the real problem with The Silmarillion is that the creative sandbox is SO big, from the literal world map to the many-millennia timeline to the characters who are half historical figure constructed from 6 different half-contradictory drafts, half mythical archetype, and don’t even get me STARTED on the theological philosophy… that there is NO chance anyone else will remotely properly write the fic in your head. In other fandoms, I can be pretty sure that at least the people in the carefully chosen 12-person discord server I belong to all have the same fic in their heads that we jammed together at 2am, with the same interpretations of character and theme which we’ve debated and discussed at length. But The Silmarillion? You can spend 3 hours discussing a single character in like a 5-year period and walk away completely happy with shared headcanons BUT SIMULTANEOUSLY certain that their interpretation of the character is fundamentally different than yours, such that any fic they write would suffer from notable if not severe “he would not fucking say that” disorder…and that both your and their interpretations are completely reasonable reads of the text, so you can’t even be mad.
So you HAVE to write ALL your own fic or it’s AGONIZING.
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yeah sorry your boyfriend got hit so hard by the tragedy in a media he loved that it knocked the taste for tragedies right out of him. yeah no sorry I know he was planning on making some fucked up sad stories and it was gonna be dope as Hell and hurt so good but he's a soft-hearted sentimental author now. yeah no he's rewriting destiny as we speak to create joy in defiance of the horrors. yeah, he's decided that he will create hope as realism instead of sorrow and bring his characters through the fire born anew and though they will be different, they will be okay. yeah, his characters and the reader are going to feel whole after all the bullshit and it's gonna feel earned. yeah, his works are gonna still have the sad parts and the hard parts but there will be healing in equal measure and everything, or at the very least most things, will be okay.
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i have copied this comment without name because i think it is very kind and respectful and i do not want buckaroos interpreting it the wrong way. PLEASE UNDERSTAND this buckaroo is very sincere and has important points and please respect their way. i am going to answer in a way that is counter to their point and i do not want buds to go after them IN ANY WAY. THEY ARE PROVING LOVE AND THEY HAVE GOOD POINTS
okay here is what i have to say:
i have not transitioned and in this lifetime i do not expect to. i think you have a good point of 'how can you know?' and honestly i cannot know that is just how timelines and reality and perception work
HOWEVER i must caution against this train of thought slightly because what works for one buckaroos MAY NOT WORK for another. every time i talk about my non-dysphoric way there are plenty of well meaning buds, particularly fellow trans buds, who show up with posts in the tone of 'its only matter of time.' like i just do not understand yet.
this reminds me of bisexual buckaroos who are told 'you just do not know you are gay yet'. as difficult as it is to step out of our own dang minds, i implore buckaroos to accept that there VERY JOYFUL AND FULFILLED NON-DYSPHORIC TRANS BUCKAROOS who do not need to transition and never will and are healthy and happy without that. just like there are bisexual buckaroos who are not just on their way to being gay
a good way to look at it is like this: I LOVE MY MALE BODY. i think i am a very handsome buckaroo. i have masculine features in my muscle and height and frame. as far as how fate could have placed me on this timeline I WON MY OWN PERSONAL FOOTRACE. i am up on the podium and i am standing here with a medal around my neck. GOOD JOB CHUCK
HOWEVER when i look down i see that medal is silver. i am not going to lie and say it is gold. it is silver.
YES my gold medal is a female body. that is an objective truth to my trot. i believe my gender way is that of a women, but there is no part of me that is upset about where i have placed.
I GOT SILVER. i am not upset. there is no tragedy. in fact i am OVERWHLEMED WITH JOY not just to be on the podium but to be in this race in the first place. HECK YEAH I DID IT AND I GOT A MEDAL
of course this is not to dismiss the difficult journey of others. many do not feel the way i do and their trot is VALID. a dysphoric way matters and is important and these voices are important. they should be elevated and supported. i understand some do not share this podium imagery, and they feel PAINED by trappings of their body.
i feel so much for this. i understand and care for my dysphoric buds, but the simple truth is that is not my story. i cant just lie and say that it is.
it will never be my story. i cannot say this enough: i love my body. however i STILL believe my truest way is that of a ladybuck. if it was a simple button push to change me, then i would push it without hesitation.
but it is not a simple button push.
talk to almost any buckaroo who has transitioned and they will say 'transitioning is hard'. it takes time and work and money and emotional support. i am in awe of the bravery of buckaroos who trot this path, but all of that is not worth it for something that i already feel good about. SCRATCH THAT, i feel GREAT ABOUT. i feel overwhelmed with joy every day over just existing in this male body that i have been blessed with. YES buckaroo, i feel joy existing in a male body that i know is ladybuck on the inside. it feels interesting a cool and exciting.
but my truest way is STILL a ladybuck trot
i guess i am just trying to say that i love second place. im happy to celebrate it. i think my male body is really dang cool. it is not a 'perfect me' but it is really dang awesome, and i never really bothered with trying to be perfect
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Pop culture reduces It's a Wonderful Life to that last half hour, and thinks the whole thing is about this guy traveling to an alternate universe where he doesn't exist and a little girl saying, "Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings." A hokey, sugary fantasy. A light and fluffy story fit for Hallmark movies.
But this reading completely glosses over the fact that George Bailey is actively suicidal. He's not just standing there moping about, "My friends don't like me," like some characters do in shows that try to adapt this conceit to other settings. George's life has been destroyed. He's bankrupt and facing prison. The lifetime of struggle we've been watching for the last two hours has accomplished nothing but this crushing defeat, and he honestly believes that the best thing he can do is kill himself because he's worth more dead than alive. He would have thrown himself from a bridge had an actual angel from heaven not intervened at the last possible moment.
That's dark. The banker villain that pop culture reduces to a cartoon purposely drove a man to the brink of suicide, which only a miracle pulled him back from. And then George Bailey goes even deeper into despair. He not only believes that his future's not worth living, but that his past wasn't worth living. He thinks that every suffering he endured, every piece of good that he tried to do was not only pointless, but actively harmful, and he and the world would be better off if he had never existed at all.
This is the context that leads to the famed alternate universe of a million pastiches, and it's absolutely vital to understanding the world that George finds. It's there to specifically show him that his despondent views about his effect on the universe are wrong. His bum ear kept him from serving his country in the war--but the act that gave him that injury was what allowed his brother to grow up to become a war hero. His fight against Potter's domination of the town felt like useless tiny battles in a war that could never be won--but it turns out that even the act of fighting was enough to save the town from falling into hopeless slavery. He thought that if it weren't for him, his wife would have married Sam Wainwright and had a life of ease and luxury as a millionaire's wife, instead of suffering a painful life of penny-pinching with him. Finding out that she'd have been a spinster isn't, "Ha ha, she'd have been pathetic without you." It's showing him that she never loved Wainwright enough to marry him, and that George's existence didn't stop her from having a happier life, but saved her from having a sadder one. Everywhere he turns, he finds out that his existence wasn't a mistake, that his struggles and sufferings did accomplish something, that his painful existence wasn't a tragedy but a gift to the people around him.
Only when he realizes this does he get to come back home in wild joy over the gift of his existence. The scenes of hope and joy and love only exist because of the two hours of struggle and despair that came before. Even Zuzu's saccharine line about bells and angel wings exists, not as a sugary proverb, but as a climax to Clarence's story--showing that even George's despair had good effect, and that his newfound thankfulness for life causes not only earthly, but heavenly joy.
If this movie has light and hope, it's not because it exists in some fantasy world where everything is sunshine and rainbows, but because it fights tooth and nail to scrape every bit of hope it can from our all too dark and painful world. The light here exists, not because it ignores the dark, but because the dark makes light more precious and meaningful. The light exists in defiance of the dark, the hope in defiance of despair, and there is nothing saccharine about that. It's just about as realistic as it gets.
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So I finally could look at the actual panels of chapter 261 (still lying on my own pool of tears don't mind me).
Yuta holding all of this on his shoulders just crushed my soul even more, even if I knew what was going to happen, seeing it was clearly something else.
A couple things on my mind:
1) YUTA'S BODY
I FEEL SO SICK HE LOST AN ARM SO HE IS APOLOGIZING TO RIKA BECAUSE ENGAGEMENT RING ARE TRADITIONALLY ON LEFT HAND AND NOT ON RIGHT HAND
OH GEGE, IF I CATCH YOU GEGE 😰
Also seeing the sorry state of Yuta's body, can he ever get back into it??? Like I imagine he can take it back if he uses Kenjaku techniques on himself (and it's a one time activation) but would the body be in a good enough state to be used............. I feel like Yuta is either doomed to die if Kenjaku is not a one time activation, or to be trapped in Gojo's body (or another dead body which is not his.) In any case it's going to be horrible and I am already suffering, Yuta clearly didn't deserve such a gruesome fate...
2) THE GRUESOME ROOM
I was wondering wtf this room was at first, it took me some time (and the English translation because the French one was weird) to understand it was the room where the higher ups are.
So............. Gojo's students were just standing behind the door while he was wiping them out to make sure they wouldn't try to come after them if he died like they did in Shibuya... I am so sick... (Also still surprised at how Gojo manages to trust Gakuganji so much after he killed Yaga...)
3) Gojo didn't want his body to be used
He didn't say yes. He didn't say no either.. He dismissed it saying it was impossible for him to lose (while he was on his way making sure that if he did they wouldn't get into trouble... So the possibility he lost really was in his mind at this moment.). Of course he would never say no, if it's the only way to save the world and his students how could he say no... but yeah, it fucks me up so much that he didn't agree to this. Like it makes the profanation even worse somehow... (This is not to blame Yuta at all, Yuta is the one suffering the most from all of this and has valid reasons too, it's just another layer of fucking tragedy.)
IN CONCLUSION
Any spark of joy has now left my body, I think I will take a SMAU break next week because I can't see myself doing fluff right now. I will just eat ice cream and watches the most heartwarming animes known to mankind (please send recs) to recover.
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