here as often as you can, you’ll do it. If there’s a job you can find that will support you in making these trips, you’ll take it. You’ll do whatever it takes to be here, where your breathing is easy and the scent of the world fills you with excitement and euphoria, where you feel young and near-invincible again.

#inktober 2020 #writeober 2020 #alara's october 2020 prompt fics #hole in the world

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firestartermelia · 3 years

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I saw you mention your D. Gray-man OC, was curious about them

hiya stranger! my OC is based on the idea: what if Krory and Eliade had a child and he’s a half demon/half exorcist

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Name: Kay Krory Age: 3 (biologically, but he looks like a 12 year old) Gender: Male Species: Half Demon Birthday: July 22nd (Leo) Birthplace: Brașov, Romania General appearance: At 5'5'' Kay is quite tall (and will grow even taller). He's slender, well-proportioned and possesses and innate grace. He has a handsome, symmetrical face and stone white skin. His hair is a rich, chocolate brown color, though it may darken with age. The tips of his ears are slightly pointed, giving him an elfin appearance. Kay's most striking features are his eyes, which are reddish-pink, and his sharp canine teeth. General information: General Marian Cross came across Kay and Eliade on one of his many, many sidequests. Cross, being the only general who wouldn't shoot first and ask questions later, wasn't shocked or appalled by the half demon child. He instead smirked, happy to have found something interesting for a change. He was the one in charge of Kay's training before he was sent to the Order (And there had been a time, at first, when Kay thought Marian was his dad). No one ever confirmed that, but Kay felt lied to nonetheless, and was hesitant to meet the other (human) exorcists, even though he wants to. Cross treated him with kindness and accepted him just the way he is. In return, his love for the general is endless and borders on worship. He'd do anything to make Cross laugh (like saying the F word or roasting people in a mean way). He wishes for Eliade to marry him: Quote: ''How could my mother turn away from such a man?'' sigh ^^ Kay came to the Order to meet his real human father, and to fight against the akuma and the millenium earl. He had the choice not to, but decided he couldn't run and hide, and look the other way, when the bad things were destroying the world. General personality: Sweet, courageous and protective. Kay sides with the exorcists against the evil forces and would do anything to save the ones he cares about. He is impulsive, says things without thinking and definitely underestimates the enemy (and the human exorcists), thinking he is stronger than everybody else. Kay loves being the center of attention. He knows he's powerful, special, good-looking and a real aristocrat (a fact he will gleefully throw in your face) ''I'm rich, you know...'' Due to his young age Kay simply doesn't understand everything. He's intelligent, but to those who don't know his true age, he appears to be immature and naïve. He still doesn't know how to read and feels self-conscious about it. Kay needs to be the center of attention. He is sassy and takes no disrespect from anyone, standing up for himself and others. He's playful as well, often bored by meetings and anything 'serious' due to a short attention span. If you give him love, he will love you in return! If not...well, then you're against him..In the end, he just wants to be loved and accepted (just like Eliade). He has a tendency to become extremely jealous when his favorite people ignore him in favor of others. He wants Krory to like him so bad! He's aware he's not human and ultimately, thinks and behaves differently. Kay fears this will turn the others against him and Eliade, because he understands it's human nature to fear the unknown, and that without innocence, people are very weak. They don't want to be at his mercy, but he is at theirs as well (being weak to innocence) Fears: Clowns (shouldn't have watched the movie IT), Mimes, Spiders (srsly, he is so scared), The doctor, The dentist, School, Innocence, The millenium earl, Krory not loving him, Krory dying, dying, the dark, being trapped in a cave (and covered in spiders), cave spiders (he could go on, I had to stop him) Dislikes: Weakness, Rules (he does what he wants), Showers (rain: great. Puddles: HELL YEAH. A river: NOW WE'RE TALKING. he's literally a water-bending exorcist but showers are of the devil and he hates them. Losing (he isn't used to losing), Liars, food he considers gross (list too long) Sleep, it is for the weak. Likes: Eliade, Marian, Krory, Kanda. (He worships Kanda for being cool, calm, and having a sword.) Spongebob Squarepants (to everyone's dismay), Fighting ( equals winning), the rain, swimming, animals, hugs, robots, amusement parks, fun fairs, playing golf, computers, glitter pens, fluffy blankets, sushi, candy, chocolate, cereal, waffles..(list so long the narrator got tired and they had to hire a new one) Ultimate goals: owning a pet. He has his heart set on a wolf or a snow leopard. Becoming an astronaut and being the first to meet aliens (He believes there are other worlds than this one and wants to see them with Eliade, knowing they will outlive their human friends.) Fun Facts: Kay is half Irish and never learned to speak Romanian. Kay is colorblind and gravitates to bold, bright, in your face colors (he has a glittery, hot pink backpack and no one can say anything). He liked to dress up, wore skirts and painted his nails when he was younger (Cross was ashamed of walking around with his student like that but NEVER made him feel bad in any way) It was just to play and look like Eliade^^ He was never raised in any religion, but found out about that when moving to the Black Order. He wonders if the other gods are real and believes his power comes from Neptune, god of the sea, and that maybe if the Christian God made humans, Neptune made him. He once made a sacrifice by chucking Marian's wine overboard. Strengths: Greater physical strength (with or without innocence), Longevity (when reaching young adulthood, he won't age anymore, won't die from old age) Quick (on par with Kanda, not Lenalee), Immune to akuma virus, fast healing Weaknesses: Impulsive, Overconfident: underestimates enemies and team members alike. Innocence (getting hurt by crossfire is a danger), Commands great power, but due to his age and inexperience he cannot think ahead and cannot stay activated for long. Unable to comprehend everything, very naïve. Innocence: Nereid (water faerie) Parasitic type, inherited from his father. This leads Komui and Inspector Levellier to believe that children of Parasitic type innocence users have a greater chance of being accommodators themselves, although Kay is the only confirmed case. Basically, his special power is the manipulation of water. He make it rain, freeze anything solid, make waves bend to his will, throw ice shards, summon a blizzard, you name it. Like many other exorcists his innocence takes the shape of wings, although they are shimmery and translucent, fae-like. The wings allow him to fly, not drown in his own tsunami and to move fast underwater. When transformed, he does not need air, but he can only keep that up for so long. His ace up his sleeve is the ability to manipulate the water in one's blood(be it people or akuma) and move them like puppets, make them unable to move, or freeze/make their blood boil from within. this takes a massive amount of energy and serves as a last resort. he is not skilled enough to do this to multiple people, or akuma higher than lvl 3.

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buildingrelationshipsinanarchy · 4 years

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QIM Model | Dekoship Series | Phadship Series | Seroship Series

*As per uze, you dont have to read anything beneath the infographic itself, but I’m gonna try to add some theory to explain why this one excites me the most in the model*

So some significant people in my life and I have been discussing Anarchist theory lately with all of the uprisings and discussions of abolishing police. And while blogs like @queeranarchism and @hater-of-terfs are so much better read and have better takes on anarchism, direct action, current events, and politics in general, than I could hope to provide, its by those blogs and others that I’m inspired in the ways I am.

Mudships are just affinity groups you built to do some direct action. What is direct action? The link is to CrimethInc’s work Recipes For Disaster, and its intro is a good primer on it. To paraphrase it (who doesn’t like blockquotes?):

Practicing direct action means acting directly to meet needs, rather than relying on representatives or choosing from prescribed options ... it most properly describes actions that cut out the middleman entirely to solve problems without mediation.

Need some examples? You can give money to a charity organization, or you can start your own chapter of Food Not Bombs and feed yourself and other hungry people at once. You can write an angry letter to the editor of a magazine that doesn't provide good 72 coverage of the subjects you consider important, or you can start your own magazine. You can vote for a mayor who promises to start a new program to help the homeless, or you can squat unused buildings and open them up as free housing for anyone in need.

...

The opposite of direct action is representation.

While things can get intense the more confident you get practicing direct action, my purposes here are in regards to relationship building and mutual aid. In the ABC’s of Anarchism, Berkman has this beautiful little quote (you ready for another one?):

If your object is to secure liberty, you must learn to do without authority and compulsion. If you intend to live in peace and harmony with your fellow-men, you and they should cultivate brotherhood and respect for each other. If you want to work together with them for your mutual benefit, you must practice coöperation.

The social revolution means much more than the reorganization of conditions only: it means the establishment of new human values and social relationships, a changed attitude of man to man, as of one free and independent to his equal; it means a different spirit in individual and collective life, and that spirit cannot be born overnight. It is a spirit to be cultivated, to be nurtured and reared, as the most delicate flower is, for indeed it is the flower of a new and beautiful existence.

So when I talk about monogamy and capitalism, it isn’t to shit on people who do monogamy, its discuss how the cultural institution of monogamy is a social relationship. It’s to discuss not that practicing monogamy is the problem (although you’re not gonna catch me doing it), its to discuss how our culture perceives doing monogamy correctly and how that makes it worth critiquing if we were to imagine building a different society and attempt to make any meaningful steps toward it.

If doing monogamy ‘correctly’ is ‘investing’ time, money, emotional intimacy and sexual attention into one person, its obvious that it leaves so many people out of our lives that could add depth, joy, fulfillment, challenge, and transformative growth and change for us. Margaret Thatcher has a terrible quote: “There is no such thing as society. There are individual men and women and there are families.” I bring up this trashcan quote by this woman with dumpster politics to critique the idea of Family as well. Monogamy leads to nuclear families, not all of the time, but enough of the time for most of us to have that experience.

But what is Family? Blood ties to people and access to their material resources? That’s how inheritance works, which has torn a part families by fighting over the resources by who gets what. Familiy also has colloquially meant familiarity with certain human beings thats developed or long periods of connection and time. How many of us have found people in our lives who have loved us deeper than our parents and siblings (if you still have, or ever had those)? My father passed a few years ago, and I’m virtually estranged with my mother and younger sister. Family in my life has been the partners and friends through the years who’ve had the patience, grace, and concern for my joy & well-being, it is them who has shared their time, energy, labor, money, food with me when circumstance would steal the ground beneath my feet. To discuss monogamy and family from the lens I’ve constructed is to talk directly about which social relationships become culturally validated and socially encouraged, and with it who gets access to what materials and why we watch others refuse to share it.

I talk about mudships as being relationships built around Mutual Aid and Solidarity, that whatever little circles we’ve built around ourselves don’t interrupt the ability to be charitable and generous with people outside of it. The individualism that’s reinforced by capitalism affects us by separating people from their communities, by leveraging human need against human values, by turning the world outside of our homes into a place ‘full of people who will take advantage of your naivete or good heart.’ This isn’t just some ideological or abstract concept, this word encapsulates why I have the current over my head that I do. It every much discusses how I’ve been able to keep an old roommate afloat after he was laid off of his job and couldn’t claim unemployment; and that was before COVID and its Lockdowns & Quarantines erased a huge chunk of the economy.

I don’t just say this to just encourage sharing. I say this as part of a larger conversation about how we’ve been encultured & propagandized to believe that some people don’t deserve access to healthcare, addiction therapy, housing, food, clean water, this list goes on. I want to start a conversation about building the social relationships that allow us to trust the people we’re sharing money, material resources, and labor with, in our own lives and to inspire the desire to get excited about helping those you may know are in need.

We have so much need and so many stoked, yet unfulfilled desires that capitalism fuels and feeds off of, but does that mean we can do nothing about it? Does that mean we have to hope another Bernie Sanders shows up? I don’t want the quality of my time on this earth to be suffering in ways I can actively resolve or prevent. But I can’t do that alone, trying to do so is impossible. It isn’t a moral failing to not be powerful in a world separates you from the source of connection, inspiration, and depth, all of which exists in the hearts and potential of others.

Don’t let yourself forget that we always better connected than alienated.

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frmartinshomiliesandreflections · 4 years

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5th October >> Fr. Martin’ Gospel Reflections / Homilies on Luke 10:25-37��for Monday, Twenty Seventh Week in Ordinary Time: ‘Go and do the same yourself’.

Monday, Twenty Seventh Week in Ordinary Time

Gospel (Europe, Africa, New Zealand, Australia & Canada)

Luke 10:25-37

The good Samaritan

There was a lawyer who, to disconcert Jesus, stood up and said to him, ‘Master, what must I do to inherit eternal life?’ He said to him, ‘What is written in the Law? What do you read there?’ He replied, ‘You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind, and your neighbour as yourself.’ ‘You have answered right,’ said Jesus ‘do this and life is yours.’

But the man was anxious to justify himself and said to Jesus, ‘And who is my neighbour?’ Jesus replied, ‘A man was once on his way down from Jerusalem to Jericho and fell into the hands of brigands; they took all he had, beat him and then made off, leaving him half dead. Now a priest happened to be travelling down the same road, but when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. In the same way a Levite who came to the place saw him, and passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan traveller who came upon him was moved with compassion when he saw him. He went up and bandaged his wounds, pouring oil and wine on them. He then lifted him on to his own mount, carried him to the inn and looked after him. Next day, he took out two denarii and handed them to the innkeeper. “Look after him,” he said “and on my way back I will make good any extra expense you have.” Which of these three, do you think, proved himself a neighbour to the man who fell into the brigands‘ hands?’ ‘The one who took pity on him’ he replied. Jesus said to him, ‘Go, and do the same yourself.’

Gospel (USA)

Luke 10:25-37

Who is my neighbor?

There was a scholar of the law who stood up to test Jesus and said, “Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus said to him, “What is written in the law? How do you read it?” He said in reply, “You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your being, with all your strength, and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself.” He replied to him, “You have answered correctly; do this and you will live.”

But because he wished to justify himself, he said to Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” Jesus replied, “A man fell victim to robbers as he went down from Jerusalem to Jericho. They stripped and beat him and went off leaving him half-dead. A priest happened to be going down that road, but when he saw him, he passed by on the opposite side. Likewise a Levite came to the place, and when he saw him, he passed by on the opposite side. But a Samaritan traveler who came upon him was moved with compassion at the sight. He approached the victim, poured oil and wine over his wounds and bandaged them. Then he lifted him up on his own animal, took him to an inn, and cared for him. The next day he took out two silver coins and gave them to the innkeeper with the instruction, ‘Take care of him. If you spend more than what I have given you, I shall repay you on my way back.’ Which of these three, in your opinion, was neighbor to the robbers’ victim?” He answered, “The one who treated him with mercy.” Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.”

Reflections (9)

(i) Monday, Twenty Seventh Week in Ordinary Time

In today’s gospel reading, it is said of the traveller who was attacked by robbers that they left him ‘half dead’. It is an unusual expression in English, ‘half dead’, but we all know what it means. The man was very likely close to death. We can be ‘half dead’ in other ways, apart from the physical and bodily sense. We can be ‘half dead’ in the sense that the spark has gone out in us. We feel only half alive and sense that we are dragging ourselves around, without much energy or enthusiasm for anything. Perhaps that is the way many people are feeling at the moment due to the impact of this Corona Virus, ‘half dead’, or, in slightly more positive terms, ‘half alive’. It is easy to feel that as a society we are taking one step forward and then two steps back again. In these times, we often need others to breathe new life into us, just as in the parable the Samaritan breathed new life into the broken traveller. He did so by doing the good he was capable of doing. He did what he could, and that turned out to be quite a lot, bandaging the man’s wounds, easing them with oil and wine, bringing him to an inn, a place of safety and hospitality, paying his expenses and promising to check in on him on his way back. He gave a little of his time and a little of his money to this unfortunate man and it made all the difference. The half dead man came back to life. What the Samaritan did for the broken Jewish traveller is an image of what Jesus wants to do for us all. He is the great healer of body, soul and spirit. He is always present to us in a healing, life-giving way. What the Samaritan did for the injured man is also an image of what Jesus wants us to do for one another, ‘Go and do the same yourself’. There is always something we can do for one another, especially in these Covid times. Giving others a little of our time, a little from our own human and material resources can make a huge difference to them. It can bring new life to the half dead.

And/Or

(ii) Monday, Twenty Seventh Week in Ordinary Time

The parable of the Good Samaritan reminds us that help can come to us from unexpected quarters. The wounded man in the parable was presumable a Jew. He would not have expected help to come from a Samaritan, because Jews and Samaritans did not associate with each other at that time. To his great surprise, the broken traveller discovered that God’s compassionate presence was revealed to him by someone from whom he would have had no expectations at all. We can sometimes make the same discovery in our own lives. At crucial moments we can receive help from people we would not have expected to help us. In our hour of need we can discover that our assessment of someone was unfair, that our expectations of others were far too ungenerous. The parable suggests that God can sometimes come to us in unfamiliar guises, and that his compassionate love can be revealed to us by the outsider, the stranger, the one we would normally have considered alien to us. The Jewish lawyer struggled to accept that God’s compassionate presence could be revealed through the despised Samaritan. The parable calls on us to allow God to come to us in and through those of God’s own choosing. The person we might normally have little time for can be God’s messenger to us.

And/Or

(iii) Monday, Twenty Seventh Week in Ordinary Time

In this morning’s gospel reading the lawyer asks two questions. The second question is ‘Who is my neighbour?’ The parable of the Good Samaritan is Jesus’ answer to that question. However, the parable, in reality, does not answer the question ‘Who is my neighbour?’ It answers a different question, ‘What does it mean to be a neighbour?’ That was the question Jesus himself asked at the end of the parable, ‘Which of these three proved himself a neighbour?’ Jesus implies that it is more important to be a neighbour than to ask ‘Who is my neighbour?’ The real neighbour doesn’t draw a distinction between those who are neighbours and those who are not. The real neighbour treats everyone in need as a neighbour, regardless of who they are, just as the Samaritan treated the broken traveller who was presumably a Jew as his neighbour. The lawyer was anxious to draw distinctions, ‘Who is my neighbour and who is not?’ Jesus, like the Samaritan, did not draw distinctions. He gave himself equally to all, whether they were Jews, Samaritans or pagans. He calls on his followers to do the same. We are to give expression to God’s compassionate presence to everyone without discrimination.

And/Or

(iv) Monday, Twenty Seventh Week in Ordinary Time

Any parable can speak to us in different ways. If we identify with one particular character in the parable it will speak to us in one way; if we identify with a different character the parable will speak to us in another way. We often hear the parable in this morning’s gospel reading as an invitation to identify with the character of the good Samaritan, as he is often called. The parable could also be heard as an invitation to identify with the broken traveller who lay on the roadside half dead. We have all known brokenness in various forms. We can be physically broken when we are unwell; we can be emotionally broken because of some heartbreaking experience; we can be mentally broken or, at least, mentally tired. In this morning’s parable the broken traveller, who was a Jew, would have been amazed to discover that the person who stopped to look after him was someone whom he would have regarded as his enemy, the Samaritan. It was the enemy, not the Jewish priest or Levite, who revealed to him the compassion of God. The parable suggests that in our brokenness the Lord can come in us in ways that will surprise us. The compassionate love of God can touch us in and through those with whom we seem to have very little in common. The parable invites us to be open to the many and varied and surprising ways that the Lord can come to us.

And/Or

(v) Monday, Twenty Seventh Week in Ordinary Time

In the gospel reading this morning, a lawyer asks Jesus two very important questions. He first asked Jesus, ‘What must I do to inherit eternal life?’ He then went on to ask him, ‘Who is my neighbour?’ It was in response to that second question that Jesus tells the parable of the good Samaritan. Yet, that parable doesn’t really answer the question, ‘Who is my neighbour?’ It answers another question, the question Jesus asks at the end of the parable, ‘Which of these three proved himself a neighbour?’ Jesus is suggesting that it is more important to be a neighbour to others than to be trying to work out ‘who is my neighbour?’ The answer to the lawyer’s first question, ‘What must I do to inherit eternal life?’ is ‘Be a neighbour’. The true neighbour does not ask the question ‘Who is my neighbour?’ The Samaritan didn’t ask whether the broken man by the roadside was a Jew or a Samaritan or a pagan; he was a fellow human being in need, and that was all that mattered. The Samaritan is a Jesus-figure. Jesus revealed God’s compassionate love to all in need, whether they were Jews, Samaritans or Gentiles. When Jesus says at the end of the parable, ‘God and do likewise’, he is calling on us to become his compassionate presence to others, especially to those most in need, regardless of who they are.

And/Or

(vi) Monday, Twenty Seventh Week in Ordinary Time

The story that Jesus tells in this morning’s gospel reading in response to a question of an expert in the Jewish Law is very familiar to us. We probably tend to hear it as a call to identify with the Samaritan who took care of the broken, half-dead, man on the roadside, when others had passed by. It does make that call on us. However, the story can also be inviting us to identify with the wounded traveller. We are all wounded in different ways; we are all in need of healing of some kind. If we identify with the wounded traveller, we might find ourselves wondering how he felt when someone he would have considered his ‘enemy’, a Samaritan, came to his help. This is the last person he would have expected to stop for him, because Jews and Samaritans had no dealings with each other at that time. He would have had to completely rethink his preconceived ideas about Samaritans. We may have had a similar experience. In our hour of need, someone we had no expectations of, someone we had written off, stands by us, when others we might have expected to help us leave us to our own devices. The Samaritan in the story is very much a Jesus figure. He displayed the same compassion that characterized the ministry of Jesus. One of the messages of this story is that the Lord can come to us in our need in and through the most unexpected of people. Whereas the expert in the Jewish Law who approached Jesus wanted clarity about who he should consider a neighbour, ‘Who is my neighbour?’, the Samaritan in the story Jesus told wasn’t interested in that question. His only concern was to be a neighbour to his fellow human being, whoever he or she might be. Such people always reveal the Lord to us.

And/Or

(vii) Monday, Twenty Seventh Week in Ordinary Time

In the gospels Jesus is revealed as someone who binds up the wounds of those who are broken in body, mind or spirit. He regularly stops and calls over those whom others pass by or goes over to them himself. In that sense the Samaritan in the story Jesus tells in today’s gospel is a Jesus figure. It is said of the Samaritan that when he saw the broken man by the roadside, he was moved with compassion for him. It is often said of Jesus in the gospels that he was moved with compassion for people. It is striking that in the parable Jesus portrays himself not as the priest or with the Levite, those traditionally considered to be holy, but as a Samaritan, someone who, from a Jewish point of view, would have been considered an outsider, excluded from God’s family. One of the messages of the parable is that Jesus can come to us in strange guises. The risen Lord is with us today as one who in his compassion reaches out to us to bind up our wounds. We can experience his compassionate presence in ways we might never have expected, just as the Jewish broken man by the roadside would have been surprised to discover that his compassionate healer was a Samaritan, a traditional enemy of the Jewish people. There is at least one other message in the parable. The Samaritan didn’t ask whether the broken man by the roadside was a Jew or a Samaritan or a pagan; he was a fellow human being in need, and that was all that mattered. Likewise, Jesus revealed God’s compassionate love to all in need, regardless of their race or creed. When Jesus says at the end of the parable, ‘God and do likewise’, he is calling on us to become his compassionate presence to others, especially to those most in need, regardless of who they are.

And/Or

(viii) Monday, Twenty Seventh Week in Ordinary Time

The question asked by the lawyer in the gospel reading, ‘What must I do to inherit eternal life?’ is a really important question. He knew the answer to his own question and, at the prompting of Jesus, he gave the answer from his own religious tradition. What he had to do to inherit eternal life was to love, to love God firstly with all his being, and then, inseparable from that first love, to love his neighbour as if the neighbour were his own self. That could have been the end of the conversation, but the lawyer had another question, ‘Who is my neighbour?’ If his first question was a really important one, his second question was a little problematic. In asking ‘Who is my neighbour?’ he was implying that some people were not his neighbour. The parable Jesus told in response to his second question showed that every human being in need is a neighbour. The injured man in the story was presumably a Jew. Yet, the one who helped him was a Samaritan, the traditional enemy of the Jew. For the Samaritan, this Jew lying by the roadside was not an enemy but a neighbour because his need was desperate. The Samaritan loved this Jewish man into life by his self-giving actions. The Samaritan didn’t ask the lawyer’s question, ‘Is this my neighbour?’ He simply got to work; he showed himself a neighbour to this broken man. At the end of the story Jesus tells the lawyer, ‘Go and do likewise’. Here was the answer to the lawyer’s question, ‘What must I do?’ Jesus is saying to him and to all of us, ‘Go and be a neighbour to those who cross your path in life, whoever they are, whatever their race, religion or creed’.Those who are truly a neighbour don’t ask ‘Who is my neighbour?’

And/Or

(ix) Monday, Twenty Seventh Week in Ordinary Time

Today’s gospel reading begins with a question addressed to Jesus by a lawyer, an expert in the Jewish Law, ‘What must I do to inherit eternal life?’ It was a very practical question, ‘What must I do?’ The gospel reading ends with Jesus saying to the lawyer, ‘Go and do likewise’, ‘Go and do what the Samaritan in the story did’. It is as if Jesus was saying, ‘You asked me what you are to do, and I am showing what you are to do by the parable, I have just told’. A very practical question was given a very practical answer. What was it that the Samaritan did in the story Jesus told? The first thing he did, and the most important thing he did, was that he allowed himself to be moved emotionally when he saw the half-dead traveller by the roadside. Two other people had already seen that sorry sight of the half-dead traveller and were unmoved. They saw the man, but they didn’t really see him. It was a surface seeing. The Samaritan’s seeing was an attentive seeing; he didn’t just see, he noticed, which is why he was moved emotionally by what he saw. As the gospel reading says, when the Samaritan saw the half dead man, he was moved with compassion. Because he was moved emotionally, he immediately started to move physically, engaging in a whole series of actions on behalf of his fellow traveller, bandaging the man’s wounds, pouring oil and wine on them, placing the man on his horse, carrying him to an inn and paying for him to be looked after, with the promise to pay more on his return journey if necessary. Every action the Samaritan performed was a step towards the poor unfortunate man’s healing. Yet, it all began with the Samaritan’s way of seeing this person in need. He saw him with the eyes of Jesus, compassionate eyes. It is often said of Jesus in the gospel story that he saw and had compassion. The story Jesus told invites us to ask ourselves. ‘How do we see others? How attentive is our seeing? Do I allow myself to be moved by what I see? It is significant that in the story the person who saw with the eyes of Jesus was an outsider, a Samaritan, someone consider by Jews at the time as not belonging to God’s people. He wasn’t religious in the conventional Jewish sense. Jesus may be reminding us through even people not considered religious in the conventional sense can make his compassionate ministry present to those who need it most.

Fr. Martin Hogan.

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harryweaver · 4 years

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Baseline

Individual Point of Perception is Dependent on Conditioned Mode of Thought.

Our conditioned mode of thought is determined by a number of aspects including:

our formal educational conditioning;

our cultural background;

the perceived power personalities that influence our sociological conditioning;

...to name a few.

I originally began this article with a view to confining it within the first classification of educational conditioning, but by way of natural process all seemed to apply.

Then, as it felt presumptuous and unwieldy to force a subject scope worthy of a treatise into a blog format, I have had to restrict the situation to how science has influenced and placed limits on our thinking.

Very much in shorthand....

All of science is based on direction defined by philosophy and Rene Descartes appears to have been the pivotal point in this instance. He introduced a way of perceiving things that took an observable entity and broke it down, analytically, into its individual unit parts. Dualism and other aspects, illuminating then, seem second nature to us now.

The evolution of this form of thinking was passed on into the capable hands of Francis Bacon who, in turn, hand balled it to Isaac Newton, both of whom provided substantial modifications to advance this concept of fragmentation. What we have inherited is what might be termed the 'Doctrine of Direction' for the entire westernised civilisation.

What these theorists neglected to consider and what Quantum theory is in the process of giving back, to those of us who care to take note, is an appreciation of the 'links' or aspects of interrelationship between these basic building blocks of fragmented, alienated entities. An aspect every bit as important as the 'units' themselves, as it is only by way of these continuously, communicating interfaces that we arrive at wholistic entities that are greater than the sum of their individual parts.

Unfortunately, we still model our mode of individual and collective advancement on the thought structures that built Empires that have long ago ceased to exist. Momentum, obviously, is capable of carrying us too far in the wrong direction.

I don't wish to appear to be a detractor of the theories of these giants of our past, or even of the ones who 'stood on their shoulders', who took those theories and gave them application within the sociological framework. What I am attempting is to show how the limited style of scientific mindset, that is drilled into us by way of our current educational process, has engendered our individual and therefore collective point of perception. This in turn has determined our current life situation. Man is a reflection of his environment, yes, but the opposite is every bit as true.

We have made fantastic advances with our 'scientific' thinking. We can gauge, almost to the centimetre, where we can land a rocket on the moon, over an almost unimaginable distance, with a mind numbing number of variables all taken into account. And after that, bring it back again. We are communicating concepts through mediums such as we are employing at this very moment, as you read this, and there are a myriad of other examples.

But, there is a dark side.

Having adopted, through conditioning, this mode of perception, we have alienated ourselves from our environment, from each other and even created alienation within our very selves. Our 'self' from this viewpoint, by way of illustration, does not include our body. 'I' am a separate entity and my body is a mere physical, mechanical housing, when in fact our bodies are a fully incorporated aspect of our 'selves'.

'Us and Them' is destroying 'Us'.

Take a look at what our alienating point of perception is doing:

(1) to our shared environment. We consider our 'selves' to be a separate entity to our environment, rather than an integral, interacting aspect of it, so any harm we inflict on the environment has no real effect on our situation, we surmise. (The comparative example of this would be that of a race of people, traveling through endless space, systematically destroying the space ship they are traveling in.) There have been highly qualified, dissenting voices to this supposition. Even economists, like E.F. Schumacher, who advise that, "If we ever find ourselves in the position of winning our battle with nature, we will automatically find ourselves on the losing side". Conditioned thought structure, however, pays little heed to logic, unless it is incorporated into an 'approved' educational process and therefore transposed into the paradigm;

(2) to our estranged sense of interrelationships. By over emphasising the self concept, to compensate for a social structure that appears intent on drowning the individual in a sea of homogenised anonymity, we automatically place almost insurmountable barriers to interpersonal integration;

(3) within our fragmented personal selves. In this context, the major effort appears to be the creation and continuous maintenance of a self image rather than the cultivation of the actual personality. A self image that bears little relation to the real person hiding within, who sadly perceives the camouflage to be more socially acceptable than him 'self'. Applied to extreme, the individual places so much personal energy into the maintenance of this persona, that he 'starves' himself. A major cause of mental dis-ease and what can amount to total breakdown of the individual existence.

Relationships can only exist between personalities. Relationships are not possible between facades, which are essentially illusions, so the illusion that they do doesn't exist for any length of time. This somewhat pointless exercise only exists because many believe that it's all they have to offer, as the real entity is seen as being insufficient to the situation.

One of the many sociological phenomena that appears to endorse all this is the fact that, in all westernised countries, divorce statistics come close to equaling marriage statistics and quite commonly surpass them.

It's a little unfair, however, to endow philosophers and scientists with the full responsibility of our present life situation. There are other buttressing influences. Sir Isaac Newton's writings within other fields were for all intents and purposes totally ignored, as they still are. The bias of thought at that time was all for the new clockwork bent that held so much potential for industrial advancement, as it still does. An illustration as to how long the industrial lobby, by way of political sway, has been placing paradigms on the full spectrum potential of our advancement as a species.

So, just while we are in the vicinity:

A corporate entity doesn't have a personality, other than the one on loan and frequently patched from the public relations departments, so don't look for human qualities;

The corporate ideal is to be in the position of dictating to the marketplace (yes, that's you!) and they never sleep in the pursuit of this goal;

Corporate entities see themselves as being subject to only one law and that's the law of economics. When economic precept shows any potential to limit short term profit, they're not above bending that out of shape either.

This latter point requires a little expansion, I feel.

Feel free to disagree.

According to the science of economics, there are two varieties of resource: rivalrous and non-rivalrous. A rivalrous resource is one that can be used up faster than it can be replaced, if it can be replaced at all, e.g., fossil fuels and the natural environment. A non-rivalrous resource, on the other hand, is a resource that is inexhaustible, i.e., it can't be exhausted as it is continuously replacing itself at a rate faster than it can be employed.

Now, considering the fact that human beings breed their own replacements, in the sort of volumes commonly described as 'population explosions', which of these two categories do you imagine employees slot into, within the corporate mindset, in these days of outsourcing?

`Safety before Production’, is the corporate catchphrase, but it will never be the reality because it doesn't need to be. An appearance is put up in order to establish a good 'Employer Brand Name', yes, but mostly because other powerful economic entities like insurance companies 'persuade' them to do so. And insurance companies are only prepared to do that because it has direct bearing on their own economic status.

This automatically creates another translation of the 'Us and Them' syndrome, the 'Divide and Rule' format. Musashi's 'The Book of Five Rings' and Sun Tzu's 'The Art of War', amongst other treatise on war strategy, make their way into every board room these days under the arms of those who would subordinate their productive work force to their will. Strategies that work within one set of environmental circumstances don't necessarily translate well into others, however, and 'Divide and Rule' is a classic example. When looking at a combined productive exercise, it simply isn't profitable to view and treat your production sector as though they are the enemy. This will automatically cost you money and the longer you persist with a faulty strategy, the more it will cost you. The variety of tactics employed, to gain the 'ascendency', are far from what is required to assist in establishing a sense of cooperation and self worth within the individuals that make up the bulk of westernised populations. And a sense of self worth is the foundation stone of a happy individual. A happy employee is more productive and produces a better quality product, so the strategy is obviously flawed.

Our mode of technological advancement has cost us dear, obvious in the stultified mental and spiritually bereft realms we have allocated to ourselves, from a set of values that is blinkered to the full spectrum definition of wealth. I have met people who, having worked continuously for, say, $500.00/week for a number of years, don't even consider pressing for more when their mode of employment changes, because they have been conditioned, over time, into believing that $500.00/week is their sum total worth as a human being. The comprehensive definitions of degradation and defeat are achieved when the victim is persuaded.

If western civilisation (sic), would just halt its frenetic, lemming-like race to the cliff edge long enough to look at the life philosophies of the various indigenous cultures on this planet, we would be in a position to provide ourselves with the requisite wholistic life perception required to save ourselves, and those same indigenous communities, from that inevitable extinction that we are imposing on other species at this very moment.

A different way of seeing is there, for our adoption, any time we want it. We find it not just in the wholistic, indigenous community and environmental Gaia mindsets, but in the most obscure of niches as well as the most obvious of places.

By way of an 'obscure' example, I recall reading Aleister Crowley's 'Magick' in the dawning of my adolescent rebellion, somewhere between Enid Blyton and 'The Russians'.

Wholly from memory:

`The practitioner of Black Magic employs his art to raise his level of existence above that of his environment’ - which doesn't sound so bad really, does it? Just looking round, it appears to be what everybody is doing, or attempting to do. Yes/No?

But then he goes on to say:

`Whereas the practitioner of White Magic employs his talent to raise the level of his environment, and in so doing raises his own level of existence’.

A totally different translation of existence, richer by far, achieved by a mere shift in perception.

As a natural extension of our adopting this different definition of existence, the changes within our culture would be dynamic to say the least. Mental health institutions would almost cease to exist, as the dysfunctional personality is no more than a symptom of the dysfunctional group. The dysfunctional group, no more than a symptom of a dysfunctional social order. Primary catalysts of physical ill health, such as stress, would almost cease to exist also, along with associated overloaded hospital systems and massive requirement for, along with associated abuse of, medication.

Street people would not feel a need to retreat to the streets anymore, but would see a form of society that they would want to be a part of. A form of society that they could see themselves as being a part of, alienated no longer.

Dare I mention prisons?

I could continue, but I'm sure you get the gist.

All aspects of our social and personal direction are compromised when we operate from a biased or false premise. Our proud, emphatic (dare I say, arrogant?) denunciations of 'this is wrong', or 'that's not right' appear as shallow as mainstream media. Any observation from a false premise can only produce an inaccurate end assessment. A silk purse don't come from no sows ear, boy!

Therefore it naturally follows that judging others, or even ourselves, by our own standards is automatically a travesty of natural justice and nothing more than a gross, if unintended, hypocrisy. Because we, unquestioningly, inherit standards of judgment also.

It is possible to establish valid existence only by exploring the depths of established standards, understand where they stem from and, by doing so, determine as to whether they still have relevance in regard to personal existence, now, in our current environment. Retain the standards that do have relevance, rid ourselves of false standards that represent the crippling detritus in our lives, and adopt any new standards that are seen to promote required existential standing.

This is normally considered to be the philosophers function, yes, but a little philosophy won't hurt any of us if it results in our finally reaping the substantial rewards of a valid sense of social responsibility. We have that duty to ourselves, each other and toward our shared environment. Wholistically.

The answer to all the worlds' problems lie in the future within our children, but we need people qualified to teach them how to move the world, through a paradigm shift, from here to there. There's only one way to achieve that, so we need to get to work on ourselves, individually, very quickly.

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nofearofwaves · 4 years

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Some Rise of Skywalker Thoughts

Everything is a spoiler, so click through at your own risk.

I left The Last Jedi with tears in my eyes. I cried in the bathroom at the theater. But they were good tears. Luke Skywalker’s death hit me hard, but his arc felt complete. It felt right. It felt like his death, like Vader’s, was a true redemption. It felt like it mattered.

Rise of Skywalker is not worthy of Luke’s death. Rise of Skywalker is a soulless bait-and-switch that gives us nothing Star Wars hasn’t given us before, when it was in the perfect position to give us redemption by life and living.

I will start with some positives. This is not going to be a complete review; I don’t know if I’ll ever care enough about RoS to actually review it.

Lando was fun, as, unlike some of the original cast, he wasn’t overbearing and he actually looked like he was having fun.

Leia’s stuff was more extensive than I thought it would be. It’s awkward because it’s franken-footage, but it does give her much-needed closure; more on that later.

Rey gets her own saber, at last. Of course, only right at the end and we don’t see her building it and it’s not a saberstaff, but it’s something.

Rey, Finn, and Poe share a lot of screen time, which is fun. Of course, it only drives home how little of that we’ve had in the trilogy thus far. TLJ’s major misstep for me was that it didn’t include enough of this found-family dynamic.

Some of Kylo Ren’s early dialogue is precisely the romantic, purply-prose stuff that I go for. Dark proposals and all. Good stuff.

Some of the alien worlds, designs, and prosthetics were cool. Unfortunately, there was also a heavier percentage of CGI stuff that was distracting, especially when juxtaposed with the overwhelming use of practical effects from earlier films.

Several of the fight scenes are good, though nothing can compare with the snowy woods fight and the throne room fight of previous movies. I have seen critics praising the visuals of this movie, but they were altogether too fast, enormous, and choppy for me.

Some of the comedic beats, especially including C-3PO, are legit funny.

And now, the shitshow.

Rey Palpatine. Dear God, why? I understand some people were disappointed by TLJ’s reveal of Rey Nobody, but I thought that was genius. Why does legacy matter? The Force belongs to everybody, as it should. Rey being powerful doesn’t matter; unlike Kylo, who is crushed by his legacy, she is freed by the lack of it.

I can’t even explain how cheesy this becomes. There’s a long, long, long sequence with Palpatine tempting her into killing him while shadows of all the other Sith ghosts stand in stadium seating and chanting, and it’s so damn cheesy and bombastic. I could watch the temptation scenes from Return of the Jedi over and over again because Palpatine is so oily and the whole scene is so intimate and quiet and you are watching Luke see and imagine his friends’ deaths from a distance and ugh, this movie doesn’t have the slightest shadow of that and it thinks it does.

Also, Rey is literally never tempted to join him. She hates him in a vague kind of way because, it’s revealed, he killed her parents, but she relinquishes that very early and only agrees to kill him(?) to buy time for Kylo to reach her.

Palpatine’s motivation also changes about three times.

He wants Kylo to kill Rey, because, as Kylo says, he’s afraid of her supplanting him.

But no! Palpatine wants her to kill him because then she’ll inherit the legacy of the Sith, even if her heart isn’t in it and she doesn’t hate while she does it. Very confusing.

And last! When he cannot turn her, he settles instead for draining the life from her and Ben, a “dyad in the Force”, which revives him.

On that point, uh, couldn’t he just have done that from the start anyway? He’s clearly not opposed to coming back to full power. Why not just drain Rey and be done with it?

Ben Solo, who is truly Ben Solo by the end, dies. He gives Rey a kiss of life, after fighting through his Knights to get to her, and dies. The last Skywalker is dead, and though Rey “rises” in their place, the Skywalkers are over and Palpatine killed them. As he always wanted to.

So much for the big stuff. Let me end with some small, nitpicky things that bugged me:

All the deaths, save Ben’s, are undone. There’s a truly shocking moment where Rey thinks her unhinged power has killed Chewie, but no! He’s on another transport. C-3PO agrees to a memory wipe to get some vital information out of his head? Undone when he sees R2, who has been backing up his memory this whole time. If you’re gonna walk back a death, at least give it some time. How else are we supposed to feel anything otherwise?

Where was ROSE?! They tease her coming along on the trio’s mission and she says she has to stay back for Leia’s sake, but then they don’t do anything with that. She’s just not on the mission because reasons, and the most interesting character from TLJ is now out of the story. Because reasons.

Poe’s sudden backstory that gets no payoff and only exists to give him all the skills he needs at any given point. Now with more romantic baggage from a woman’s face we never see!

The Knights of Ren, given huge visual weight in the first third of the movie, just disappear until Kylo fights them right at the end, in a scene that could have been a callback to the TLJ throne room fight except everything is bad and boring. None of them speak, even to tell them why they’re suddenly cool with betraying Kylo, their master. None of them seems even vaguely troubled by killing him, even though literally no one has asked them to.

Finn wants to tell Rey something. We all know what it is. He never says it. It is brought up several times, with increasingly frustrating effects.

There are more, but I’m tired. I’m tired, tired, tired of putting my love and thought and energy into a story that betrays me. I’m over death as redemption. I’m over hearing that people can never come back from the evil they’ve done. I’m sick of it, y’all.

I can deal with tragedy. But it has to make sense, it has to. This isn’t real life, where bad things happen and we don’t know why and we can’t stop it. This is fiction. I want sacrifices to matter, I want closure.

They said this ending was about hope, that it was hopeful. But God, I just can’t see it.

And now, I will erase the memory of this movie from my databanks forever, and try to resist the urge to rewrite the entire sequel trilogy because, good God, a monkey with a typewriter could do better than this.

#star wars #star wars spoilers #the rise of skywalker spoilers #tros spoilers

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