Cosmic Veins
Luke Skywalker x reader
Summary: Rekindling after an unfortunate assignment, Luke devotes himself as the wonderful man that he is to strengthen your relationship, and fulfills only a fraction of his destiny.
Word Count: 2.5k
Warning(s): MEGA FLUFF, the reader and Luke just being in love, all the feelings; (both good & bad), mentions of amnesia, the reader + Luke being slightly insecure about the future, just two Jedi in their prime, Luke being a dutiful Jedi Master, the duo discovering their love languages, 18 + – PURE SMUT, loss of virginity (reader), oral f! receiving, body + skin appreciation, and unprotected sex. (wrap it before you tap it, kids)
A/N: It’s about time that I wrote for Luke! It’s been a hot minute and I love this man so much. 18+ FIC, MINORS DNI!! Thank you to @dailydragon08 for the AMAZING lines to kick off the smut. You're an absolute god! Feedback is always appreciated and enjoy!
Salt and lavender lingered through the air whilst the calming sounds of Naboo’s endless waves turn your room into the private sanctuary it was meant to be. The sun threatens to peek over the horizon of the still ocean while you stir in your sleep beneath the fresh silk bedding. Turning your head into the layers of plush pillows, your brows scrunch at the visions behind your eyes. Jolting awake, you gasped for air, praying that the dreams would soon end.
The conflict finally subsided in the past, but the wounds remain on your heart. Luke had returned from the Dark Side, from the vile control of an evil presence that you never got to meet. Unfortunately, when Leia couldn’t find it in herself to fight her own brother, her twin, you were put on the chopping block.
And it nearly cost your life. You were thrown into a coma for two months, but the worst part: you suffered from a miniscule moment of amnesia. You couldn’t remember anything about Luke Skywalker or your friends. Luckily they refused to give up and you recovered in time with the Rebellion by your side. Once you did, Leia immediately prompted a change of scenery for you and Luke. The two of you needed to get away from everything to heal.
Removing your hand from your chest, you ran it along the empty side of the bed where you expected Luke to be. But he wasn’t. He refused to sleep in the same bed as you, in fear of hurting you, so he took to the marble floor. Gazing over to his usual spot on the floor by the changing screen, the makeshift bedding was messy, and he was gone. Twirling the engagement band around your ring finger, you fixate on the pale amethyst encased in silver within the dim light, and you remember why Luke gave it to you in the first place.
Wiping your face, you spotted your dark ebony robes neatly folded on the desk, and the room’s scents kickstarted the day. So with a heavy sigh, you quietly got dressed, and your faithful handmaid, Winter, brought you breakfast and to announce that Luke promptly requested to see you on the beach. You could feel that something was different in the air; he had good news to share, and a smile finally filled your lips for the first time in a long time. Descending the stone steps of the courtyard to the beach, you finished your early breakfast and discarded the pear’s core amongst the flower bushes where it would be finished by the sparrows momentarily.
Rounding the corner, you spotted Luke amongst the dawn as your boots crunched the pebbled sand below. Noticing that he was deep in a meditative state, you quietly kept your distance, not wanting to disturb him. Glancing back towards the staircase, you thought about leaving for a second, but your feet remained planted.
“No, don’t go. You’re as strong as the waves, Y/N.”
Inching closer to Luke, a large smile overtakes his lips, and he closes his arms around you. Feeling yourself let go in his embrace, his warmth was comforting as if it was something you were missing. Basking in your company, Luke kisses your forehead.
“Everything alright? You’re trembling.” He asks, running his hands up and down your arms.
“I’m fine, Luke. I just couldn’t sleep, that’s all.” You reply, gazing into his blue eyes.
“Are your dreams still bothering you?” He asks.
Raising his hand to your temple, Luke silently begins to peer into your mind, ready to discover what’s troubling you. But you take his gloved hand in yours instead.
Rubbing your knuckles, he quietly understands that your nightmares are at their end, as is the shared exile.
“They’re not the worst thing I’ve dealt with. Trust me.” You smirk.
Chuckling at your response, Luke shields his eyes at the sight of the morning sun starting to peer out from under the waves. Basking in your company, Luke clasps his hands around your shoulders and a burst of excitement fills his face.
“So, I have a small surprise for us, Y/N. Before my security team arrived, my Commander told me that he discovered something just off the coast.” Luke explains, leading you further down the beach.
“A surprise sounds lovely, Luke. Besides, it gives us a chance to evade the power hungry Senators and staff for once.” You laugh at Luke’s proposition.
Following Luke towards the end of the beach, the various oak trees start to blend with the damp sand and pebbles. Reaching the beginning of Naboo’s uncharted woods, the sight of a few broken rock walls line the shore before descending into the water. Taking in the new beauty of the planet’s nature, Luke playfully covers your eyes, careful not to spoil the surprise.
“Are you ready? We’re here.” He teases.
“Yes! The suspense is killing me, Luke! What is it?” You ask, trying to break his fingers apart.
Removing his hands, you’re suddenly greeted with the view of an old and abandoned stone tower jutting out from the water. Surrounded by a ring of ferns and moss, the tower perfectly camouflages in the rest of the planet's green fauna.
Your jaw nearly hits the floor at this awesome sight. Sure you and Luke had discovered many old ruins in the past, but nothing compared to this.
“It’s an old lookout tower. Long before the Clone Wars, Naboo’s trading system used to operate on its soldiers living in lookout towers. Commander Uphsur said that this is only one of two remaining. I've already taken a look at the other one, but there’s something special about this tower. Like it’s calling to me.” Luke confidently explains.
Refusing to believe him, you shoot him a nasty look.
“Did you just make that up?” You question, crossing your arms together.
“Yeah, I just made that up.” Luke nods, admitting his defeat.
Nudging his elbow, you both smile at his joke.
“Alright, Master Jedi, how are we getting across? We could jump.” You advise.
Climbing to the top of a small boulder, Luke offers his hand and you join him, getting a better view of the tower. Then, without thinking, he dives into the cold water and resurfaces with a gasp for fresh air.
“Luke, what are you doing? You’ll catch a cold!” You shout, hesitant about jumping in.
“Come on, the water’s only a little chilly! Let’s enjoy the ocean while we can!” He emphasizes, wiping his wet hair from his face.
With a deep breath, you launch yourself from the boulder and jump into the salty water below. Whining at the freezing water, the sound of Luke’s laughter fills the nature sanctuary.
“Oh, you liar! You actually thought swimming during the spring would be a good idea?!” You shout, frantically swimming towards Luke.
“I had to get you to join me somehow.” Luke replies at his victory.
Splashing a wave in Luke’s direction, he uses the Force to block the water before meeting up at the base of the tower.
“Now that’s cheating! How dare you block my shot!” You say, making your way to the tower.
“Don’t doubt my abilities, Y/N! Besides, we all could use some fun in our lives.” Luke answers, extending his hand down to you.
Joining your palm around Luke’s, he pulls you from the stream, satisfied with his trick. Shaking your drenched robes, you scoff at the foggy weather. Opening the old door, Luke rams his shoulder, cracking the weather wood in the process. Wandering inside the tower, the blinding light of the morning sun shines on the light grey stone flooring.
Squinting inside, the once lived in tower remains empty with nothing inside. Squeezing your braid, you try to get as much of the water out as you make a circle around the room’s interior. Scrunching your brows, you take in the emptiness of this place, wondering as to why Luke brought you here.
“There’s nothing in here. Why are we here, Luke?” You ask, unlatching your heavy cloak from your shoulders.
Standing above the remnants of an destroyed tiny desk, Luke wipes off his dusty gloves.
“Can’t I spend some time with my fiancée before we return to Ossus? That’s all I want right now.” Luke replies, with his back to you.
“Luke, why are we here?” You ask again with a more serious tone, determined to get an answer.
Turning to face you, Luke steps toward you, stopping to look you in the eye.
“I couldn’t have the Senators and the others in the Palace eavesdrop. I already feel like a foreigner in my mother’s domain and you know I’m right. The truth is, I’m scared, Y/N. I’m terrified of what the future will bring …especially after I hurt you. I nearly killed you with my own hands and I wasn’t myself.” Luke’s shaking voice makes tears fill your eyes.
A lump rises in the back of your throat whilst Luke bends his head down to you, almost as if he’s bowing to you out of respect. Taking your hands in his, he guides his thumb over the engagement ring he gifted to you out of pure duty.
“But I’m here. I’m alive and stronger than ever because of you, Luke. I know the gem doesn’t feel like much, but it means the world to me. It means you love me with all our heart. I’ve never had anyone step up the way you have, regardless if they were a Jedi or not. You are your father’s son, Luke, but you are so much like your mother.” You explain, taking Luke’s face in your hands, with your eyes fixated on his facial features.
“Will this change us from our paths, Y/N? I’ve gone past the Code. I’ve been on both sides of the Jedi Way, but this feels different from anything else I’ve felt before. Even though we aren’t meant to know the future, I can’t help but decide what I want, what I need.” He explains, walking closer to you.
Placing your hand in the center of his chest, Luke leans his forehead against yours, matching his heartbeat in time with your soothing rhythm. The pale amethyst beams up into Luke’s peripheral vision, allowing him to fully combat the moment. His bright icy eyes reflect against your e/c orbs just as his pink lips hover an inch above yours.
The presence of his hands playing with your belt’s sash makes butterflies rise in your stomach. As the two of you stood here in this private intimate point in time, the two of you were no longer Jedi. But two people who are in love with each other to the very core.
“What do you want?” You ask, raising your chin.
Breathing out, Luke swallows his pride.
“You.”
Closing his lips around yours, you barely have time to register his answer as his hands begin to wander along your drenched robes. Roaming against the seams and stitching of the sash at your hips, Luke quickly rids you of the tight knot, while guiding you backwards into the growing sunspot. Discarding the ebony robes from your chilled form, freeing your exposed chest underneath. Descending your goosebumped filled body, Luke glides his lips along every part of your exposed skin, and tugs around the shape of your breasts, letting go once you begin to shiver unnaturally from the cold.
Untying your boots, he pulls your pants from your shaking legs, hoping to quickly get you warm. Ridding himself of his frigid clothes, Luke is suddenly hypnotized by the beauty of your nude form, his lips pressed along the crease of your hips, and continues towards the sensitive skin of your thighs. Collecting your throbbing folds in his lips, your mouth falls open just as Luke’s tongue plays with the bundle of nerves.
Running your fingers through his dirty blonde hair, Luke inserts his tongue past your virgin entrance, hoping to explore all of you first. Moaning at this unfamiliar feeling, your fingers repeatedly scratch his scalp as the booming sound of your heartbeat fills your ears, drowning out every other sound.
“Luke?” You call out.
Immediately stopping, Luke stands up in a heartbeat and gives you all of his attention.
“Yes?” He responds, taking your chin in his hand.
“I need all of you.” You whisper before him.
Collapsing your arms around his broad shoulders, your nearly exhausted pants fill the air.
Deepening the kiss once more, Luke captures your taste in your mouth, before laying you down in the middle of the floor on top of his cloak. Hovering above your body, Luke gives you soft kisses along your jaw, allowing some of your tension to disappear. Closing the space between you, Luke guides your legs around his waist, opening yourself to him. Shifting yourself to get comfortable, Luke adjusts his weight to his knees, and presses his hands on either side of your face.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Y/N.” Luke says, touching your nose with his.
“You won’t, Luke. I trust you.” You whisper, closing your eyes.
Capturing your neck with a series of kisses, Luke gently touches his manhood against your openings causing you to gulp at the sensation of it all. Teasing your throbbing folds with his erect tip, a gasp escapes your lips and you grip his broad shoulders at the unknown feeling of your bodies melting around each other. Your bundle of nerves soak up Luke’s warmth and he slowly thrusts himself past your entrance, Luke desperately wanted nothing more than to be deep inside of you, allowing you to surrender to his euphoria. Wincing at this foreign feeling, you lean into his arms, silently begging for support and Luke senses your growing desperation.
“Are you alright? Do you want me to stop?” He asks into your ear.
“No, I’m alright. Just keep going.” You answer.
Smiling at your sudden boost of confidence, Luke quickened his pace, wanting to feel you around him. Trailing his lips down to your collarbones, the sweet sounds of your shared moans became more valuable than anything on Naboo. Gliding your hands down Luke’s muscular form, you suddenly became overwhelmed with all the love and lust in the world, causing a few tears to fall down your face.
Pepper kissing your tears away, Luke’s lungs suddenly clogged with lust as he opened himself up to you, and he buried his face in the softness of your neck. Stretching himself out, you welcomed his pleasure into your heart as he placed his hand on your chest. Discovering your sensitive spot, you both moaned and whimpered at how good everything felt. Digging your nails deeper into Luke’s hot skin, you felt a fluttering in your stomach.
“I’m here, Y/N.” Luke says as his voice echoes in your ears.
Nodding at his declaration, you couldn’t handle the tension for a second longer, and your walls squeezed around Luke. Finishing after you, your whole body went numb and Luke’s ears started to ring. Shielding your nude skin from the cold, Luke pulled his cloak around tired body. Hugging his muscular form, the warmth of his cloak made your eyelids grow heavy as Luke gave you his arm to lay on.
“I’ll never stop loving you, Y/N. Even until the end of time.” Luke declares, brushing a few strands of hair away from your face.
“I love you beyond the limits of stars, Luke.” You reply, feeling sleep take over your mind.
luke skywalker taglist ~
@dreamliners
@midnightepiphany
@maybeimart
@nonbinary-tatooine
@kaleidoscope1967eyes
@dailydragon08
@eveningserenityyy
@sonofthedunes
@wicked0clouds
@tearsleftt
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@partofmejustwantstosleep
@xxx-aurora-swirls
@remusstefon
@annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny
@0paperairplane0
@jobean12-blog
@winter-soldier-101
@kethamine
@pantaeudaimonia
@acupnoodle
@flawros
@skx-wlkr-blog
@xplore-the-unknwn
@tatooineknights
@myevilmouse
@gabbasposts
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If Utena taught me anything, it is that stories with dark silhouette people are usually false.
So I’m wondering if Puppycat’s story isn’t entirely true. Maybe he believes it to be true, when he possibly doesn’t know the entire truth of the scenario.
SPOILER WARNINGS FOR ALL SHOWS DISCUSSED HERE:
As we know in Steven Universe when this segment happens it is Garnet telling her version of Rose Quartz story. The information she’s been provided with, and her personal experiences. It isn’t entirely false. Rose Quartz did indeed kickstart the rebellion and grew to care for the Earth.
However we know that Pink Diamond and Rose Quartz are the same person. Earth was originally intended to be her colony. She snuck out as a Rose Quartz, and only then came to appreciate the world. She did not shatter herself, but staged it with Pearl to look like she shattered Pink Diamond.
In Revolutionary Girl Utena we do indeed know that Utena met a prince in her darkest moment as a child. However him consoling her isn’t what prompted her out of a terrible situation, nor is he the main reason she becomes a prince. It was seeing Anthy in so much distress, and wanting to help her from such a horrible situation. Vowing this:
She herself forgot these memories, because it was so long ago. Usually things in this show are not to be taken at face value. Deeper meanings I’ve heard from this is to show how throughout history men take credit from women’s success and victories. History being rewritten just like these memories. Another possible meaning to this is also heteronormativity. The prince saves her, leaves, and gives her a ring(which is to be speculated as an engagement ring.) Hell Akio even twists the narrative to fit it that way, so he can push Utena into the princess role.
Also interesting..
Both Puppycat and Utena are false princes.
Once putting on the rings however. One decides to play the role, and the other transforms into one.
Hell even Puppycat’s attire looks so much like Akio’s. Prince outfit.
Besides rambling on why I’m theorizing this..
Does anybody know if Natasha Allegri is a Utena fan? I tried looking into it, but can’t find anything. It’s just too much of a coincidence: the rings, how the back stories are told, princes, princesses, and they both even have the rotating flowers motif when the stories are being told.
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Quinlan frowned to himself. Obi-Wan had slipped into the dingy old building all alone more than an hour ago and no one had joined him yet.
Unlike the last time, when multiple armed and dangerous individuals had arrived within minutes of each other and he had caught Obi-Wan red-handed planning a slave rebellion with a known terrorist (he ended up helping Obi-Wan instead of reporting him, but it also kickstarted his hobby of Stalking Obi-Wan Whenever He Acted Suspicious).
But back to the situation at hand. He could not sense the force presence of anyone other than Kenobi inside the building, and he was beginning to get worried. The presence of an impatient pubescent teen who had begged to tag along was not helping either.
Perhaps it was time to crash this suspicious activity. He detached himself from the shadows of the alleys, taking Anakin (who had been crouching behind a dumpster) with him.
Quinlan put a finger to his lips before slowly easing the door to the building open, wincing when it let out a loud creak. Then he had to wince again because the apparently soundproof door had masked the song that was blasting throughout the room.
♫ Unbreak my heart ♫
It was a cramped, dingy room with a large table - a panel, Quinlan corrected to himself. It looked strangely similar to the control panel of a starship, but Quinlan could not recognise any of the buttons or levers. They had strange labels like Audio Input 2 and Mic 1 and Gain.
♫ Don't betray me again ♫
Strangest of all were the music players perched on top of the control panel, blasting the unfamiliar BK song.
♫ Undo this hurt you caused when you killed all of them and you– ♫
Where was Obi-Wan?
Quinlan felt a tug on his robes and he looked down at Anakin, who was in turn staring intently at the grimy wall behind the control panel. He squinted. There was an oddly placed transparesteel window looking into the next room, almost opaque with the buildup of dirt and stains. He could somewhat make out Obi-Wan's figure behind the transparesteel.
Obi-Wan was...he was...mouthing along to the lyrics of the BK song? In front of what looked like a professionally set up microphone, complete with a pop filter and headphones.
Wait a second. An unfamiliar BK song? Quinlan prided himself on keeping track of all BK songs to annoy Obi-Wan.
The song wasn't coming from a music player. It was Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan was BK. He had been BK this whole time.
Without hesitation, Quinlan burst into the recording studio because it was so ridiculous but it made sense and oh Force he was never gonna let Obi-Wan live this down–
"Uncry these tears, I cried so many nigh– Quinlan! What the kriff are you doing here?"
"Obi-Wan! What language, and with a child present too!" Quinlan made his voice sound as disapproving as possible as he stepped aside and allowed the child in question to be in view.
Obi-Wan blanched as Anakin scowled at Quinlan.
Quinlan smirked.
"I think we both deserve an explanation, don't we, Anakin?"
Obi-Wan let out a long-suffering sigh.
"Can you let me finish recording this song, at least? I want to release BK's next album by next month, and it's not like I'm gonna have time after today what with that mission the Council's assigned me."
"Wait!" Anakin's eyes were as wide as saucers. "You're BK?!"
Obi-Wan buried his face in his hands.
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"You live in a darkened house, and in your darkened house are infinite rooms. By the light of a dying candle you cross the room - knowing that when you reach the threshold of the next room you'll be gone - the candle passed to someone whose face you can't see clearly."
She urged, "Is God the flame? The light? The candle?"
"The love of God is the trust that you won't have to illumine that darkness alone," he said.
I know this passage in Nona is referring to what it means for a child of the Ninth to love God, but when I read this all I could think was, this is literally what the Sixth House has been doing this whole time!
- Nigella writing a love letter to Cassiopeia, a letter that will eventually seed the sixth house's rebellion, knowing she'll be dead before that letter reaches Cassy, but having faith that Cassy will read it one day.
- Cassiopeia hiding away that letter in a puzzle and then walking into the river to be torn apart by spirits, so that even John can't bring her soul back and interrogate it, having faith that one day her descendants will decode the puzzle, and read the letter, and know what they have to do.
- That letter being handed down numerous Sixth house generations until Donald S ex finally receives it and spends his life trying to unlock it, and dying before he fully does.
- Doctor S ex's soul literally coming back from death to unlock the puzzle, except he lets one final part undone, so that the contents inside may be preserved until someone finds it. Giving up the glory of getting to be the one who solves the greatest puzzle of the Sixth House, so that the knowledge can be passed on to the next generation instead.
- Palamedes and Camilla unlocking the puzzle and finding the letter and realizing what it means, and finally putting Cassiopeia's plan into motion thousands and thousands of years after she planted the seed of rebellion into their house.
- The fact that the Sixth House's skull, a symbol that has existed for thousands of years, literally has a letter caught up in its mouth!!! Both rebellion and faith written into its very symbology for thousands of years, right under the emperor's nose, a rebellion built on each generation passing on what they know to the next generation, having faith that the torch they put down at their death will be taken back up one day, and having that faith answered
- The fact that the house that fled from God first is also that one that has exemplified what he himself has described as what it means to love him
(Also, the fact that Cassiopeia's love for Nigella, a love that literally outlaste the end of the world, is what kickstarted the sixth house's rebellion... love really is too long.)
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Debunking misconceptions that Attack on Titan is pro-imperialist, pro-fascist, pro-nationalist or antisemitic:
I wanted to put together this bullet point list as a resource for anyone to use whenever they come up against the sadly rampant accusations made about AoT and Hajime Isayama being some sort of fascist, Nationalist propaganda, or in some way antisemitic. With just a little research and application of logic, it should be easy to come to the conclusion that these accusations are baseless and without merit. But, sadly, people are prone to hearing rumors or accusations and, without any effort of research or critical thinking, take what they heard at face value and believe it, often repeating it as fact, with no consideration or care as to the consequences of their carelessness. I aim with this post to counter some of that ignorance. So, here it goes.
1. Hajime Isayama is politically right-leaning and is pro-Nationalist and pro-Imperialist:
Incorrect. Isayama has never made any public statements regarding anything political, let alone to do with the history between Japan and Korea. This erroneous and widely spread belief about Isayama derives from an unsubstantiated rumor about him which has no substantive or concrete evidence to back it up. The truth is, a tweet touching on the subject of Japan’s invasion and occupation of Korea was written on an account which in no way is officially affiliated with Isayama. This tweet was seen by someone who decided the account belonged to Isayama and, already laboring under the belief that Isayama was a racist because, I’m assuming, of comments he made expressing his admiration for a Japanese General named Akiyama Yoshifuru, leaked the tweet onto a Korean website, claiming it was from Isayama. It then became news, which as all rumors on the internet do, spread like wildfire, resulting in Isayama receiving thousands of death threats and people lacking any sort of critical thinking skills to label him a pro-Imperialist and pro-Nationalist. Despite happening nearly a decade ago, this rumor persists to this day and continues to color people’s perceptions of Isayama’s work “Attack on Titan”, reading pro-fascist and pro-Nationalist subtext into a work which very CLEARLY is the opposite. One only need use basic reasoning and logic while looking at the actual messaging of clear denouncement of war, violence, prejudice and Imperialism seen in AoT to conclude that this rumor is in fact baseless and holds no merit. It makes absolutely zero sense in the context of Isayama’s messaging in his own art.
2. Hajime Isayama’s admiration of Akiyama Yoshifuru:
Isayama revealed that one of the characters from “Attack on Titan”, Dot Pixis, was based on the Japanese General Akiyama Yoshifuru. Many people, in their failure to know their history or do even the most basic research, don’t know that Yoshifuru wasn’t, in fact, alive during World War II, the second Sino-Japanese war, or even the Manchurian Invasion. He wasn’t around for any of the atrocities that that IJA would later be known for. He led successful campaigns during the 1st Sino-Japanese war, the Russo-Japanese war, and the Boxer rebellion in China. During the boxer rebellion both sides of the 8 nation alliance and the Chinese Rebels committed war crimes. This was all before WW1 and the Geneva Convention. He just led successful campaigns that captured territory early on thus kickstarting the Japanese Empire, but didn’t actually participate in any of the worst atrocities that. He’s a highly regarded figure in Japan, much the way Gen. Patton is in the US, and so it isn’t at all unusual for him to be an admired figure in that country, and shouldn’t in any way be used as a basis for judging what any person’s political leanings are. Further, Akiyama spent his whole life afterward regretting being in the military, mourning for his subordinates and the victims of his military campaigns. He campaigned to reduce military training in schools and disliked the totalitarianism japan was headed toward. He wasn’t pro-war, pro-nationalist, pro-imperialist at all. He was the exact opposite. Much like Dot Pixes himself ends up being by the end of AoT.
3. Erwin Smith is based on Erwin Rommel, a famous German General:
This rumor comes from the fact that Erwin’s birthday is the same day in which Rommel died, October 14th. What even a little basic research will reveal, however, is that Rommel was executed on Oct. 14th for taking part in the July 20th operation, an assassination plot to kill Hitler. Rommel was also not a card-carrying member of the Nazi party, and, while disputed by some historical studies, is and for a long time has been generally regarded as an example to be held up of how one should conduct themselves during times of war. He’s a well respected individual.
4. The Eldian’s are meant to be a 1 for 1 analogy for the Jews in Germany and Europe during WWII:
Incorrect. While the Eldian’s treatment by the Marleyan’s in Liberio shares similarities with how the Jews were treated in Germany and Europe under Nazi rule, the Eldian’s in fact share much more in common with Germanic and Norse cultures, including their names, their religions, their culture, their mythology, etc… Such as the references to Ymir, the giant who created the world, or Yggdrasil, the World Tree, which connects the 9 Realms and is the source of all life, (there are 9 Titan shifters, 9 being a numerically significant number in Norse mythology). The Eldian’s, in the flashbacks with Ymir the slave girl, are shown to be a Germanic tribe of people, Vikings, who of course were known for colonizing and taking over other groups and nations. Indeed, Marley oppressing and punishing Eldian’s for their ancestors sins parallels European powers enacting incredibly harsh reparations on Germany following WWI, essentially sinking it and it’s people into economic ruin and despair, which in turn lead to the sorts of desperate circumstances which allowed a person like Hitler and the Nazi party to gain traction and eventual control and power. Sound familiar? Just like how Eren is able to come into the power of the attack and founding titans, giving him the ability to destroy Marley and the rest of the world, being a direct result of Marley’s own oppressive and prejudiced treatment of the Eldian’s. This isn’t to say that the Eldian’s are meant to be a 1 for 1 analogy of German’s, but rather to demonstrate that Isayama obviously pulled from many real-world sources for inspiration in crafting the fictional world, people’s and nations that occupy “Attack on Titan”. The parallels are meant to demonstrate a cautionary tale against holding people accountable for sins committed by their ancestors, for blaming entire groups of people for things they didn’t do. It only ever leads to further hate, death, destruction and suffering. Interestingly, the character most directly linked to actually being Jewish, is Levi, with his first name being Hebrew in origin, and his last name, Ackerman, being German. A German Jew. What makes this significant, of course, is that Levi is the only truly, traditionally heroic character in the whole story. So make of that what you will.
I’ll leave this comment I found on youtube to further explain:
B Ch
The titans are "Eldians" by name but not by primary origin- anyone with Ymir's blood had the capability of turning into a titan due to a merge with a paranormal source (the "source of all organic matter"), and Ymir came from a nameless group of villagers that the Eldians colonized and enslaved, so Ymir by blood is not actually an Eldian, only further discrediting the anti-Semitism claim, since the "monsters" in question were ALWAYS the oppressed group and taken advantage of because of their abilities. The concept of Pure Titans only existed as a result of trying to duplicate one of the 9 titans only this could not be done either because simply injecting spinal fluid wouldn't do it, the shifter had to be sacrificed and eaten for this to happen (there is not reason why only 9 happened to come to existence, but it's likely just a notable numerical reference in Nordic mythology). Eventually existing Eldians all had Ymir's blood due to cleansing of their own people and others in order to pose a bigger threat to enemy nations, and those nations had associated Eldians with holders of the power for ages, no one ever knowing where it actually came from until we are shown through Ymir's memories: turns out, it was from another group entirely and a freak accident started by letting some pigs out of a pen. And tbh while I can't speak for Jewish people because I'm not Jewish, I will say that a lot of the backlash against Attack on Titan are made from Westerners, because they fail to realize that while the most prominent references are from the Holocaust and Nazi Germany, the full scale of references parallel several other tragedies of oppression and genocide, such as the Japanese internment camps in the US, the Rwandan Genocide, the Trojan War, etc. The Eldians aren't specifically meant to represent Jews but rather a general populace of oppressed people. It is more about the viscous cycle of trauma and hatred that removes and meddles with the history that would explain how it all began to being all but meaningless because there is no meaning beyond humans finding reasons to dominate over each other and believing they are the hero of their own story- the solution is to break free of that cycle so that freedom can be possible. Also while I'm not condoning Eren's ultimate actions, his words to stop being complacent to the circumstances and to go against the grain to make a change to your miserable situation can be a general moral for literally anything in life. Isayama has said the story was initially inspired by his drive to leave his hometown because as a child he felt very confined and trapped and restless-- and then he wanted to make a shape-shifting monster horror manga-- which then turned into a mystery that demanded some structure so, like MANY Japanese mangaka that make stories about war, you use parallels of real life occurrences and maybe focus a tiny bit too much on the European aesthetic and Holocaust. So that said, I can understand if the visuals are a bit too real for some viewers and that's totally cool, but that equally can't be used to dictate others of oppressed groups' opinions on the story.
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❝𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞?❞
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐬𝐚𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨'𝐬 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧.
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐤𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐊𝐫𝐚𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬- 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.𝐓𝐚𝐦𝐬𝐢𝐧 hurries 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩... 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐭.
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Two months. It had been two months since Donatello and Tamsin had gotten married, and things were going smoothly. It was everything perfect- or at least as perfect as they could get in a Kraang infested world.
It was a normal day, like many of the others in those two months, Tamsin was in their bedroom reading some dusty book Draxum had lent her, a cup of some warm beverage in hand.
On the other side of her was an old computer Donnie had somehow kickstarted, a few things lit up on the screen she was supposed to watch (Donnies rules.)
While she was doing these 'laboring chores,' Donnie was off somewhere with the rest of the brothers, fending off some Kraang before they found the base.
Its funny, sometimes when such a repetitive routine was drilled into your brain, your forgot about the danger outside, the chance something could ruin your little everyday loophole in a matter of seconds.
Tamsins loophole was exactly this: Donnie leaves, she and April watch over the rebellion base. Donnie comes back. Repeat.
Sure, her repetitive days were simple, but she'd never change it for the world, it was just the normal thing she could have in a not-so-normal life.
Until it happened.
As soon as she heard the rushing sound of a portal opening, and Leo shouting for help her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach.
She scrambled up to her feet quickly, not bothering to grab shoes or anything else to add to her appearance. It seemed she wasn't the only one who was on her feet in that moment, as she turned the corner April was right next to her, following the sound of ruckus.
The sight was enough for her to feel her entire world fall apart. Leo and Mikey both had Donnies arms over their shoulders, helping him stay upright. Donnie's overall appearance was a mess, his pants were ripped all the way up to his knees and his jacket was nothing but tangled strands. His tech was destroyed and his visor was cracked, crooked on his snout.
Krang blood and his own was littered on his body, oozing from the horrible gashes along his arms, legs, and who knew where else.
It was obvious on Donnie's face he despised the help from his brothers in this moment, doing everything he could to push himself up and walk without their help- but to no avail as they refused to move.
"Leo-what happened!?" Tamsin’s gasp cut through the air as she hurried over to Mikeys side, reaching out to try and touch Donnie- any part of him, like if this was even real, or some sick nightmare her brain plagued her with.
"Krang ambush. We don't have time to talk- please help us out here." Leo sputtered out quick, hurrying him to Donnie's lab where there had to be some sort of medical items to use.
"Okay, I can handle this, set him down." Tamsin ordered, she herself trying to calm down, placing a hand to her chest to relax her breathing. Mikey and Leo obliged, giving a small noise of understanment and hurrying over to his work table- Leo shoving away any tools or gadgets that Donnie had yet to finish.
This made the scientist huff in protest, looking between his brothers offended. "Exscuse me, if those are damaged you're paying-" He was cut off when he hissed in pain, gritting his teeth while being carefully placed on the table.
"Sorry, Don, right now isn't the time to throw a hissy fit." Leo spoke, trying to lighten up the dread hanging over everything.
"I'm gonna need some room to work," Tamsin walked over, hands held in a position in front of her implying she had just washed her hands and they were possibly still a but wet.
She stared at Leo and Mikey for a moment, both of them looking back a but confused. She huffed out a sigh, ushering them to the door. "Out! Need to space!" She ordered.
That sent Mikey and Leo up, quickly muttering apologize before giving their brother one more worried look, and disappearing, closing the automatic door with a click behind them.
As soon as they had left, Tamsin was to Donnie's side, a rag and a few things already prepared. "I don't know what happened but you're telling me as soon as thus is over with."
There was a shake in her stern voice she tried so desperately to hide- but Donnie stayed quiet, hunched over on the work table with his hand resting on his knee to balance his chin.
She took the arm that wasn't currently busy, placing the rag to the cuts on it. No response, no flinch, nothing. So she took it as a sign to continue working, cleaning out the dry blood and dirt from it, examining her work.
The cycle repeated more and more, and it caused Tamsin to notice the way Donnies knee bobbed up and down anxiously while staring dead-eye straight, not sparing even a glance her way.
She paused, holding him by his forearm while she held the rag to a cut, looking at him. He still wasn't paying much attention, which told her he was thinking-or she thought he was.
"... Donnie?" She asked quietly, almost shy like if she said anything he'd just break. His gaze instantly snapped to her, his eyes widening slightly as a way of asking what's up.
"You're quiet... It's worrying me." She stated plainly, removing the rag to check the cut. "Is there any other injury you're not telling Mr about?"
Oh the look of surprise on Donnies face. She found out. Of course it was obvious, how was he so foolish? He was never able to hide or lie his way through things bothering him-or even just trying to be undercover on a mission.
He removed his hand from his face, trying to sit up in discomfort, locking his lips to try and formulate the right words, but nothing seemed to be coming out.
The stinging. He hated the stinging. The way it burned whenever his torn coat rubbed against it or when he breathed the way it seemed his skin just tore farther down. He couldn't fight it, he needed to tell someone.
"Donnie," her warm hand was placed to the side of his face, moving it to look at her. All he saw was concern and love, it cause that funny little flutter in his chest. "What's wrong?"
He couldn't lie to her, she didn't deserve such treatment when she was only try to help. "Shell- it got to my shell. The damn thing tore my battleshell clean off."
As soon as the words left his mouth his demeanor almost changed- it was so unnatural to see the fear on his face, he was always so cool. Sure, he got surprised or alarmed, but this was different. It scared Tamsin.
"Why didn't you tell me?" She whispered harshly, standing up and rushing to be behind him.
She went to hurriedly take the jacket off, but Donnie visibly flinched away, a sharp inhale escaping his lips.
Her hands were mere inches away from his jacket. She could easily ignore this and pull the jacket off, fixing the wound on his shell before it was worse... But she didn't.
Imstead, she slowly pulled her hands waway, falling into her lap as she stared at her feet guiltily.
"R... Right, I forgot. I'm sorry, Don." She couldn't see his face, but she could tell he relaxed, sensing she wasn't close to touching his shell anymore.
Tamsin had never seen Donnie without his battleshell-only once and that was when he was protecting Leo from a Krang attack and his shell was shattered on impact- the same day Leo had also lost his arm. Even if they shared a room together Donnie was always busy working in his lab- so if he did take his battleshell off she'd never see it due to being asleep.
"Im..I'm sorry. I don't think I'm ready." Donnie responded, the sound of his leather jacket squeaking as he hugged himself, hands gripping his arms tightly.
Donnie wasnt... exactly self conscious, he was more paranoid- he had always been with his softshell and it had it had only gotten worse with time during the dangers of Krang.
And now married to Tamsin he found it difficult to even take the thing of without feeling he wasn't providing her enough protection.
"I feel... I'm vulnerable. If I'm not in my shell, I feel as if I couldn't protect you."
The words allowed Tamsin to let sympathetic gaze fall onto her husband. He assumed her silence meant he could continue, glancing back at her and sighing, turning back.
"It's also the reason I haven't..." He stopped himself, suddenly hunching over a bit.
"Haven't what, Donnie?" Tamsin urged, but she tried to be patient as to not pry his kept in issues out of him.
"Made love to you."
"O-oh!" That caught her off guard a bit, blinking stupidly, Tamsin felt a little hot in the face after that statement, the silence not so peaceful anymore, more awkward.
It is true- they hadn't exactly done anything close to intercourse after they were married, but it didn't of course bother Tamsin, given the fact Donnie wasn't a touchy Feely person all that much- so she had gotten used to physical affection being rare or whenever Donnie felt ready for it.
"Well, I'm a little upset you didn't talk to me about this bothering you- and it's been brought up over you being injured," Tamsin said finally a but if a scolding tone in her voice, making Donnie stare at the ground embarrassed.
"Yeah, I know-"
"But, nonetheless, if you're not ready for me to see you in that state, I'll wait. Being married is all about patience, and when you're ready." Tamsin pulled herself away from his back, placing herself in front of him with her arms folded.
She tried to hold back a laugh-he looked like a toddler being told off- husband head down and she could have sworn there was a small pout of his lips.
He shifted his gaze to look up at her a bit brows creased together and giving him a sad gleam in his eyes- it broke her heart.
"Don, don't look at me like that," she cooed, cupping his face as a small, sad laugh escaped her lips. "You have no reason to be guitly, this is about you and your choice."
Donnie nodded slowly, closing his eyes while leaning into her warm touch, allowing himself to exhale the tight weight on his chest, anxiety melting away.
"Okay, now that's taken care of, I'm going to leave it to you." She stood up, removing her hands away-much to Donnies dismay, who huffed a bit in dissatisfaction.
She grabbed the bloody rag, leaving Donnies side and dipping it into the warm water bucket on the floor. Unaware of Donnie watching her the whole time.
"I'll get Mikey to come help you, since he's usually helping out with your shell, right? It will take me a bit but-"
'Flap.'
The sound of a jacket hitting the floor echoed through the lab, making Tamsin freeze, the only sound now was the water soaking the rag dripping back into the bucket- that and her heartbeats that sounded way too loud for comfort.
She slowly crazed her neck toward where Donnie had sat.
Back turned, still sitting hunched over, his shell showing for all to see. Donnie didn't say anything, only give a firm nod. 'I'm ready.'
quickly wringing the rag out, she hurried to his back again, staring at the large slashes into the soft shell.
Besides the slashes, Tamsin stared at the shell, every spot, every curve that led to his plastron, the way it framed his large arms. The purple markins had started spreading one he was older, so there were a few on his back.
"It's beautiful." She whispered softly holding up the rag. She watched Donnies shoulders slack slowly, allowing her to continue.
She placed the rag to the cut, earning a visible flinch, to which she shushed him softly, placing her hand on his shoulder as she continued.
"You should be glad... The cut isn't too deep, I just need to clean it and patch it up."
Another nod. She cleaned the cuts as best she could, as to not hurt the poor turtle anymore as he was already uncomfortable, she in doing so, she found herself touching a few other parts of his shell, tracing the marks out of habit, earning a shudder from Donnie.
"I'm doing the bandages now." She remarked, then he heard the sound of bandage tape being pulled.
She pulled it tightly around his wait a few times, before going over his left shoulder and under his right arm to get the diagonal cuts.
She watched as fresh blood already slightly shown through the clean white bandages already, causing her to frown, but thankfully it wasn't heavy flow.
"Almost..." She had herself up against his back as she finished off the bandages, her arm over his shoulder as she placed the end safely secure under his arm. "Done! See? Now you're as charming as before!" She joked, giving him a grin.
Donnie took her hand that was over his shoulder, turning his head to look at her hands.
She watched him carefully, feeling hi warm breath against her fingers as his eyelashes slightly fluttered against her fingertips, tickling her.
He pressed his lips to her hand, peppering a small kiss to the back of it. "Thank you." He whispered meekly.
"I know I don't tell you that enough."
She just felt herself melt, beaming brightly as she placed a kiss to the back of his neck in return. "You don't need to tell me, I already know how much you love me." She said placing her chin on the crook of his neck.
"You Do Love Me, right?" She asked in a joking manner, a small laugh at the edge of her voice.
But Donnie took the question a but to literal, turning to look at her with such admiration and love as he could muster. "More than anything."
Oh boy, sappy Donnie got her blushing up a storm, hiding her flustered state by pulling away and giving him a but of space, but still close to him.
"Like I said you don't need to tell me, you hopeless romantic." She playfully edged, folding her arms lazily while staring at his back.
"No... I don't think you do." He said quietly, fumbling with his hands before he turned himself to face her fully. She only looked back, brows furrowed in confusion.
He hesitated a moment, but he carefully placed a hand to her hip and one to her back to hold her in place, watching his she visibly tensed, eyes widening slightly as that red blush littered her cheeks.
"I want to show you how much I love you."
_______________________
Hey ya! Hope you all enjoyed this peice!
I tried to get a bit out of my comfort zone-but not too much so it wasn't explicitly Innopropriate or out of my usual writing tone- what's private is private, but I wanted to show just a little bit of how their private relationship works and hope it was well!!
Let me know what you all thought!💜💜
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(Just) Little Witch Academia Things
Years ago I went to a convention where Studio TRIGGER premiered a trailer for the finale of LWA. While LWA had yet to be released in America by Netflix, the studio was aware that a lot of people were pirating the series and showed it to us anyhow.
Before showing the trailer they shared some interesting facts about the girls that didn't quite make it into the show*
1.Amanda the rich American girl
Amanda was born into a wealthy family in America. There she was basically a party girl. Her family used her for her magical talents, as she is the descendant of a power fortune teller, whose predictions lead to her family's wealth. Because of this, her family is grooming her to be the next matriarch. In an act of rebellion she is determined to be a delinquent at LWA
2. Jasminka isn't really hungry...
Jasminka is constantly seen eating through out the show, and this is usually written off as a fat joke. But apparently she's possessed by a hungry ghost??? According to a trigger staff member, she's eating for two or more of them. This is never addressed during the show, and she seems to enjoy the food, but hopefully she gets rid of them at some point?
3. Constanze is trapped inside her creation! Constanze is constantly building and modifying magical things with a stoic look on her face while her more expressive robot familiar helps her out. That's because Constanze literally put her soul into her work.
4. Little Orphan Sucy Sucy was abandoned by her parents, left with nothing but a bottle of poison This is the source of her obsession. She researches the poison she was left with in the hopes of understanding its contents.
It would be nice if these backstories were explored in a new season or manga or some sort of spin off, but TRIGGER seems to be taking a "one and done" route as none of their anime get second seasons or spinoffs, with the exception of the GRIDMAN Universe.
LWA is an important series for TRIGGER, starting with its very successful Kickstarter campaigns and the attention it drew from across the world. Hopefully this series is revisited in some form in the future.
*I'm recalling memories that at this point are 5 years old or more, so take these with a grain of salt. i do not know if this event was recorded by anyone but I found this reddit post and some of this is repeated on the wiki so I know I'm not crazy
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Why the poster for "Dick Figures: The Movie" is so good
Okay, I've done enough Meguca-posting for the time being. It's time to analyse Dick Figures stuff again!
INTRODUCTION
As all of us probably know, the early 2010s web series "Dick Figures" had a movie that was released back in 2013 (almost ten years ago now, yeesh...) simply called "Dick Figures: The Movie".
I'm sure all of us already know by now, but for those who don't: Funded through Kickstarter, the movie focuses on Red and Blue as they go on a quest to find the Great Sword of Destiny so Blue will be able to get the perfect gift for Pink's birthday.
I've already done some posts related to the movie in the past, but I want to focus on one specific thing today: The poster.
Now, I honestly always really liked this poster: The layout, the vibe, the colours, the characters' expressions/poses, the shading, everything. It just fills me with some form of strange emotion that I can't describe.
That said, though... I've been thinking it through lately, so I decided to try and break this poster down to figure out just why it's so great - which is exactly want I want to talk about today!
CHARACTERS
When you look at the poster, the first thing you notice are the characters - and for good reason. Not only do they look at their best here, but each pose and expression fits their personalites just about perfectly!
Red has a cocky open smile while looking like he's about ready to fight, his pose itself showing he's basically a master at kung-fu.
Blue, on the other hand, looks more determined as he holds the Great Sword of Destiny, his pose seeming more calm.
Lord Tourettes is his usual, bubbly self with a bright smile on his face, kind of looks like he's leaping a bit.
Pink is looking up at Blue, showing that they're both boyfriend and girlfriend. She's also holding the sacred lotus from the end of the movie.
Stacy, similarly, is looking up at Red, showing that they're also boyfriend and girlfriend. However, she's holding alcohol (both in bottle and can form), showing that she and Red are also...y'know.
Broseph, of course, is just showing off and flexing his non-existent muscles. What more can I say?
Captain Crookygrin is doing a salute, showing that he's a pilot.
Mr. Dingleberry is just Mr. Dingleberry. Not much to say here.
In the background, the Takagami demon ninjas seem to be closing in, all of them having different poses.
At the very front of all of them, peeping up from the logo is the Raccoon. He's basically the one that helped initiate Red and Blue's quest, so it only makes sense for him to be where he is.
BACKGROUND
At the very back, we can see the map from the movie that Red and Blue use during their quest, which takes up the whole background.
Alongside that, there's also fire in the background, which basically fits the whole Dick Figures vibe perfectly - as well as being weirdly reminiscent of the poster for the South Park movie (which makes sense, since they're both animated movies aimed at adults. But that doesn't stop many younger people from enjoying them anyways, so...):
Finally, there's homages to the three locations Red and Blue end up in during their quest: The mountain (where they find the handle of the sword) represents Japan, the Eiffel Tower (where they find the blade of the sword) obviously represents France, and the ground itself seems to represent the mountain behind Red and Blue's hometown (where the gem of the sword is hidden).
Also, I noticed something pretty cool a few days back: On Red's side of the poster, there seems to be blue lighting - while on Blue's side of it, there's red lighting. I find that really neat!
CONCLUSION
In conclusion, this poster is raw as all heck. It's probably one of my all-time favourite movie posters, right up there with the posters for Madoka Magica Rebellion (which actually came out the same year this movie did, coincidentally enough) and Sonic 2 (I honestly really like all three main posters, but I had to choose only one):
Honestly, it's just absolutely insane how much detail went into this poster, especially since it's for a movie about literal stick figures of all things. Then again... Putting my last two analyses related to the movie in mind, I shouldn't really be surprised.
Even despite the fact most of the characters are just coloured stick figures (alongside the fact all of the backgrounds in the actual movie are just shades of grey), you can just tell the people working on the movie put a lot of effort into it: From the animation itself, to the backgrounds, to how the characters are fleshed out from the original web-series, to even the music. Both Ed Skudder and Zack Keller were absolutely determined on making something that the fans would adore, and it payed off big-time.
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In a world where the culture of cancellation dominates, Mike Baron emerges as an icon of resistance. This comic book veteran, a two-time Eisner Award winner, faced the wrath of cancellation for his work on "Private American," a narrative imagining the Punisher fighting against injustices on the southern border. What once would have been seen as heroism now placed him in the crosshairs of cancellation vigilantes.
The villains of this story are "progressive gossip sites" that rally virtual masses against those who challenge their norms. The most notable episode was the removal of Baron's project from Kickstarter, revealing a bitter irony about what it means to "support creativity" in these times.
Faced with exclusion, Baron and allies contemplate creating their crowdfunding platform, demonstrating that no one can silence creativity when they control its dissemination.
This confrontation highlights an urgent reflection: when did the entertainment industry turn into a cancellation court? The truth is that divergence of opinions has become a minefield, where the slightest disagreement can detonate accusations and exclusions.
Baron, through his tenacity, illustrates that it is feasible to resist the waves of cancellation, remaining authentic in the face of pressure. In an era of quick and merciless cancellations, we need more voices like Baron's - people willing to tell their stories despite adversity. In essence, the greatest rebellion is to remain true to oneself, challenging the storms of cancellation with integrity and creativity.
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— MEET THE MOVSKAS
LUDA MOVSKA
Mother. (b.1954, 70 yo)
Sister of the Movska patriarch, Joseph Movska. Widowed from her husband; an ex-broadcaster. She spends the majority of her time at home; retiree of one of the countries (Russia) leading media marketing firms. She has been a strategist, and marketer and now sits on the board of directors up in the hightower. Her brother's archaic view has always been a topic of debate, where Luda is challenging it; hence her determined rise to the top of her achievements, and accolades. However, Russia is not the same ballgame as America, she knows. But, she remains proud and fiercely loyal to her family, children and their exploits. Providing they keep it in good light.
VANYA MOVSKA
Sister. (b.1986, 38 yo)
Zed's younger sister. Lives in Russia, in their family home in Krasnoyarsk. Vanya is a radio host for Vesti FM; mostly to appease the brood; the media legacy that backbones their family. Best described as she got the humour — the attitude, and Zed inherited the severity of a Movksa. Recently, as most Movska's do — in the form on minor rebellion, has been working on kickstarting her own true crime podcast. She and Zed have very little — if anything, in common and will only speak if it is in regard to family matters, or updating one another of impromptu flights across the sea. They definitely, sometimes, forget the other even exists since their glue — their youngest brother — was always the mediator for sibling relations, and after his death, they both dealt with it in the Movska fashion; they didn't.
MARKOV MOVSKA
Brother. (b.1990. d.2015)
The youngest of Vadim Movska and Luda Movska. And one of the first tragedy's in Zedekiah's closed-off life. They never even found the body. Or at least, the paper's didn't. Plenty exec's and green faces prevented that from being plastered across every news outlet in the country. Markov had been a musician; passionate, loving, and outwardly (criminally) anti-media; the biggest of punches to the gut, for the family. Protester, rioter, and songwriter against his own blood. His suspicious death was treated as an overdose; intentional, but swept under the rug to avoid the fallout against the family name. Anyone who knows, doesn't.
LEV MOVSKA
Cousin.
They lived together in an apartment in Chinatown — years of Chinese food, arguments and endless ragging on one another. Lev's one of the unspoken about constant's in Zedekiah's life. He gives him so much shit, but it's the closest way Zed has to visibly showing he cares. Zed would — and probably has, killed for the guy. Whether Lev knows or not. Unspoken. As with a lot of what they got up to when they danced around each other in their apartment; years in each other's space. Illegalities, and secrets were practically silent whispers. But, at the end of it all, when Lev and Zed are together, they are twisted, awful people that often doubles as selflessly selfish.
Additional family information HERE.
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oof, I knew the “Mainland” arc was dragging its feet (almost as long as “Island” arc but without the lightning fast pace and tension between everyone) but someone definitely lit a fire under the mangaka’s ass with how sudden the jump to the next arc is, like...
>3rd Case is completed, emotional arcs for key support characters are resolving
>Nana finally decides to confess her role in the first set of murders during the “Island” arc as well as the entire purpose and conspiracy the “Council” is doing to practically genocide the Talented
>Mr Returned Decoy Protagonist shows his face again and mind zaps the current volume’s antagonist into blowing himself up as well as an entire warehouse to kickstart the Main Villain’s schemes
>Nana and co are immediately confronted by the military and Nana is evac’d to do her confession+reveal to the rest of the class
>what happens next is relegated to offscreen narration:
>Nana does her thing, but Mr Returned Decoy Protagonist mind zaps everyone and they all beat her to an inch of her life and she’s carted away in a stretcher and into solitary confinement (because she’s framed as a terrorist)
>Mr Immortal and Mr Power Copier are rekt offscreen and also carted away
>>3 Years Pass By
>Nana is released from solitary confinement (among other abuses) and she finds herself in a Japan where all the Talented are now quarantined into a “Management Camp” and Mr Returned Decoy Protagonist is now a Top Guy in the blatantly Nazi-like / Imperial Japanese organization that’s running very unethical experiments to the Talented
==
jesus tap dancing christ talk about jumping the shark, I knew Tsuruoka’s plans were basically a Sword of Damocles on whatever character development Nana’s experiencing, but ugh
I guess it’s in that “secret rebellion within the system vs authoritarian hellhole” arc now
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I do like how so far with every positive relationship Luz has had with everyone, she's kind, playful and in a good mood usually! She coddles King, is super supportive with Gus, extremely kind with Willow, an immense amount of caring with Eda, and I don't even need to explain how she was with Amity after THAT scene in Convention.
And then there's Hunter, who will no doubt be an ally in due time, who her first interaction upon him losing his mask was
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On Psychological vs. Spiritual Origins or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Uncertainty
An informal essay on Alterhumanity and the internal debate of determining the origin of an identity. This essay is written entirely from the lens of my experiences and personal philosophy on identity and consciousness; it is meant to be a work of self exploration rather than any sort of guide or persuasive argument. (Though, there is a lesson to be gleaned from it).
Read time: 10-15 minutes
Content warnings: discussion of death and religious trauma, discussions of the nature of reality
Written by: Xeno
Part 1: Experiences
A question that has always pressed me when thinking about the metaphysical is the classic, “What is a soul, exactly?” Had you asked me this question 5 years ago, I would have resolutely answered, “It’s nothing - there’s no evidence that souls exist. In fact, people can’t agree on what a soul is even supposed to be, much less how we are supposed to detect it or find evidence of its existence.”
That was a fine enough answer for me, at the time. When others would try to explain that a soul is immaterial, incorporeal; so of course you can’t detect it through ordinary means - I would inevitably retort with “Well, how do you know it exists then? We live in a material world, and can only detect and find evidence for material things.” In response they would often profess life-changing spiritual experiences. Or, I would be met with the proposition that the existence of the soul is axiomatic - one just knows. Of course, to the self proclaimed “skeptic” that I was, these answers weren’t sufficient. The only “real” evidence had to be observable, testable, and repeatable - anecdotal evidence was not enough.
Experiences were not enough.
... A lot has changed for me in 5 years. My worldview has flipped on its head, and while I can’t pinpoint an exact moment it happened, I can point to several moments that were crucial to altering my perspective. There wasn’t a singular point in time in which my views changed - in fact, there was a long period of time in which these contradicting opinions were held simultaneously. I experienced a cognitive dissonance in which I would believe and accept things I knew could not possibly be proven to be “true” in the material sense - which was distressing as it contradicted my proud “skepticism”.
Having experienced ongoing religious trauma, the idea that I might believe things in the same way that my abusers do, (even if the beliefs themselves were drastically different), terrified me. My identity as an atheist wasn’t just a rebellion from my religious upbringing - it was a safeguard from the ideas that my abusers tortured me with. “There is no material evidence for the existence of Hell, therefore I am protected from their threats of it.” But if I start believing in the metaphysical, in the nonmaterial, that means I’m no longer guarded from such possibilities.
So, I felt no choice but to push back. I kept telling myself: experiences aren’t enough. There had to be a material explanation for everything, even if we just haven’t found it yet. And more importantly, reality is only made of material things. There’s nothing else to it.
However, I could only remain in denial for so long. I continued to be faced with bizarre events and had unexplainable experiences. And while there are potential material explanations for many of them, those answers were unsatisfactory. They did not captivate the gravity of those moments, and I couldn’t help but think there was more to it than what we are able to test and observe.
Eventually, my skepticism turned inward. In the past, I had been selective with my critical thinking, only choosing to question the world in a way that was comfortable for me, and that confirmed my own biases. However, as I matured and began to participate in activist space, I was confronted by my privileges and the concept of internalized bias. I knew that I had to deconstruct my assumptions about the world we live in, and that kickstarted my journey down the ontological rabbit hole.
I quickly spiraled further and further away from my perception of objective, concrete reality. I began to question everything that I knew, my own existence, and wondered if I even can know anything. These types of existential questions are common and we all face them eventually, but most are comfortable to answer them within their already existing framework (or just ignore them). But I couldn’t do that, because it just didn’t fit.
I was faced by the inevitable conclusion that I had spent so long evading: experiences are enough. And more importantly, experiences aren’t just enough - they don’t just exist alongside or adjacent to reality, they are reality. If there even is some “objective reality” that exists outside our experiences, we cannot possibly know of it. By our very nature, we are subjective beings that experience a subjective reality. Anything we observe must first be picked up by our limited senses, interpreted by our deeply flawed brains, and filtered through the lens of our biases and beliefs. Communicating that information then involves several more steps of abstraction and barriers that will alter it.
So with this in mind, I finally learned to let go of the need for material evidence when considering the experiences of others. All I need is the trust that someone is being truthful, in the sense that they believe what they are telling me. Even that’s something I cannot guarantee, but that’s a risk I must accept - we all accept this risk, to varying degrees, when communicating with others. What matters is that I always attempt to understand others’ experiences, and accept that their experience is no more real or fake than mine.
Of course, this does not mean that I believe everything someone tells me is “real”, but what do I mean by that? In this case, I use the word “real” to mean something that impacts the shared social world (’reality’) in some way. But hold on, didn’t I just say that reality is subjective, and not just the material? Let’s clarify some things here.
Part 2: Reality
Written language is the method of communication used in this essay in an attempt transfer ideas from my mind to yours. Unfortunately - as with all forms of communication - language has its limitations. As our ideas are passed from one mind to another, they will inevitably morph and be subjectively interpreted by the other mind. So, despite the highly abstract nature of this essay, I will try to be clear with what I mean when I use certain words.
Due to limited vocabulary, I sometimes use words with connotations that differ from the way I want to use them. When I say something is “real”, to most people that implies some sense of objectivity. But as I stated before, I don’t believe that we cannot ascertain objectivity, which makes talking about the world very confusing. If there’s no such thing as objectivity, how can we even discuss reality? How can we come to conclusions about anything if everything is subjective? For those who have taken philosophy 101, this is called solipsism, that view that the self (your subjective reality) is the only thing that can be known to exist.
However, for the sake of navigating my everyday life, I operate as if there is an “objective reality” outside myself - the shared social world. It is the world that we all seem to share with each other, and we can come to very solid conclusions about how this world operates. For example, gravity is, in this sense, objectively real. We all experience being affected by gravity regardless of whether or not we understand it. I could potentially persuade myself into denying the existence of gravity, but I know with a certainty that I would still be affected by it. Therefore, I can still safely say something like “Gravity is objectively real, it has evidence to prove its existence beyond a reasonable doubt,” despite my personal views on the nature of reality. This isn’t a contradiction! It’s simply an acknowledgement that accepting the shared social world and the observable facts about it is the best way to navigate my day to day life.
This is why I still accept things such as the scientific method as being one of the most effective ways to come to conclusions about the material. I can hold beliefs about the metaphysical that exist outside of what the scientific method can test and observe, while still acknowledging that material evidence and healthy skepticism should be prioritized when forming a belief system.
This is one of the many reasons why people in alterhuman communities emphasize their stance against p-shifters (those who believe they can physically become their kintypes / theriotypes / etc). Holding immaterial, unfalsifiable beliefs is often harmless, but the potential for serious harm arises when one starts to hold beliefs that wholly contradict observable reality.
This is not to condemn members of the community who consider themselves physically nonhuman, nor those who have clinical lycanthropy, or those whose identities stem from delusions, namely endels. In fact, these portions of the community are growing in recognition, and slowly but surely becoming more accepted in their declaration that even those who are delusional still hold the ability and the right to self determination. As with all things, there are no clear lines between a belief that is harmful and one that isn’t.
The condemnation of p-shifters largely centers on a pattern of behavior in that community, in which advocates of p-shifting use the idea to manipulate and control others. Even to the point of having cult-like groups that punish members who question them.
But again, there is a massive grey area where harm begins and ends, and even where the severity of the harm caused by a belief may be outweighed by the benefits that believing in something may bring to the individual. It’s not my job to determine where to draw that line for others, only for myself. If I think that someone is holding a harmful belief, what I can do is offer them kindness, and a place to find acceptance and warmth outside their belief system, should they come to doubt it.
The potential for harm is not the only factor that plays into determining whether or not I come to accept a metaphysical idea. The contributing factors are likely innumerable, especially because I cannot truly grasp how my own mind operates. However, there are some questions I prioritize when exploring an idea: “Is this useful to me? How does this impact my experience? Does understanding something in this way benefit me, comfort me, or unlock a new perspective I hadn’t considered?”
These questions played a massive role when coming to terms with my alien self. Believing I’m an alien doesn’t really impact my day to day life in a significant way. There’s no material evidence, of course, and it certainly does not change anything about the shared social world. What it does do is give me an answer - an effective consolidation of so many of the strange little thoughts and questions I’ve always had about myself. Being alienkind brings me a sense of comfort and solidity to my identity in a way that I’ve rarely experienced to this point. And it’s not just the epiphany of my extraterrestrial self - it’s the discovery of an entire community of others who, like me, have an identity that is not solely contained within the commonly understood experience of being human.
These are just some of the utilities that this belief serves me. And while there are times when it brings me distress; when I struggle with species dysphoria or the thought that I’m trapped in a body that doesn’t align with my internal sense of self - I do still maintain that it positively impacts my understanding of myself more than it causes distress. This certainly does not apply to everyone, and I’m not here to say that an alterhuman identity must necessarily benefit the person who holds it. What I am saying is that the pros outweigh the cons for me, and that played a significant role in coming to terms with this identity, and deciding to use the label that comes with it.
Part 3: The Metaphysical
If you told me 5 years ago that in a few years I would proudly be calling myself an alien, I definitely wouldn’t believe you. But like I said, a lot can change in 5 years. I even believe in souls now, too. Wait... Do I believe in souls? What is a soul, exactly?
Here we go again...
One of the first google results for ‘what is a soul?’ is an excerpt from the wikipedia page on souls, “In many religious, philosophical, and mythological traditions, the soul is the incorporeal essence of a living being. Soul or psyche comprises the mental abilities of a living being: reason, character, feeling, consciousness, qualia, memory, perception, thinking, etc.”
Well there you have it right? A soul is... all that stuff, I guess. But we all know that’s not all there is to it. Those who don’t believe in souls would argue that many of the traits described above - reason, emotions, etc - can be assigned to the function of our brains. Those who do believe in souls would argue that there’s far more to what makes a soul than the traits that can be easily defined. There’s a utility to the concept of the soul that is not fulfilled by our brains, such as reincarnation. The existence of a soul allows for our consciousness to exist in some way that is not tied to our physical forms. If the synapses firing between our neurons are the only thing that constitute our consciousness, then we cease to exist after our bodies die... Or do we? Are we our consciousness? What even is a consciousness?
As usual, questions beget more questions. And unfortunately, I’m not here to give any satisfying answers to these questions. Philosophers and scientists alike have endlessly debated the meaning and source of consciousness, with ideas ranging that its unique to the human mind, or to animals, or perhaps all living creatures are conscious, or even that any and all complex systems are conscious, down to the very building blocks of the universe.
However, when something dies, especially a human or animal, we recognize that its consciousness has left it, leaving only the physical body behind. I can recall vividly the only time I’ve witnessed a creature die in person. There was a small bird in the road that had been struck by a car. I rescued it from the road and took it underneath a tree on the other side, underneath a nest. I would have called an animal rescue - but they would only put it down anyway, and it was already very close to death. I gently folded its broken wing to a more comfortable position and rested the dying bird in a nest of soft grass I created to minimize its suffering. I watched as its labored breaths slowed down, and eventually as it exhaled one last time - its life evaporating alongside it.
I knew intuitively that it had died, and that whatever one would call its consciousness was gone. Despite the fact that nearly all of the cells that made up its body were still alive, that bird - the sum of all those parts - was now dead. When you die, it won’t matter that your cells are still there, or that your physical body might still be intact, because we are more than the sum of our parts. Each individual cell and bacteria in our bodies can separately being called alive, it takes more than that to make our consciousness.
And that’s just on the physical side of things. What we call our self - our consciousness - is made of experiences. It’s shaped by the world(s) and people around us, by the society and culture we live in, by the things that happen to us. Experiences cannot be measured or quantified, and yet we know intuitively that they our essential to our very being.
So, to me, consciousness and souls are one and the same - at least on a functional level. In my view, they share essentially the same utility. If reincarnation exists, then once my consciousness exits this body, it will eventually find a new one. I would argue that this could potentially be true, in a sense, even if you do not believe in souls or reincarnation and that the consciousness ceases to exist after we die. If you only accept this strictly physical reality, you know that energy and matter cannot be destroyed, it will only ever take new form. So the energy that lit up the neurons in my brain will always exist somewhere out there in the universe, as will the matter that made up my body. In quantum physics, the no-hiding theorem means that information cannot be destroyed as well, meaning that in some way, your existence is written in the universe somewhere. Not to mention the impact that you leave on others and the world around you, as that means you will continue to exist in some way in the minds of others.
This enters a whole new realm of philosophical questioning, on whether or not all those disconnected parts still constitute my self in some sense. And either way, it’s certainly not equivalent to the traditional idea of reincarnation - but that’s not really the point. The point is that, at the end of the day, the consciousness - and by extension the self - is not something that can be so easily defined as being strictly the result of processes of the physical body. It is made up of both material and nonmaterial things, and exists in the strange grey area between the shared social world and the other world(s) we subjectively experience.
Part 4: Origins
Yes, I’m finally getting back around to the titular topic - the origins of an alterhuman identity. The community largely recognizes two major categories of origin - psychological and spiritual. Examples of spiritual origins most commonly involve reincarnation or being spiritually connected to the type in some way. Psychological origins commonly involve the idea of ‘imprinting’ on a nonhuman creature or fictional character during childhood, or neurodivergence resulting in a nonhuman identity. There are far more explanations than I could possibly list here.
There is a lot of emphasis placed origin when discussing alterhuman experiences. Many labels are defined in some part by their origin, especially on whether or not the identity was conceived voluntarily or involuntarily. Many otherkin and therians take it for granted that they were their ‘type in a past life, to the point that those who believe their identity is psychological in origin often feel ignored and erased.
When I was questioning my alien identity, I did question where this identity might have come from. For a long time, I refused to call myself alienkind because I figured that the only reason I felt like an alien was because of my trauma, my gender dysphoria and body dysmorphia, and my feelings of isolation. And to an extent, that could still be true. It’s a reasonable enough explanation for why someone might feel like an alien.
But to me, this explanation wasn’t sufficient. Going back to what I discussed in part 2 of this essay, this belief wasn’t useful. It did not benefit me to believe that I only felt like an alien for “x, y, z” reasons, it only made me feel shameful. It made me feel embracing this identity would mean embracing something that stems from self loathing - which is why I avoided identifying as an alien for so long. That doesn’t mean this belief cannot be beneficial or helpful for others, psychological explanations work perfectly well for other people and I fully endorse that. But it didn’t work for me, because assigning the origin strictly to psychological explanations got in the way of me embracing something that brings wholeness to my identity.
So I explored the ideas of reincarnation, as I had many times before, and I once again I ran into the same problem. Sure, it could work just fine to say I was an alien in a past life and reincarnated to a human. But this came with its own issues, it didn’t explain why this identity is so impactful to my current life, why its so influential, why this body doesn’t feel right - even though it would be equally my body as the alien body would be. And again, this explanation works great for others, for them it serves that utility, but it didn’t work for me.
And just like that, I’m back to the drawing board. I eventually come up with my own idea for an origin, that ties into my identity as a story keeper. I won’t go into too much detail about it, but it can be summed up as the concept that using some alien sci-fi technology, my consciousness was beamed between dimensions to occupy the body of a human child, for the purposes of learning about humanity and the creatures of the Earth. For me, this checks all the boxes. It serves a utility and benefits me - it gives me a sense of purpose, it explains several aspects of my identity, it doesn’t harm me to believe this, and gives a sense of cohesion to my self as a whole.
The only problem now? I have no idea if I actually believe this. It’s so out there and honestly kind of whacky (and it goes without saying there’s no material evidence). Despite the fact that it fulfills all my needs as a belief, I can’t convince myself to believe in something for which there is neither material evidence nor personal experiences to back it up. I came up with this as a thought experiment, rather than following my experiences where they may lead me. Which is likely the reason why at least at this time, I have not incorporated this explanation into my ontology.
That doesn’t preclude the possibility that this explanation could be “true”, in the subjective sense. If, for example, I have an experience in which I see a vision of my alien self being put into some strange high tech mind chamber, then perhaps that experience would be enough to cause me to believe it. It would be enough for me to accept it as being an accurate part of my subjective reality.
And if I did accept this? If this explanation for the origin of my alien identity became apart of my belief system, what would that mean for me? Would that make the origin psychological or spiritual in nature? The idea of a consciousness being moved from one body to another (even via alien technology) is somewhat analogous to reincarnation. And because I believe the consciousness and soul are one in the same, is this then a spiritual belief? Or is it a psychological belief, because my consciousness was spawned from an alien mind that intermingled with a human mind? Or could it be psychological in the sense that the belief itself came from a psychological experience - a vision induced by a human brain?
Where does one draw the line between psychological and spiritual? Our psychology is shaped by experiences, which cannot be observed by the scientific method. You can’t measure, test, and repeat the sum of all the experiences that shape our mind. In a sense, psychology is metaphysical, because even though our brain is made up of meat and electricity, the subjective experiences of those brains cannot always be measured or explained in a material way.
This is the reason why I spent so much of this essay explaining my positions on reality and consciousness - because the distinction between psychological and spiritual origins only really exist insofar as it is useful and beneficial to us. We discuss and assign these labels to ourselves not because there exists some objective reality of alterhuman origin that we must measure ourselves by, but because they assist us in understanding ourselves. These labels become useless and even downright harmful the moment we start treating them as strictly defined categories in which we must all fit into.
This applies to pretty much all labels in the community. Simple explanations and definitions are often helpful! But because we are subjective beings whose minds exist in the grey area of reality, who are more than the sum of our parts, whose consciousness cannot be easily defined - we cannot operate as if we will ever neatly fit into those boxes.
Use words and labels when they work for you, believe things that serve a purpose for you, embrace your own, subjective world. When the categories are useful for you, put yourself in them, and reject them if they don’t. Learn to love the uncertainty of everything.
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23rd August 1305 saw the trial and execution in London of Sir William Wallace, one time Guardian of Scotland.
I posted yesterday stating the trial happened then, it came u in a source I was reading about Wallace, sometimes the historians can get it wrong, but the post yesterday served as more of prelude and a taster of todays more detailed one.
Wallace is said to have accepted his execution without resistance and a brave heart. He even made a final confession to a priest and read from the book of Psalms before his punishment.
Types of execution at The Elms ranged from burning at the stake (for heretics) to the tried and tested hanged-drawn-and-quartered method for those convicted of high treason. For those unfamiliar with this method, it involves being dragged by a horse to the place of execution, hanged until almost dead, then disembowelled whilst still conscious, beheaded, and finally being chopped into four pieces (i.e. ‘quartered) and subsequently having these pieces put on display across the city, or in Sir William Wallace’s case, the country.
I think it only right to give a background post about Sir William Wallace so hang on to your hats, there’ll be no mention of French Princess’s, Blue painted Australians or the like.
Much of what we know about Wallace comes from Blind Harry, also known as Harry, Hary or Henry the Minstrel, is renowned as the author of The Actes and Deidis of the Illustre and Vallyeant Campioun Schir William Wallace, more commonly known as The Wallace. The trouble is how reliable can Blind Harry’s account be, it was written over 150 years after Wallace's grisly demise, the stories about oor erstwhile hero would have been handed down through word of mouth, possibly even in song.
Harty claims that Wallace's father was named Malcolm, and on this basis Wallace has traditionally been identified as Sir Malcolm Wallace, a minor landowner from Renfrewshire. Sir Malcolm was a descendant of Richard Wallace, a native of the lordship of Oswestry on the Welsh border, (Wallace itself meaning Welshman), who first came to Scotland in the twelfth-century in the service of Walter Fitz Alan, first High Steward of Scotland. This Stewart connection has also been used by historians to explain Wallace's place in the 'patriotic' struggle of the 1290s.
But Harry’s story has some flaws, now I’m not decrying the story, just some details like his age.
No reliable evidence exists to gives us an estimate of his age. Harry claims that Wallace was 'forty and five [years] of age' when he was executed, but also states that he was 'bot eighteen yer auld' shortly before the Battle of Stirling Bridge, which would place the year of his birth around 1278/9.
It shows how difficult it is to build a picture of Sir William.
The contemporary English chronicler William Rishanger implies that Wallace was a young man when he emerged as the leader of armed resistance to the English in southern Scotland in 1297, but this does little to narrow things down. According to Hary, Wallace was raised by his two uncles - both clerics - who saw to his education after his father was killed by an English knight named Fenwick
One of his uncles was from Dunipace, a wee town not far from my home in Falkirk, it is through this uncle we get an oft quoted phrase “This is the truth I tell you: of all things freedom’s most fine. Never submit to live, my son, in the bonds of slavery entwined.” The second pic shows part of the quote, it is on a paving stone on Falkirk High Street that I often walk past.
He does seem to have had two brothers, Malcolm - who would provide Wallace with much-needed support in the later part of his career - and John - who would later be executed for supporting Robert Bruce after 1306. His activities before 1297 are also uncertain, but they may have been less than wholesome. Contemporary English accounts describe him as a 'brigand' and a 'thief', suggesting he may have lived outside the law even before the English invaded. Of course, these may simply be attempts by hostile writers to blacken his reputation. However, a legal document of August 1296 mentions 'a thief, one William le Waleys' as an accomplice of a cleric named Matthew of York who had in June of that year been convicted of robbery at Perth. This could well be our William.
Again I am not trying to blacken his character, I am merely pointing out the difficult job that historians have when piecing together his life.
Whatever the details of his early life, following the English invasion of 1296 that Wallace first emerged into the mainstream of Scottish affairs in a big way. The death of King Alexander III in 1286, followed by the death of his granddaughter Margaret of Norway in 1290, had provoked a major succession crisis in Scotland. Efforts to settle the ongoing dispute between the competing Balliol and Bruce factions had led to increasing English interference in the governance of Scotland, culminating in a full-scale invasion of the kingdom in 1296. I’ve covered all this in posts regarding King John Balliol, the sacking of Berwick and the first Battle of Dunbar all in 1296.
One of Wallace’s first encounters with the English is told in typically dramatic form by Blind Harry, the story goes that William was fishing when he is accosted by five soldiers in the service of 'lorde Persye' Henry Percy, 1st Baron Percy who was the warden of Galloway and Ayrshire . The honest, unsuspecting Wallace offers them some of his fish so long as they leave the rest for his uncle - 'ane agyt knycht' - Wallace hopes to feed, but the soldiers demand all of his fish and attack him when he refuses them. Remarkably, Wallace disarms the first attacker using only a 'poutstaff' ('fishing pole'), seizes the discarded sword, kills two of the soldiers, severs the hand of another, and chases the survivors off!
The earliest confirmed encounter between Wallace and the English administration occurred in May 1297, when Wallace and a small band of supporters killed William Heselrig, the English sheriff of Lanark, shortly before an assize was due to be held in the town. According to the indictment against him in 1305, Wallace and his men also dismembered Helelrig's corpse. Famously, Hary claims that Wallace's attack on Heselrig was in retribution for the killing of Wallace's wife - Marion Braidfute, as Harry identifies her.
It is apparent from contemporary English accounts of the incident at Lanark that it proved to be a powerful recruiting tool for Wallace's rebellion. As Walter Guisborough put it, 'the common folk of the land followed him as their leader and ruler; the retainers of the great lords adhered to him; and even though the lords themselves were present with the English king in body, at heart they were on the opposite side'.
What I find remarkable is that the killing of the soldiers and then Heselrig kickstarted, the uprising against Edwards army and around 4 months Wallace and Andrew de Moray had assembled a combined army of over 6 thousand troops that ambushed the English as they crossed the Forth at Stirling.
Before Stirling we also had the capitulation of the Nobility at Irvine, I have also covered this in a previous post.
In the wake of the Scottish victory at Stirling Bridge, the English administration in Scotland all but collapsed. The Scots were once again able to form a government of their own, and at its head - now as Guardians of Scotland - were Wallace and Murray, although Murray's tenure was cut short when he died - probably of wounds sustained at Stirling Bridge - in November.
This was the zenith of Wallace's career. He had emerged from obscurity to the very summit of Scottish society, all in the space of a year. It also meant he had a price on his head and was the most wanted man in Scotland.
Edward I returned from the Continent in March 1298 and set his sights on Scotland, he marched with an army North in late June and quickly discovered that Wallace's response to the threat had been to devastate southern Scotland and withdraw with his army out of reach of the English. A bitter and frustrating campaign followed, with Edward almost abandoning the chase altogether. However, in late July Edward got wind that the Scots had been sighted near Falkirk, and hurriedly moved his army to meet them.
Precisely why the confrontation at Falkirk happened is, as with so much of Wallace's career, uncertain. Until this point in the campaign Wallace had carefully avoided the English army, a prudent strategy that would later pay off for the Scots under Bruce. Guisborough claims that Wallace had learned that Edward planned to withdraw and hoped to attack the English in the rear. This would at least explain why Wallace so suddenly abandoned his previously cautious strategy. However, given the potential challenges he was facing from the nobility of Scotland it may equally have been the case that Wallace felt compelled to face the English in open battle sooner or later and prove that his success at Stirling Bridge - which was after all arguably at least as much Murray's as it was Wallace's - was not just a lucky accident.
Whatever the case, the battle that followed was an utter catastrophe for the guardian. Abandoned by the cavalry, who may have lost their nerve as they had at Irvine or - as claimed by subsequent Scottish chroniclers - betrayed Wallace, Wallace's schiltrons - tightly-packed bodies of infantry armed with long spearmen - repelled the English cavalry but fell prey to English archery, which broke up their formations and left them vulnerable to a renewed assault by the cavalry. Wallace escaped the battle with his life, but his position as guardian had been irrevocably damaged. It is not entirely clear precisely when or where he resigned the guardianship, but by the end of 1298 Robert Bruce, earl of Carrick (the future king), and John Comyn, lord of Badenoch, were jointly exercising the office of guardian.
Wallace's time as guardian may have been decisively ended, but he remained an active opponent of the English in Scotland. The resistance he offered to the English in this period was not always in keeping with the wishes of the guardians. For instance, in August 1299 an altercation took place at a council at Peebles at which Wallace's plan to travel to France was condemned by Sir David Graham as being 'without the leave or approval of the Guardians'. Wallace's plans were defended by his brother Malcolm, who argued that they were at least 'for the good of the kingdom'
Wallace did indeed leave for France in 1299, apparently on a diplomatic mission to seek the support of King Philip IV against Edward I. Wallace's reception in France was initially hostile, since at the time Philip was himself seeking peaceful relations with Edward I, and Wallace was briefly incarcerated by the French king. However, in November 1300 Philip was writing to his envoys to the pope asking them to promote Wallace's case at the papal court. It is possible that Wallace himself visited to Rome assist in making the Scottish case to the pope in person, and the fact that when he was eventually he reportedly had on his person a safe-conduct from King Hakon V of Norway may suggest he also travelled to Norway on diplomatic business (although he may simply have planned to do so at some point). By 1303 - possibly earlier - he was back in Scotland and again involved in armed resistance to the English
By this point the tide in the war was slowly turning against the Scots. The French were once again pursuing a peaceful policy towards the English following their own military reversal at Courtrai in 1302. Scottish nobles were gradually making their peace with the English, and the surrender of Stirling Castle marked the effective end to organised Scottish resistance on a large scale. In light of his increasing success, Edward I was generally willing to be fairly accommodating towards those Scots who were willing to submit to him, but this was not so with Wallace. Indeed, in the general amnesty offered to the Scots by the English, Wallace might at best 'render himself up to the will and mercy of our sovereign lord the king, if it shall seem good to him' - hardly an encouraging prospect. When Wallace's long-standing cohort Simon Fraser submitted to Edward in July 1304, he was welcomed into the king's peace only on the understanding that he would assist in the ever-intensifying hunt for the fugitive Wallace. Nevertheless, Wallace remained at large until 3rd August 1305, when he was seized near Glasgow by men in the service of Sir John Menteith, keeper of Dumbarton Castle on behalf of King Edward. Menteith - identified as Wallace's 'gossop' ('godfather') by Harry.
Having finally captured Wallace, Edward I refused even to see him. Instead, Wallace was taken to London for what for want of a better word might be called a trial.
Sir Peter Malory, one of the king's justices, presided over the proceedings, which were little more than a formality. The charges were considerable. Wallace had, according his accusers, been a traitor to King Edward, perpetrated armed resistance against him and slain the king's officers (William Heselrig was mentioned by name), assumed the authority of 'a superior' of Scotland, submitted 'to the fealty and lordship of the lord king of France and [gave] him help to the destruction of the kingdom of England', made war on the northern counties of England, 'feloniously and seditiously assaulted, burned and devastated religious men and nuns...[and] inflicted [upon] all, old and young, wives and widows, children and babes the worst death which he could devise', and 'harmoniously and eagerly...refused to submit himself to the lord king's peace' even after being defeated at Falkirk. According to the Annals of London, he 'answered that he had never been a traitor to the king of England, but granted the other crimes charged against him'.
In the eyes of the English as an outlaw, Wallace had no recourse to a defence. Instead, he was summarily sentenced to be executed in the manner reserved for traitors. Wallace was thus 'dispolyeid of his weid' as Hary puts it and dragged naked on a hurdle through the streets of London. At Smithfield he was hanged by the neck 'for the robberies, homicides and felonies which he carried out in the kingdom of England and the land of Scotland'
Before he could suffocate he was taken down and emasculated and disembowelled 'for the dreadful wickedness which he did to the church'. His 'heart, liver and lungs and all the bowels...from which such perverse thoughts proceeded' were then burned. Presumably now dead, Wallace was beheaded - the punishment for outlawry - and his body was divided into four parts. His head was to be displayed on London Bridge (where it remained until at least September the following year, when it was joined by that of his former comrade Simon Fraser). The remaining quarters were to be displayed on gibbets at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, Berwick-upon-Tweed, Stirling and Perth, 'to put dread in and to warn all by-passers and observers'.
The savagery with which Wallace was dispatched contrasts sharply with Edward I's attitude toward the Scots in general, but let’s not forget it was the usual punishment for any person deemed to be a traitor.
However it appeared that Longshanks earlier experiences with the Scots had convinced the ageing English king that a more conciliatory approach to establishing a lasting English administration in the kingdom. Edward's new plan for the settlement of Scotland envisaged a ruling council composed primarily of Scots - including the likes of Bruce and Comyn - which would advise an English lieutenant who would retain overall authority. Scots law and custom was to be respected, at least in the short term, and it may have seemed to many at the time that the objections that had fuelled Wallace's original rebellion in 1297 had been addressed.
As we know, the matter would be rendered moot less than six months after Wallace's death when Robert Bruce killed Comyn, forcing him to make public his ambition to become King of Scots. In many senses Bruce's struggle was quite unlike Wallace's, being primarily motivated by his own ambitions and perception of his rights. That being said, if Wallace had not maintained the momentum behind Scottish resistance to the English, particularly in the crucial year of 1297, then Bruce may never have had his opportunity to make his successful bid for power.
Pics are statues of Sir William Wallace around Scotland in order, Bemersyde near Dryburgh, Aberdeen, opposite His Majesty's Theatre, Edinburgh Castle, Newmarket Street Ayr, St Nicholas Church, Lanark, Stirling Town Centre, The National Wallace Monument Abbey Craig, Stirling, showing it before and after it’s recent restoration, Scottish National Portrait Gallery, Edinburgh and his memorial at Smithfield, London. There are others around the world that remember the Scots Patriot who so bravely stood up to fight for his country.
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