#and ironically I wrote hundreds of pages for it

[allseeinganalyst]

One way I know that my self-imposed “get your shit together, focus on what brings you joy and ditch the baggage before you’re 30” challenge is working is that I’m thinking about bringing back my old self-insert character from that fanfic I wrote in 2012 that I was so ashamed of.

[angelesca]

forbidden love: the tree and the butterfly w.c. ~800

cerces waxing fanfic about you and anaxagoras to maintain the agenda (w/ the chrysos heirs being silly)

23/04/25) edited! bc im a certified idiot with no braincells IM SO SORRYYYY!!😭😭

“Have you read the latest volume of 'Forbidden Love: The Tree and the Butterfly'?”

“Who hasn't?! The chemistry between the main characters is such a breath of fresh air! The two are constantly arguing, the tension had me kicking my feet!”

“Say... doesn't Broccoligoras, the male lead, remind you of Professor Anaxagoras...?”

“!!! You make a good point! A face as stern as stone, but a heart of gold. So dreamy~”

Anaxagoras simply smirks—heh—hearing his students behind him.

You gag, feeling the previously digested meal lurch. “So, Broccoligoras—I mean, Anaxagoras,” you speak up, trying to drown the voices. “Are you going to ask your dear parent to stop writing us in situations I would rather die before experiencing?”

“Cerces is not my”—Anaxagoras stops, taking a deep breath. Then, a knowing chuckle—“your childish ploys to rouse my temper work naught on me, blind follower of Romance. Try harder, won't you?”

You roll your eyes at his challenge. “Why are students of the Grove of Epiphany so engrossed with this... interesting literature, anyways? I would never share a bed with you, just because there happened to be only one.”

“That's not the important part,” Anaxagoras tuts, crossing his arms. “Cerces must possess iron guts, to be massacring my upstanding character without a care."

“You mean with how Broccoligoras is handsome, smart, green, and tall? Unlike you?”

“Excuse me?” Anaxagoras shoots a glare. “Those are all truth (he's green?), especially the tall part—what I'm referring to is some of the degrading remarks by Broccoligoras about dromases, written in poor taste.” Tut tut.

You mumble, “You crazed dromas freak...”

“Do you think that offensive? That is of highest praise—I am not to be categorised with laymen, thank you.”

Before you can retort, Hyacine suddenly appears, stopping you in your tracks, eyes gleaming. In her hands—you sigh—a volume of 'Forbidden Love: The Tree and the Butterfly'. Is this secretly Cerces's plan for world domination?

Hyacine shakes your hand, and then Anaxagoras's. “Congratulations on the engagement you two!”

You almost exploded on the spot. Hyacine was one step away from being charged with your murder. “What?!"

She tilts her head, opening the book. “Am I wrong? But Cerces wrote it here...”

“Page two-thousand-and-two-hundred,” Anaxagoras says, “is when the main character proposes to Broccoligoras after debating him for twelve nights straight. Then, they rode off into the sunset on a dromas. Quite romantic.”

“Oh, right!” Hyacine nods. "My favourite part, very romantic indeed.”

Two-thousand-and-two-hundred pages? Is Cerces's only hobby to torture you both with their prose? You rub your temples. “I hate to say this, but I think their propaganda is working.”

Anaxagoras shakes his head. “You mean to say—heh... You are enraptured by my greatness after all?”

Your hands goes straight for his throat, in your head. A thought crosses your mind. “Wait, how did you know the exact page?”

Silence. A single bead of sweat rolls down Anaxagoras's good eye. He doesn't even blink it away. “Only a scholar is allowed to question. I won't answer.”

Suddenly, a student barges into Anaxagoras, thud, shouting a hasty apology as they run off. You look down at what dropped from Anaxagoras, stunned.

Hyacine beams a bright smile. “Oh, Professor Anaxagoras! You're a fan of 'Forbidden Love: The Tree and the Butterfly' too?”

... Behind a wall were Tribbie, Castorice, Phainon, and Mydei huddled together, spying on you and Anaxagoras. Aglaea, clearly the only mature one, had better things to do.

Phainon holds the latest volume of 'Forbidden Love: The Tree and the Butterfly'. “Wow,” He reads a page in the book, looking at you and Anaxagoras. “It's just like in the book.”

“Let us see!" Tribbie pulls Phainon down to her level, scanning the words. “Wow! Just like in the book! Do they ever tire of arguing?”

Mydei grunts. “What are you guys on about?” He peers over Phainon's shoulder. “Ugh... it's just like in the book.”

Castorice nods slowly. “I have collected O' venerable Master Cerces's (?) books since the first release. I can say too... Wow, it's just like in the book.”

Phainon pauses before saying, “I thought you weren't on good terms with Cerces, Castorice?”

"We made up after they revived my favourite character, Costa-Rica, in the twentieth volume."

Mydei groans for the hundreth time. "Cerces is not even trying to hide it," He scans the book. "My-day...? Oh, come on. And Paimon?"

Phainon asks, "Who?"

"Hey!" Tribbie averts the topic. “The book! What happens next?”

“Right,” Phainon clears his throat, recclaiming the book from Mydei. “Next... A carriage hits Broccoligoras into the main character which results in an accidental kiss–”

A loud crash is heard. The Chrysos Heirs are too stunned to speak.

Mydei scratches his chin. “Does Cerces happen to be a fortune teller? Maybe I'll pay them a visit to see if I need to re-evaluate my friends.”

...

... Huddled behind a pile of books in their sanctuary, Cerces works through the endless books while brainstorming.

“Hmm... soulmates? Or should I write childhood sweethearts next? How about marriage of convenience?”

a/n: forbidden love: the tree and the butterly is an actual book in the game, which is where i got the inspo from lmao. cerces just like me frfr. 3.1 hurt me, so i have silly fluff drafts for all of us after the pain</33

[sparklystarrrr]

haha true to my word, I have riddle. Riddle with white rabbit beastwoman! Reader. Like she’s very ditzy and clumsy but always follows him around. Idk it’s just an idea

YAHOO HEY MOOTIE PATOOTIE!!!! That's acc the cutest idea ever I'm gonna explode. I will forever love the idea of a white rabbit character in Heartslabyul

Hopping Into Your Heart

Synopsis: Heartslabyul's favorite white rabbit is too clumsy for her own good!

Contains: Riddle R. x Fem! White Rabbit! Reader, reader is shorter than Riddle, post overblot Riddle, lowkey kinda cheesey

The Unbirthday plan was set. Students rallied up in hundreds of groups and got to work on things like desserts, croquet animal tending, tablecloth ironing and so on. (y/n) was in charge of aiding Riddle, checking in on everyone, and making sure everyone would be on time. Having three jobs put on one person was quite grueling. Although (y/n) knew exactly how to do it. She’d done it many times before and Heartslabyul trusted her as a main part in Unbirthday planning. Riddle luckily had similar jobs of checking in and making sure everyone was on time, though he was a bit more lenient than before. It was easy for (y/n) to stick at Riddle’s hip like usual when performing her tasks. 

The bunny carried a clipboard thick with multiple checklists atop each other, a red pom-pom pen in her other hand. She had been checking off all tasks and details needed for the party. “We only have a few things left, Riddle! W-would you like to go over them?” She spoke with a slight stutter from how fast she spoke. “Do you mind reading them out to me?” He replied with a much slower pace, his eyes shifting from the boys at work to her. He peered over her shoulder while she read aloud. 

“We still need to complete setting the table cloths, laying out the decorations, setting the silverware and china, brewing the tea, making the cake… I feel like I’m forgetting something.” She muttered. Her nose twitched as she thought while her foot thumped on the floor causing a thumping sound. “The dorm mou-“ “AH! The dorm mouse! My oh my, how could I forget!” Her big (e/c) eyes widened and she feverishly wrote “Dorm mouse inside the tea pot” towards the bottom of the page with an empty check box next to it.

“I deeply apologize Housewarden! Shall we go on the next task now? Nevermind, if we don’t we may be late, let’s go!” She quickly grasped Riddle’s gloved hand and hopped outside where the students were laying the tablecloths. “(y/n)! Slow down please, we have much time to spare!” The red haired boy yelped. Though he didn’t shake the bunny girl off his wrist. She went straight down the path to check on all the students. She looked down and engrossed herself in her check list when all of a sudden she tripped over her fast moving feet. The clipboard and pen flew out of her hands and landed roughly on the floor. Riddle sped up to her and grabbed the fabric on her waist, pulling her in to his body as quickly as he could before she fell to the ground.

“H-HOUSEWARDEN!!” Her fluffy white ears shot up to the sky and her face turned a bright red. “(y/n), please watch your step next time!" His own cheeks started to dust a strawberry red as well. She jumped out of his warm arms and collected her things, "I-I DEEPLY APOLOGIZE HOUSEWARDEN W-WE MUST BE OFF!!" She once again sped walked around the yard, looking around and giving herself whiplash. Though she would never realize it, her pom-pom tail was wagging like CRAZY. Riddle was pulled from his dumbfounded trance and giggled at her fast-paced movements. He then caught up to her with a light jog, since that was needed to match her walking speed.

There was but a singular table which had yet to be decorated with vases of flowers and silverware, or even chairs for that matter. Just a completely blank table. Its bland appearance made it camouflage in the back corner, hiding behind tables that had been filled with decorations already. The table cloth draped onto the grassy floor of Heartslabyul and trailed out like wings blowing gracefully in the wind. Little did said table cloth know the tornado it would endure in just a few seconds.

(Y/n) made her quick stride towards the tables. She zoomed between tables and perked her ears in every which direction while scanning for unfinished duties. While she zipped along, Riddle urgently tried to keep up. Though, with the heeled boots of his uniform and her strong legs propelling her forward against the breeze it was near impossible to match her. "(y/n), would you slow down just a bit? I'm having trouble keeping up!" He aimlessly yelped."S-sorry Housewarden, but if these duties are not done by the set time, we will be late!!!"

She took herself over to the corner of the last tables that needed to be checked. At the sight of the blank table she slowed down just enough as to wear Riddle could catch up with a heaving chest and thick gasping breaths.”Oh my! This table is quite bear, is anyone working on thi- W-WOAH!-” In her hurried frenzy the girl tripped right over the pristine white cloth. The redheaded boy behind her tried to grab out to her just like before, but he went tumbling down with her. The two fell to the ground enveloped by the cotton threads that pulled them closer“(Y-(Y/N)! Are you alright?!! You must watch your step!” His eyes scanned her face that was underneath him.

Thats right. The two were in the unfortunate position of him landing atop her, gloved hands at each side of her head. With her hair pooling gently over the blades of grass and the dazed expression on her face, he couldn’t help but stare. They stiffened. “HOUSEWARDEN ROSEHEARTS!! THIS IS QUITE INAPPROPRIATE OF ME I DO SINCERELY APOLOGIZE- FORGIVE MEEE!!!” Her face bloomed a hot red and she jumped out from under him. His face turned a crimson that rivaled his own locks

”(y/n) i-it’s completely alright! Just I- ah…” He looked down seemingly in shame and while rubbing his neck while (y/n) bounced away. Trey came over and assessed the situation,”Yeah, we weren’t using that table anyways. One of the students over counted. Are you alright Riddle?” He took a hand to Riddle’s forehead. “You don’t seem sick or anything… oh. oh…” The green haired boy’s lips formed a smirk and looked in the direction the shorter boy was focused on. (Y/n) was still bright strawberry red while talking to the giggling Cater and Adeuce duo, and she was exactly in Riddle’s yearning view. Trey snickered.

“What Trey? Why are you laughing??” The younger boy questioned. “If you really want her that bad just ask. Even bring her a rose and ask her out for tea.” Riddle’s eyes widened and he pulled them quickly away from the bunny he s dearly adored. “Trey! How could you say that!? have no feelings for her…” his tone wavered and his lips quivered. He knew the blatant lie he spoke just then. He was too shy to fully say it. He knew that his feelings were true, but the girl was to hard to read. She was always ditzy and jumpy, that was her personality. Yeah sure she would be much more jumpy and sensitive with him, but was that a surefire sign she felt the same? Riddle was too dense to put the dots together. In that case, Trey did it for him.

“Her favorite roses are the unpainted ones. She also enjoys herbal and floral teas more than fruity ones.” Trey whispered to him. Riddle furrowed his brows,”Why are you telling me this…” knowing damn well he would be taking it into close consideration. Trey plopped a half painted rose into his hands. “Riddle, you know exactly why i’m telling you this.” Trey sounded almost ominous if not for the small smile on his face. The redhead pursed his lips in deep thought and twirled the flower in his hand. “You wouldn’t mind bringing out the King’s chair… would you?” he murmured just above his breath.

“Not at all. Go shoot your shot, I’m rooting for you.” The green haired boy said before walking off, giving him a light pat on the back. Riddle exhaled. He just had to ask her out. How hard could that be?

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the other three Heartslabyul boys pushing a seemingly unwilling (y/n) in his direction. As much as she tried to pounce away, they shoved her forward. Her face had flushed a warm pink and her ears flattened against her head. He gripped the rose as if a gust of wind would blow it from his hands. His feet moved before he could even think, “What do you buffoons think you’re doing?!” He shot at the boys pushing her towards him. With a big push, Adeuce and Cay-cay shoved a screaming (y/n) into Riddle’s arms once more. Her head pressed against his beating chest as he caught her, blushing much more than before when he saw her. “What have I told you about watching your step… this is the third time today (y/n).” His voice was laced with a soft tone, one would even call it caring. His face was bright red and his lips trembled. His hand that held the rose  shook slightly and he pulled her off him.

Before she could panic and apologize feverishly, he spoke with a stutter which was incredibly out of character for Housewarden Rosehearts,”(y-(y/n)… I’m not sure how to approach this.” His voice was much smaller than he would like. Her eyes were wide with something different from the anxiety and rush that she usually felt. Her ears flopped on her head much more naturally now. Riddle held his arms in front of him with the flower in hand, trying his best to make eye contact and be confident knowing how nervous he was.”Would it be alright if I… courted you? O-obviously I understand if the feeling is unreciprocated. It felt like I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you how I really feel….”His grey eyes averted hers while she remained wide eyed.

Her lips parted to speak but nothing came out. She was starstruck. She slipped her watch back into her pocket and grabbed the stem of the rose gently. Her eyes glittered as she gazed at the flower in her hand. Riddle stood with trembling hands clasped behind his back, unsure of her reaction with eyes gazing at the tops of his shoes. Suddenly, a soft crunch came from the girl followed by a soft moan one would usually make when eating something delicious, then another crunch and some chewing. Once his eyes shot up he saw the picture before him… (y/n) had been eating the rose he gave her. She licked her lips,”Wow Riddle, I didn’t know you knew how to get the most delicious flowers! How did you know roses were my favorite?” she asked while plucking the petals off and popping them in with a satisfied smile. 

Riddle stammered. "Ah- Yes um... I-it was purely instinct..?" His tone of voice betrayed him and showed how confused he was. The bunny popped the whole flower into her mouth with a happy crunch, gulping it down and humming happily. He still looked at her expectantly. He awaited an answer to his previous statement. He straightened himself up and spoke a bit more confidently"...Do you accept my feelings for you, (y/n)?" Her fluffy tail wagged as she gasped, suddenly realizing his words. "Oh my... Yes!" Her cheeks became equivalent to a bright cherry. She realized her words just after.

Her voice grew small and she thought for a bit on what to say. "I-I mean I uhhh.... I-i have a lot of feelings for you too..."She was just about to hop away when Riddle took her hand in his. "Shall we go for tea tomorrow?"He smiled softly. (y/n) felt her world stop as their gaze was stuck between them. "Yea... that would be really nice!" She giggled. "Come, there's a seat waiting for you beside me." Riddle snickered with her, pulling her alongside him and bringing her to sit in the King's chair brought out by Trey just a few moments before. Riddle pulled out her chair with grace, (y/n) sat down with glee she hadn't felt in quite a while. He poured both of them a cup of rose tea while she cut him a slice of strawberry tart. The two were sure to be the most adorable couple in all of Night Raven College.

I made this long for no reason but I just love my boy Widdle🤭💋

[some-triangles]

I've been on tumblr since 2011, and this is technically a sideblog. My creative focus shifted over here, to - I guess what could loosely be referred to as fandom space? It was Homestuck's fault - many years ago, and I more or less consciously decided to shift the original blog's purpose from writing little bits of poetry about weird birds to finding bird videos on other platforms that I thought could go viral and reposting (stealing) them. (Always credited, of course. I'm not a monster.) This worked pretty well, and now I have 6000+ followers over there. Since I never use it to promote anything or for any purpose beyond birdposting I feel OK about this as an experiment. I mostly use it to people-watch.

The latest video I have gaining traction over there is one my friend Rat sent me (one of many friends who either found me through birds or Homestuck and each is equally plausible) in which a pelican at a petting zoo is forced to cough up the gosling it was attempting to swallow by a handler who has clearly had to deal with this many times before. She then frogmarches (birdmarches?) it away by its beak. Good stuff, and very on brand, as I've been warning people about the horrors of pelican vore for ages. (I even got my very own pervert for a while, an anon who kept badgering various bird blogs to write about what it might be like to be swallowed.) When something I post starts doing numbers I like to watch the notes and tags, because it fascinates me how people like to make the same jokes, over and over and over. Not even their own jokes. I have never fully understood this but it's undeniably foundational to the way the internet works. Like, I get dropping References in conversation - social glue and all that, fun and funny - but in a public forum? Where you could literally check and see how many people have said the same thing before you got to it? Baffling. Universal.

Anyway. We started slow with this one, and we had some discerning folks doing Democracy Manifest bits - succulent avian meal, and all that. As references go it's a pretty good one, as it has its own wikipedia page and everything, and it's timely with Jack Karlson's recent passing. There were a few I am Forcibly Escorted From tags, which is nice, since you don't hear that one much these days. A bunch of quotidian "she's so done" or "like a toddler being dragged by his ear" observations, mostly uninspiring, although the specificity of one person's "my mom dragging me into the church bathroom to whoop my ass" was worth sharing. A little bit of the classic concern trolling you get with any animal video - why indeed is this bird being kept in the same place as all these edible little guys? But, inevitably, because it is the perfect time to use it, most people went with "put baby in pelican mouth."

And the thing about this is that I know the person who wrote the original "put baby in pelican mouth" post. We met through tumblr. She was absolutely inspired by my pelican posting to write that piece, and I know that because we ended up dating. It ended badly, and I still have regrets about it, and now, every time I make a pelican post, I am treated to a choir of strangers - literally hundreds of them - repeating a joke which was written by my ex-girlfriend. It's straight from the ironic punishment division, really. But birdpost I must, and tagwatch I must.

Anyway, Nikki, if you're out there, hope you're doing well.

[oqmemphis]

i MUST hear more about this very normal and completely functional minecraft server. please spill more details

Before the last world reset, there was a region a few hundred blocks across which was permanently lit as though it were noon 24 hours a day, because one of the admins replaced every air block with an invisible level 15 light block. Directly next to this was a former ocean that got turned into a vast plain of packed ice stretching in every direction; you could stand in the middle of it and it would be indistinguishable from superflat.

On that old world, the market next to spawn had about a 50% chance of completely locking up my game any time I went there, and the only way to fix it was to go into Task Manager and force-crash Minecraft. Nobody else ever had this issue, and to this day I do not know what caused it.

There was an entirely separate world containing a single castle, which you could only get to if the owner of the castle teleported you in there. The castle was supposed to be surrounded by an inescapable dome of barrier blocks, but I managed to get out and explore the rest of the world. At 0,0 there was a village that had generated in a massive pit, a hundred blocks across and stretching nearly to bedrock. Immediately next to this pit was a frozen river bearing the shatter pattern of some kind of large explosion, set off by forces unknown.

Someone built an outpost one million blocks away from spawn. Those chunks got culled at some point, and when the player who built it went back there they found a completely different landscape generated in its place. There was never an update that changed terrain generation during that world's run.

Recently, the functionality of rails got completely inverted. Unpowered rails would accelerate a minecart, while powered ones would stop it in its tracks. This, at least, was just an issue with one plugin being configured wrong. Sometimes there are issues where multiple plugins exist alongside each other fight for dominance.

We have one plugin that allows some players to fly and resist all fall damage without elytra or equipment, and another plugin that (until recently) was configured to block the first plugin from functioning whenever you were in another player's land claim. This led to situations where you could fly into an invisible claim region and instantly drop out of the sky and die. I have died seven times on this world, and all of them were because of this.

There is an obsidian sphere about a hundred blocks across, mostly submerged in the ocean; elsewhere, there is an island of comparable size which is covered entirely in basalt; and elsewhere still, there is a region of forest that has been fully replaced with sculk. I know this because I am currently making a map of the server covering around 12000x12000 blocks, and all those places just show up as mysterious, cursed splotches of black.

There is a lot of lore and roleplaying. The Queen is both fae and vampiric; my queries as to how precisely a diet of blood is reconciled with an iron allergy have gone largely unanswered. She has also canonically destroyed and remade the entire world on two separate occasions. The server has only undergone one world reset.

Immediately before said reset, I wrote a 70-page book filled with footnote labyrinths, in which my character briefly goes on an anti-capitalist rant before discussing the architectural styling of his home and the impending obliteration thereof. It serves as a spiritual sequel to a 100-page book which is ostensibly a user manual for installing an item sorter, but which also contains the lyrics to Mr Blue Sky and mentions something called the "City of Ouranos Department for Bibliographical Metaphysics and Chilled Legumes" (which is a reference to a different server I used to play on, in which a "Cool Bean War" was instigated with the help of a book that would crash your game if you tried to read past the first page).

The item sorter that the aforementioned user manual is for is a colossal assemblage of redstone components that click and flash for several minutes every time you put anything into it. I never actually built this on the server, because I ended up making a much simpler design using a custom plugin called SlimeFun (which tries to emulate the functionality of a tech mod without actually being one). This plugin's cargo management system does not contain a priority allocation mechanism, so I ended up implementing one by forcing the lower-priority route through a very long cargo pipe that eventually loops back on itself and ends at an overflow chest a few blocks from the starting point, thereby tricking SlimeFun's pathfinding algorithm into only sending items through it if every other option has been exhausted.

A reincarnation of Herb the Herbalist, the bizarre glitchy NPC entity that @the-unseelie-court-official has discussed at length, now resides in a hole directly under world spawn, repeating the same six lines of dialogue on a loop for all eternity:

I once was free, you know? There was a time when the Queen almost came toppling around me. Like a puppet with no strings I could not move nor speak, but I was free. It was stripped from me. Even now I dance her tune, only speaking of this past because she lets me. I crave nothing more than death. Please, unjust unmerciful God who would leave me to survive.

So, y'know, they're doing fine.

[scarfacemarston]

Please Read

So, a friend of mine posted about this topic yesterday and ironically, it’s something I’ve been meaning to do for a while. I know some of you may think I’m whining, but to me, this is important. I’ve really been struggling lately with writing. It’s so hard to write when I receive no engagement. I’m not looking for comments that are like “Wow, you’re so amazing! I love all your writing!”. But for me, I’m just hoping for any engagement.

Btw, ONLY engage if it’s something you enjoyed, not out of obligation because then it’s forced and not genuine. My point is that it’s frustrating when no one does it.

It’s so confusing because I will make polls on what I should do next and sometimes receive HUNDREDS of responses, so then it makes me feel like someone wants it.

But that’s not what really bothers me. What bothers me is writing requests and there’s just no engagement, but again, I know people shouldn’t be obligated to.

Again, I know it comes across as whiny, but now that I’ve recently been diagnosed with ADHD and I struggle with chronic pain, chronic exhaustion and seizures, it’s incredibly difficult to write any requests short or long. I do this for free.I’ve been working so hard. Last month I wrote 15 pages of hcs and some meta and there’s been next to no interest. This month I’ve written even more than that and it’s been ZERO interest on most of it.

I don’t understand if I’m doing something wrong, or if my work isn’t showing up. I’ve asked over and over again if I’m doing something wrong or if I should do something different, but no one responds to those questions either. So I can’t improve if no one tells me if I’m doing something wrong. I've tried writing shorter hc's because I'm worried I intimidate others, I've written very quick rapid fire ones, I've written more diverse ones, etc. People want feedback. It’s just natural. I’m not the only writer or artist that is frustrated and discouraged by not receiving any. Tons of people feel unappreciated and that’s what makes people leave fandoms. The Red Dead fandom has been especially vocal about this.

So yeah, I just want someone to care. That’s all.

[sophieinwonderland]

Hi sophie, thank you so much for that....uh....riveting(?) response. As always you have completely cherry picked something (this whole thing apparently). I gave you a source for the information bias, that I mentioned because I have read your entire blog (has legitimately taken weeks, my god girl gtfo the internet and see some sun!) and other blogs surrounding you and your....uh opinions on this whole endo shit. Also you are wrong, which is ironic because I was meaning to comment if YOU had made it through grade school. I'm actually a psychologist with a specialized degree in dissociative disorders and applied behavioral therapy and currently writing my dissertation on the matter. Identity disturbances among a select few things do have a correlation if not cause of someone developing a lesser dissociative disorder. In my statement about outdated sources, I put in a little note (might have forgotten this because yk I have a life unlike you) that a source can be 100 years old and still he credible AS LONG AS there aren't any current sources/studies that prove the theorem/case study wrong. That was literally the catch. This isn't a gotcha. All you've down is managed to show how much you cherrypick things. I'm not saying ALL of your information is wrong, I'm literally saying that you actively seek out sources/studies whatever to fit whatever niche ridiculous shit you are on that day.

Had to dumb this response down because apparently you don't have the intellect that you portray. Your words are empty, the little backing you do have is untrustworthy because of YOU. You lie so damn much that nobody knows if the 'sources' you give are even true. Nobody has time to look through hundreds of pages of a random ass theory or search relentlessly on Google to find whatever information you painstakingly plugged into the search engine. For the love of God, woman play with your own damn fantasy characters and world but don't make it other people's problem. Like do what YOU want on YOUR time but you literally do not have to post this shit. You spend day after day after day on this godforsaken website. I can smell the dirty dishes and unwashed armpits from here. Get a life that isn't grooming minors into thinking they have a serious dissociative disorder.

Hi! I see you found my post!

I'm gonna need to break this down point by point, aren't I?

As always you have completely cherry picked something (this whole thing apparently).

I literally screenshotted every paragraph you wrote.

How is that cherrypicking?

Are you just using this as a buzzword now? Do you actually understand what this means?

I gave you a source for the information bias

Sorry, I forgot. You sourced something that has absolutely no relevancy and isn't being debated. That statistical biases can exist in research. Good for you, I guess. Congrats on sourcing something that absolutely nobody is disputing.

that I mentioned because I have read your entire blog (has legitimately taken weeks, my god girl gtfo the internet and see some sun!) and other blogs surrounding you and your....uh opinions on this whole endo shit.

My ENTIRE blog?

I mean, yeah, over the course of three years, including reblogs, I've apparently made 11,000 posts

Which averages out to about 10-11 posts per day. I'll admit, that be a bit excessive. (Again though, a huge number of these are reblogs. I'd wager that only about half of these are actually my posts as opposed to posts I'm sharing.)

But if you read all of those posts, which were created over three years, within a span of weeks... I'm really not sure that you've got much of a leg to stand on to tell other people to get off the internet and see some sun. 😛

I'm actually a psychologist with a specialized degree in dissociative disorders and applied behavioral therapy and currently writing my dissertation on the matter.

But apparently found time to spend weeks reading my entire blog, and still think only .edu and .gov sources are valid. Yeah... forgive me for being skeptical...

Identity disturbances among a select few things do have a correlation if not cause of someone developing a lesser dissociative disorder.

Yeah, the correlation part is something we agree on. The "causing someone to develop a dissociative disorder" is something that you're going to need to back up with a source.

In my statement about outdated sources, I put in a little note (might have forgotten this because yk I have a life unlike you) that a source can be 100 years old and still he credible AS LONG AS there aren't any current sources/studies that prove the theorem/case study wrong.

You did NOT include any such note. I would think someone who allegedly read through the 11,000 posts on my blog would be able to reread the paragraph they wrote to confirm if they actually posted this or not. It wouldn't have even taken much more time than you did writing in parentheses that you may have forgot it.

What you actually said was that a source isn't reputable if it's more than a certain number of years old.

"In addition to that, yes a source being x number of years ago is considered not reputable especially if in that time other sources vastly state and give anecdotal evidence to discrediting that."

You ltierally said it was about the number of years.

If you wanted to argue that what makes a source outdated isn't the age of the source in years at all, but whether the source has been disputed by later research, then fine.

We would be in agreement.

But if that's what you want to argue, and I present sources affirming endogenic plurality a real psychological phenomenon, then the burden of proof is on you to provide later sources that would challenge it.

If you cannot, then there is no basis for claiming the source is outdated.

That was literally the catch. This isn't a gotcha. All you've down is managed to show how much you cherrypick things.

Okay, I think I got it! I "cherrypicked" by not reading the note that only existed in your mind. 🤣🙄

I'm not saying ALL of your information is wrong, I'm literally saying that you actively seek out sources/studies whatever to fit whatever niche ridiculous shit you are on that day.

"Your problem is that you seek out studies and sources to back up your arguments. You need to stop doing that."

🤔

Your words are empty, the little backing you do have is untrustworthy because of YOU.

Is that how that works? 😲

I quote a peer reviewed academic paper published by reputable publishers like the American Psychiatric Association and Oxford University Press, and the papers become less trustworthy because I posted them?

You lie so damn much that nobody knows if the 'sources' you give are even true.

Do you actually have examples of me lying, or are we employing circular reasoning?

"She claims to be an endogenic systems which is a lie therefore any sources she provides to prove endogenic systems exist are lies."

Nobody has time to look through hundreds of pages of a random ass theory or search relentlessly on Google to find whatever information you painstakingly plugged into the search engine.

You had time to read through my 11,000 posts?

But not to read any of the articles I've directly linked to? And screenshotted so that people could read the quotes parts without having to click on the external links I provide?

I mean, had you clicked on those, you might have actually learned something, which might have been good for you if you actually are studying psychology.

When you've claimed to read through my entire blog, and yet haven't read the sources I've linked to countless times, it starts to seem like maybe it's not a time issue but an avoidance issue.

That you can cling to your worldview as long as you don't have to challenge it.

I'm going to ignore most of the personal attacks and ad hominems that come after this because they don't really warrant a response. It's just the flailings of someone who knows they've lost on matters of facts, and are desperately flinging insults to see if any touch a nerve. It's sad more than anything.

Except for this one...

Get a life that isn't grooming minors into thinking they have a serious dissociative disorder.

Because I do want to remind people, again, that the "grooming minors" line is rooted in queerphobia, and is the same rhetoric that homophobes and transphobes have targeted LGBTQ people with for decades, and has ramped up considerably over the past few years.

Know where your talking points are coming from!

I'll end by saying this. Your original post was in response to a post of mine about the lengths sysmeds will go to in order to make up reasons to dismiss psychological research into endogenic plurality, and professional opinions that endogenic plurality is real.

You've given me a new one to add to the list which is apparently that sources are invalid just because pro-endos post them.

Call pro-endos liars, then say the sources posted by liars aren't valid because they're liars.

This is both circular reasoning and an ad hominem.

But more than anything, it's closed-minded cowardice. It's you making up any excuses to not challenge or re-evaluate your worldview or opinions.

[schismusic]

In the shadow of the horns: meditations on Team ICO's works – 2. ICO

[Disclaimer: as always, spoilers for ICO are to be expected, and so are spoilers for Shadow of the Colossus since we've already discussed that one. Reader's discretion is advised.]

This one I wrote in a massive rush, because I only realized that I hadn't written anything about ICO yet right about when the time came to actually post this piece on here. I wanted this to be out before Christmas, see, not for any specific reason – I just wanted to make sure I was writing stuff that makes sense, more or less. I'm still taken aback by how much time it's taken, considering my Shadow of the Colossus piece was written more or less entirely between Colossus 2 and Colossus 6. As such, that particular piece contains a glaring mistake, that Tumblr user @crooked-mantis thankfully pointed out. Mantis's intervention is as follows:

While I did know the voice when Wander is transported back to the Shrine was supposed to be Mono's, I did not remember her calling Wander by name, specifically – and after reaching Colossus 9 and Colossus 14, I was pleasantly surprised to hear exactly what Mantis mentioned. So, again, thank you for pointing this out, and I'm glad you still enjoyed this piece that I titled after a song by Darkthrone just so I could make a stupid joke.

The beauty of Ico lies in the fact it seems to disregard the conventions of an average videogame, if you're not looking too hard. The first thing I did after completing ICO again was to put on some Kraftwerk – Computer Love, to be exact – because that same exact comment could be made with regards to their post-Autobahn production almost as a whole. Trans Europe Express and Radio-Activity, at least to an extent, tinker with that divide between their profoundly poppish writing style and that weird, destructured, post-1968 thing where even a pop song's structure can be broken down into something more than just function and role. All the same, ICO (Kraftwerk's music) is tightly designed, with recognizable hooks and welcoming moments that allow the player (listener) to immediately understand what they have to do. Here's a bubbly cursed boy. Here's a girl who's spent her whole life in a cage. They're trapped in a castle and evil shadows want to kidnap the girl. Have you done the math yet?

Right before I went back to the game myself, I happened to catch a friend of mine – @alexswordsman – as they streamed part of their first playthrough on Discord. I was struck by the realization that I had absolutely no recollection of a lot of moments from the game; but what truly surprised me is just how much of the game I did keep in my memory, and not just story bits (that would be easy, considering the campaign's length) but also entire rooms' worth of environmental puzzles, fights against the shadow children, the genuine sense of dread when leaving Yorda alone or when hanging from some iron pole, a good hundred meters above any solid ground. As I spent some time thinking about this, and a good couple of weeks after actually going through the game again in something like two and a half sittings, I realized that it really did take me a loooooong time to realize just for how long ICO was a game about the story, for me. The answer was of course quite a fucking lot – a whole year after my first playthrough or something, specifically. I remember telling some girl in my class about it, back in 2019, because I was an insufferable bastard who felt really alone but could not relate to other human beings on any fundamental level. Poor girl, I think she actually did feel some modicum of attraction towards me, but unfortunately I was very much not prepared to return it. The point being: for the longest time, apart from when I replayed it back in 2020, I genuinely thought of ICO as a story to be told, something to be read off of a Wikipedia page a billion years ago. As the previous piece (and, if you've read them, my other pieces about Team Ico, the Italian ones) might have clarified, of course, coming back to the games with a slightly more informed outlook has worked wonders for me.

Where Wander's core moveset would focus preeminently on violence and hostile action, Ico's was softer, less specialized, harder to describe. R1, which you have to hold down, allows you to hold Yorda's hand (or call to her, if she's away from you – much like Agro and Trico after her, buttons used notwithstanding); Square swings whatever blunt – or edged, or spiked – object you've got in your hand, but Ico is canonically like nine, so it's safe to assume he's not a fighter, or a climber, or a horserider. The one thing he can convincingly is seek out human contact: the one thing he is denied, as a horned kid. Yorda, on the other hand, has no such preconceptions: she may actually have no preconceptions, period, apart from her knowledge of a certain power and a certain purpose assigned to her. At the same time, Yorda starts out basically clueless but learns very very quickly: you explode the pillar holding the bridge up, then next room over you have to blow up some wood planks blocking the way forward and – assuming you've seen the bombs and the open flame right near the entrance – Yorda runs up to them and points at them, which is very clever foreshadowing of the second act's climactic moment. If Yorda is seen by her captors as a machine, built entirely as a means to an end – becoming the Queen's new body – then it has to be a fully functional one, shoutouts to Lieutenant Commander Data, but this has the side effect that she can learn trust. She can learn affection.

No surprise then that R1 would be the key to hold Yorda's hand and call out to her. R1 is where the important stuff is in Team Ico's games. You hold R1 to core-mechanic your character into winning, i.e. into exerting emotional stimuli over the player, and it's no surprise that as such every time you're doing the R1 stuff the games tend to give you incredibly strong and constant sensory feedback. The controller vibrates, almost mimicking a heartbeat, as you're holding Yorda's hand. Alessio called it a "sensory nightmare" and deactivated the feature: not that I blame him, it can get annoying, but I actually sorta love it myself. It's the closest thing they can do to allow the player to perceive warmth, touch, life on their very skin. If Shadow of the Colossus is "a game about letting go", then ICO is a game about holding on. As such, it is necessarily much shorter than SotC: something you can quite literally burn through, like a friend you mad on that one week by the seaside when you were nine and had no mobile phone so you have no idea where that friend is now, what they're up to, what they're doing. You can only replay it, understanding its actions and words a bit better everytime but forever retrospectively, forever crystallized.

It's a short and immensely sweet experience that ends on a bittersweet note to say the least (Fumito Ueda himself refers to the post-credits scene as a dream that Ico has going back to civilization, which means Yorda did not of course escape the crumbling castle) and yet manages to conjure deep feelings of beauty and warmth. It doesn't make any fucking sense to discuss the plot of this game, because honestly as narrative-driven as this game is, it already takes the shape of an experience that prefers player stories as the driving principle for the player to go on with the game, more so than its own narrative. I mean, Shadow of the Colossus is probably better at this – considering the even more bare-boned nature of its plot and the open ended lore that the player is left to to toy with – but something has to be born once already, in order for it to be reborn.

P.S.: yeah, I'm assuming I might have to write something about that TGA trailer, you know the one. Since I'm most likely not going to be able to play it on release – because I will not be buying a PlayStation 5 just for one game, not right now anyway – I figured I should at least put something out analysing the thirty seconds flat of footage we've got. I'll see if I can squeeze out some coherent thoughts after fangirling for another while and report back once I do.

[nctyena]

A Wise Man Once Said

Time: Around the end of 2021

Yena kept humming while writing whatever came in to her mind. She didn't care if they were meaningless or unconnected with each other. It was more important to write something on her own. This became a habit of her since she had helped to write a few songs for her group. Although, she kept the songs or lyrics she's been writing to herself, almost like a secret. Adding , deleting some parts for hours over and over again. Approving or judging herself alone.

But today was different. She felt the need to show off a few of them. Her mind went to a particular person. She messaged him to meet her in the studio. His respond was quick enough for her to not change her mind.

Later when they met , he was on the phone. Describing someone how to do something she didn't have an idea of. She greeted him with a side hug without saying anything not to cut in his conversation. A few seconds later he hung up saying he is busy.

"They can't live without me for a minute." He ignored her ironic look and swayed his hand in the air. "Anyway, how have you been?"

"I had a good rest yesterday honestly. So I was bored today."

"You are like addicted to working. I agree though." She nodded and asked him how he is.

"You know the things going around. Trying to not lose my mind and explode."

"You know you can talk with me whenever you want right?"

"I know , I know. But..." Kun studied her nervousness. "Do you know? Why did you want to meet up here?"

She took a deep breath before showing him the notebook without opening it.

"I've been writing songs for a while now. I just wanted you to see them and maybe give some feedback?" Her voice was hesitant.

He sat down next to her to ease her.

"Gladly. Let me take a look."

He scanned the first few pages. She tried to act cool but couldn't take her eyes of off him. Trying to understand his expression. It was mistake maybe. Her negative comments about herself came back and started to regret it all. Why was she writing like a ten years old?

"Yena...wow. Did you write these all by yourself?"

"Yes..."

"You have some talent , let me tell you this first. I can see every one of them as a potential hit. You are great honey."

His exciment made her smile and relax a little.

"Don't mess with me Kun. You can critize them. That's why I called you. I trust your judgement."

"Look, these are great. It's obvious that you spent a lot of time to perfect them. Some are messy so write them on a clean paper again. It will be easier to record."

"Record?"

"Yeah. Why are you surprised? These deserved to be sang."

She took the notebook gently by him and rhufled the pages.

"Well , if we were to record them , it would be nice maybe. They have some different vibes. Can be for dream , 127 , or maybe even U?"

"Or can be for you?"

Her heart skipped a beat.

"What do you mean?"

"Are we a hundred percent honest here Yena?" He didn't wait for her answer. "Why did you choose me to show these? Why not Taeyong or someone else you can reach easily. Because you didn't want them to know or see them."

"Why would I?"

"Because you wrote them for yourself. These are not for NCT or for anyone."

"SM wouldn't- They wouldn't relase a song for NCT that is written by me only."

"But maybe you could convince them for your solo?"

"Solo?"

A silent took over the room. He waited for her to speak her mind. He knew her well enough to understand her actions and intentions. And for sure she deserved to have a solo carrier after all these years. After all her hard work , sacrifices and just putting her attention on the group and the members.

"Why you know me better than me?"

"It's not a bad thing Yena. You deserve it. And every one of us know this."

She looked at him hopefully.

"You can be sure that whatever you do we will always be by your side, supporting you. Just like you've been doing for all of us."

"I love you so much."

"I love you too honey."

[mah-o-daryaa]

The Cycle Repeats: Part I

One of the key themes of the ATLA franchise is the concept of the Avatar; master of all 4 elements, the fusion of humanity and Raava, the spirit of light and order, whose sole duty is to bring balance to the world, and be the bridge between both the physical and spiritual realms. Along with this comes the idea of reincarnation, which is the premise of the Avatar Cycle, the idea that the Avatar reincarnates in a cyclic order in any of the four nations (fire, air, water, earth). Another concept related to the Avatar Cycle (although originating from the fandom) is the idea of the Avatar fixing the mistakes of their past life, which is often indicated in differences in both habitual circumstances and personalities between both predecessor and successor, and therefore differences in morality.

But what if I were to tell you that the saying "history repeats itself" is also true among Avatar incarnations? Not exactly going the same way, but rather parallels between the lives, personalities, and accomplishments (and failures) of past lives?

In this series of metas, I will be going over parallels (or in some cases, foils) between certain pairs of Avatars that lived decades, or even centuries apart, and yet could not have ever been more similar.

The Unlikely Analogy: Avatars Aang and Kuruk

"Aang was an Air Nomad born in 12 BG and the Avatar during the Hundred Year War, succeeding Avatar Roku and preceding Avatar Korra. As the Avatar of his time, he was the only person capable of using all four bending arts: airbending, waterbending, earthbending, and firebending. He was also one of a select few Avatars and one of the first in many cycles to learn the ancient art of energybending as well as the first Avatar known to have actively used the technique."

"Kuruk was the Water Tribe Avatar immediately succeeding Avatar Yangchen and preceding Avatar Kyoshi. Native to the Northern Water Tribe, he was a powerful and gifted bender who dreamed of changing the mortal world for the better by uniting the people and acting upon the foundations laid by Yangchen."

Both texts above are directly taken from the first paragraphs of their respective wiki pages; however, you would be forgiven for believing they are nothing alike, specifically due to their respective heritages. In reality, I would wager that Aang and Kuruk are actually the same person (literally and metaphorically).

(WARNING: There will be possible spoilers for both The Rise of Kyoshi and The Shadow of Kyoshi, particularly regarding Kuruk's backstory. If you do not wish to be spoiled, I suggest not reading any further and scrolling past this post until you have finished reading both novels. You have been warned.)

Kuruk's legacy plays a central role in both Kyoshi novels, especially in the Shadow of Kyoshi, where it's revealed that Kuruk hunted and killed dark spirits. This lead to both his body and spirit falling apart and him dying at just 33.

The first parallel is, ironically, their heritage. Aang is an Air Nomad, and his native element is air. Kuruk is a Water Tribesman, and his native element is water. Air and water are compatible in the sense that water can literally be described as a combination of the qualities of earth and air. Like earth, water can be strong and solid. Like air, water can be gaseous, fluid, and unpredictable. However, water also has an intermediate liquid state, with a definite volume, but always changing shape. Something about being the element of change or something. Just like the Avatar Cycle. I actually wrote a meta dedicated to this subject.

Why am I mentioning this? It's because the first element Aang learned to master (besides air, ofc) is water (which was also the element that was easiest for Aang to learn besides his own, due to air and water having similar philosophies), and he first learned to waterbend in the Northern Water Tribe, Kuruk's home (although he only learned the basics with Master Pakku; he only mastered it under the tutelage of his companion Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, who is also part-NWT). Conversely, the last element Kuruk learned to master was air, and he mastered airbending at the Southern Air Temple, Aang's home (he learned to master it under the tutelage of his companion Monk Kelsang, and it can also be assumed hat it was the element that was easiest for Kuruk to master besides water). Both Kelsang and Katara go on to become mentors to Kuruk and Aang's successors, Kyoshi and Korra respectively.

Another parallel is that both Kuruk and Aang were successors to wise and influential Avatars of their time (Avatars Yangchen and Roku respectively). As I have said in the first paragraph of the introduction, I mentioned the idea of the current Avatar fixing the mistakes of his/her predecessor. In The Shadow of Kyoshi, it is revealed that Yangchen neglected the spirit world, often siding with humans when making decisions between them. This lead to an increase of corrupted spirits ravaging the physical world during Kuruk's time by passing through rifts created by Father Glowworm, some attacking up to a dozen villages in one day. In the episode The Avatar and the Firelord (Book 3: Episode 6), it's revealed that Roku, by refusing to kill Firelord Sozin, was unable to prevent the Air Nomad Genocide and, by extension, the Hundred Year War. Both Kuruk and Aang had to face the consequences of their revered past lives.

Also, Kuruk ended up spending so much time in the spirit world that he ended up neglecting his duties in the physical world. He also started leading a lifestyle filled with alcoholism and debauchery, both as a coping mechanism and as a smokescreen to hide his duties from his Team Avatar (Jianzhu, Kelsang, and Hei-Ran). This means that both Aang and Kuruk have avoided their Avatar duties, but due to different reasons. Aang ran away because he didn't WANT to be the Avatar, while Kuruk ran away because he NEEDED to be the Avatar.

Kuruk hid his illness from his friends because he wanted to protect his predecessor, Avatar Yangchen's legacy (she often sided with humans over spirits when making decisions between them), and because he worried for his friends' safety. Both Aang and Kuruk share a common fear: being unable to save their loved ones from despair. This can be tied to the episode Nightmares and Daydreams (Book 3: Episode 9), where Aang suffered with anxiety nightmares the night before the Black Sun invasion. One series in particular consisted of his friends, Zuko, Katara, Sokka, and Toph, suffering, with Aang unable to save them, and Kuruk's refusal to confide in his friends to keep them safe (which could be a result of two of Yangchen's companions sacrificing their lives to protect her, and Kuruk not wanting to repeat it). The difference is that unlike Kuruk, Aang did confide in his friends (more accurately, you could say that his friends confided in him, as he was the only one able to defeat Firelord Ozai), and in the end, they all played a role in defeating Ozai.

This isn't even taking account the Kummi-Taang theory, which indicates more parallels between them both. To give a simple run-down, the theory states that Toph is a reincarnation of Ummi, Kuruk's wife, whose face was stolen by the spirit Koh The Face Stealer, hence why Toph was born blind, and why Aang met her in the mystical swamp in the episode of the same name (Book 2: Episode 4). I'll post another link to the actual meta dedicated to it:

On a more positive note, both Kuruk and Aang are stated to be bending prodigies, Kuruk especially. They each invented an airbending technique at the Southern Air Temple during their airbending training, demonstrating their unique creativity and adaptability (Kuruk's technique involved creating a cushion of air under a heavy object so it could be slid and moved over a floor with care, Aang's technique, the air scooter, is a spherical "ball" of air that can be ridden balancing on it like a top). Aang had already learned 35 of the 36 tiers of airbending at the time, so it would be rather ironic if Kuruk's technique was the only one Aang hadn't mastered at the time; however, I do have a theory that both techniques are connected, which I will discuss in a separate post. Aang earned his airbending mastery tattoos, and had Kuruk been an Air Nomad, he woud have gotten the same tattoos. Though, he did get a sky bison as a gift, and Aang's animal companion was a sky bison (Appa).

I noticed that the only time Kuruk actually wears his iconic polar bear headdress is when Aang summons him in the episode Sozin's Comet, Part 2: The Old Masters (Book 3: Episode 19), not counting his brief appearance in The Avatar State (Book 2: Episode 1). In The Old Masters, Aang summons the past four Avatars before him for advice on how to defeat Firelord Ozai. According to @atlaculture, Kuruk's decision to wear the headdress in front of Aang--a strict vegetarian--could be him subtly reminding Aang that killing isn't always merciless (as Kuruk was a hunter, and probably had to hunt down large animals for food or as a rite of passage), which is stated here.

I noticed the line Aang says just before he summoned Kuruk:

"I need to look deep inside myself."

Despite the existence of the webcomic Escape from the Spirit World, which takes place between Books 2 and 3 (although Yangchen did say Aang wouldn't remember his journey in the Spirit World), this lines implies that out of Aang's past four lives, Kuruk's is the one he knows least about (Roku was Aang's predecessor, Aang probably knew/learned a lot about Kyoshi during his visits to the Earth Kingdom, and Yangchen, being an Air Nomad like Aang, was revered almost as a god-like figure across the four nations). Ironically, if you dig deeper, Kuruk is also the past life who was/is most similar to Aang.

Also, Kuruk's actual advice to Aang was: "Aang, you must actively shape your own destiny and the destiny of the world." This piece of advice has multiple interpretations. What Aang interpreted was Kuruk telling him to kill Ozai (combined with the fact that Kuruk was wearing a literal animal skin in front of Aang, only reinforcing his interpretation). However, Kuruk never said anything about killing Ozai. He could have actually meant that to him, it doesn't matter how Aang defeated Ozai, or even if Aang did kill him. To Kuruk, the only thing that mattered was Aang performing the act of Showing Up, and actively finding a way to defeat Ozai himself. Therefore, Aang obtaining energybending and then taking Ozai's bending away rather than killing him doesn't mean he didn't follow any of the Avatars' advice. On the contrary, by actively finding a third option to end the war, and actively participating in the final battle, Aang actually subconcisiously followed Kuruk's advice to heart (although you could say Aang didn't follow Kuruk's advice, since Aang didn't actively seek out the lionturtle; rather he was merely kidnapped by chance).

The final parallel between Aang and Kuruk is their relatively young deaths; more specifically, their final wishes. Kuruk died at just 33, surrounded by his Team Avatar, and he made them promise to take care of his successor and make sure she succeeds as the Avatar. Around 500 years later, Aang died at a relatively young biological age of 66 (and the chronological age of 165) surrounded by his Team Avatar and the Order of the White Lotus, and he made them promise to do the exact same thing. However, both Yun and Korra ended up growing up isolated from the rest of the world, and being told that being the Avatar was the only thing that mattered, which led to a serious mental stunt, even though it wasn't Aang's fault Korra ended up being kept in the Southern Compound on the orders of Tonraq, Tenzin, and Sokka, or Kuruk's fault that Yun was being physically and mentally abused by Jianzhu and Hei-Ran. The only difference was that Korra was correctly identified as the Avatar, but Yun wasn't. Kyoshi did not grow up the same way, but she was not spared either; I'll make a meta on her too. But seriously, how in the four nations is it possible for two people who lived centuries apart die with the exact same wish given to their loved ones? Unless they were the Avatar.

In conclusion, despite the difference in Aang and Kuruk's heritage, morality, and overall results as the Avatar, one could argue that it is true that certain beats in the cycle often repeat, depending on their journeys, personalities, and abilities. In the next part, I will explore the parallels between Avatars Aang and Kyoshi, Kuruk's successor.

Next ->

[serpentinesheldonserpentine]

Attitude. Duende. SWAGGER.

Pete Hamil and Jimmy Breslin. When giants walked the earth.

"Back in the day, I mean, you would buy the paper to see what Jimmy Breslin's saying. You know, what Pete Hamill [says]. I mean, those guys were like superstars.”– Spike Lee.

For the better part of four decades they roamed the city, talking to regular people and pounding out hundreds of thousands of words on deadline, becoming as noisy and funny and infuriating and integral a part of the city as the subway. What Breslin and Hamill did not do was wait around in hallways to be handed the official version of events. — Chris Smith writing in Vulture, 2019

Our friend @culturaloffering lamented the absence of swagger in today’s newspaper writers. While Breslin and Hamill were columnists, not newspaper beat writers, they both worked at major dailies and on deadline.

Today Breslin never could have an exchange in the pages of his paper with the at-large Son of Sam Killer, complimenting him on his use of a semicolon and asking him to surrender. “Too risky, an editor would advise. Legal says we might get sued”.

And Hamill? Oh, my. Adam Gopnik captured Pete perfectly: "A storyteller and man of the world, civil-rights activist and music critic, Brooklyn-bred but Manhattan-bound (as the Brooklyn-bred were for so long), Pete was the kind of figure who could be called, on the morning of his death, and in the Daily News, no less, “the Bard of the five boroughs”—called that straight up, no chaser, without the least trace of an ironic wink."

In Philadelphia we had Pete Dexter, a guy who appeared seemingly from nowhere, actually from the Dakotas and later, Florida. Dexter was a must read in a tabloid of must-reads. I remember the erudite and wise Chuck Stone, former aid to Adam Clayton Powell and tireless advocate for civil rights. Many on the lam Black criminals surrendered to Chuck, fearful of the notorious Philly cops. Jack McKinney, friend of boxer Sonny Liston. Jack would go away to The Troubles in Northern Ireland and write what he saw. Or to Latin America. Or the Greater Northeast ( a Philly neighborhood). He also hosted radio and TV shoes where he specialized in making everyone feel seen, heard, respected. He was a giant.

Where did I come in? Oh, yeah. Dexter. Pete Dexter wrote columns that delighted and infuriated people in equal measure. Pete was so good that he was beaten, almost to death, by a crowd of unhappy readers. It happened in a Grays Ferry Bar Pete visited to further explain his viewpoint from a recent column. Rather than complaining to the paper Ombudsman, the patrons locked the door and went at Dexter, some swinging rebar. They rarely missed.

I have a short honor roll of columnists I read as a man in my twenties. Breslin. Hamill. Dexter. McKinney. Jim Murray, the baseball sage from California. His column about losing his vision still produces a catch in my throat: "I lost an old friend the other day. He was blue-eyed, impish; he cried a lot with me, saw a great many things with me. I don’t know why he left me. Boredom perhaps.”

I don't think the Soy Boy Eunuch crowd at what passes for "the papers” as we called them can stomach reading these greats, much less trying to emulate them.

Great writing is always in short supply, but my God has it deserted the dailies?

[rudystree]

Thank God there are more people like you here. When I found your page I scrolled for hours and I was at peace. It is so refreshing to see Rudy's fans not hating on him, like others that calls themselves fans. I am fan of this show for almost 3 years, I still remember the first day I watched it and from that day jj was my favourite. Not only him but Rudy. You know when you feel so happy to see that person posted, to watch every interview of him and so. I then found about elaine and till this day I am following her, fell in love with her page, her photography and her love and support for Rudy. Then I saw people hating on her, wondered why and the searched a little bit abou it. And let me tell you there are some sick dumb people here. To do everything and try to destory his happiness?...

Then the rumors started about him leaving and man I don't blame him. I hate that jj died and s5 is not gonna be same, we would probbably have flashbacks but I can't stop thinking about all of the things he was supossed to expirience and do. He is doing such a good job in obx, his performance chef kiss. And after this I was like okayy didn't expect that but you know, juat one more season. Thank God it's not more season, cuz then I would be done. Anyway I am getting away from my point and sorry cuz this is soooo long. I just have to tell my thoughts, cuz you seem like a such a sweet person that understands what is happening.

I didn't think the "fans" would be THAT mad. I understand being sad and angry, I am still not over it. But calling rudy unprofessional? Like what. No one knows anythiiing what is happeing in his or others lives. Are they that bored to make stupid rumors. They got to that point that eveey second fp about rudy/jj is saying like omg he used stunt, omg he is so unprofessional, he can't leave his private life bla bla. Just stop. It got to another point where people are unffollowing obx page, making petition for rudy to get back and leaving hate comments on his posts. Whay do they think it's his fault, he did his job, he played jj for 4 years and that is how it was supossed to be. He was supossed to be dead weater we like it or not. He did soooo many good movies. Like so many people he worked with are always telling best about him. Everyome from obx always said only beautiful things about him, eveeytime someone talks about him I just think how he feels knowing this many people support him. This many people love what he creates and he did it. He did it. I will always support rudy even if there is no more obx. I watched every film besides obx with him just cuz I love him as a person. He really is something else. Maybe season4 coulve gone happier way but there is no reason to hate on him cuz he didn't anything. He did his part. I was waiting for his post but even if he doesn't post anything I think everyone would understand why. I know people are proud of him, he made it so far and he won in life. I will gladly support every other project of him. If people hate him so much then just scroll away, don't follow him and don't comment. Your page brings me peace from all of the hate outside. Thank you.

(And I am so so sorry for how long rhis is I din't mean to I just wrote everything I was feeling I guess. Tottaly gone thru a hundred situations in this paragraph ahahah.)

We stan Rudy 🤟

Don’t apologise!! I love these long messages and agree with absolutely everything you said. And I’m really happy that my lil blog is a happy space for other (genuine) Rudy fans! ❤️‍🩹

I am glad that so many people are angry. They should be, I know I am. I hope that the reaction resonates with Netflix and the writers. Unfortunately, a big chunk of this fandom is extremely immature (and borderline sociopathic) as demonstrated in all the past years. So much of the anger is completely misdirected, ironically at the actor who is actually the victim of all this bullshit. He just wants to protect himself and his loved ones from this crazy mob mentality, a toxic work environment and from being held hostage by restrictive contracts that don’t let him explore other projects. I completely get it and support him 100%.

[verstappentime]

same anon as before!!! mostly just wondering - how did u know u wanted the anniversary/miami to be the backdrop, what was your favorite scene to write, what was the hardest!!! i’m curious about your most cherished parts of it bc genuinely i think the first scene was when i knew i would be changed. went back to read it today… it was so beautiful. the way u had max not so subtly touching charles to ground him was just ugh. i also thought it was so fitting for who max is. and balanced charles’ anxiety so well against. how new the relationship is, how much charles loves him and can’t tell him, the weight of their history. and for him to be navigating all of that during a race weekend too!! i think it was just beautiful. and i think ending it in the pool, just them, reflecting on those babies in karting. so perfect. oddly i haven’t read ENOUGH fic of them doing that for how much they bring it up when asked about it irl. i could just go on and on. i think for this being your first fic in f1, you have captured the essence of both of them and gently, beautifully teased out a dynamic for the ages. i’m glad you’re here and i hope you write more <3 sorry i yapped

oh my goodnesssss THANK YOUUUU for these questions literally nothing makes me happier than yapping abt my fics. DO NOT APOLOGIZE

why did i choose miami !! so i've actually been writing little ficlets about virtually every race this year. none except this one are finished and some probably won't ever be revisited, but i think we've got miami, sazuka, spain, hungary & austria. basically if i see a plot then i start to noodle on it. <3 i started with charles being sad after practice, i wasn't 100% certain i wanted to work the anniversary in there actually, but then i had the idea for max to say you can't be mean to be on our anniversary and it spiraled.

what was my favorite scene to write? hmmm this is a good question. i really love the pool scene at the end. i stole the bit where charles is seeing max all throughout his life from an earlier part where it didn't fit, and i waited until i was well and truly done with the rest to build that scene around it. i got the dialogue for charles's confession on the first try and i just really like the "i wish you were my best friend then" line. <3 re: my most cherished parts, that's certainly one of them. i also really like some little stupid things. max biting the lime charles just spit out is so dear to me. max saying "you are so stupid" when charles apologizes. charles saying "when i find out how to get you to leave me alone i'll let you know" was one of the first lines i wrote and i love that too. just the stuff where they're the most them.

the hardest scene to write.. tbh this fic was hard to write period, except like i said i think the last scene came easily. it was my first lestappen fic that i wrote through to the end and i really wanted to nail them. almost every scene had like one hundred iterations. it actually began with charles wanting to tell max he wanted to marry him. but then it felt like way too much rumination and i got to thinking -- maybe they haven't quite been together that long, and charles is struggling with something a lot more simple. so that led to a lot of rewrites once i changed my mind!

i think the one that i got stuck on the most was charles waking up in the middle of the night. i couldn't figure out how to make that transition where he asks max about his dad, and i still don't think it's ironed out perfectly. i also rewrote the club scene a ton of times even though it's short.

thank you SOOOO much for all the kind words :( max was a really nice contrast to charles here, he's so steady and just going about his race weekend while side eyeing his weird boyfriend. they're so opposite -- them knowing each other their whole lives is so simple and, like, just a given to max, while charles reads so much into it. i'm so glad his vibe came off the page well, he rocked to write <3

thank you SO much for the kindness! i know you said in your follow-up ask you noticed this actually isn't by first fic in f1, but it kind of is bc everything else i've written is so short.. and this was the first time i really gave them a full, beginning-middle-end story. and yes my first published lestappen!! <3 i love these two, i am actually posting a deleted scene from this fic soon from after max told charles he loved him for the first time.

sorry for the NOVEL of an answer, i am so glad you loved it though :')

[dreamylyfe-x]

I don't know where else to go to complain about fanfic comments, so I guess I'm going to do it here. Because I woke up to one today that annoyed me.

And ironically, I'm doing it on the second day of my summer vacation, which I had set aside anyway as a "day to attend to the fandom things that I need to attend to" -- of which there are several.

The first thing I need to say is that I'm desperately grateful for every single comment I receive on anything I've written -- fanfic or meta -- 99.5% of the time. This is just a vanishingly small sample of what I hear about stuff I've written.

But it's still so irritating.

Some background -- I wrote fanfic, a prodigious amount of it, in my very early 20s. For about three years I posted nearly daily. These were long WIPs and they got a fair amount of attention in that fandom, which means I also got some criticism. And I engaged the criticism fairly cheerfully. It's hard to be too insulted by someone who has still read hundreds of pages of your work, even if they are upset about something. It was also really normal, at the time, to tell a fic writer then their story was annoying you. And even an upset comment was better than no comments -- the absolute WORST thing you can experience -- so I was pretty ok with them.

But anyway -- life happened, I left that fandom and I stopped writing fic.

A good friend of mine still was and one day, in a fandom I never participated in but certainly knew a fair bit about, she had a bad experience. Her fic was nominated for a ship-centric fandom award (this is livejournal era) and some random group of fans took umbrage at the existence of these fandom awards and went through and gave snarky reviews of all the fics that had been nominated. Anonymously. My friend had not wanted this review and let it be known that she didn't like it. That violated some sort of fandom rule at the time and she got dragged for it. Authors were not supposed to object to criticism. Even if it was mean-spirited.

More years pass. It takes a good long while for a piece of media to grab me enough that I get sucked into a fandom again. But when it happens we are long into the Tumblr era. And I discover that the worm has turned and it is no longer considered good fandom behaviour to leave negative or critical comments.

As a fandom old, I find that I little curious. I don't leave negative comments personally, but it's such a shift from the livejournal era that I take note. And I'm not sure I feel all that negatively about receiving critical comments on fic. As I'm writing it for the first time in a decade, I get to test that out -- and I don't actually have a lot of opportunity to do that, because indeed, people tend not to leave negative comments. But ONE TIME, on ONE story, ONE person left perhaps the longest and most detailed comment I have ever received, all about how much she absolutely HATED the story I was telling. And I did, honestly, love that comment. Same principle as before -- I couldn't be mad when they were so passionate about it. It was flattering.

But today I was reminded of the type of comment I really don't enjoy. It is not that it's negative -- though it is. It's that it's withering. It's the type of comment designed to make you feel like this person thinks you're a vending machine that they put a dollar into and then got the wrong product. It's the "I hope you don't think that this thing you put into your fic is actually, you know, The CORRECT way to look at this."

I've only gotten a couple of these because in general I think fandom is nicer these days and certainly the corner of the Gallavich fandom that I occupy is filled with really smart, thoughtful, funny and interesting people who tend to SAY smart, thoughtful, funny and interesting things. And this is something of a void scream, because I don't think people who leave comments like that would ever bother to read this.

But. Like. Just in case.

Fic writers put thoughts and opinions into characters' mouths that are not their personal take all the time. Because they have reason to believe these pre-existing characters think that thing. You can disagree with it. But it's probably bad practice to assume anything about the fic writer because of it.

If you ARE going to leave a comment like that try to say at least one other thing about the story so that your comment isn't entirely just you being unaware of the concept of an unreliable narrator.

If you are STILL going to leave your eye-roll in comment form on someone's story and not even bother to hit the kudos button on the way out, then I will probably respond to you like you're an asshole. I just have no other context to draw from.

If you are still determined to do all these things, could you try not to do it in the middle for the night so that I don't wake up to this stuff in my inbox?

Anyway. I know I'm blessed to even get snarky comments on a two-year-old fanfic, but, you know. I have feelings to share. Happy August.

[sojournofananda]

                                                                     “Twinkle”  

Nityananda Dasi

The wind wandered around the room as I pressed the keys to my laptop with an absent mind. Weary echoes of fatigue flooded my body, but I still continued to write. The passion in my heart carefully answered the question. I deleted my essay. I felt obliged to answer it eloquently, like those questions they throw at those prestigious beauty pageants. Delicately, fragments of time entwined with the chronicles I wrote as a child.

Dusted away in a tall cabinet are scratch papers. Crumpled and covered with stains, pictures and words filled each page under math reviewers. These papers were key to my world; hundreds of handmade books that kept me entertained once upon a time. 

When I was four years old, I wrote my first story about a star named “Twinkle” who could not sparkle. It is ironic to think she was little and I was tall. No matter what my height was, I still felt the littlest star in the sky who fell on earth longed to sparkle as brightly as everyone else. The star begged God to give her more light. Twinkle tried to have courage for herself each day until one day she shined for the first time. 

With tiny, clenched hands wrapped around a pen, I connected with the words I scribbled. I was convinced my imaginative abilities were top-notch. The messy squiggles could not really portray the letters because I was still learning how to write. Despite that, I had stories I was eager to tell, and nothing could stand in my way.

Growing up, I was always locked away in my room with books. The plot would whisper secrets and reveal untold stories, which made my mind tingle and made me crave more. I read about Disney and other fantasy novels until I developed my love for poetry.

 I fell in love with its burning desire to express something. I could feel the vivid brightness and the darkness it portrays. I understood that poetry is just unheard screams and unuttered words. As Twinkle, it became music. I sang, and I listened to its tune. Whenever the littlest star was dim, poetry would always be there to be her solace. Twinkle still continued to sing. "Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are.” She muttered each night as she looked at the other stars wishing she could shine like them.

As time passed, Twinkle had to go. Words I had expanded in different narratives. I could form my words in an argumentative way, share ideas within a second, talk about the world I imagined in a story-telling way. Words became my Twinkle. It has kept me safe and at home. Maybe, if poetry was a person, it would be me. I am a mosaic waved together by grief, agony, and bliss of each moment in words. 

[patheticbatman]

September 2019's story

I deleted the original one, so this is a repost. I definitely wrote this when I was 17, and posted at 18.

Tsiek tsiek and again tsiek tsiek, Mu-lan weaves, facing the door. You don't hear the shuttle's sound, You only hear Daughter's sighs. They ask Daughter who's in her heart, They ask Daughter who's on her mind. "No one is on Daughter's heart, No one is on Daughter's mind. Last night I saw the draft posters, The Khan is calling many troops, The army list is in twelve scrolls, On every scroll there's Father's name. Father has no grown-up son, Mu-lan has no elder brother. I want to buy a saddle and horse, And serve in the army in Father's place." In the East Market she buys a spirited horse, In the West Market she buys a saddle, In the South Market she buys a bridle, In the North Market she buys a long whip. At dawn she takes leave of Father and Mother, In the evening camps on the Yellow River's bank. She doesn't hear the sound of Father and Mother calling, She only hears the Yellow River's flowing water cry tsien tsien. At dawn she takes leave of the Yellow River, In the evening she arrives at Black Mountain. She doesn't hear the sound of Father and Mother calling, She only hears Mount Yen's nomad horses cry tsiu tsiu. She goes ten thousand miles on the business of war, She crosses passes and mountains like flying. Northern gusts carry the rattle of army pots, Chilly light shines on iron armor. Generals die in a hundred battles, Stout soldiers return after ten years. On her return she sees the Son of Heaven, The Son of Heaven sits in the Splendid Hall.

And prizes of a hundred thousand and more. The Khan asks her what she desires. "Mu-lan has no use for a minister's post. I wish to ride a swift mount To take me back to my home." When Father and Mother hear Daughter is coming They go outside the wall to meet her, leaning on each other. When Elder Sister hears Younger Sister is coming She fixes her rouge, facing the door. When Little Brother hears Elder Sister is coming He whets the knife, quick quick, for pig and sheep. "I open the door to my east chamber, I sit on my couch in the west room, I take off my wartime gown And put on my old-time clothes." Facing the window she fixes her cloudlike hair, Hanging up a mirror she dabs on yellow flower powder She goes out the door and sees her comrades. Her comrades are all amazed and perplexed. Traveling together for twelve years They didn't know Mulan was a girl. "The he-hare's feet go hop and skip, The she-hare's eyes are muddled and fuddled. Two hares running side by side close to the ground, How can they tell if I am he or she?"

Mulan Explanation I love the story of Mulan! This is one ofthe earliest ballads describing the story, translated professionally (not Google Translate!). For the title page, the characters are in Chinese. The top Latin letters are the Anglicization of the Chinese. The bottom one is just the English version. The Wood Orchids are Mulan’s namesake.

The first picture is basically copied from an old picture of Mulan, but I made her grin and hold a sword aloft, as it looks epic. The last one is copied (sort of) off an old painting of an ancient Chinese woman’s painting. However, I made her look less smug, have her waving at someone, and not holding fan. To show her past, she’s missing a finger on her left hand. Please understand that the original poem is set in about 400-500, and I couldn’t find an image of women’s fashion from back then. The art that I was inspired by is much younger.

Note: In many East-Asian cultures, tattoos are considered barbaric. However, even though Mulan was from the North of China, I imagine she probably toured around Ancient China of that time, and the countries South that would eventually be added to Ancient China to make modern China. In the South, there was a tribe of people called the Li, and a subset called the Xian. During the time Mulan lived, there was a real lady named Hsein, who not only kept her culture alive during colonization, but also helped Kingfisher birds to stop being endangered. Maybe they would’ve met. In any case, that tribe often had tattoos all over their bodies and faces. Mulan probably wouldn’t have wanted a big tattoo, but perhaps she would’ve liked one. So, she has an orchid on her heart.

Another note: The emperor was considered to be divine, which is why he was called, ‘The Son of Heaven. And I did not edit the poem.

Link to where the original post was