#are we dissecting symbolism

[starmocha]

"Thank god for men and their bigass fucking veiny hands and long fingers." — your local girlie with a hand fetish 💖

[what-even-is-sleep]

thinking about Bodkin again bc I mean,,, ALL THE SYMBOLISM OHHHHHGH. i NEED some tumblr film analysis hobbyists to watch this show and tell me all the themes n such

[vip-komilk]

So sorry to a friend who asked for leonfrancis foodplay and what I immediately thought of was “disconcerting forcefeeding” and “raw venison, Francis covered in blood”, sorry for my Stephen king ass brain

[thermesiini]

is there not any online record of people discussing what black swan is actually about

[aleksatia]

❄️Blind date with your ex-husband. You never expected it to be… Zayne.

Inspiration hit me going 100mph down the highway, and I took an unscheduled gas station stop just to write this down. My husband almost divorced me again thinking I’d lost my mind — so in a way, this series is dedicated to him. And to second chances. I know they exist. I’ve lived one. 🥀

An unplanned new series. Five ex-husbands. Same setup, different reactions.

🎨 Rafayel | 🏍 Sylus | ✨Xavier | 🍎 Caleb

CW/TW: Divorce / Post-divorce emotional trauma, Emotional neglect / emotional suppression, Communication breakdown in relationships, References to emotional dissociation, Raised voices / emotionally intense confrontation, Crying / emotional vulnerability, Mention of jealousy & insecurity, Gaslighting-adjacent dynamics (arguably), Implied sexual tension / physical intimacy (consensual, emotional).

Pairing: Zayne x ex-wife!you Genre: Slow-burn, emotional dissection, second chances soaked in silence. Heavy on longing, surgical precision on heartbreak. Lovers to strangers to… Summary: Zayne doesn't do chaos. He does control, routine, distance. But when fate traps you both in a curated room labeled “One Hour of Honest Connection,” the silence breaks first. What follows is memory, ache, and the terrifying weight of things never said. Word Count: 3.3K

The room was small. Too small for this.

Soft jazz filtered through hidden speakers. There were two cups of something herbal already on the table, a plate of small, intentionally complicated desserts arranged like the nervous offering of a Parisian intern. The walls were a muted sage green, the lighting gentle. It would’ve been cozy, if it weren’t for the glaring fact that Zayne was sitting across from you.

You blinked once. Then again.

"No," you said flatly.

Zayne, ever efficient, didn’t even look up from the glass of water he was examining.

"Statistically," he said, voice calm, "there was a 0.2% chance of this exact pairing."

You stared at him. "So what I’m hearing is: we’re still just that unlucky."

He looked up then. God, those eyes. Calculated glacier. "Technically, yes."

The silence that followed was not companionable.

You hadn’t seen him in eleven months. Not since the divorce. Not since you stood in that shared apartment and told him — voice shaking, fingers cold — that you couldn’t keep guessing if you were real to him.

He hadn’t fought you.

He’d just stood there, like someone who'd miscalculated a formula and refused to recheck it.

You waited for something — anything. He stayed silent.

He stayed silent even when you sent the divorce papers. Even when it was over in a small judge’s office, quiet and procedural. He brought flowers — jasmine — and you still don’t know if they were a symbol of freedom or a plea.

 He never explained.

Just spoke in clipped, efficient phrases, like he’d already erased you from his life.

And now — now you were locked in a curated hell that probably had its own photo filter. A little brass plaque on the inside of the door read: One Hour of Honest Connection.

You almost laughed. Almost.

Zayne adjusted his cuffs. You noticed — god help you — that he still wore the watch you gave him. The one with the engraving inside: Every time your pulse stutters, it’s me.

Of course he still wore it. The man remembered to reorder that book you never finished—left it on your doorstep in silent punctuation.

"This wasn’t deliberate," you said finally.

"Agreed."

You folded your arms. "So. Let’s make this painless. We wait the hour, we don’t talk about feelings, and we pretend your emotional negligence wasn’t the reason we’re now two sad statistics sipping herbal disappointment."

Zayne raised an eyebrow. "Technically, the tea is chamomile, which is known for its calming properties. And you’re the one who said ‘emotional negligence.’"

"God, you’re still exhausting."

He didn’t flinch. Of course not. That would imply a physiological reaction. "So I’ve been told."

You stared at him for a beat. The weight of old familiarity draped the room like a too-heavy coat. He hadn’t changed. Not in the obvious ways. Still buttoned-down, still precise, still that undercurrent of something almost tender that never made it to the surface.

"Why are you even here?" you asked suddenly. "Blind dates don’t strike me as your thing. Too much room for inefficiency."

He tilted his head. “The nursing staff submitted my name. Some kind of team-building initiative.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess. They were hoping to end up across the table themselves?”

Zayne didn’t blink. “Several of them expressed interest.”

You snorted, sharper than you meant to. “Charming.”

He nodded, like you were discussing post-op recovery times. “I considered opting out. But I didn’t.”

That surprised you. Enough to glance at him fully, meet his eyes, where something flickered — not regret, exactly. But its distant cousin. The one who shows up late to funerals.

“Why not?”

He took a sip of tea. “I wanted to see what I’d do.”

You hated how that hit. How much you wanted to ask: How many phone numbers did you collect before you landed here?

But you didn’t.

The desserts between you remained untouched. Tiny works of art. Sugar sculptures that mocked you with their curated whimsy.

"You look good," he said abruptly.

You blinked. "Don’t do that."

"Do what?"

"Say things that sound human. It throws me off."

He smiled, the faint curve of it almost imperceptible. “Noted.”

Your eyes caught on his mouth — just for a second. A breath too long. You looked away before he could notice.

There was another pause, but it hung differently now — heavier, colored with things you hadn’t said when you should have, and things he never said at all.

"Did you ever—" you started, then stopped.

Zayne watched you. Waiting. He was always good at that. Waiting until your own words betrayed you.

"Forget it," you muttered.

"No," he said quietly. "Say it."

You hated him a little for that. For still knowing when to press.

"Did you ever think," you asked, voice low, "that maybe love isn’t a hypothesis you prove with consistency? That maybe I just needed you to be… messy? With me?"

Zayne didn’t answer right away. And for once, you let the silence stay. Let it stretch and breathe.

When he finally spoke, it was almost a whisper. "Yes. I thought it too late."

You closed your eyes.

Jazz played on. Somewhere outside, people were falling in love the loud way — the all-in kind. Dramatic. Full of color.

Here, in this perfect little room, you and Zayne sat across from one another like ruins politely dressed for tea.

The hour hadn’t even started ticking down.

He was watching you now. Not intensely — not obviously. But directly. The kind of look that felt like it was being filed away for later analysis.

You met it. 

Zayne looked away first. Not because it hurt — but because there’s only so long you can hold tension before it cuts.

He looked down at the desserts. Picked up a fork. Cut into something with a caramel shard on top and didn’t eat it.

You watched him with a frustration so familiar it almost felt nostalgic.

“You always do that,” you said.

“Do what?”

“Control the atmosphere. One calculated silence and the room bends around you.”

He didn’t respond immediately. Then: “I thought that was preferable to chaos.”

You scoffed. “Of course you did.”

The clock on the wall, tastefully small, ticked once. You imagined someone — a curator of curated intimacy — had set it to be just barely audible.

Zayne glanced toward it.

“Forty-three minutes,” he murmured.

You laughed — dry. “You going to count them all?”

His eyes flicked back to you. “Only the inefficient ones.”

That shut you up.

You stared at your tea. Cold now. Obviously.

He watched you again. Observed you, like you were an interface needing diagnostics.

You looked away — deliberately, before his gaze could finish its quiet dissection. But your eyes caught the slight fold in his cuff, the slow press of thumb to palm as he adjusted the line of his wrist.

Surgical. Precise. Familiar.

A phantom shiver traced down your spine.

You remembered that hand on the small of your back in the hospital hallway once, the only contact he allowed himself after a seventeen-hour surgery. He never let his voice break protocol. But that one touch — the pressure, the warmth, the steadiness — had left you trembling.

You cleared your throat.

“Do you regret it?” you asked.

“This date?” he said, because of course he would miss the point.

You glared. “The way you loved me.”

Zayne’s expression didn’t shift. But you saw the pause in his breath. A calibration flicker.

“I loved you thoroughly,” he said. And the word thoroughly struck like a steel scalpel. Accurate. Clinical. Missing the pulse entirely.

You stood. “You loved me like I was a pet project. Like a very intelligent houseplant. Watered. Supported. Monitored.”

“I kept you safe.”

“I didn’t want to be safe!”

It came out sharper than you meant, and echoed too loudly in the boutique silence of the room. You saw the smallest movement — the tightening in his jaw, the shift of his heel, like a man correcting for turbulence.

He stood slowly. Adjusted a cuff. Again.

Still useless. Still beautiful.

“You think I was cold. Detached.”

You laughed once. Bitter. “You treated me like a system. Like something that shouldn’t break. Not someone who might cry. Or scream. Or—” your voice wavered, “—or leave.”

He stepped forward, eyes flickering over you.

“You did leave.”

“And you let me.”

“I didn’t stop you.”

“You didn’t even ask why.”

Your voice shook now — not from weakness, but from the fury of being unseen.

“You just stood there like it was a cancelled meeting, not a fucking life falling apart.”

His jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

“What was I supposed to do?” he asked eventually, quietly.

“Fight,” you snapped. “God, anything. Say my name. Say stay. Say something other than 'okay.'”

The clock ticked again.

He hesitated. Just for a second.

“You once said I made you invisible,” he murmured, like he wasn’t even speaking to you, but to the ghost of that moment.

Your breath caught — and snapped.

“Because you did,” you said, sharper than you meant. “You watched me like a case study. Like I was data.”

Your voice broke.

“You weren’t seeing me, Zayne. You were cataloguing me.”

He flinched. A fraction. Barely there — but you caught it. And hated that it still made you ache.

His hands clenched slightly. Just barely.

“If I’d touched more, you would’ve called it possessive. If I’d spoken more, you would’ve said it was performative. I calibrated.”

“You calibrated me,” you said. “Like I was a machine you didn’t want overheating.”

He said nothing.

You stepped closer. Too close.

“You loved me like a robot,” you whispered. “And I wasn’t built for that.”

Silence. Then, very softly:

“I didn’t know how to love any other way.”

His voice dropped like a stone in water. And you swore — for a second — the lights flickered.

Zayne took another step. A fraction. Enough.

“You think I didn’t feel?” he asked, voice low. “You were the variable I couldn’t isolate. The part of the equation that never balanced. You made everything uncertain.”

And there it was again — that glint in his voice. That barely-there tremble. A fault line under a glass surface.

Your eyes flicked to his collar. The soft pull of fabric around his throat. The line of his jaw, the neat cut of his hair. The way one lock always fell forward when he was tired or tense.

It was falling now.

“You used to look at me like I was a test you were trying to pass,” you murmured.

“I was trying not to fail,” he said.

You hated how your pulse jumped.

He lifted a hand. Just slightly. Just enough to suggest contact. His fingers hovered — millimeters away from your skin — but didn’t touch.

A beat.

His voice came quieter this time — lower, rougher at the edges, like the words didn’t want to come out but had nowhere else to go.

“Another wrong calculation.”

Not bitter. Not even angry. Just… tired. And devastatingly honest.

And something in you — snapped.

Not because he said it. But because he meant it. Because he stood there, wanting you, needing you, practically reaching — and still treated it like an equation gone wrong.

You felt your breath hitch. Your fists clench.

Because you saw it in his eyes — the ache, the hesitation. The damn pulse in his throat that jumped when your gaze dropped to his lips.

He wanted this.

You.

But he wouldn’t let himself have it.

And you couldn’t take it anymore.

“You didn’t,” you said, sharp. “You don’t. You want me close enough to feel it but never close enough to believe it.”

He looked at you — not coldly. Worse. Calmly. As if this pain had already been processed and shelved.

And that was it.

“You never said it,” you shouted. “Not once! You never said you loved me!”

That stopped him. Not like a slap. Like a flatline.

For the first time in the whole goddamn hour, his expression broke.

He blinked — slow, stunned — as if you’d just said something so grotesque he couldn’t compute it.

“You think I didn’t?” he asked, voice low.

Not soft. Not calm. Low — like thunder before it hits.

He stepped closer, but not rushed. Controlled. Always controlled.

“You think because I didn’t say the exact phrase you wanted, I didn’t feel it?”

His jaw was tight now. Breath shallow.

“You think all of that—” his hand flicked between you, the table, everything, “—meant nothing because it wasn’t loud enough for you?”

And then — his voice rose.

Not yelling. Lifting. Cracking through him, like pressure that finally split the seal.

“I LOVE YOU!”

It echoed. Echoed in that perfect little room like an alarm someone forgot to disable.

“I love you,” he repeated, lower this time. “I love you like a man who doesn’t know how to breathe around you, but will die trying to stay still just to keep you from leaving again.”

Your chest rose and fell like panic. Like longing. Like something ancient reawakened.

“Then why,” you spat, “why would you agree to a date with some other woman?!”

He stilled.

Then — movement. Swift. Sharp. Controlled chaos.

He closed the remaining distance in three steps.

His hand caught your chin — firm but not rough — guiding your face up until his eyes locked with yours, precise, invasive, burning.

“Are you jealous, princess?”

His voice was velvet and wire — both caress and warning.

And it hit you.

Not just the word. Not just the sound of it. But everything that came before it.

The I love you. The I stayed still so you wouldn’t run. The eyes. The ache. The damn way he looked at you like he still knew every nerve ending and wanted to press all of them at once.

And suddenly you weren’t standing. Not really. Your knees tried. But the rest of you was already melting.

Heat flashed through your spine like a pulled thread. Your breath caught — and stayed. Every part of your body was too much and not enough at once.

You hated him for that. And you hated that you wanted more.

Your pulse roared in your ears. There was a throb where there should have been reason.

And still — somehow — your mouth moved:

“Jealousy’s not the word. Try ‘haunted.’”

A breath passed. And he smiled. Just a little. Just enough.

“You left,” he said, voice low and clear. “Don’t forget that.”

You opened your mouth, but he didn’t let you speak.

“Because I wasn’t enough,” he added. “Because I didn’t perform grief the right way. Or love. Or need.”

He stepped back half a pace, and the space between you hurt like an incision.

“You think I didn’t feel it?” His voice stayed calm, but you heard the crack forming in its base. “You think because I didn’t break dishes or sob in the shower that it didn’t gut me?”

He looked straight at you now. No veil. No control.

“You have no idea what it’s like to live in a body that won’t let the feelings out,” he said. “To drown in it. Quietly. Until you forget where the surface is.”

You stood frozen. Not because you didn’t want to move. But because guilt was a weight, and it was finally settling on your shoulders.

“I’m not built for displays,” he continued. “But that never meant I didn’t love you. I just showed it differently.”

He exhaled. Soft. Controlled.

“I don’t scream ‘I love you.’ I leave umbrellas in your bag on rainy days. I keep your favorite candy in your glove compartment. I flip your pillow to the cool side when you fall asleep. I listen when you hum a song twice and add it to your playlist without a word.”

A pause.

“I wasn’t dramatic. I was constant.”

His voice faltered just slightly now.

“And if that wasn’t enough for you — if you needed fireworks — I’m sorry. But I can’t become someone else to prove what’s already true.”

He took one more step back.

“Because if one day you look at me and see a man pretending to be something you want — someone louder, brighter, messier — you’ll stop respecting me. And I swear to God, that’s the one thing I wouldn’t survive.”

Your breath caught.

Your hand moved without permission, reaching for his. Taking it. Holding it with both of yours.

You lifted it gently, pressed your lips to the inside of his fingers — those surgeon’s hands. Steady. Deadly. Gentle.

“I didn’t know,” you whispered. “I didn’t see. I was so busy spiraling through my own mess, I thought… I thought your silence meant absence.”

Tears welled up.

“I didn’t leave to punish you. I just— I lost my wings somewhere along the way. In the quiet. In the waiting. I was jealous of your work. Of your focus. Of how the world looked at you with admiration and looked at me like… like a placeholder.”

Your voice cracked.

“Every dinner alone. Every party I walked into like I was still half-married to a man who’d rather be in an OR. I thought you didn’t love me.”

Zayne’s jaw tightened. His eyes — bright, focused, unreadable — didn’t move from yours.

And then, softly:

“You’re right. I didn’t love you the way you needed me to. I never knew how to make you feel chosen.”

He paused. Just long enough for the words to break skin.

“But you were. Every day. Every time.”

Another breath. Shallower this time.

“And if I had to do it again — knowing you’d leave—”

His voice barely made it past his throat.

“I’d still choose you.”

A beat.

“Because you are the point.”

And before you could react — he moved.

He pulled you close, lifted you effortlessly onto the edge of the table. The desserts clinked, wobbling on their plates. His hands cupped your face — thumbs firm against your jaw, fingers threading through your hair.

And then — he kissed you.

Not cautiously. Not politely.

He kissed you like a man who had written restraint into every breath for too long, and finally, finally, had been told he could break character.

His mouth crushed yours with a precision that stole air and reason. One hand on your hip, anchoring you. The other behind your neck, fingers fanned through your hair, tilting your head exactly how he needed.

You gasped into him, and he didn’t pause — just deepened the kiss, molding his lips to yours like he was tracing every remembered contour.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to breathe, but didn’t move far. His forehead touched yours. His breath was warm. Steady.

God, he always kissed like he was solving you. And part of you — shamefully — wanted to stay unsolved.

You opened your eyes, just barely, and met his. Focused. Hungry. Lit with a kind of reverence that made your stomach flip.

That’s when you moved.

You reached down blindly — fingers finding the soft swirl of whipped cream on one of the desserts. You dipped into it, then slowly dragged your finger along the edge of his jaw.

He didn’t flinch.

Your finger slid over his bottom lip, and when he parted them, you leaned in, tongue flicking the taste away, then trailing up his cheekbone. Slow. Almost cruel.

Zayne exhaled harshly — the closest he came to a groan — and gripped the table edge behind you like he needed grounding.

Your bodies pressed tighter.

He kissed your collarbone, your neck, his breath hot. Fingers sliding under the hem of your skirt, just barely.

Another kiss. And another.

You felt like the room spun sideways. Like you were going to—

Ding.

A soft chime.The door clicked.

Time’s up.

He stilled. You did too.

No one spoke. Breathing was enough.

Zayne lifted a hand and dragged his knuckles along your cheek. Tender. Achingly so.

He pressed his lips to your forehead.

And then — just like that — he stepped back.

You blinked, dazed. Dizzy. Waiting for him to say something.

But he didn’t. He turned, walked to the door, opened it — and left.

Just like that.

You slid off the table slowly, knees hitting the floor before your mind registered the impact.

What the hell. What the actual—

Your phone buzzed.

A message. From him.

“Emergency consult. Patient flatlined. Possibly me. Will advise.” 

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: “Sealed with a Ring”

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 1,267

Fandom: UConn Women’s Basketball

Summary: After secretly eloping a year ago, Paige and Reader have kept their marriage under wraps, but anniversaries and memories are to good not to share...

Paige and I had never been the type to do things traditionally.

Our love story started in a way that felt effortless, like the universe had been waiting for us to finally meet. Four years together and a year secretly married, we were as solid as ever, even if the rest of the world didn’t know.

And honestly? We liked it that way.

Our elopement had been quiet, intimate, and perfect—just us, a small ceremony with our closest friends and family, and matching simple bands that had symbolized our commitment long before we’d made it official.

But of course, Paige being Paige, she had still surprised me months later with a stunning diamond ring.

“For when you want something a little flashier,” she’d said, slipping it onto my finger before I had a chance to argue.

I had worn it, but never in the traditional way. It was either looped onto a delicate gold chain around my neck or sitting comfortably on my left middle finger. It kept people from asking too many questions, and since no one suspected we were already married, it was easier that way.

Still, Paige was patient. She never pushed, never questioned why I wasn’t ready to show off what was already ours.

Until today.

It was our first wedding anniversary.

Four years together, one year of marriage, and not a single regret.

Paige had planned a perfect day—brunch at our favorite spot, a cozy afternoon at home watching old highlights of each other’s games, and now, a quiet dinner just the two of us.

“You’re staring,” I teased, setting down my fork as Paige’s eyes lingered on me.

She smirked, twirling her wine glass between her fingers. “Can’t help it. My wife is beautiful.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks, even after all this time. “You’ve been calling me your wife all day.”

“Because you are,” she said simply, reaching for my hand across the table. “And I think it’s time the rest of the world knows it too.”

I knew what she meant before she even said it.

She wanted us to finally share our rings. To stop hiding.

To be seen.

I swallowed, glancing at my hand where my band rested snugly against my skin. I wasn’t afraid of people knowing. It was just… ours. Private.

But when I looked up at Paige, her expression soft and patient, I realized something.

I wasn’t scared of sharing.

I just needed the right moment.

And what better time than now?

“Okay,” I said finally, squeezing her hand. “Let’s do it.”

Her eyes lit up, and before I knew it, she was pulling out her phone.

The Instagram story went up within minutes.

It was a simple photo—our hands intertwined, matching wedding bands gleaming under the dim lighting of the restaurant. The caption?

One year married, four years of love.💕

We didn’t think much of it.

But the internet did.

By the time we got home, social media was in shambles.

TikTok was exploding.

Fan edits popped up within minutes, clips of us laughing on the court, walking together on campus, sharing subtle touches during interviews—all set to emotional background music.

One video had nearly 500k views already, with the caption:

PAIGE AND Y/N WERE MARRIED THIS WHOLE TIME?!??

The comments were even wilder:

• “THEY’RE WIVES? NO ONE TALK TO ME.”

• “I KNEW THOSE MATCHING BANDS MEANT SOMETHING.”

• “This is the greatest plot twist in UConn history.”

Instagram and X weren’t much better.

Our post was reshared thousands of times, with people dissecting every little detail. Theories ran wild—how long had we been married? Who knew? Did Coach Geno officiate the wedding? (Spoiler: No, but the idea was hilarious.)

Even the WNBA’s official account got in on the fun, commenting:

Well, well, well… look who decided to tell us. Congrats, you two.

Paige was lying on the couch, scrolling through her phone with a giant grin while I sat cross-legged on the floor, watching the chaos unfold.

“This is insane,” I muttered, watching another TikTok fly past my screen.

Paige chuckled. “You’re the one who agreed to post it.”

I sighed dramatically, flopping against her legs. “Yeah, yeah. I just didn’t expect people to react like this.”

Her fingers ran through my hair, soothing. “Do you regret it?”

I turned my head to look up at her, taking in the way her blue eyes softened.

“No,” I admitted. “I think I like it.”

She beamed. “Good, because there’s no going back now.”

The next morning, the media frenzy had only intensified.

Even our teammates were clowning us in the group chat.

Icey B: Y’ALL REALLY JUST DROPPED THAT AND WENT TO BED????

Hey Arnold: I BEEN KNEW but I’m still screaming.

Z²: Not y’all making it sound like a press release 😭 “one year married, four years of love” lmao.

Sar bear: Geno is gonna have QUESTIONS.

P boogs: 🤷🏼‍♀️

I laughed, tossing my phone onto the bed. “Our teammates are so dramatic.”

Paige flopped onto the mattress beside me, her arm draping over my waist. “They love us. The fans love us.” She kissed my temple. “And I love you.”

I sighed happily, turning to bury my face in her neck. “Love you too, Mrs. Bueckers.”

She hummed. “Say that again.”

“Mrs. Bueckers,” I teased.

Paige grinned, tightening her hold on me. “Best thing I’ve ever heard, Mrs. Bueckers.”

And just like that, the whole world knew.

But at the end of the day, it didn’t change a thing.

Paige was mine.

I was hers.

And that was all that mattered.

---

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-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[rayroseu]

I really appreciate the beauty of Malleus New Year's card. But most importantly, other than its gorgeousness, I also appreciate how it pays so much homage to his status and character, from the flowers, the clothes, and the setting. 🥹

We know that wisterias were prevalent in his Dorm Groovy SSR, this time its another flower which is the red plum blossom here😭❤️

In Chinese philosophy, the Plum tree’s blossom is a symbol of winter ending and a herald of spring. The tree’s pale pink blossoms are cherished because they bloom vibrantly and so bravely amidst the winter chill. They symbolise perseverance and hope, as well as, beauty thriving in adverse circumstances.

The way this flower's meaning is so matched with Malleus' character is so precious. We know he's "the herald of spring" because his birth brought forth a hope that the Draconias(or the faes in general) won't die out just yet (the ending of winter) and the fact that this flower blooms even in winter probably symbolizes the fact that when he was an egg, he was still perservering to live. This also applies to his life as he grows up. With the way even if his life is riddled with loneliness and exclusion, he makes an effort to go out and adjust himself with others, he doesn't give up even if his reality consistently places him in situation where his goals can never be achieved (that is, him being accepted socially and him being ignorant of human culture but still makes an effort to understand it), he just continues to be hopeful that someone/ some place will invite him, therefore his ability to thrive in adverse circumstances.

The way he slowly rises in this card makes me feel like it symbolizes how slow paced Malleus is "in going out/getting used to outside of his comfort zone", actually lol. He described his admission to NRC as him being nervous because its an unknown place but still hopeful for the experiences that he might get(acccording to the vignette of his GloMas SSR), just like him here rising from the snow and the way he lifts the veil which makes me think he wants to see the world outside of his country's point of view with his own eyes.

Japanese tradition holds that the Plum (or ‘ume’) is celebrated as a protective charm against evil, so the ume is traditionally planted in the northeast of the garden, the direction from which evil is believed to come.

I also read this symbolism which makes me tear up lmaooo ���Because we know in Book 7, Briarland was invaded from northeast where the Silver Owls originated from 💀 The fact that the plum blossom is a protection flower and he's surrounded with it in this card makes me think that it symbolizes how protected he was during Briarland's era 😭and another thing to dissect from his slow rise from the snow with the fact the plum blossom signifies protection is probably the fact that he took so long to hatch despite many people caring for him.

Side note that in Malleus Bloom Birthday Groovy, it implied that he was born in daytime during a snowfall, and he was happy experiencing the winter, just like in this New Years card where he's smiling against the heavy snowfall 🥹

In Japan, plum blossoms symbolize good fortune, an auspicious flower, along with pine and bamboo, and the arrival of early spring. They are often used as the design for New Year’s greeting cards and other celebratory occasions. (And maybe this is just the likely reason why this flower is here in Malleus' card and I'm overthinking it above lol

Next thing I want to mention is his clothes, that attire reminds me of the formal outfit of a Japanese Emperor (From what I searched, its called sokutai, but what Malleus wears is much more simpler I guess, its a outfit derived from it which is called ikan.) This post is a great overview about these two outfits.

Ikan is the work clothes of nobles and government officials in the Imperial Court after the Heian period. Sokutai is a formal costume for those from the Emperor to the court nobles in and after Heian period (Heian costume). Ikan is called 'tonoi (nighttime) costume', whereas sokutai is called 'hino (daytime) costume'. (which probably references the fact that he's a night fae)

The point is, what Malleus wears in this card is a very traditional garment that only high ranking Japanese officials can wear. But what he wears isn't the clothes of an emperor yet, but just for a high ranking official, which is accurate to his status that he's still a crown prince not yet the king, because only Maleficia truly rules Briar Valley right now.

I love the decision that they made him wear such a prestigious outfit because the story of the New Years event is the characters working on customer service lol Its like his clothes is a reminder that he is still highly distinguished even if temporarily he's a worker.

Lastly the VEIL !!!!!! That's the thing that catched my eyes the most in this card lol I KNOW they're not referencing a wedding here because the veil don't look the same, but its so good not to mention that the one of the headress of a Japanese bride is called tsunokakushi and its description can be related with Malleus a lot lol.

The term is a compound of 角 (tsuno, "horn") + 隠し (kakushi, "hiding"). This derivation is listed in some sources as a reference to hiding a bride's "horns" of anger, jealousy, or other negative qualities, in order to present a more virtuous image for the wedding. However, this interpretation might be a folk etymology resulting from a shift in the reading and meaning.

The headdress and the veil aren't the same thing but I kinda feel like this is the idea they're going for considering the veil is 1) hiding his horns, 2) he's a character associated with being jealous, and most importantly, 3) only the person he is looking at can see his face (which is the point of most wedding veils/headdress, to hide the bride's face so that only her partner can see it).

But long veils, like the one Malleus is holding is also just a garment for a noble to hide their nobility. Which is this is probably the likely reason, considering he's using that veil to cover up his horns and his clothes, the most obvious features of his status.

Also, it could be just a fun reference to the fact that Maleficent in live action wore a long veil to hide her horns so that she wouldn't scare the humans lol

[medusaesque]

Kim Kitsuragi and the pale-

Kim has a unique relationship to the pale, I tried dissecting it and making sense of it. Reposting with more thoughts after some good conversations with @binomech.

Warning- it's insanely long.

1. After life, death

One of the first thing you can learn about Kim is that he would hurl himself in death's way to save you. From the very first moment, Kim is related to sacrifice and death, it follows him wherever he goes-

The slaughterhouse.

He lost his parents at two years old. He worked a year in Processing (here's good post about that by @renmorris and @spilledkaleidoscope). He lost his partner, Eyes. People have taken a bullet that was meant for his more than once. His survivor's guilt is insane. He's killed six people. He's afraid of killing recklessly, and has a deeply unhealthy relationship with his gun (made another embarrassingly long post about that).

Kim also hears pale 'ghosts' on the police radio all the time, talks about it like it's normal, and says he doesn't believe in ghosts.

If harry is with Noid during the Moralist dream quest (more on it later), Harry can even wonder if Kim himself is a ghost, prompting this beautiful exchange-

And he's not entirely wrong. When Harry gets shot, after Kim fulfills Espirit's promise and stands in death's way for him, you can ask as you fall into darkness what will happen to you-

It's the living who are ghosts. You can leave them behind and rest. Go into the wild pale yonder, along with everyone else Kim has ever cared about. Or at least you can try to.

When death is at the door, you have two options-

2. After death, life again

Kim might associate himself with death, but Harry associates him with life again and again- Death is darkness, Kim has a light bulb halo. Death is a sunset, Kim is a sunrise. Death is where you are when the game start, it's ready to take you, and then- a clarion call, the sound of a motor carriage, a detective arriving on the scene, and you open your eyes.

Of course Kim is no actual saint, no guardian angel, but it's really telling that even in harry's deification the symbols of Kim's holiness are worldly, almost mundane, the matters of every day life- a celling's fan lightbulb, the engine of a car..

Or the way @binomech said it when discussing Kim's portrait: this is the only thing keeping you from the full brunt of the world in your mind #but truly you are already in the world #and he is just a man #and that's just a car and that's just a ceiling fan

The game is very clear about Harry being a ceaseless agent of the world, but he's not the only one. Harry stands at death's door twice, and Kim is his way back to the world both times.

3. After the world, the pale

So what is Kim's relationship with the pale?

As casual as he might try to appear, Kim is clearly uncomfortable with the pale, afraid of it even. When Harry brings up the pale, he intervenes, genuinely worried for the fragile stability of his mind, trying to protect him-

It's no more terrifying than water or death or that we're stuck behind our eyes for all eternity?? Sounds pretty terrifying Kim...

I think the key is in the moralist vision quest, When Harry attempts to reach the Committee of Responsibility, and he hears the pale crosstalk coming through the radio, when suddenly-

"Pale is a shroud of memories and it doesn't really distinguish to whom those memories belong to. You could hear anything." You could hear anything, but you hear Kim. Soona even says that the odds of us hearing him, out of all the voices in the pale, are astronomically low.

We know the past has not been harmless to Kim, we know it's full of ghosts and cold winters, but that's not the thing that's eating at him-

Kim is afraid of forgetting. He's constantly writing, he thinks through his notebook, always recording, so he wouldn't lose anything. That's why the pale is so terrifying to him.

4. After the pale. the world again

The world is what it is. God is in his heaven. Everything is normal on Earth.

That leads me to the expeditions through the pale-

Volta do Mar is a skill unique to Kim, according to the stats of this pilot jackets, and it's a Physique skill.

It's driving me crazy to think how Kim wanted to be revolutionary pilot as a kid, and is walking around dressed like a pilot as an adult, to give himself the ability to navigate the pale. To return from the sea-

DISTANT ENEMY OF HIMSELF?? kim....

Seeing how Volta do Mar is strengthened by his jackets, and the items' descriptions point out that most of the people who used to wear this jacket are long gone (alongside what they represented) and considering that the only real advance in pale transit is the speed with which an aerostatic craft can pierce it, is seems fitting that returning from the 'sea' requires the kind of armor that ghosts wear- the ghost of who you wanted to be but never could, of a home that was never yours. Glory to them.

@binomech said it best in this conversation we had about Kim's skills: "your traitorous race. your traitorous job. your traitorous parents. your traitorous senses. distant enemy of yourself: seolite, communist, cripple, faggot. and you wear it as armor"

Kim is equipped for Volta do Mar, he armors himself for it every day, for the thing that makes it possible to return sane, and discover a new world-

This is one of the most touching Kim moments in the game to me- putting his hand in the rain, looking up to the sky, mouth open, welcoming the spring rain, even knowing it'll bring death and destruction with it. He is devoted to this world and the role he has to play in it, or at least the role he thinks he has to play-

But we know Kim has a bigger role to play, he's trying to do his part right there, getting Harry to stay-

His connection to Harry can keep him on this world once again- keeping the two of them together. Their real work is down here, him and Harry are Revachol's only hope. If they stick together they might be able to keep her on this earth.

UNITY AMONG THE RANKS IS PARAMOUNT.

I NEED YOU. YOU CAN KEEP ME ON THIS EARTH. BE VIGILANT.

I LOVE YOU.

[conceptionsofconciousness]

The Essential Fundamentals of all 27 Nakshatras

Every Nakshatra has a specific theme that represents what it is about. This post embodies short descriptions of each Nakshatra to give a quintessential understanding of their natures.

Ashwini Nakshatra is revered as "The Star of Beauty and Speed."

Ashwini is known giving natural strength, health, and beauty. Natives of this Nakshatra possess a quick, energetic nature that infuses them with a vibrant zest for life. Those influenced by Ashwini have a gift for enhancing the beauty and speed (vitality) of others through medicinal miracles and infusing life into them against all odds and reason.

Bharani Nakshatras is revered as "The star of bearing and supporting new life."

Bharani is known for its nurturing qualities. This Nakshatra symbolizes the act of giving birth to creativity and newness into life. Those born under the Bharani are believed to possess a deep sense of responsibility and dedication towards nurturing a creation's existence, even if it entails personal sacrifices and struggles. Much like the process of childbirth itself, Bharani represents the laborious journey of bringing forth newness into the world, characterized by both the pain and joy that accompanies such a transformative experience.

Krittika Nakshatra is known as "The star of insight."

Krittika natives possess a unique talent for breaking down complex concepts into smaller, more manageable components. With a keen eye for detail, they are able to unravel intricacies that may elude others. These individuals excel at dissecting information and gaining a thorough understanding of intricate subjects. Their precise and methodical approach allows them to navigate through intricate systems with ease, making them masters of subdividing the most challenging of tasks.

Rohini Nakshatra is known as "The star of procreation, creativity, and fertility."

Linked to the moon and the deity Brahma, Rohini embodies the daughter of Lord Brahma, who was the source of his inspiration to bring life into the world. Individuals born under this nakshatra are believed to have an exceptional imagination, brimming with creative thoughts and ideas that foster life and innovation.

Mrigashira Nakshatra is referred to as "The star of searching."

Mrigashira people are often described as eternal seekers, perpetually in pursuit of something just beyond their grasp. They embody a relentless curiosity and an insatiable thirst for knowledge or pleasure, propelling them to explore every possible avenue in their quest for fulfillment. Like a restless deer darting through a dense forest, Mrigashira natives are renowned for their agility in navigating through ideas and concepts, always in motion as they chase the next spark of inspiration or joy.

Ardra Nakshatra is known as "The star of destruction."

The karmic journey of those born under this Nakshatra is characterized by a unique energy dedicated to paving the way for new growth and transformation. Their karmic life aim finds themselves dismantling, destroying, and unlearning old patterns, making room for fresh opportunities and creativity to thrive. Similar to a powerful storm that sweeps away debris, Ardra natives excel at breaking down barriers and obstacles, moving forward with clarity and purpose. Their presence is dynamic and intense, yet ultimately acts as a catalyst for positive change and evolution.

Punarvasu Nakshatra is known as "The star of repetition."

Much like a recurring cycle, those born under this Nakshatra karmically find themselves revisiting situations or opportunities, each time bringing a fresh perspective or renewed energy. These natives living the lesson of learning about how smaller patterns fall within larger ones.

Pushya Nakshatra is often referred to as "The star of devotion and blossoming."

Pushya embodies the significance of maintaining steadfast faith and commitment to core values. This nakshatra imparts the karmic lesson that when we truly believe in our cause, we are on the journey to flourishing and growth. Much like a delicate flower that requires devotion and care to blossom, our dedication to our beliefs and values can guide us towards a life abundant with fulfillment.

Ashlesha Nakshatra is revered as "The Star of Embrace."

Ashlesha is renowned for its deep emotional attachments and intense desires. Individuals with Ashlesha Nakshatra exhibit a fervent clinging to what they love, never letting go easily. There is a profound sense of responsibility towards their loved ones, demonstrating loyalty and dedication that is unmatched.

Magha is known as "The star of gifted power."

The karma of Magha is associated with qualities and abilities that are inherited from one's ancestral family line. Those born under Magha are believed to possess innate gifts and head starts in life, due to the progress they have carried over from a past life. These gifts can be bestowed on them from their family line and passed down. In general, these individuals may find success and recognition coming to them more easily than others, and may excel in areas where they invest minimal effort.

Purva Phalguni is celebrated as "The star of love, romance, and the foundation of good relations."

Purva Phalguni imparts the karmic lesson of recognizing the importance of romantic pleasure while also respecting all aspects of life beyond mere sensual satisfaction. It underscores the value of practicing nobility and exercising restraint to prevent succumbing to excess, lust, and the ensuing suffering that can result from neglecting these virtues.

Uttara Phalguni is frequently hailed as "The Star of Commitments and Marriage."

Uttara Phalguni is linked to karmic lessons focused on embracing love amidst the challenges and ups and downs of unions. Individuals born under Uttara Phalguni are believed to excel at resolving differences and fostering enduring love and intimacy in their relationships.

Hasta is known as "The star of awareness and dexterity."

Hasta Nakshatra symbolizes the deep connection between the mind and hands. It emphasizes the importance of being present and fully engaged in the reality of the world around us. Through karmic lessons, Hasta teaches us that our hands have the power to create wealth and resources through our skills and expertise. It inspires us to wake with the light each day, filled with determination to tackle our goals and ambitions.

Chitra Nakshatra is renowned as "The star of brilliance."

Those of Chitra Nakshatra are distinguished by its capacity to generate complex and innovative designs. Individuals born under this nakshatra are endowed with an innate talent for crafting detailed and multifaceted artworks, whether in technology, architecture, or any other design field. They excel at refining and enhancing existing concepts, demonstrating their profound knowledge and expertise in these areas.

Swati Nakshatra is often referred to as "The star of becoming an individual."

Swati embodies the significance of departing from societal norms and expectations to fully embrace one's distinct identity. This nakshatra inspires individuals to carve their own path and stand out amidst the crowd, even if it requires defying the norm. It serves as a reminder that while nurturing our individuality and uniqueness is crucial, we must also acknowledge our place within a broader collective and aim to foster a connection with the world around us.

Vishakha Nakshatra is revered as "The star of being one-pointed."

Vishakha Nakshatra people are distinguished by their unwavering dedication and decisiveness, steadfastly adhering to their chosen path and goals. Similar to a sailor navigating through turbulent waters, those influenced by Vishakha Nakshatra remain on course until they reach their destination, employing all necessary means to surmount obstacles and challenges.

Anuradha Nakshatra is renowned as "The star of deep devotion."

Those of Anuradha are propelled by an intense sense of love, passion, and commitment, viewing these values as the pinnacle of existence. Tenderness, romance, and affection act as the compass in their lives, molding their actions and decisions with genuine sincerity. Those with Anuradha Nakshatra deeply respect agreements, promises, and laws, understanding the significance of adhering to these values across all aspects of life.

Jyestha Nakshatra is renowned as "The star of the foremost and best."

Jyestha people are often driven by a strong desire for power, prosperity, and a lifestyle filled with enjoyment. They possess a natural strength and determination to excel, using their skills and strength to protect their loved ones. However, the karmic lessons associated with Jyestha Nakshatra caution against becoming overly proud of achievement and position, as this can ultimately lead to their downfall.

Mula Nakshatra is revered as "The star of roots and origins."

Mula represents a profound spiritual journey and a quest to grasp the true essence of existence. Individuals born under Mula are motivated to explore beyond the surface, researching and searching towards revealing the hidden truths of the universe. They are compelled to shatter illusions and liberate themselves from the constraints of superficiality, aiming to establish a connection with the fundamental essence of everything.

Purva Ashadha is renowned as "The star of invincible waters."

Purva Ashadha Nakshatra symbolizes the flowing waters of immense strength and power. These waters have the capability to slice through and obliterate anything in their path, yet they also radiate a soft and cooling essence that renders them both pleasant and bearable.

Uttara Ashadha Nakshatra is often referred to as "The star of ultimate invincibility."

Uttara Ashadha is a true karmic powerhouse, radiating an aura of unbeatable power and strength. Individuals born of this Nakshatra tap into a wellspring of qualities and skills bestowed onto them by the divine. They are driven by an ambitious, relentless drive, pooling resources and gathering social support whenever necessary to achieve a vision or common goal.

Shravana Nakshatra is renowned as "The star of listening."

Shravana embodies the significance of acquiring knowledge and understanding through attentive listening. Individuals born under this nakshatra are endowed with the karmic gift of receptiveness and open-mindedness, enabling them to broaden their wisdom and power. By engaging in active listening without prejudice, they can gather invaluable information and insights, which in turn fosters personal growth and success.

Dhanishta Nakshatra is revered as "The star of sound and action."

Dhanishta personifies the profound karmic insight that the power of sound is of utmost importance. Those born under this nakshatra hold the conviction that all that is heard, received, and comprehended through listening should be applied practically. This belief underscores the significance of not just listening attentively but also acting on the insights gained, going on instinct, and not questioning what must be done.

Shatabhisha Nakshatra is revered as "The star of hundreds of healers or cures."

Shatabhisha Nakshatra is linked to the karma of healing and curing society through enigmatic distant methods of observation. It is regarded as a guardian, overseeing all activities, and evaluating individuals or society with fair and objective perspectives. Individuals born under the influence of Shatabhisha Nakshatra possess the ability to initiate movements and drive change in the face of injustice, should it be deemed worthy of correction.

Purva Bhadrapada Nakshatra is often referred to as "The star of the blessed step."

Purva Bhadrapda is believed to guide individuals towards spiritual enlightenment by highlighting the transient nature of physical existence. Those born under this nakshatra embark on a journey towards understanding the impermanence of life, which leads them to value moments and experiences deeply, recognizing the preciousness of time. This insight enables them to view the world with a critical eye, allowing them to fully embrace the present moment and focus on actions that foster personal growth and the realization of ultimate wealth - which is the recognition of life's fleeting nature.

Uttara Bhadrapada Nakshatra is revered as "The star of the latter blessed steps."

Uttara Bhadrapada embodies a deep karmic acceptance of life's inevitable endings. Individuals born under this nakshatra grasp the spiritual importance of embracing change and transformation, recognizing that death is an inherent part of life. This acceptance fosters a profound sense of inner wealth and prosperity, as people fully embrace the new state of being that emerges from relinquishing the old.

Revati Nakshatra is revered as "The star of prosperity and wealth."

Revati carries significant karmic significance in the pursuit of resources, highlighting the importance of steering clear of greed and fostering compassion by sharing wealth with those in need. Individuals born under this nakshatra are believed to possess a unique ability to guide the lost, utilizing whatever resources they have at their disposal. By aiding others in achieving their goals and getting to a destination, Revati individuals can, in turn, accumulate greater prosperity through "good karma" earned.

Nakshatra Notes Masterpost (Link collection of more detailed paragraph descriptions of all 27 Nakshatras, both positive and negative traits)

[vortexonsaturn]

House is an atheist. We know this. He tells us often, with bitterness and certainty. He rejects the idea of God, of souls, of cosmic meaning. He dissects faith like he dissects symptoms: a fragile delusion, beautiful maybe, but ultimately dangerous. For House, belief is the enemy of truth. Religion is a sedative for the desperate. He doesn’t believe in miracles—he performs them under fluorescent lights, scalpels, and sarcastic monologues.

And yet, the entire show is draped in religious imagery.

The irony is deliberate. The tension is constant. House, M.D. is not a show about religion, but it is deeply religious in structure and tone. It’s a modern-day gospel about suffering, sacrifice, and the endless question of whether redemption is possible for people who are fundamentally broken.

And at the heart of that contradiction—at the center of House’s reluctant, silent religion—is Wilson.

Wilson, the oncologist. The caregiver. The forgiver. The one person who doesn’t try to fix House, just stays. In House’s world of godless suffering and brutal honesty, Wilson becomes the impossible constant. A living parable. A symbol of grace. He is not just House’s friend—he is House’s church. The only place he returns to. The only place he trusts.

Despite everything he says, House believes in Wilson the way people believe in God—not in certainty, but in need. In faith. When everything else fails (medicine, logic, self-destruction) it’s Wilson’s presence that remains. Not because he proves anything, but because he chooses to stay.

Wilson is where House goes when nothing else makes sense.

And this is where Amber enters—because Amber is crucial to understanding the show’s theology.

Amber isn’t just Wilson’s girlfriend or a romantic foil. She’s a vessel. A sacrifice. A holy symbol burned into the center of House and Wilson’s dynamic. She represents the cost of belief. And her death is House’s Fall.

Amber is cast in religious imagery from the start—sharp and shining, dressed in clean lines, commanding presence. She’s the only woman who matches House in intellect, in stubbornness, in biting wit. But while House uses those qualities to alienate, Amber uses them to love. To claim. She chooses Wilson with a kind of divine certainty, and House both resents and envies it.

And then she dies—because House called her.

Because House, in a drug-fueled haze, reached out for Wilson and accidentally destroyed the one person Wilson loved most.

Amber becomes a martyr. She dies for House’s sin. The sin of needing Wilson, of being selfish, of reaching out without understanding the cost. Her death is sacrificial. She absorbs the consequences of House’s weakness. And it shatters Wilson’s faith. In House. In meaning. In everything.

But here’s the terrifying, beautiful part: even then, Wilson comes back.

Not immediately. Not easily. But he returns. He forgives. He chooses House again, knowing the damage he can cause.

And isn’t that what religion is, at its most painful?

The choice to return.

The choice to love something that hurts you.

The choice to find meaning, even in suffering.

From that point on, House is haunted—literally and metaphorically. Amber appears to him as a ghost. A judge. A reminder. Her presence during his Vicodin-fueled breakdowns is a vision, not unlike biblical visitations: accusatory, radiant, always asking questions he doesn’t want to answer. She becomes a conscience, a prophet of pain. Not just Wilson’s loss, but House’s guilt made flesh.

And House listens.

Because he believes her.

Because he believes in what she represents: that his actions matter. That pain has consequences. That love, once given, leaves an eternal mark.

That’s the thing. For all his denial, House’s life is shaped by faith—just not in any god he’ll name.

His god is Wilson.

His gospel is logic.

His demons are guilt, pain, and the memory of Amber in that white, frozen bus.

His sacraments are Vicodin.

His confessionals are sarcasm and silence.

His moments of worship are quiet, rare, and often happen when Wilson isn’t looking.

But it’s faith all the same.

When Wilson gets cancer, everything crashes again. This time, House can’t save him. There’s no diagnosis to solve, no miracle to pull from his bag of tricks. He is powerless. Human. And finally he understands the most terrifying truth of all: he can’t live in a world where Wilson doesn’t exist.

So he dies. Or pretends to.

He sets fire to his life. He lets everyone believe he’s gone. He chooses exile, isolation, and total obliteration of self—all so he can spend a few final months beside the man who has always been his moral center, his constant, his quiet divinity.

That’s not just friendship. That’s religion.

A god falls from the sky. A believer lays down his crown. A sinner chooses love over truth. A cynic learns how to pray—not with words, but with presence.

And isn’t that the most blasphemous, beautiful faith of all?

[hrrtshape]

i swear if this gets tagged as drama i'm buying a weapon / aka get a job stay away from me / aka someone had to say it / aka shiftblr case study #001 aka oh no. she spoke / aka blogger breaks silence (again)

if i share, it's attention-seeking. if i don't, it's secrecy.

if i help, i'm manipulative. if i don't, i'm selfish.

if i talk about my s/o, it's flaunting. if i don't, it's fiction.

if i get praise, it's brainwashing. if someone else does, it's merit.

if i like praise, it's narcissism. if i don't, it's coldness.

if i'm visible, it's threatening. if i'm honest, it's too much.

if i name jealousy, i'm toxic. if i don't, i'm fake.

if i draw a boundary, i'm cruel. if i don't, it's my fault.

if people like me, they're brainwashed. if they don't, they're right.

this is what shifting culture has turned into. not shifting itself, the culture. and before you start: yes. i'm talking about tumblr.

someone shifts, and suddenly they're a spokesperson or a mascot or a symbol of moral failure for your projections. they help people, cult. they post, vanity. they exist, threat. someone else spirals, and it's the blogger's fault.

"so just shift." okay. and then what. the cycle of person-shifts-they-blow-up-they-get-attention-let's-kill-them-actually-until-they-deactivate-and-then-we-talk-of-them-as-a-martyr. why should a person leave just because they draw insecurity??

people have created a culture where being liked is a sin and being disliked is deserved. where people are dissected like suspects for the crime of being consistent. and you call that accountability?

people love to talk about holier-than-thou attitudes from big bloggers like they're not standing on their own wobbly soapbox doing the exact same thing. it's always "they act superior" when in reality, they're dragging others into a circlejerk of jealousy just to feel justified

let me not start on death threats because boy do i have a tune for you. say "this blogger's fanbase is dangerous." and i go, okay, here's twenty-five screenshots. threats. rape threats. death threats. physical threats. doxxing!!!!!!!! literal calls to suicide. sent to me. and suddenly it's all "well…....."

you're not fighting injustice. you're chasing clout with blood on your hands and a victim complex taped to your forehead

and i hate that i even have to say this. because in what world. i shifted. i talked. i helped. i shared opinions, like everyone else, because i'm not an idol, i'm a person with a tumblr account. i existed. that's it. and if existing is enough for people to twist themselves into that much hate, i have every right to say something back

(edit😭oh god it's starting) and i actually like it here. i do. i like tumblr. it's small enough to know who's posting what. there's history. there's taste. it's better than tiktok by a thousand miles. but god. some of you genuinely need to log off and talk to a qualified adult. or a priest. or a fax machine. anything with a pulse and a sense of proportion. you act like people shifting is a geopolitical crisis. you act like a blog getting attention is an act of war. it's not. it's just a person with opinions and a decent layout. BREATHE PLEASE LET ME LIVE JESUS CHRISSSSTTTTTTTTTT .

[yourfavoritehouseplant]

I watched James Somerton's final video, and all I got was this 6 page document

As soon as I learned his final unreleased video was on Revolutionary Girl Utena, I knew I had to hate watch it. I didn't know that I'd spend the following 4 hours making a comprehensive doc on everything I hated about it. But here we are.

The TLDR (is this too long to be a TLDR?)

The intro section, as well as Part 2, are directly plagiarized from wikipedia. The rest is unclear.

He makes a “haha this show is so weird right guys” joke 10 different times

He reads Anthy as so emotionally stunted she literally has to be taught how to think for herself, and believes that being the rose bride makes her feel good

He says that his reading is ‘vastly different” from the rest of the community, before boldly stating that this is because he sees it as a “deeply allegorical and symbolic story”

He sees the sexual abuse as “not to be taken literally”

Insists that the show be separated into parts that are strictly literal and strictly allegorical for the entirety of parts 3 and 4, before making the contradictory move of analyzing characters as allegories during part 5

The only characters that get dedicated sections are Akio and Dios, who he doesn’t believe are the same person. 

He says Dios gets his powers by “deflowering women”

He calls Akio, known child predator, a chaotic bisexual

Uses 14 year old SA survivor Anthy’s passive personality to make a joke about her being a bottom

His final point is that Utena was the real prince all along

There are no citations

Anyway, full version for people who hate themselves under the cut. With time codes, because I cite my sources.

Part 1: Intro

This entire section is almost exclusively quoted from the Wikipedia article for Revolutionary Girl Utena. Words have been changed, but the order at which certain topics come up is not. Highlights include:

0:56 In his introduction of Be-Papas, lists the founding members in literally the exact same order as Wikipedia.

1:40-2:00 His list of Be-Papas previous works is lifted entirely from wikipedia, only with the words changed. This leads to a strange moment at 1:52 where he claims Be-papas ‘lent their talents to’ Neon Genesis Evangelion, a show which started production at least a year before Be-papas was founded. On the wikipedia article for Utena, this is instead referring to the previous work of Shinya Hasegawa and Yōji Enokido

4:23 he uses a quote by Yūichirō Oguro describing the production as a “tug of war”. He seems to have lifted this in its entirety from Wikipedia, as he does not cite the actual source it is from (the box set companion book, btw)

As for James Somerton originals, at 0:44 he claims that out of all magical girl series,”none to my knowledge have been more discussed and dissected than the 1997 series Revolutionary Girl Utena” He will go back on this at 5:05, where he states that “Sailor Moon takes the lion’s share of discussion” in regard to influential magical girl anime

Part 2: Part 1

(At least I know I’m not funny, unlike James Somerton)

Speaking of which. Here is every single time he makes a “wow this show is sooooo weird you guys” joke: 6:00, 8:50, 10:40, 10:58, 13:46, 17:07, 24:16, 30:34, 41:19, 48:01

Here’s every time the punchline to the joke is the existence of Nanami, a character who he otherwise completely disregards: 10:56, 12:05, 16:22, 42:40

6:16 Claims that the “Apocalypse saga” and “Akio Ohtori saga’ are two names for the same several episodes, depending on the release. This is untrue. Instead, different releases either only have the Apocalypse saga, or split the episodes into an Akio Ohtori saga and then the Apocalypse saga. 

7:58 Claims Utena intervening on Anthy’s behalf begins the first duel. While this happens in the movie, Touga intervenes in the scene he uses clips from (like literally right after the shot he uses in the video). Utena only gets drawn into the duels when Wakaba’s love note to Saionji is posted. Youtuber Noralities’ Utena video also gets this wrong, which makes me wonder if this was copied.

9:09 Claims Akio’s “End of the World” moniker is actually more closely translated to “Apocalypse”. In reality, the translation moves away from a more apocalyptic reading, with 世界の果て (Sekai no hate) apparently translating closer to “the furthest reach of a known world” or “edge of the world”. (Love the implications of this translation, but I digress)

9:10 As can be assumed from the previous point, this means I can’t find any sources that point to them not using the title “apocalypse” for religious reasons

10:10 Uses Anthy’s extreme passivity under her Rose bride persona to make a top/bottom joke. I’m gonna repeat this in case you’re just skimming. He uses a trait that likely stems from years of abuse, (possibly exaggerated by the persona Anthy uses to manipulate people), and uses it to call her a bottom. 

He also just doesn’t seem to understand how the whole point of Utena constantly telling Anthy that she's just a normal girl who should make more friends is framed as Utena imposing her will on Anthy, just as much as the previous Engaged have done. 

11:54 Apologies in advance for my most “um, actually!” point yet, but technically his statement that Anthy stops being host to the Sword of Dios is wrong. Akio literally pulls a sword out of her chest in the final duel. It's a more evil-looking sword of Dios, granted.

13:02 !!! CANTARELLA SCENE ALERT !!! He interprets it as them fighting over Akio?? Which like. I will allow people to have their own interpretations of vague and symbolic scenes. I will. I swear. This is not technically incorrect. It just makes me want to eat my own intestines.

14:44 Bad Anthy take #1: He states Anthy “is emotionally stunted to the point where she needs people to make decisions for her because she does not know how to think for herself” This ignores several moments of Anthy clearly making her own choices throughout the show, including the suicide attempt Somerton mentions about a minute prior. This also strips Anthy of what little agency she has throughout the story, usually exerted through messing with Utena or Nanami. (The fact that she repeatedly makes choices that contribute to her own abuse is, in my opinion, one of the most interesting parts of her character, and it's a shame that Summerton’s ‘reading’ of the story completely disregards that)

Additionally, he once again reads Utena ‘urging Anthy to think for herself” in the first arc as an unambiguously good move, and not as something critiqued in the show.

14:52 Summerton reads the Swords of hatred as symbolizing men’s hatred specifically. Again, I’m trying not to completely disregard differing interpretations to a show like Utena, but this feels very simplistic, especially considering the harm we see aimed towards Anthy by other women

16:42 Here he claims that his reading of the story seems to be “vastly different” from the bulk of Utena discourse. What is this reading? That the show shouldn’t be read literally. Or, in his words, “[we can interpret] Revolutionary Girl Utena as a deeply allegorical and symbolic story about the struggles of coming of age amidst widespread institutional corruption in a high school and which describes a passive culture of inaction in regard to brazen instances of domestic exploitation in which there is not only a question about the caporeality of the events transpiring but also which events can be taken for granted and which events are meant to signify abstract sociological institutions.” The idea that he believes this is in any way a new reading of the material honestly baffles me.

Part 3: Part 2

17:48 through 18:50 differently quotes the Wikipedia article for postmodernism. He even makes a joke at 17:55 about Wikipedia. Please kill me. 

The first three themes he lists at 19:11 are just the three main themes listed on the Revolutionary Girl Utena Wikipedia page. What was that about a “vastly different” reading, James?

You’re gonna have to take my word for it, but this section is so short because it's just him talking about the various ways the story can’t be taken literally. He does, ironically, call this a hot take.

Part 4: Part 3

Here’s where the reading falls apart folks

At 23:15, he states that some things in Utena are allegorically coded, while others are to be taken literally. This is true. However, he seems to take this to mean that some parts of the show are Strictly Literal, while others are Strictly Allegorical for things going on in the Literal World. 

This is apparently why he prefers the Anime to the Movie, where there basically is no separation between the Literal and Allegorical

This take is bizarre to me for several reasons, but here is my favorite. At several points, he mentions how Revolutionary Girl Utena is a work of Magical Realism. Magical Realism is literally defined by its blending of the “literal” and “allegorical”, the mix of fantastical elements in a mundane, realistic setting. This idea of the impossibility of a blurred line, that Utena must either have lore where the magic is all real and means nothing, or dedicated allegory segments quarantined from the rest of the story, is contrary to the very idea of Magical Realism.

I can’t help but wonder if Somerton took his mentions of Magical realism from a previous work, due to how little it is consistent with his final argument. Either way, this section suggests a great lack of creativity in his analysis, a shame for such a creative work.

24:36: Shiori slander, for those who care

After this he gets really worked up about people assuming symbolism in everything, even when the author ‘doesn’t make it clear something is symbolic’. He shuts down a reading of a shot in the Lord of the Rings. Miley Cyrus is there? Very The Curtains Were Blue of him. 

28:22 Claims that Wakaba is the key to telling where the Strictly Literal segments end and the Strictly Allegorical segments begin. He states that, under this lens, deeply personal moments of character suffering such as all of the sexual abuse and Anthy’s suicide attempt (which he literally cites) should be read as symbolic and be “approached with uncertainty rather than confusion”. (28:24-29:13)

This also somewhat falls apart when you consider Wakaba is the jeep in the movie's car chase

And then he rants about people not liking his Attack on Titan video for a bit. Since its potential symbolism also doesn't follow hard enough rules to be symbolism. Once again, the separation of “fact vs allegory” I haven’t watched AOT, so that's all I’ll say.

Part 5: Part 4

Thank god this part is short. Much like Dios’ on-screen presence.

32:55 Makes the extremely bold claim that Dios is not Akio. As in, never even became Akio. because Dios is Strictly Allegorical.

Just to be a pedant, this is pretty explicitly disproven in the show

Confusingly, both earlier and later he will address these two as the same character. 

33:04 he also explains the root of Akio’s name in a tone that suggests this is supplemental information and not like. Literally something he explains out loud in the show?

Part 6: Part 5

This section is nearly entirely about Akio Ohtori. I would like to note that him and Dios are the only characters with dedicated segments.

38:30 The part where he states that Dios gets his powers from deflowering women.

38:46 Claims, once again, that Akio’s abuse of Anthy “may not be literal”. 

38:59 “the instance of exploitation here is used because assault has deep roots as indicating that akio's gender is the source of his imbalance”  THE ASSAULT IS ABOUT AKIO NOW???

39:45 Bad Anthy take #2: “Anthy’s conformity to the Rose bride is based around the fact that she feels good being subservient because this is the only thing in her life that has ever brought her any kind of positive reward”. This is a direct quote. Anyway, I can’t think of any instances in the show where Anthy’s subservience gives her a positive reward, except maybe when she’s intentionally using it to manipulate others. As for her feeling good being the rose bride. She tries to commit suicide. Dude.

Side tangent, but isn’t this exactly what Akio says during the final 2 episodes? That Anthy enjoys being a witch? Is the main villain, who consistently says things during that very episode that are blatantly false, our source of information for this take? I guess so, since this is the dedicated Akio section.

At 40:20 he decides to introduce the concept of Anthy, Akio, and Utena as stand-ins for wider concepts, which is antithetical to his approach in analysis beforehand

Part 7: Part 6

42:40 he finally acknowledges that he’s been spending too much time talking about Akio, and literally no time on characters like Nanami

46:10 states that Utena’s exclusive motivation “is to protect Anthy from the predatorial intentions of the other dualists”, which disregards the fact, which she states herself, that she was largely participating in the duels and protecting Anthy to feel like a prince

48:04 The part where he says that Akio has ‘chaotic Bi vibes’ in regards to him sleeping with Touga, who is 17 and implied to be a long-term victim

Part 8: Part 7

54:01: His concluding point is that Utena was the real prince all along. 

In true Somerton fashion, the video then ends over a scrolling wall of patrons, with not a single citation in sight.

[pastafossa]

DDBA THOUGHTS, FIRST TWO EPS.

It's been roughly 90 minutes and I am still processing, jesus fucking christ.

Set behind a cut due to spoilers but my thoughts are pretty positive, even if that shit ran my heart over like a dump truck. Below you will find:

My frantic reaction thoughts I wrote down during or immediately after (character dissections will be marked)

My overall thoughts on the first 2 eps as a whole

Dissection of Matt and where I think he's at currently in this headspace

Yes that's right, I'm using the sad gif. Spoilers ahead. Feel free to skip down to whichever part you like!

I will have more thoughts tomorrow but I am still feeling fucking weird because I'm trying to process both the new series events and the fact that Our Man is back after 6 years in show format and I feel like someone who's gone from starving to suddenly full of food and my body is CONFUSED

The mood whiplash in the first 15 mins going from, yup we're all happy, to absolute fucking building dread and then horrified agony was, I won't lie, well done. You made me want to vomit, thanks writers.

Spent the whole fight with Bullseye just sobbing and whispering, 'oh no, oh no, oh Foggy, baby, no, Matt, no-', pretty sure some part of me inside is stiiiiiiiiill sobbing, it will always be sobbing, gonna relive that for days 😭

Matt crying on the rooftop? Him being so fucking distraught that all he could do was lean on Dex even though Dex was the killer? Just fucking gut me. Worst we've ever seen him, bar none.

DISSECTION MOMENT: He pushes Dex over the edge. I'd wondered if he'd try to kill Dex, with that being his, 'A Line Was Crossed', and tbh I think if any canon death could make Matt kill, it would be Foggy's. And he certainly tried. Matt's always walked such a fine line when it comes to murder, and he's come VERY close before, usually only dodging it because the baddie gets lucky or we can squint and say they did it to themselves. Welp, here we are again, and this time I think the only reason Dex is alive is because of all that technology we saw them packing into Dex at the end of S3. To Matt? To Matt, he killed. That Dex technically lived is a coincidence. Matt tried to break his rule. He tried.

Yes I am still parked in Denial Hill wondering if Foggy will come around somehow, I need some time to organize my thoughts, but even if he's dead dead, I'm going to wait and see if they pull an Elektra and find some way to revive him.

DISSECTION MOMENT: Matt's new apartment (RIP our beloved old loft cause someone's living there now from what I understand) is nice but something I noticed is it's... a little colder. And I think that's intentional. Matt's old apartment was rougher around the edges, warmer, and I'd argue a little more symbolic both of the Kitchen and who he was each night on the streets. Half the reason he chose that old apartment was the roof access. This new apartment is for a Matt who's trying very hard to be done with Daredevil and live life only as Matt. He's locked away from the streets with no easy way to go running, he's situated high and cool and distant, with all those floors to slow him down if he gets impulsive.

Matt just disassociating his way through his breakfast and morning coffee, yup he's totally fine, definitely not trying to block out all those screams.

DISSECTION MOMENT: EXCUSE ME, CARRYING AROUND FOGGY'S MEMORIAL CARD. 😭 Personal theory is he's not just carrying it to have a little of Foggy with him, but because he's trying to remind himself why he's not being Daredevil anymore since he thinks that doing that got Foggy killed.

Queenpin, good for her.

Really liked the touch of Matt cooking in the dark because he doesn't need light. And I liked the addition of the neon lighting flashing in his windows, a good callout to his old apartment.

I'm also digging both Kirsten and Heather, esp Heather who we get more of. There's chemistry there, and she rolls with Matt pretty well. I'm very interested to see how she handles the Shenanigans TM that I'm sure he'll get up to later. I'd love if he could have a healthy canon relationship for once but this is also matt soooo. And that KISS, damn, when is it my turn

THE DINER SCENE WAS EVERYTHING I NEEDED, THESE TWO ARE SO FUCKING PERFECT IN EVERY SCENE YOU HAVE THEM IN TOGETHER, GD

DISSECTION MOMENT: No but I really do think this is something that would keep Matt out of Hell's Kitchen for a bit as he struggles with his identity, his trauma, his fear, and with the 'costs' of what he does. All that work and he feels like he failed. He couldn't save the one person that mattered most to him. On top of that? He crossed his line. He tried to kill someone and would have succeeded if Dex hadn't been built different. All of that trauma around what happened... yeah I could see him trying to hang the cowl up and move to a new neighborhood in hopes that he'd be able to escape. And he is trying to escape. He's pushing all that down, pushing and pushing and I'm Fine-ing like he has with every previous death in his life, holding up like a good Catholic boy, but the cracks are showing. He's a powder keg.

YET MORE DISSECTION: And holy fucking shit when he blows up does he go. That fight at the end of the 2nd Episode had me feral. Definition of FAFO. I know I've seen some mixed opinions on the opening fight, but that fight at the end of ep 2 is exactly what I wanted, that was perfect. Him begging them to stop because he's trying not to do this, trying not to fight, he's afraid of what he'll do if it gets out, but the second that blood droplet hit the floor (LOVED that shot), you knew that was it, ding ding, Round One. I loved how vicious that fight was, I need to rewatch it 10 TIMES.

That final scream. What's that Matt? You're saying you're not fine? You're not handling this well? Whoever could have predicted that you mashing all that grief and rage down would come out like that, not me it was me though i predicted that.

Intrigued by that Punisher tattoo the dirty cop had on him.

OH MY GOD SHE'S THEIR MARITAL COUNSELOR, GOOD FUCKING LUUUUUCK

Man, Karen just fucking skedaddled and I'm wondering if this isn't because she's going to spiral out in CA like she does in the comics so she comes back having also gone through it (I realize it was because, in reality, they had to explain why she wasn't there because otherwise they'd have to rewrite and reshoot everything, but we're talking in universe here). Karen also has a tendency to run, much like she tries to do in S3. We know she'll be back though.

MY THOUGHTS OVERALL:

So.

(puts hands together and breathes because this was a lot and I'm still processing both the return of our man after 6 years and the show events themselves)

So.

So.

I'm obviously gutted over Foggy, I'll be crying over that for a bit even if I still have a lil hope, and am willing to just fix it in fanfic otherwise. But... I liked this. A lot. It's not exactly the Netflix show, which I'll always be nostalgic for, but quite frankly it was never going to be that show - too much time has passed, and batons have changed hands in terms of writing, directing, cinematography, etc. I'm ok with this being a little different. I'm ok with there being some small humps to get over, cause god knows S2 had its issues too (I love you, OG DD, but it's true). I'm really really optimistic about this.

I do think you can also see some slight tonal shifts between stuff that was salvaged from the original writing arc, and what Scardapane has added in during reshoots. And those moments Scardapane's got control are the best, even if I think they've done pretty damn good during the rest of it considering all the shakeups during production. I'm going to be very interested to see what happens in S2 where you've got a singular creator with consistent control, and I'm very excited for the final two episodes of S1 which are both all under Scardapane's hand. The best part is Matt is still Matt. The dialogue, what he's trying to do, even him pulling a, "that part of my life is over" is very him. His resistance to becoming DD again (though as my dad snorted when we were watching and Matt told Fisk that part of his life was over, 'HA! Horseshit.' Cue dad's smug 'HA! Told you.' During the ep 2 fight) feels... like a natural progression, and Charlie's playing it well.

MY THOUGHTS ON MATT, PLEASE STAND BY FOR ULTIMATE DISSECTION.

Oh boy. Oh boy. As predicted, our man is going through it and you can see it (God bless you Charlie, you're as wonderful an actor as ever). He's convinced, of course, that he's doing ok. He's holding down a good job, he's got a new apartment, he's managing to ignore the screams at night even if he has to drown it out with music and live up so high to try to muffle it, he's not laying in bed like a lump, he's not going out to fight, whatever you do, don't go out there, if I go I'll slip again. But this isn't a man who's ok. This is a man who's terrified and wracked with guilt because not only did his life as Daredevil (in his mind) lead to his best friend's death, but he broke his rule. He made the kill move, gave into his grief and his rage, and it was only through luck that Dex lived. It would only eat at him more that it was over Foggy, one of the people who regularly encouraged Matt to hold back from taking that final step. Matt knows Foggy wouldn't have wanted that for Matt.

He was warned that one day he'd kill someone. And he tried to do it.

Giving up Daredevil is what Foggy would have wanted. I have no doubt he's telling himself that.

But you can only cut away part of yourself for so long before it finds a way out. Matt will never be able to resist going to help those who need it. He'll never be able to fully turn away, and he enjoys those fights.

That's where that scream comes from at the end of Ep 2. He has done everything he's supposed to. He's given it all up, he's moved, he's focused on the law only, and he even fucking begged them to leave him be. He let them beat him and beat him and beat him, and still he didn't raise a hand.

Not until that gun came out.

And he snapped.

Everything done right, and still he finds his way here again, with blood on his fists and his adrenaline up and, I'm sure, no small bit of guilty enjoyment over suddenly being back in a fight that he won.

Our man is not ok, and I think he's going to realize that going forward.

This IS our man. There's some frayed edges here - there usually are in pilots, in shows that had this many production issues. But there is so, so much good here too to build on and I'm eager to see where Charlie and them take it even if it winds up crushing my heart a bit more in the process.

[notnocturne]

academia things to research when you're bored (because doom scrolling is insipid) :

african architecture

medieval methods of washing clothes

the history of religion

oceanic mythology

the renaissance era's idea of masculinity

the colour wheel

the history behind braids

donna tartt's childhood

the influence of cigarettes on women in the 1920s

how, exactly, swords are forged

the history of cinnamon (very interesting!!)

the different shades of maroon and their names

who the first person was to dissect a human body

the side affects of anaesthesia

your favourite university's mantra

the black dahlia murder

the controversy surrounding psychiatry

why do we smile to express joy

music theory and how it shaped the making of instruments

symbolism in renaissance art

the rat race

the most poisonous plants

the history of calligraphy

what ancient greece thought about music

how to bake sourdough bread from scratch

conspiracy theories

how to study latin

turkish proverbs

the history of metaphors

the process of erosion

the act of proposing

[mach-talk]

JRWI fans, tell me if this is something that makes sense to you: I think Dakota Cole is the first superhero in a VERY long time to feel like an actual superhero.

⚠️Spoilers ahead for both seasons of Prime Defenders, if you haven’t finished it already, what are you doing here?! Go watch it!!⚠️

I think Grizzly did a phenomenal job in his research of superhero media before making Dakota, and that research really paid off for how real Dakota feels as not just a hero, but as a person. Season 1 made me fall in love with the characters and the story, but as an avid Marvel skeptic, season 2 made me believe in the superhero genre again.

I’ve talked about my disdain for modern superhero movies before, but to condense it, I feel like they don’t really feel like HEROES as much as “the lesser of two evils in a fight that’s destroying a city.” A lot of modern heroes feel too gritty and gloomy, not the symbols of hope they’re meant to be, but only focusing on the reluctance of their position.

Dakota Cole’s story is different to me: we’re able to see all sides of it, the good and the bad, and spend enough time in those moments to feel what he feels. His story feels so perfect to the Hero’s Journey, both in what we start out with and what we learn along the way.

First and foremost, I’m grateful to see heroes that WANT to be heroes again, not just to save one person or some moral obligation, but for the sake of wanting to do good and help others. Prime Defenders as a whole is such a breath of fresh air in the superhero genre for its message, and it gets to the heart of what makes superhero movies good. It feels, for lack of a better word, colorful. In a world of low light and gritty heroes making hard decisions, we get moments like the fight for New Haven where the heroes came together with the sword to defeat the planet, or the showdown with Powerhouse, while we get silly moments like the Wasp Vs Bee debate or the chaos portal in the Winnebago. That doesn’t mean we don’t get dark or gritty scenes, of course- I’m still deeply impacted by Ashe’s sacrifice to save everyone, William’s spiral with his brother, and (most relevant to this rant) Dakota’s surgery. But because we got to see the whimsy and the heart behind the heroes, it just made all of those moments so much more impactful.

Dakota Cole, though, feels to me like the result of dissecting the superhero genre and finding what makes it so appealing and meaningful to people. He is, upon first glance, hopeful and confident, optimistic perhaps to a fault, and wants to see the best in people and bring out that goodness. He starts with a very rigid view of what good and evil is, but as his mindset shifts, we see him open up to other ideas of what goodness means to him.

You’d think this would immediately fall apart when he goes through the heartbreak and disillusionment of losing someone to a villain, and that’s what we see with Ashe’s loss in season 1. He is clearly devastated by the loss, but is the first to believe that they can bring him back. He even says it as some of his last words to Ashe before he becomes The Trickster- “Don’t forget that you have somewhere to come back to.” After the loss, though, he’s only more motivated to save his friend. He goes to train and get stronger, and is the one to suggest getting him back. Throughout season 2, as well, we see the backstory that had been set up throughout season 1 come back to the front, and how it impacts him not only as a hero, but as a regular person. His love for his aunt, his attitude towards others, his willingness to sacrifice…

The first thing that he did for himself, in my opinion, was the heart surgery to keep himself alive, and even that wasn’t all for him; it was largely to help William rather than just staying alive. But he was so desperate to help others that he found the thing he needed to learn most in order to be the hero the world needed: patience. His heart surgery and subsequent training with Master Cole taught him the patience he needed to put his abilities to use.

But I think what his training arc taught him best outside of patience- the lesson that stuck with me the most- was that it is okay to ask for help. In fact, one of the quotes that still sticks with me is the quote from Master Cole: “Sometimes, we can’t carry the weight of the world alone.” He spent two seasons up until this point trying to carry every burden on his own, but this was a turning point for him. He realized that he has a team for a reason, and that he doesn’t have to protect them, and that allowing them to help him will make everyone stronger.

In my opinion, Dakota had the most personal growth out of the Prime Defenders from S1E1 to S2E40. He lost a lot of the innocence and pure optimism he had before, but the wisdom and patience he gained from it turned his passion for saving people and his genuine desire to do good into a more productive and successful energy that could save more lives than before. Sure, he had his silly moments- the consistent Fortnite jokes during his training arc, the goofiness of creating The Purps, etc. But his humor served to deepen his character, and the balance of genuine care and compassion for others with the humor and the struggles he faced (and still faces) just make him such a deep character.

He’s a silly goofy guy and he is one of the best written characters in modern hero stories.

[duckimate]

GRUMBO WEEK DAY 3 - " Nightmare " @grumboweek

"read more" at your own discretion. messy+wordy explanation of the concept coming:) .

.

.

pardon me for being late but i really couldn't stand leaving this looking unfinished so. had to spend a bittt more time on it (might even post for grumbo week even after the event's over if thats okay!!)

we all got over the progression from their friendship to their betrayal of eachother in Last Life too soon. i need people to mourn with me

"Nightmare" made my mind immediately jump to the series that waffle duo really got their share of angst from, Last Life. How an unbreakable bond of friendship strengthened by literally passing eachother something as valuable as a life so quickly crumbled into them both betraying eachother in the end, a Nightmare scenario that the two of them would've never even considered for sure. even grian, who upon turning red was still clinging onto the hope that their bond was so strong that mumbo would join him as a redname. (concept) even red mumbo, who in his last ditch desperation tried reigniting post-red yellow life grian's humanity by giving him the spyglass, the southlander's physical embodiment of their friendship, only for grian to crush it mercilessly ,,,,,,,,,

anyway for this piece i tried real hard to cram in as much symbolism and imagery and intent behind my lines and colors as possible, so heres some of it! (theres more but thats on you to figure out!)

Composition + just some of the details : the main concept that i really wanted to drive home is the use of the SPYGLASS as symbolism for the progression of their bond throughout Last life, up until the end. yellow-side grian holds up a spyglass, looking towards the right

day4 past and future concepts ahead the spyglass extends through the past to the present, like a solid line of sight into the future before its unfortunately crushed by red-side grian (him shutting down any friendship or reconciliation from mumbo) mumbo, back against the future, faced twoards the past, reaching his spyglass out looking for who his friend was, only to see a cracked figure of him staring back grian, faced towards the future in both drawings, but also looking back at mumbo, with different emotions but both with the same desire to move forward, one with adoration and another with the desire to move on from mumbo's dead body and focus on self-preservation. he knew he had to move on, and he was right.

SOUTHLANDERS BADGE: mostly for visual interest! but also unlike the spyglass, is an unremovable physical reminder for post-red grian (literally lodged deep into his shoulder)

CLIPPED WINGS: i felt like i had to mention that they're supposed to look clipped in the second drawing:) "HE NEEDS TO LEARN" was a real quote that was directed at both jimmy and mumbo, but we gotta adapt pfft ,,, this post is long. LOng long. i should stop. special SPECIAL thanks to my dearest @justrelaxhere for their hours worth of dissection of my drawing! god i could always count on them to squeeze every drop of symbolism out of my work. without them i wouldn'tve been able to fully articulate my ideas! okay thanks for reading people:D