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#really it's bender
blluespirit · 3 months
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there are so many amazing and powerful benders in atla but what i love about zuko is that whether or not he can use his bending in that moment has zero (0) bearing on how much he’s going to absolutely kick your ass. no bending? that’s fine - he’s got swords. no swords or bending? that’s fine - he’s literally just going to beat you up. if you’re REALLY unlucky then you get all three. as a treat.
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fossilizedhysterics · 1 month
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guess who finished tlok tonight and immediately had this come to him in a vision!!!!
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happyheidi · 1 year
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Eat… my… shorts.
via totallyawesome80s
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sabellart · 2 years
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really my only reasoning for shaak to be a water bender is so she can play with the little baby clones on kamino
forcebender au
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smallmario · 10 days
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human bowser???
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s0fter-sin · 1 month
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it’s the sound that tips him off.
it’s late, half-past hell by his last count, and mactavish knows there shouldn’t be a single soul in the showers this time of night. though he’s sure if he asked, he’d be told a soul isn’t in there.
just a ghost.
he almost chokes on the thick steam filling the locker room; humid and hazy and the perfect cover. or it would be, if the man collapsed in the far stall cared about hiding.
mactavish hates himself a little for the low sigh that falls from his lips. he wishes he wasn't so disappointed; that the promises he's heard over and over and watched be broken as many times hadn't wedged their way into his heart and convinced him that maybe, maybe this could be the time it sticks.
he doesn't know what's worse; the disappointment or the lack of surprise.
he holds his breath through the steam and leans over the limp body; stinging hot water hitting his back, instantly soaking through his clothes and already starting to burn. he flicks the tap enough to take the bulk of the heat out and straightens; a groan startling out of the man beneath him at the sudden lash of tepid water.
mactavish crouches, knees clicking and hooks a hand under his bicep to pull him up straight against the wall. if there was any vomit on his skin, it's been washed away by the pelting stream and he supposes he can count himself lucky for that. he tilts his limp head back and slips his fingers into his mouth; holding down his tongue and ignores the way it lazily jolts under his fingers to check his airway.
clear.
another small victory.
mactavish pulls his fingers out and cups his chin, keeping him tilted up and moves in the way of the water again so he can pull at his eyelid.
the eye he's met with is cloudy, so dilated there's hardly a ring of blue left.
he sighs again; hand falling away and letting his eye fall shut. "god damnit, riley."
riley moans, all his weight resting on the hand holding his jaw.
"aye, 'm talking ‘bout you," he grunts tiredly.
he lets riley's head fall forward to grab his arm, pulling him away from the wall to sit behind him; propping his body up against his chest. he leans his head back over his shoulder, keeping his face out of the water and his airway open just in case he hasn't actually finished throwing up.
he takes the rag riley'd half-managed to soap up and mechanically runs it over him; cataloguing new bruises and cuts and checking if the old ones are healing. sickly yellow fingerprints ring his hips, red splotches paint his ribs; too new to have settled into the deep purple he knows they’ll become.
riley slowly makes more noise as he rubs life into his body; still lying limp against his front but his head's starting to roll restlessly on his shoulder. he swipes between his legs and carefully doesn't think a single thing about what he finds.
"sean?" he rasps and mactavish's hand stills; eyes falling shut. he bites his check, hand clenching around the rag tight enough to shake and breathes hard out his nose.
he doesn't say a word, just forces himself to go back to cleaning.
he's not sure what would come out of his mouth if he did.
riley isn't conscious enough to hear him anyway.
he runs his fingers over his inner elbows for tracks and manages to muster some relief when he doesn't find any. seems to be a pill and booze night; far from the worst condition he's found him in.
he rinses him off, running a curtesy hand over his shaved head only for it to fall back to his jaw; his thumb stroking over the thick scar carved into his cheek.
"you gotta stop doin' this," he whispers.
he isn’t sure if he’s talking to riley or himself.
mactavish gathers up riley's too-light body into his arms and turns off the shower. his head lolls into his throat and he throws a towel over his dripping body and another over his shoulder. it doesn't stop him from tracking water all the way to his quarters but he'd like to see someone try to put in a complaint about it.
he lays out the other towel on the bed and sets riley down; moving his body into the recovery position in an all-too familiar routine. he dries him enough that he won't soak the covers as he pulls them up to his chest and kicks the waste bin within grabbing distance of the bed.
he goes to pull off his sodden clothes when a different noise makes him freeze.
a low sniffle.
mactavish slowly turns back to the bed to find riley's eyes squinting open; glazed with tears as he kneads at the covers.
he stares at him for a moment as he looks around the room and those hazy eyes lock on him for the first time. "cap'n?"
he swallows. "aye; s'just me, riley."
his hand pokes out from under the covers and for all the promises he's made himself - all the “never again”s and “this is the last time”s - at the end of the day, he's weak.
he sits on the side of the bed and takes riley's hand in his; already so cold after nearly boiling himself alive.
"y' mad a' me?" he sniffs.
mactavish runs his tongue over his lip and slowly shakes his head. "no, i'm not mad at you."
"prom'se?" he pushes.
he reaches out and caresses his temple with his thumb. his hand almost covers his head and it cuts like a knife to remember just how small riley is. "aye," he says, hushed. "i promise."
riley's eyes fall shut, voicelessly murmuring 'promise’ to himself over and over.
"I’ll ge’ bett'r," he slurs and between one breath and the next, he's out.
mactavish sighs, running his hand in a final pass over his head and stares at a face that looks so much younger in sleep; bruised and sallow skin hidden in the shadows. "i know you will."
he presses a slow kiss to his forehead, shutting his eyes against the grief that wells in his heart and gets up to pull a chair over to the bed; settling in for another long night's vigil of watching his broken lieutenant sleep, ready to tilt him over if he throws up, eyes locked on the slow rise and fall of his chest fearing tonight may finally be the time it stops.
#drug use#tw drugs#guess whos back on her 09 shit#its me bb!!!#anyway 09 ghost who’s just completely messy#if he’s not on an op then he’s at clubs drinking & taking anything he can get his hands on#mactavish knows what he gets up to and hates it#hates watching him destroy himself stumbling back to base with no memory of what - or who - he’s done#hates seeing him prod at bruises knowing he has no idea where they came from#mactavish is more pissed that whoever riley was with just left him like that and that riley is totally fine with it happening#more than once he's found him almost od'ing half passed out in his room or the showers#and every time riley will slur out apologies and promises mactavish knows better to believe#riley knows how much it hurts mactavish to see him like this but its just so painful to live in his head#he can’t help but try and get out of it the only way he knows how#this is pre relationship btw just to make it all hurt a little more#ghost never remembers how he ends up back in his own bed after a bender#the whole point of them is to forget#he’ll end up missing days at a time and never question what happened to him in the meantime#if he thinks hard enough sometimes he can pick up flashes of a familiar voice rasping in his ear and big hands moving his body#but it’s hard for him to believe they’re anymore than drug induced hallucinations of what he really wants#coming out of my cage and ive been doing just fine.txt#talk to me ghost#we’re a team. ghost team#09 soapghost#09 ghoap#soapghost#john soap mactavish#soap cod#simon ghost riley#ghost cod
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selenedistress · 4 months
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Two years ago I fell into the very narrow rabbit hole of gender bender webnovels on Scribblehub. Specifically, the very niche subgenre that is basically trans wish-fulfillment is disguise. Stories that use gender bending as a device to tell stories about trans people (mostly trans-femmes) for trans people. Or, to put it more simply, hatching-of-egg stories.
It was a good time. Certainly more fun and cathartic than the awkward phase of looking at infuriatingly bad gender bending manga, having gender feelings that you haven’t quite untangled yet. Completely hypothetical example that, nothing personal here haha.
Anyways, in that time, I found a bunch of good stories for anyone who might be interested. Also, all of these have transfemme protagonists, even if they don’t know that at the beginning. Here we go! I'll start with:
We’re Not So Different, You And I by Elamimax: Three friends find themselves transported in a strange world that blends cyberpunk dystopia with fantasy. Separated, the story is about them trying to find each other again, all the while going through a lot of changes and learning things about themselves. It’s a non-linear story that is in my opinion masterfully told. The prose is evocative and fun and even affecting. The characters go through a lot, and even though I’d say it is light on suspense, it goes heavy with emotions and the way the characters deal with their situation. The non-linear pacing does a great job at delivering a story full of pathos and catharsis. Plus, the world it creates has is concrete enough that I know what it's about, while also being vague enough with details that it can be developed further in a different story if that ever happens. Can’t recommend it more if I could.
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riddled-fingers · 3 months
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benderisms
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suppenzeit · 2 months
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I raise my white sail, forever so lonely,
against vessels of steel
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an argument with my friend yesterday made me want to give a little reminder. i mentioned that there were no white-based people in avatar, he disagreed, and listed the characters with paler skin as his ‘proof’. i lectured him and now he knows better but still;
people with pale skin aren’t always white, none of the characters in avatar are based off of the white race. Aang isn’t white, neither is Zuko, or Mai, or Ty lee, or azula, or anyone in the franchise. of course, the Inuit based characters are definitely not white either, but what bothered me was the subtle prejudice that made my friend think pale skin=white.
i know this fandom has issues with racism, and it’s been addressed, but this interaction really reminded me of how small misconceptions can make a jarring difference, so I’ll say it again.
none of the characters in avatar are based on white people.
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hella1975 · 2 days
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INDOMITABLE HUMAN SPIRIT <- DID ALL MY EXAMS
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m0thxy · 24 days
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*youtube video of me exploring an abanonded building*
ALRIGHT GAMERS! this is the place in the dark where the animals go they sometimes take off their skin in the cannibal glow
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sunspira · 4 months
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the number one most interesting analysis anyone ever made about the legend of korra is that the benders in republic city were clearly an oppressed and exploited population. NOT the non-benders. and therefore the equalists are nothing more than essentially a nazi party or kkk or other hate group that likes to masquerade itself as the victims to a scapegoat minority that is somehow a danger to normal people in order to oppress and eradicate them.
the most compelling evidence that benders actually represent and function as marginalized people is that they occupy characteristic marginalized roles in society. organized crime, factory laborers, pro-sports, music and film entertainment. (ESPECIALLY the more physically taxing high impact sports such as boxing and football!! the fighting ring nature of pro-bending absolutely reflects this. this is no golf tournament). with those roles that offer any hope of upward mobility being limited to only a few and as inherently exploited by producers as it is. or otherwise abject poverty in city slums.
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non benders such as Mr. Sato own large successful corporations. benders do labor for him. benders do cheap manual labor for low pay in the early 20th century steampunk metaphor city and live in slums. while the ruling class non-bender turned out to be a raging bigot funding the equalist "movement"
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so when korra yells at the equalist cunt doing a little infowars rant in the park and tells him to "shut up" and "im not oppressing you!! you're oppressing yourself" and everyone got mad at her for on tumblr being a bigot you were all wrong she was out there tearing down the zionist missing person propoganda posters before i even knew what the IDF stood for she was the fucking legend forever
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AND she said acab !!!
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clingyduoapologist · 7 months
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kickin my feet hey what kind of a bender do u think ctommy would be? cbench?
c!Tommy literally a fire bender and anyone who says otherwise is incorrect. It’s the element of life and passion fueled by the fire of your emotions like it’s so c!tommy. c!Tubbo is earth I think, maybe with a metal bending speciality. He’d love those bendable grappling hooks from Korra I think. c!ranboo idk but it would be very funny if he was a water bender.
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imogenkol · 2 months
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— OCS AS CHARACTER TROPES
tagged by the lovely @corvosattano to do this uquiz! Thank you 💕
tag list (ask to be added or removed!): @adelaidedrubman @florbelles @marivenah @simonxriley @shegetsburned @voidika @kyber-infinitygems @inafieldofdaisies @socially-awkward-skeleton @aceghosts @carlosoliveiraa @risingsh0t @unholymilf @thedeadthree @cassietrn @jackiesarch @gwynbleidd @shellibisshe @loriane-elmuerto @katsigian @captastra @simplegenius042 @theelderhazelnut @g0dspeeed
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THE DISQUALIFIED
the disqualified [noun, origin unknown] refers to a character who's became too numb to the concept of the world, to the point of deeming oneself not able to express any sort of emotion, whether positive or a negative one. this state is usually the one to follow after feeling too much, as if to balance out the overwhelming sensation of human emotion. living up to their title, they often consider themselves 'disqualified' from being a human, forsaken and unloved, abandoned by the world they've never had interest in. they don't know where they belong or where should they go - every second of breathing air is a waste of oxygen someone worthier could use. the disqualified symbolize the constant state of feeling nothing but tiredness, state where all is merciless but the end. this is the one and only test outcome where i as the writer shall personally interfere - please, my most beloved disqualified, keep longing to feel again. there's so much you've never felt and so much you'll desire to feel again. in the words of Osamu Dazai (who's the creator of the title 'the disqualified' I so happily stole) - "Everything passes." a statement as short as it is true - everything passes, even the numbness. after it, you'll experience so much more beauty of the world - beauty that might pass just as the numbness did, but in it's temporary and unique nature lies the reason why it's to be cherished. so, please, try to hold on a bit. sometimes, holding on is the best we can do and most of the times, it's just enough. - a (former) fellow disqualified
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THE ICARUS
[noun, greek origin] refers to a character, first curious and childish, who got so bored of the world's rotten nature they lost all hope in living. as the last resort to find the spark in the world of dying stars, the icarus may have attempted numerous times to touch the blazing surface of the sun, hoping to see any kind of redemption in the reflection of their face in the sun's flames. as a result, their wings were melted down and their bones broken by the harsh landing, yet that still didn't stop them from trying all over again. the people of icarus' nature often believe their place is with the stars and their desire to burn amongst them causes them to forget the beauty of the land they've abandoned, merely flying over it - the world has stored so much beauty for them they often struggle to see through the rays of sun and yet, it is still there. the most beautiful of flowers grow upon the lands their feet haven't even touched and maybe, just maybe, if they spared a bit of their time to give the (them forsaken) world another chance, they'd see that sky might not be the home they truly desire, but one they ve seeked just because they have seen only the worst of the world. - a fellow icarus
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THE FALSE MUSE
the false muse [noun, latin origin] refers to a character that attempts to be perfect in order to receive certain amount of praise, or to inspire others to go in their footsteps. they tend to seek the spotlight, the podium, the gaze of the people looking up to them, with praise and validation being what keeps them pursuing the way of living they did before. the false muses surely have their goals, but the biggest one is to simply be better than yesterday and worse than tomorrow, to be in a constant state of self improvement they'll never deem enough. this is what leads them to the ocassional state of burnout, state one may describe as trying so hard to please the artist you become the opposite of a muse - hence why they're called false ones. the false muses might be tempted to think that they’ve never achieved perfection, but the truth is, there's no such thing as perfection, nor is there a way to achieve it. all muses could long for is merely the perfect version of themselves and they’ve achieved that already, over a thousand times.
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THE SAINT
the saint [noun, latin origin] refers to a character that has taken upon themselves the role of saint via listening to prayers, concerns and troubles of others. characters falling under this cathegory are obviously merely metaphorical saints, which is a quality many people struggle to realize. the saints are said to be helpful and caring under any circumstance, believing that making themselves useful increases their self worth in the eyes of people they care about. they often forget that they are indeed humans in roles of saints, that they still have human limitations and problems that can potentially pile up until they fall from the metaphorical heavens they occupy...yet mostly, this doesn't stop them from taking burdens from people and putting it on their own back in hopes of being more responsible in taking care of them. there's strange naivety in the good they do, slight hope that they can take everything and anything they try to fix and help out with. this naivety is often replaced with denial and regret as soon as one realizes that sometimes, it's impossible to pose as a saint. but that's just the tragic cycle of them - trying to help out, getting dragged from heavens by the burden they voluntarily stole, falling, laying on the ground wide-eyed and tired before climbing back into the clouds again. as of now, there's no cure to being one of the saints - it is up to them to realize that they are not responsible for anyone's happiness apart from their own and that it's not selfish to put them before others. it's natural and - as much as they want to stray away from it - human. - a fellow saint
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ermwhattheheck · 4 months
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my friend told me to draw this so here u go folks. also ignore the slight art style change idk why i did that.
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