#this was just a stream of consciousness post i just needed to write my thoughts somewhere | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oflgtfol · 6 months

Text

The Human Cosmos is a book that has overall made me very conflicted. The first half or so was mainly just discussing the intersection of astronomy and human history, a really engaging mix of anthropology, religion, politics, history, and astronomy. But as the central thesis of the book began to uncover itself to me, the more conflicted I got.

In the final chapter of the book, Marchant herself clearly states what the thesis is: "This book has followed how, in the Western world at least, we have inexorably removed personal experience from our understanding of the universe." And I think that's an engaging idea of its own right, and in simple terms I do agree as well. There is absolutely something lost when we remove the tangible aspects of astronomy, the actual senses of our own bodies as we stargaze and navigate the world around us, and rely solely on instruments and data. But like, we still need those instruments and data to learn more beyond the limitations of our bodies. And Marchant does make sure to include that qualification, but she seems more like she's conceding rather than actually believing in both things being true. And so something about it just doesn't sit entirely right with me.

The final few chapters in particular she seems to bring up the idea of credulity vs. skepticism (which is so funny since the last book I read was Sagan's The Demon Haunted World which was basically entirely about credulity vs. skepticism, those exact words even), or sometimes phrased as subjectivity vs. objectivity. But she seems to give like, way too much faith in credulity/subjectivity? Something about the tone seems to act like skepticism and objectivity are like, boring, as it takes away the magic of navigating the cosmos through our minds and bodies; or that skepticism is like, mean, because actual scientists believe life exists on Mars but oh these skeptics keep coming up with alternate explanations (which is so. ??? to me. life on Mars is such a bold claim you need steadfast proof to hold up to scrutiny and skepticism, if your evidence can be explained through nonbiological means, then that's not skeptical scientists being mean or anything, it's just being rigorous and diligent?) And one chapter in particular just gave a lot of credence to certain ideas that could lead into actual pseudoscience, which also made me a bit uncomfortable; ie, the idea of the Moon being able to actually affect human beings in significant ways. This idea is one I don't have strong opinions about, as I believe ultimately it's a question for biology and not astronomy, since there are soooo many factors behind the Moon that could potentially cause biophysical effects (are we talking gravity, tides, 30-day cycles, phases, just brightness in general?), but the way Marchant was wording the proponents in Moon-affecting-humans vs. skeptics, just felt like it could veer very well into like, astrology, especially because at one point in a single sentence she said something about how if the Sun, Moon, and the Earth's magnetic field, all can affect life on Earth, then why not the stars (I'm paraphrasing). And whatever, yes, she absolutely is correct in citing all these scientific studies of those celestial bodies and phenomena very much actually affecting biorhythms in multiple species including human beings, but like, there is a huge difference between the things that are huge and visible in our sky and are actually located inside of our solar system, vs. pinpricks of light in the sky that are located trillions upon trillions upon trillions of miles away from us. And to her credit, she doesn't follow through on that line of thought beyond just that one single sentence, but it just dealt a heavy heavy blow of doubt to my ability to give her the benefit of doubt, and it became easier for me to disagree with her about everything else that wasn't sitting entirely right with me this whole time.

I know a part of me being baffled by this is how I just came from The Demon-Haunted world which took such a strong stand against credulity and which I had pretty much zero disagreements with at any point throughout the book (pretty much the entire experience was just staring at each page and shouting "yes! you get it!") so I am trying to keep an open mind and accept other viewpoints to this as well, but also I am just really stuck on the weird tone to these last few chapters.

And now, here in the final chapter, Marchant moves away from the credulity vs. skepticism concept again and moves back into the main thesis, the removal of personal experience from scientific missions. Which again, I agree with that, that there's something lost in doing so, but also again, something in her tone made me uncomfortable with fully agreeing with her, and it finally set off the alarm with this passage:

"Until a few years ago, scientists ignored [the] more human side of stargazing, preferring to leave such musings for artists and poets to explore. Now, though, they are fasting realizing that far from being merely aesthetic, direct contact with the cosmos can have profound, practical effects for our mental health, and how we choose to live."

It just does not sit right with me that she is presenting science as this cold, sterile, inhuman and unlively thing that we indulge in our quest for Cold Hard Knowledge, and how she presents it almost as the opposite of emotions and human connection! The idea of advances in technology having led to modern science, particularly astronomy, becoming estranged from the lived human experience due to the reliance on instruments, tools, and institutions to do research, rather than your own hands, eyes, and backyard - that is an intriguing idea, and one that I definitely agree with and love to ponder! It's something that I grappled with as well in my own life and my own path in astronomy, how I fell in love with a certain idea of astronomy which conflicted with my experience as a college student.

But god damn if astronomers don't also love the work they do? I find it kind of insulting to insist otherwise?! As if astronomers themselves aren't the ones hosting dark sky parties for lay people to look through their giant telescopes, because astronomers themselves know the human importance of seeing these celestial objects with your human eye? "Scientists ignored the more human side of stargazing" as if stargazing, in and of itself, no matter what side of it you look at, isn't intrinsically human? As if astronomers aren't the absolute nerds we are and constantly trying to get lay people to stargaze with us? As if astronomers aren't the people championing for an annual dark sky night despite the insistence of everyone else that oh we can't possibly shut our fucking lights off at night. Every time I get home from work after sunset, my mom asks me why it took so long for me to get to the front door after she heard the sound of my car door closing, and it's always because I had glanced up at the sky and gotten stuck there for five minutes just looking up at the stars. The last time I was outside at night with my parents with me I pointed out the Summer Triangle to them and was explaining the three star names and the constellations they're inside of.

Sorry I'm just utterly baffled at the idea of astronomers being uncaring over the loss of dark skies across the world, of astronomers just shrugging their shoulders and saying "ugh, whatever, we got other telescopes we can use instead, who cares" (in my experience, the only people who act like that are the "space nerds" on the internet who are not actually involved in the field in any official capacity). And I'm baffled at the idea of scientists not being utterly enamored with the night sky and the very subject we dedicate our lives to, that like what, with the modern development of advanced technology and instrumentation that also alienates us from the night sky, that also means we ourselves become increasingly sterile, cold, uncaring, boring, on a personal level? That there's some sort of fundamental contrast between science and humanity, as if science isn't an intrinsically human endeavor in and of itself?

Yes, there's something to be said about this alienation that comes about with the reliance on machines and institutions, rather than your own personal senses and experiences, and I personally believe (as well as like, any sane astronomer otherwise) that science, and astronomy in particular, needs to have a balance of both to hit the sweet spot (personal experience, to feel the true passion and heart behind why we do what we do, to really fall in love with what you study; instrumentation, to learn of the things that exist beyond our limited, human senses), but to try to pin the blame on the scientists themselves is just a bit mean-spirited, and well, honestly, bad faith to me, as well, considering the earlier credulity vs. skepticism and subjective vs. objective arguments brought up earlier in the book. Skepticism and objectivity is necessary in science and I really don't give a fuck what you think, and no, that does not make science cold, sterile, inhuman - that makes science science, and it's what helps us separate the truth from misconceptions, and giving any sort of lenience to credulity and subjectivity beyond just the idea of "emotions can and should go hand in hand with logic and reason, because the two are not mutually exclusive, because human beings contain multitudes" honestly also gives lenience to pseudoscientific ideas like astrology, or "UFOlogy" or whatever else. And in an increasingly anti-intellectual, anti-science world, I'm finding that I have less and less tolerance for this kind of indulgence, which is why I'm annoyed enough to be sitting here writing an entire essay about this lol

#brot posts #astro posting #anyway this isnt a bad book by any means just. urgh. disagreement yknow lol #but thats what makes nonfiction (especially this kind of nonfiction!) so fun to me !!!#its not just me reading fiction in the 'oo whats going to happen next' kind of way #like no - i need to be actively /thinking/ the entire time and so it's almost like a conversation with the author #where i can agree - sometimes emphatically (lol.) - or outright disagree #having a conversation at all is the fun of it #believe me i've been muttering to myself all week about this shit i just needed to actually write it down and sort out my thoughts #also hence why this post is written in proper sentences with actual capitalization and punctuation #when i dont type that way i feel like i just type in a stream of consciousness and so i cant organize my thoughts #when im just typing randomly yknow? if i want to structure my thoughts then i need to write with structure also #ANYWAY book is a solid 7/10 i'd say. annoyed by these nuances in her arguments but the anthropology/history/astronomy was epic #i love astronomy history and so reading such a deep dive of it was greatttt

1 note · View note

netherfeildren · 24 days

Text

How to Endure Ardor:

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Joel teaches you how to love him.

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: Post outbreak; QZ Joel Miller; I'm saying this, but the setting is sort of ambiguous anyways, Stream of consciousness, Character Study, Alternating POVs; PIV sex; The troubles and toils of breaking up and then making up with a fucked up old man; Uncaring Joel; Mentions of painful sex; Toxic relationships or situationships or whatever you want to call it; I think I'm addicted to the idea of a Joel who'll never love you and I should probably see a doctor about it

A/N: she remembers how to write, who'd of thought!

Word Count: 1.3K

Read on AO3

This is a lesson:

“Tell me again,” she says, and it’s a begging.

A begging like what? Something that carries shame and smallness in the shape of it. Stay a little longer. It humiliates him for the wretchedness it pulls from him. Joel, please. Seeping blood the color of her supplication. Please, she says, please. And who else says please to him anymore? Who asks him for anything anymore but her? The only ones who ever had are long past and gone, and he can’t even barely remember they were ever really there to ask anything of him to begin with—can’t remember what it feels like to owe someone something and want to give it to them in a way that will actually make him.

Tell me what again? That I want you? That I’ll stay? That I love you? I’ll come back, he says instead, the only thing he can promise and keep. And he wonders if it humiliates her too, the way he lies, the way he runs, the way he swears, the way he always comes back and comes back but never returns with the things she needs. A humiliation just like it is a begging.

The thing they have: it’s strange, fickle, honest in its lies, very, very ugly. An ugliness that is shocking in a world gone to rot already. The sky doesn’t shine anymore and they bask in it.

But also, and, the thing they have: it’s physical, saving.

This is obvious too, even if only to them.

He slides inside and you’re what? Hot and wet and slick, and—yes, a thing like a dream, but still only a thing. Something to have, something close to desire, but not quite, more like biological want. Woman turned possession. In his mind this is an excuse, a reason, a begetting. Like, what—like what? Like when you want a thing very badly but it is very bad for you, and you need to make up any excuse to have it, lie and lie and lie—to your mother, your best friend, the mirror—a begetting like that. Easy to understand only if you’ve been there.

It started simple, it started like nothing, it started like the first time you meet someone and you know they’ll matter, you know they’ll mean something. So it started like what? Like a lie.

Shifts at the QZ, long and toiling and reminders of the sort of life that died in an outbreak of monsters, only if for how unlike that past it was. Humans or fungus or—

—men who hurt—you, men who refuse your love, Joel Miller.

The crutch of your age, of you being weaker or smaller or in need, him being easily felled, wooed, easily conquered by something young and given without a try because there was never the opportunity for trying before.

Now, it is like this: you take my cock and you take my come and you take my nothing, and I give so little and yet you still find a way to take and take and take, leech of a girl, dream of a girl, hungry. And with the excuse that it’s only in a way you contrive for your own self. But in the end, what does that make you? What do I make you into?

These are the things he asks himself.

Perhaps she goes away for a time, tries the route of escape, of variety. But when she inevitably comes back because addiction is riddled always in the same sorts of ways: did you try different bodies? Did you try different flavors and sounds? Did you look for me in all of them?

The answer is usually yes.

At reunion’s turn: he rolls her over to face her, Joel, damp and panting and trying to be something—perhaps better, more honest—after a season of variety and honest attempts and shut eyes. He’s so hard for her, always is.

Again: he slides inside and you’re what? His, undeniably. Not yours. Something to want but not desire because it’s too romantic a notion, and yes, there’s a difference even if he can’t put into words what that difference specifically is. Body and heart, perhaps, definitions that differ between disparate anatomical parts or levels of deniability.

Nothing either of you have ever been able to put into words when lust and love aren’t things you can even say out loud for the shame of them, even if they exist within said same anatomy.

You come together, the season passed, the separation passed but still kept at hand for the next time the closeness becomes too much.

“Tell me again,” she says, and this time he remembers what she’s asking for.

“I fucking missed you, baby. Missed this pussy.” Because he can’t say it’s her heart he missed. Because Joel Miller does not have honesty in his arsenal.

He spreads you wide, knee to shoulder so it hurts and pulls, so it’ll be sore and reminding tomorrow. The slap of his pelvis against the back of your thighs is obscene, wet and lewd, a string of girl cum keeping you connected, such togetherness, curve of your ass to the root of his cock—the two of you are together again.

You know what I thought, when I tried to go away, you say. He doesn’t want to know, but he doesn't tell you so either, only slides in again, the mouth of your womb right there, threatening. I’m never going to feel like this again, and I hate how certainly I know that. He wonders if the unsaid part is that he’s the recipient of that feeling, the hate.

He wonders if the pinch inside him is hurt. He wonders if the throb is love.

All he says because he can’t say the rest is, I missed you, I missed you, and if he could look himself in the mirror—something that’s twenty years past lost—he’d ask: are you alright? Just tell me you’re okay. And it sounds in your own voice and with your own care and the feel of your own warmth. Is there anything I can do?

Other times, he sees himself through your own eyes, and then he knows for certain that the throb is love

So he makes up for lost time, hard—and if it was a thing he knew how to be— loving. Mouth to cunt first, primed and soft and begging, making you come again and then another once more, then inside of you. Slow, splitting you open, red cunt like a wound, balls slapping wet, pulling out to watch the gape of the space he’s carved for himself. His cock is so hard and missing you something desperate. And he’s reminded of what it is to really miss something in a way he hadn’t been in twenty years of apocalypse, he’s forced to realized that it’s been so long since he’d had something to love that he’d not realized the feeling of missing that long past someone had gone away, only faint memory remained.

Violent, is what this makes him after that realization—thrusts turning hard and punishing. How dare you give yourself to me? How dare you then take yourself away? You come around him again, the gift of your orgasm. How dare you not be able to accept the little I’m able to give when I’m trying so desperately fucking hard to give you even just this?

He fucks you mean, he fucks you in the way of a man who doesnt know how to say the things he needs to say, in a way that’s confusing, that could make a less discerning woman feel only the hurt.

But then again, you know him.

Fucks you in a way that is a little bit like love.

And so, amidst all of it, there is an honesty amongst the lies. A truth unspoken that they both know—I’ll come back because I need you, because you’re the only one who can give me the things I'm not strong enough to ask for out loud.

You’re not sure which of the two of you is the one saying it.

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

Updates Blog

#vic fic #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader

482 notes · View notes

sortaawkward · 3 months

Text

I have read the PJO series many, many, many times over my life, and so objectively I knew the ways in which Percy and Luke were two sides of the same coin- even Percy himself recognized how easy it could have been for him to have ended up in Luke's place. But, I just watched an animatic on TikTok that kind of blew the lid off of it for me. The funny thing though? After watching the video, my first thought wasn't about Percy and Luke; my first thought after it looped was wow, I never realized how paralleled the lives of May Castellan and Sally Jackson are.

It doesn't require much delving into fandom content to come across any one of the myriad posts touching on Percy's "mama's boy" title because he is one- plain and simple. However, this particular TikTok had granted the title to Luke freaking Castellan- something I had never seen, or perhaps never cognized, before. Naturally it got me thinking: how would Percy react if May's fate had happened to Sally, instead?

Sally Jackson has true-sight; it's what led to her meeting Poseidon in the first place. And much like Hermes wanting to stay around/with May- Poseidon, too, wanted to keep Sally around. He went as far as offering to build her a castle on the sea floor for her to live in so he could come visit her.

I've struggled with Luke's anger towards Hermes about May's fate for a long time. I struggled because, while I knew that some of it was simply the irrationality of human emotions and the fact that Luke was a child, I couldn't get over the fact that Luke so blatantly chose to overlook the fact that Hermes was against May's attempt to take on the Oracle's spirit. Now, however, if we look at it from the perspective of "if it were Percy and Sally" I can understand that Percy would blame his father because by simply existing and being in her life he condemned her to this fate.

Perhaps Luke did know/understand that Hermes had tried to talk May out of her plan to become the oracle. Perhaps Luke just didn't care; what if his issue was with the existence of Hermes and the rest of the gods and the simple existence of their world? If the world of the gods and demigods and CHB had never come into contact with his mother's world- if the world of Olympus had never existed at all, then May Castellan would have been totally fine.

This might be nothing, or maybe everybody has already come to this realization and I'm just arriving late to the party. May Castellan was also born with the gift of prophecy whereas Sally was not- so it's not even like an exact parallel. I had just never looked at Luke under the scope of a boy who loved his mother the same way that Percy loves Sally, and it kind of blew my mind. Anywho, if anyone reads this sorry for subjecting you to my stream-of-consciousness; I just needed a sounding board (to write it out) in order to organize my thoughts.

#percy jackson #sally jackson #luke castellan #may castellan #hermes #poseidon #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #rick riordan #percy jackson series #spoilers

239 notes · View notes

hillbillyoracle · 21 days

Text

How to Create Downtime Menus

As a lot of my posts are, this one was inspired by a conversation with my partner. She seemed to think some of my ideas were helpful so I thought I'd write them up and share them here.

I use a combination of these ideas to do two things - redirect myself when I get stuck doomscrolling/freezing/obsessing and redirect myself when I'm stuck on the "must be good, must be productive" hamster wheel and can't seem to stop doing chores until I'm fucking exhausted or have pushed/hurt myself. Knowing you need to stop is one thing - knowing what to do instead is another.

Not all of these will work for every person at every time. Pick one or two that seem interesting and give them a whirl.

Habit of the Month

This is a small habit I can do in about 5-10 minutes a day. These are sometimes habits that I want to audition for my lineup or just want to focus on as a way of rebooting a given area of my life. Physical habits have been things like stretching, a walk, putting on moisturizer, drinking water, making tea, etc. Emotional habits have been things like stream of consciousness journaling, bullet journaling, recording myself venting, etc. Spiritual habits have been things like meditating, altar work, reading sutras, tarot readings, etc.

If I'm stuck in a loop and I haven't done that task yet, it serves as an easy win that feels moderately meaningful to accomplish. This is easier to do than longer or less interesting tasks.

Side Quests

These are little challenges I'd like to accomplish that are 100% fun and completely optional. They are specific and can me completed within a given time frame - usually a month. They usually aren't the most meaningful to keep them more fun and so I'm not letting myself down if I don't opt to complete it.

They've been things like:

The Minor Expert Challenge - read three books in one subject

The Kanopy Critic Challenge - use up all of my Kanopy credits that month

The Regal Freegal Challenge - download all the albums/songs I can on Freegal that month

The Monthly Playlist Challenge - create a playlist of the month where each song represents something about each day of that month; like a playlist diary

The Reverse Tarot Draw Challenge - pick/list a tarot card you best think represents each day of a given month or other time period; like a tarot card diary

The 100 Words Challenge - learn 100 words in a foreign language

As you can see, I prefer things that are pretty low energy friendly so I can work on them on days I'm super tired. Just little chronic illness things.

Alphabet Lists

I use these for my cleaning routines actually but I also have been trying them with my downtime. The way it works is you list out the alphabet and choose one self care or hobby task you'd like to do for each. They don't have to start with the same letter, it just serves as an easy way to limit how many you pick and keep track of what you've done. It's satisfying to cross off the whole list.

Tasks I put on these are things like

A - paint my nails

B - crochet a charity hat

C - write 5 letters for Letters Against Isolation

D - send a letter to a friend

E - play a solo rpg

F - play a solo board game

G - complete a puzzle

etc

They're fun tasks I'm not currently doing as often as I'd like but chill enough that it doesn't matter when precisely I do them more often. I try to pick tasks that are roughly 30 minutes to an hour long though some definitely take longer. I like to complete these roughly monthly but I try to complete a whole list before I start it again. Anything I just did not feel like doing and kept skipping gets scratched out and I rewrite a new list with new item to replace those. And I start again.

Whenever I'm like ugh I don't know what to do with myself, I try to pick at least one thing on the list and give it a try for 5 minutes. If I don't like it after that I can just put it away and pick something else.

10x10

10x10 lists are a different take on a similar idea. It's a list of 10 things you'd like to do at least 10 times in a given time period. Mine tend to be on the seasonal or annual timescale but maybe you're intense and prefer a monthly one. If I don't complete them in a given time period, I just continue with it until I'm done. Better to complete it on an altered timeline than not at all.

For me these tend to be slightly bigger tasks that take a little more planning or energy. I'm not totally sure why I use them this way since you could definitely use them for smaller tasks but that's just the space they occupy for me.

So examples of what would be on my list would be things like:

Grab a hot chocolate from the coffee shop (x10)

Complete a PokemonGo event (x10)

Have a spa night and watch a movie (x10)

Do something extra nice for my partner (x10)

Try a new game (x10)

Find a geocache (x10)

etc

Filing up a little 10x10 grid is pretty satisfying. Much more so than anxietying myself into my bed for the equivalent amount of time.

Seasonal Bucket Lists

I really enjoy making these though I really struggle with the current season (Spring) given my allergies. There's this idea my partner has told me about in DBT where you try to recall positive moments to help "build a life worth living". I think seasonal bucket lists are really good at helping with this for me. I look back on the seasons I made these lists way more fondly than the ones I didn't.

They generally center on seasonal activities I don't want to miss out on. So for summer that's stuff like going for a night swim/skinny dip, getting 5-10 good cloud photos, playing a yard game (like cornhole), seeing a street concert, etc. I also try to take pictures of those (if they don't already involve them) so I can reflect on them later and enjoy the residual happiness.

Conclusion

The point of these isn't to overwhelm you with options. It's just to have enough ideas prepped that you can find something no matter your energy level or time you're working with.

Remember - rest and enjoying yourself is necessary for human health. Folks how get good rest and experience flow states more regularly tend to heal better. People who spend time on what they enjoy are often more enjoyable to be around.

It's never a waste of time to make yourself happy.

#life advice #adhd #love a good list

140 notes · View notes

neptune-scythe · 3 months

Text

Do you ever think about how Kaz making sure Inej is reunited with her brother is so he doesn't have to deal with his own grief?

Hear me out

Obviously he cares about Inej and wants her to have her family back and that's his main focus, or at least his main focus consciously

But here's the thing

They're mirrors of each other. Two people who lost brothers, Kaz's is gone forever ... But inej's is still out there (probably). Now we all know Kaz has never dealt with his grief, and probably barely even acknowledges it, mostly because he doesn't know how. That's not something people just ... Know how to do, grief is a process and if you don't have a single other person to help you or even be the slightest bit supportive it's going to be nearly impossible to grieve in a healthy way. Let alone being in a constant state of survival mode having to watch your back all the time because you're a kid in a very dangerous place and pretty much ever single person is an enemy, or at least not someone trustworthy or helpful. But I hella digress my bad

My point is Kaz hasn't dealt with the loss of his brother (why have I not used his name once? Bitch idfk my bad Jordie you deserve better bestie), which was a meaningless death. And by that I mean Jordie didn't sacrifice himself for some cause, he wasn't a casualty of a greater issue ... He just died. Because that what people do.

And especially for a kid who's all alone with not a single soul left on the earth who gives a damn about him, that's a pretty tricky concept to grasp. That your whole world, the most imporant person in your life could just die ... Just be completely gone in a moment. Thus why Kaz immediately blames Pekka and devotes his life to revenge, even though Pekka was only indirectly involved in Jodie's death. But blaming Pekka gives his death a meaning, it means there's something he can do to make it mean something.

Once again super digressed from my main point whoopsieeee. Hope y'all are enjoying the wild ride of my thoughts rn (I'm literally just stream of consciousness writing this shit, and for shits and giggles imma leave it that way no edits this is a first draft post you're welcome)

N E WAY

Jodie's death WAIT A SECOND HOW MANY TIMES HAS IT AUTOCORRECTED TO JODIE 💀

I'll never know because I'm not rereading this shit

Anyway

JORDIE's death meant nothing, and Kaz's revenge on Pekka didn't give it meaning either ... Which he probably knew deep down that it wouldn't. But those are the kinds of thoughts we ✨silence✨ because we need the rage for vengeance to keep us alive and doing things.

Now back to Inej and Harij.

Reuniting them will for Kaz make his own situation mean something (in my opinion don't at me these my head canon thoughts). That even though he can't bring his own brother back, he can bring back hers. And knowing that they're together will make his own grief a little easier to bear. It balances it out, if you will.

Two brothers lost, one brother found. Good math

OK BUT ALSO HAVE YOU CONSIDERED

Harij is Inej's younger brother

So consider Kaz is doing it as much for him as for Inej. He's making sure another little boy (he's obviously not a little boy anymore but like ... He was 12 ((idk how old he'd be know)) and that's plenty young) doesn't have to lose his older sibling forever.

And also consider

Kaz knows he doesn't deserve Inej, he knows he most likely won't always have her ... And more importantly she won't always have him.

He won't always be able to protect her, to keep her safe. But her brother could. Her brother could be there for her and her support her and even do a far better job (probs idk what bros personality is like but I bet Kaz Brekker is assuming shit too) than Kaz could. So by reuniting her with her brother he's making sure she's taken care of, that even if he lets her down, she'll never be alone.

Because real talk her

Y'all are allowed to have your head canons and shit I am NOT gatekeeping

But canonically Kaz Brekker is not the jealous or possessive type. If Inej wanted to leave him for someone else he'd be upset yeah but he's knows full well Inej is a living Saint and worth far more than he could ever deserve in a billion lifetimes, and he's also far more concerned with her happiness and well-being than what she can provide for him.

So he'd be satisfied being away from her, not knowing a single thing about her life, as long as he knows her brother is there with her.

He doesn't need to take care of her, he just needs to know that she is taken care of.

I rest my case

Send tweet

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk 🫡

(addition because I did actually reread it and damn I somehow forgot my entire point???

So yeah

About him using reuniting Harij and Inej as a way to avoid dealing with his grief.

It's like this

Brother dies

Kaz goes straight to revenge, never actually processes any of it, just jumps straight into making Pekka pay for it ... Which tbh is dealing with it in a sense but it's in a very passive way of going straight to doing without ever processing ... If that makes sense.

And that's repaying violence with violence, which leads to more violence. It's a cycle of destruction that Kaz is playing into, which is very hard to get out of once it starts.

But reuniting Harij and Inej is a break in that cycle. It's Kaz using his own pain as motivation and incentive to do something that will heal others. And making sure that neither Inej nor Harij get caught in the same cycle as Kaz did, it's using his own knowledge of that cycle to protect others from it. And more specifically, he doesn't know how to heal himself, he doesn't know how to move on or process and grieve, he doesn't know how to leave the cycle ... So he's helping Inej and Harij heal from their pain instead, and making sure they never enter the cycle.

Because he probably is well aware that revenge isn't the healthiest way to channel grief (but bro doesn't care because Pekka needs to be put in his place and we stan him for that), but channeling it into helping someone he loves is healthy.

And real talk here

Kaz probably believes he will never move on or heal from Jordie's death. Thus him being trapped in the ouroboros of suffering ... And go with me here.

If we view the ouroboros (snake eating its own tail if y'all don't know) as a literal scenario Kaz is trapped in, it's a mental prison basically, and one he has accepted that he will never leave. His fate is sealed, and he can't do anything to save himself from that.

BUT even if he can't ever break out of the ouroboros, he can keep others out, he can't save himself but he can save others from being trapped there as well.

And because of this he won't have to deal with the fact that he's trapped, he can focus all his energy on keeping others out ... And it gives it meaning. That even though he's trapped forever and can't do anything for himself, he can do something for other people because of it. Because the only way to avoid the ouroboros is if someone inside warns you.

That was a wild metaphor I hope that made sense lol

Also once again these are my head canons and I wrote it from Kaz's perspective so to speak, so when I say things like He cAn NEVer HeAl that's because that's what he thinks (imo) not what is objectively true. Healing is absolutely possible and bro can get it he just doesn't know it yet.)

#grishaverse #six of crows #crooked kingdom #shadow and bone netflix #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #dirtyhands #the bastard of the barrel #the wraith #kanej #kaz x inej #kaz and inej #kanej headcanon #kaz and inej headcanon #kaz brekker headcanon #inej ghafa headcanon

73 notes · View notes

lotusbxtch · 2 months

Text

don't ruin this on me

Pairing: f!Reader x post-outbreak Joel

Rating: Mature (mentions of smut)

Word count: 861

Warnings: Mentions of smut, mentions of heart attack symptoms, mentions of alcohol, aaaaaaangst so much angst, no use of y/n. Not beta'd.

a/n: for whatever reason, I am all up in my feelings tonight and felt the need to write an angsty little drabble about lonely Joel & lonely pining Reader. Consider this a stream of consciousness I needed to word vomit onto Tumblr since isn't that what this place is for?

It's 2 am, the trees outside casting long shadows on your walls in the full moon's light. You shift restlessly in your flannel sheets, not from the cold, but from your own thoughts. There's an ache in your chest, a little pinch that blossoms deeper and spreads slowly. If you didn't know any better, you'd think you were having a heart attack -- you'd always heard that women's symptoms were more subtle than men's; the feeling of an immense elephant slowly crushing the life from you. But you know exactly what this is, and your eyes seek it out through your bedroom window. Seek him.

Just outside the glass, you see the silhouette of the house. His house. At night, everything in shades of grey, devoid of the color of life that the daylight brings. You think that this must be what the world looks like to him.

Ever since you moved in next door to Joel Miller, something deep in you changed. It felt magnetic, like kismet. The moment your eyes met his, something clicked, cracked, slowly hairline fractured in your soul. Something said "oh, there you are," whispered it in the pit of your heart, and you desperately wished it wasn't so. Because you swore you could see that glimmer of recognition the second your hand touched his, shaking it after introducing yourselves. You knew he felt it too. Could see his breath quicken for a few moments, something softening in his gaze. And then the tiniest pinprick of fear flashing in his eyes, and you could almost see him physically shut it out. And then nothing. Cold detachment. The chill went bone-deep, and you could never seem to escape it.

Joel was alone. He was always alone. Try as you might, more often than not, so were you.

You rolled the sheets around your body, wrapping up your arms and legs, holding yourself, desperately willing the feeling away. Knowing that you were literally yards away from him, and yet never seeming to be able to bridge that gap.

You thought things might have been different for a second a few months ago. Tommy and Maria had dragged you and Joel out for drinks, and after Joel disappeared for a few minutes, you went looking for him. You found him around the corner, looking up at the sky, fat fluffy snowflakes beginning to cascade down.

"Joel..." you said softly. He turned, meeting your eyes with your name cascading off his lips. It was the sweetest your name had ever sounded to you. He just stared at you, neither of you saying a word, but your eyes locking and speaking volumes. You stepped up to him, stopping when your feet nearly touched. Slowly, you reached out and brushed your fingertips over his arms, across the soft leather of his jacket. His eyes followed the motion, his breath deepening and quickening. Your lips parted as you breathed in to say something, anything, but nothing could come out. Joel felt your inhale and shifted his eyes back to yours. The fire in his gaze seared you, sent shockwaves through your chest, your arms, your core. His fingers twitched at his sides as you kept looking at him, reaching up to touch his jawline, the little heart-shaped patch in his beard that you loved so much.

"Please," you breathed simply. Begging. Pleading. Saying so much in only one word. You wanted him to know you could give him so much, so many things he was missing. Warmth, laughter, passion, care, simple companionship, understanding. You wanted so desperately to kiss his plush lips, drag him back to your home, spend the next week slowly pulling his defenses apart in your bed, laying his heart out for yourself, soaking in him, letting the pain seep out of the cracks, replacing it with happiness. Wrapping your body around him, surrounding him in every way until he had no choice but to let you in, to let you see him, to drain away his sins and his anxieties and his regrets. To drown the demons out with your moans, your sighs, your hips, your flesh, your wetness, your pleasure, to give and receive as you well pleased. Whispering, shouting, screaming his name as he took and took and took. To love him and love him and love him. Until he forgot why he built up those walls, and gave himself wholly to you.

To love you.

But just as soon as you saw the fire, you saw him snuff it out. The embers barely burning, dying, he skimmed the side of your face with his rough hand. "Darlin', I can't. I can't. You don't need me, you don't want me, I'm bad for you. I can never be good for you."

And then he simply walked away, into the cold streets, back to his home. And those hairline fractures shifted and splintered until the entirety of you broke. And ever since then, you've felt hollow laying here at night. Alone.

A single tear slips down your face. A hurt that will never heal, when the man who could fix it is right there. And yet never close enough.

#I should be sleeping #instead i'm pining away for a fictional man #pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller angst #pedro pascal cinematic universe

55 notes · View notes

kivino · 8 months

Text

FANTASY AU WITH VALERIA!

Word Counter - ~900 words.

Summary – self-indulgent thoughts with Rogue!Valeria in a fantasy setting!

Tags/Warnings – very much Dragon Age coded, reader is a mage/healer, mentions of blood and injury, this is very corny™, gn!reader.

A/n – wrote it almost in one go, very sorry if someone already did something like this! I originally planned for my first writing post to be Graves fanfiction that I’m working on right now, but I just couldn’t contain myself, lololol

Rogue!Valeria who stumbles into your clinic one moonlit night while running away from the city guard, hands clawing at her side, blood seeping through the delicate fabric of her shirt and vest, slipping in and out of consciousness, as she tries to hold onto the cold walls that smelled of medicine and herbs.

Rogue!Valeria who made so much noise and racket downstairs that it woke you up better than any of your assistants could. You fly out of your bed, covers and colorful duvets trailing behind you in a stream of fabric, long forgotten on the floor of your bedroom as you run down the stairs, in fear that somebody broke into your clinic, no patients of yours were staying overnight today. Any words that could’ve been said evaporate as you see a woman, bleeding out on the floor, back propped up against the counter, and…are those daggers she is carrying?

Rogue!Valeria who wakes up the next morning in someone else’s bed, her wound freshly bandaged, hot breakfast already prepared for her. And at that moment she thinks she must’ve died and gone to the Fade. Where else would she see a spirit as beautiful as you?

Rogue!Valeria who tried her best to leave this quiet haven, full of smells, colors, and so many things unknown to her (she’s no mage after all), but she just can’t, throbbing pain in her abdomen stopping her the moment she even tries to stand up among the quiet murmurs of your patients and their relatives. You throw her a stern look, and she is immediately pinned to the soft sheets like her body is not her own.

Rogue!Valeria who finally has a chance to talk to you once it’s time to change the bandages on her wound. You sit near her, your voice quiet, asking “May I?”, as you delicately remove the covers. Valeria asks if you can speed up the recovery, seeing what a miracle worker you were, treating the patients all day with the help of not only healing salves, herbs, and potions but also magic. And you decide to grant her request, hands gliding along the surface of her skin, Valeria’s stab wound slowly closing and a delicate, light scar forming. She doesn’t know how much that takes out of you until your assistant helps you walk back to your room to get much-needed rest. Her eyes lingered on your fatigued figure as her fingers keep poking and prodding at the thin skin of her new scar, feeling something warm spark inside her.

Rogue!Valeria whose gang starts protecting you. Thieves know better than to try picking any of the locks on your doors, signs carved on the worn wood by her informing them that this place is off-limits.

Rogue!Valeria who sneaks through your backdoor, knowing you always forget to lock it, seeing you sleeping on another book, laid out under your arms. She wraps you in a soft blanket, pressing her finger against her lips when she sees awake patients or assistants eyeing you two.

Rogue!Valeria who leaves the flowers she picked from the gardens of her rich targets on your windowsill, petals ruffled and worn, former beauty still recognizable. Instead of putting those flowers in the water you dry and preserve every single one of them, with time gathering small bouquets that greet you each morning around your clinic. When she visits “officially”, she asks about them and you just say that you have no idea who leaves the flowers, mischief tugging at the corners of your eyes. Valeria only grins in response. “Is that so? You must have a lot of suitors then.”

Rogue!Valeria who always leaves some of her things behind just to have an excuse to visit you again, to see you at work, to hear your laughter, and to feel your hand shake her own in a warm greeting. Each time she gets bolder, and instead of a small satchel or a dagger, you start finding her jewelry and accessories. When did she have the chance to take them off anyway?

Rogue!Valeria who drags you to the market during fairs, insisting that you need to have some fun once in a while, as she leads you between a variety of stalls, her heart squeezing harshly against her ribs each time your fingers tighten around her hand.

Rogue!Valeria who ends up hiding with you in a narrow alleyway, hiding from the city guard that patrolled the festival grounds. She looks you in the eyes, trying to make sure you’re okay, and shoots you a sly wink, caging you between her body and the wall. She feels her breathing get quicker with each second spent like this, but you two are soon taken out of it when small sparks of fire shoot out of your fingers. Too agitated to control your magic, you get flustered, not sure why you were getting nervous in the first place. But when you hear Valeria let out a hearty laugh from your sudden supernatural outburst, everything starts to make sense.

Rogue!Valeria who never mutters a single word about her quickly developing feelings. It would complicate things. It would spoil your friendship. It would tie her down, it would cause her to become slow and eventually sink, taking you with her. Yet she couldn’t let you go. Not when her heart ached with such sweet foretaste each time she saw you running to her with your arms open. Not when her thoughts inevitably drifted to you each time she was preparing to raid another lazy lord’s manor. Not when her days already started to center around visits to your small clinic, during which you constantly looked at her with that contagious light in your eyes.

taglist - @mockerycrow @stridersdiner

check out my masterlist for more fics or send me a request!

#cod mw2 #cod mwii #valeria mw2 #valeria garza x reader #cod #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #mw2 x reader #cod mw2 x reader

155 notes · View notes

writingsforwhatever · 5 months

Text

magnolia (m.s.) part 3

part 1 part 2

summary: reader has a friends with benefits arrangement with matt (what is there to explain?)

genre: heavy ANGST

word count: 2k

a/n: hi! please read this before pressing 'Keep reading' ~ this story was written years ago, it was for my creative writing and same as all the stories I posted here. I used different inspirations for this, from stories I've read before whether book or online. Again, this is fiction.

It's like the world had gone quiet, and she stood there, engulfed in a silence louder than any words could express. Matt's pleas echoed in the air, his distressed face begging for a response. "I'm so sorry. It was a mistake. It shouldn't have happened," his words pierced through her, yet she felt numb, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"Baby, please say something. I need you to say something," Matt pleaded, his voice echoed in her ears, passing through as if they traversed from one ear to the other.

She remained fixed in place, her mind a whirlwind of confusion and disbelief. What could she possibly say to this revelation? Offer congratulations? As the weight of the situation bore down on her, she grappled with an overwhelming sense of speechlessness, unable to navigate the shattered fragments of their once-shared reality.

Matt stepped closer, reaching out to comfort her, desperate to alleviate the pain, she felt his arms encircle her just before her vision faded to black.

When she regained consciousness, she saw Nick sat beside her, visibly alarmed as she attempted to speak. "Oh my god, thank goodness you're awake," he gasped, gripping her hand tightly. "Matt and Chris are outside. Matt's still crying his eyes out."

She ignored Nick's intense gaze fixed on her face, feeling as though he wanted to ease her pain somehow, yet knowing deep down that nothing could do that this time. "Did you call my mom?" she asked, already starting to stand up and leave.

"No, not yet. You've barely been here for 15 minutes. You were out due to a lack of oxygen caused by the immense stress you've experienced," he explained with a worried tone, his concern evident in his eyes.

Nick knew this was something she had to accept soon; the reality Matt had created, but he could not blame her as well. It was as tough for her as it is for Matt.

"I need to go, Nick," she declared, attempting to rise despite his efforts to stop her. "I have to leave."

When she yanked the door open, the scene of Chris comforting a sobbing Matt intensified her emotions. She bolted through the hospital corridors, she heard matt's pained cries, calling out her name, but she shut them out, her own tears streaming down her face.

She couldn't return home; she knew he would come looking for her there. She went to her friend's house, 30 minutes away from the city. There, she poured out her heart, crying for hours without any sign of relief, even as her friend insisted she rest.

She was determined to distance herself but Matt persisted, bombarding her with calls and going so far as to break into her apartment, almost crossing the line. He needed to see her, just a glimpse of her. Despite his relentless attempts, she remained resolute in her decision to stay away and forget the pain she never thought is possible to endure.

The first thing she did was move out of the state. However, this did not deter Matt's persistent calls; they continued relentlessly, he had never stopped calling her, going as far as 15 times a day, which made her change her number. Every hour of every day.

His once bright apartment turned into a gloomy space, mirroring the depth of his sorrow. Though Nick and Chris tried to comfort him, Matt's agony remained a daily occurrence. When Nick mentioned hearing from a friend about her move, Matt sobbed even harder leaving Chris in a state of silent sympathy, understanding that no words could soothe his brother's pain.

As days blurred into one another, Matt felt like he was just going through the motions. Despite his family's excitement for the upcoming arrival of his daughter, he struggled to embrace the joy. What is he going to do with the photos of them on his wall? He could not believe life has turned out this way for him. He loves her so much, cut him and he'd bleed her. He found things she left behind all over his place and in his car—a few hair ties, towels, and a forgotten backpack. It felt like she had been there just yesterday, sipping coffee in his t-shirt, before everything changed.

Grace returned to Boston to be with her own family, allowing Matt the opportunity to spend time with his daughter without any hassle in visiting her. The overwhelming guilt Grace felt was beyond words upon learning the demise Matt and his love were in. Grace didn't know what to do except care for her daughter.

Both she and Matt had agreed upon a plan: they would take turns caring for the baby. Mondays through Wednesdays were dedicated to him and his family, while the remaining days were for Grace. This excited everyone despite the lingering gloom looming on Matt. His mom tried to talk it out with him what her silence means and her reasons for leaving, but he didn't want to hear it.

She was taken by surprise when fate dealt her a harsh blow, a reality she never saw coming. In the months leading to the arrival of his daughter, she felt lost—often crying, sometimes just drifting through the days. She felt numb.

She left her job in Boston and sold her apartment, a place that held memories of their love. Cutting ties completely, she changed her number and blocked everyone connected to him. When her mother visited her in her new place in Los Angeles, she enveloped her in an embrace, cradling her as though she was two years old again, consoling her like she was a child over a wound that seemed destined to never heal.

Despite the persistent ache in her heart, her sister encouraged her to visit him and his newborn child who now filled his world, claiming it was the least she could do to begin moving forward. So, she obliged, taking a flight from the West Coast, the sweltering summer heat hitting her the moment she arrived in Massachusetts.

Fate had it that his daughter was born in the summer—clear, sunny skies and laughter-filled streets. It perfectly matched the season. But for her, it was a different story. Every street she knew contained traces of their past, and every building and landmark was a reminder of memories that she wanted to forget. Her eyes welled up with tears, a silent testament to the heartbreak she carried inside.

Matt had been in touch with her sister, the sole link he had to her world. It was the only strand connecting him to any semblance of her presence—a fragment he'd clung to desperately for months. As she stood before the familiar wooden door of his childhood home, the only thing separating her from what was to come. The door swung open after just two knocks, revealing Matt at the other side, as if he had been waiting for her arrival for an eternity, almost as though he had sensed her presence long before she had even approached the house. It was as if he knew she stood outside, hesitating for the past five minutes to step forward.

Surrounded by familiar faces—Matt's brothers, his parents, and Grace tenderly cradling the baby on the couch—she felt a surge of emotions. "You came." Matt let out a breath.

She blinked at him, nodding. Not a word. None of this felt ordinary; everything was painfully surreal. Nick and Chris enveloped her in warm hugs, their knowing looks bringing a tinge of comfort in the situation. Slowly, the room emptied, leaving her alone with Matt and Grace.

"Hi," Grace greeted warmly, rising from the couch to greet her. "I'm so glad you came."

Her gaze met Grace's, her genuine welcome felt like a fragile attempt to bridge the gap that had formed between her and Matt. It was not Grace's fault that they were not official when it happened, it was his. All of this was because of him.

She reciprocated Grace's warmth, reaching out for a hug. Unbeknownst to her, Grace had been eagerly anticipating this moment—a chance to express her apologies and explanations, to reassure her that there was no cause for concern. Grace also intended to announce and let her know that she was getting married this upcoming December to her high school sweetheart with the hopes of inviting her and Matt, together.

"How are you? Congratulations," she offered with a gentle smile, attempting to break the ice. Handing over the thoughtfully chosen gift for the baby, she could feel his stare at her.

"Thank you," Matt whispered, an attempt to break through the barriers that silently stood between them. She didn't look at him. She couldn't even.

Watching the interaction unfold, Matt couldn't help but feel the weight of his breaking heart, knowing that this situation was equally tearing her apart and more.

"I've been better. Oh, and thank you so much for this! This will take time, but I'm sure she will be excited to read this," Grace said, excitement in her voice as she unwrapped the gift some more. "Oh my god! I love it."

"Yeah, it's for when she's a bit older and can already read. I remember already loving books from a very young age," she explained.

Matt's silence lingered, he wanted to say he knew that. He knew everything about her. Grace nodded appreciatively, sensing the weight in the air and offered, "Well, do you want to meet Sophia now?"

Nodding in response, she felt her heart racing as she carefully cradled the baby in her arms. As she held her, tears welled up. Sophia was a breathtaking sight—beautiful in every way. She had her father's eyes and nose, while her mother's lips and hair adorned her delicate face. Sophia's resemblance to her father was striking, almost every feature mirroring Matt's. She sat there, holding the most beautiful little girl she had ever seen, a sad reminder of what could have been with him. A life she's supposed to have.

She couldn't move, she felt rooted to the ground. "She's beautiful," she whispered softly, her voice trembling slightly, as she handed her back to her mother, fighting to contain the tears that threatened to spill over.

"I need to go. My sister—she needs me for something," she said, her voice strained as she struggled to compose herself.

"What? Stay for dinner. His mom would love to have you," Grace insisted warmly.

"No, I can't. I don't want to intrude," she declined weakly, already rising to her feet, eager to distance herself from the overwhelming ache that filled the place. Her heart throbbed painfully, yearning to be far away as possible from the man who had once been her everything. Each step away felt like a necessary retreat from the heartache, a desperate attempt to shield herself from the flood of memories and emotions that threatened to engulf her completely.

Matt's plea cut through the tension. "You're not intruding. Stay," he urged, his voice soft but desperate. Their eyes met briefly before she averted her gaze and replied, "I would love to, but I really have to go," she uttered, her tone heavy with reluctance. The air grew heavy, both of them painfully aware of their hearts breaking in each other's presence.

Without another word, she made her way to the door, already stepping onto the porch when Matt rushed after her, his hand clasping her arm tightly. "Don't go. Please," he pleaded; his voice filled with desperation.

She pulled away, continuing to walk, with Matt trailing behind. "Matt, please," she choked out between tears streaming down her face, her composure shattered.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what else to say or do," Matt choked, reaching out to her once more.

"Please, stop apologizing," she cut him off sharply, turning abruptly to face him. Frustration evident on her face. "Just stop."

"You didn't have to leave, you know? I needed you, you know that! I need you. I looked for you everywhere!" his voice trembled, pleading for answers.

"You don't understand," she cried out, her voice shaking with emotion. "I can't handle this."

"Why? Many people make it work. Why can't we? I have Sophia now. So what? It doesn't change anything. You're the love of my life. It doesn't change anything," he pleaded, his voice cracking.

"It changes everything. It changed everything, Matt!" she replied, her eyes filled with a mix of anger and pain.

Once more, Matt tried to reason, his voice heavy with sorrow. "How? Tell me how?"

She sobbed; her voice filled with hurt. "Because Matt! It was meant to be me. I had thought this was going to be my life! This is the life you promised me!” Her words quivered. "I know it's been tough for you too, but I just can't do this."

Matt tried speaking again, but she cut him off immediately. "You just don't understand, Matt," her frustration evident, eyes wide with exasperation.

"Try me, c’mon. Tell me-" Matt's voice faltered, his brows furrowed.

"She made you a father!" she yelled, her voice quivering making Matt widen his eyes. A moment of stunned silence followed. He was frozen, tears streaming down his face, wrecked by the realization.

"I can't measure up to that! No matter what I do!" she cried out as mascara runs down her face.

"I-I," Matt struggled to find words, the impact of her revelation hitting him like a tidal wave.

With that, she walked away, leaving Matt behind, tears pouring down his face. She can hear the front door open and a concerned Chris rushing to his brother.

</3

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fanfic #yes im crying #nick sturniolo #Spotify

118 notes · View notes

dewedup · 7 months

Text

Kinktober Day 1 - High Sex/Tentacles Monsterfucking

IT'S THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR!

@jimothybarnes and I decided to tackle this together, we'll be taking turns writing/posting and it'll be a collaborative effort for each piece we post!

This is all based around the amazing prompt list by @kroas-adtam!

Pairing: Swiss/Rain

Words: 1,739

“Is that-“

“A tentacle, yeah.”

At Rain’s words, Swiss feels his brain go through a series of events. At first, it’s reeling, thoughts flying by at the speed of lightening. Then it’s eerily quiet, his mind going completely blank, a barren shell of where his brain used to reside. Finally, it’s like an explosion.

Read it under the cut or here on AO3

Swiss and Rain pass the joint back and forth as they relax in the sunlight on the dock. Their feet kick lightly in the water beneath them, soaking up the sun and enjoying the company of each other.

“Favourite animal?”

“Axolotl.”

“What the fuck is that?” Swiss sputters, choking on the smoke as he exhales, almost positive that Rain just made up that word on the spot. The water ghoul giggles at the bewildered look on Swiss’ face. He tries to compose his facial expression, but the grin he’s sporting would need superhuman strength to suppress.

“An animal.” Rain deadpans, lasting a whole five seconds before he’s busting out into laughter again, clutching his stomach at the sigh of exasperation Swiss releases beside him.

“Yeah, no shit. Got any more info or did you just say it to sound quirky?”

“Hey!” Rain protests, smacking Swiss’ arm at the insinuation. “They’re real, and I’m quite knowledgeable. Especially animals that thrive in water. It kind of comes with the territory of being a water ghoul.”

“All water animals, yeah?” Rain nods in confirmation at Swiss’ question, tossing a goofy smile in his direction. Swiss reaches over to crush the roach of the joint against the dock. He seems deep in thought, or just… maybe regularly in thought? Rain’s having a hard time wrangling his stream of consciousness, the cloudy haze of the weed making him pleasantly blissful. “I think my favourite animal would be an octopus, which I’m sure you’re quite knowledgeable about.”

An idea hits Rain as the words leave Swiss’ mouth, his grin doubling in size as he leans in to whisper conspiratorially.

“Wanna see a trick?”

“Absolutely,” Swiss doesn’t hesitate to answer, already watching the ghoul in front of him with anticipation. He’s pretty sure he’ll find whatever Rain’s about to do endearing. He has a soft spot for the water ghoul. He’s so busy getting lost in Rain’s eyes, he doesn’t notice anything amiss until there’s a nudge on his shoulder. He reaches a hand up subconsciously, swatting away whatever it is.

Except, it’s… well, it’s kind of wet? Slimy, almost. And it has a texture Swiss has never felt before. His head snaps to the side and his eyes are level with the intruder.

“Is that-“

“A tentacle, yeah.”

Swiss would never admit it, but he watches a great deal of tentacle porn. A borderline unhealthy obsession. He always thought it looked too fake.

He can now confidently say they weren’t too far off.

It’s purple in colour, tiny little suction cups along the bottom of the appendage. What they missed were the details. The way he can see the veins crawling underneath the outer skin, supplying blood all the way to the smooth tip. It glistens, most likely from tiny little pores along the surface to produce lubricant.

It looks so inviting. Swiss raises a hand but freezes before he makes contact.

“Can I-I mean, is it okay if I touch it?” It doesn’t surprise Swiss that his question comes out like a plea, begging for permission, pleading for consent to lay his hand upon this utter perfection before him. Rain seems a little confused, looking at the multi ghoul intently, trying to uncover why exactly it looks like he’s about to come in his pants at the thought of touching his tentacle. It might be a little odd, but he’s had weirder things happen. So, he shrugs, lifting the appendage from where it sneaks out from underneath his shirt, a little closer to the multi ghoul.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

It’s the green light Swiss needs. He’s running his fingers lightly down the length of the tentacle, sometimes stopping to wrap them around it, testing out the girth of the extra limb. One time he gets bold, when he’s got his hand wrapped around it, he gives a firm tug, basking in the feeling of the veins passing underneath his grip.

He freezes as Rain lets out a cut-off moan, like the ghoul himself is surprised the noise has left his mouth. Swiss looks up, meeting Rain’s wide eyes. He almost snatches his hand back, wanting to apologize for whatever just happened between them.

But he’s also high as fuck, and he wants to hear that noise from Rain again.

He gives another experimental tug, watching as the water ghoul’s eyes roll back, eyelids falling half shut as he releases another filthy groan.

Swiss surges forward, trying to capture the taste of Rain’s moan with his own lips, his tongue forcing its way in to clean up any lingering notes of desperation. Rain shudders against his lips as Swiss starts jerking his wrist along the tentacle, growing more confident with every stroke.

He pulls back to watch Rain crumble in reaction to his touch, Swiss’ eyes drinking in the visual of the ghoul falling apart beneath his hand like he’s never seen him do before.

“Swiss,” Rain whines, claws coming up to bury in Swiss’ shirt. He’s clutching pathetically to him as he continues to shake with every other slip of Swiss’ hand. Swiss can’t form a coherent thought. The only thing keeping him grounded to this realm is the way Rain’s mouth forms his name like a hymn, the claws scratching lightly against his chest, and the slick sensation of running his hand up and down the tentacle.

He wants desperately to burn this entire encounter into the recesses of his mind. He’d never watch porn again if he could close his eyes and see this image imprinted there forever.

“Swiss I’m gonna… Fuck, Swiss I think I’m close,” Rain’s voice cracks and it pulls Swiss back from where he was floating above his own body, taking in the scene like it was crafted specially for him. He supposes it is, and thinks he should thank Lucifer for every single thing that’s happened in his life leading him to this moment. He glances down at the rapidly growing damp spot on Rain’s shorts, curious to see if he’ll come without Swiss paying any attention to his cock.

“What if I put it in my mouth?” The question surprises even Swiss, unsure that was the direction he was heading in until the words have already been said, unable to take them back now. The needy gasp that Rain answers with is enough to make him positive that he doesn’t want to rescind the request.

“Fuck, I-Swiss, yes.”

“Say it again.”

“Please put my fucking tentacle in the filthy little mouth of yours.” Rain rasps, and the words go straight to Swiss’ dick, his own pants looking in no better condition than Rain’s. He ignores his achingly hard cock though and uses his hand to bring the tentacle closer to his face, his gaze travelling over the surface of the appendage.

Swiss sticks his tongue out, licking timidly at the head of the tentacle. The lubricant coating the surface is salty, with an underlying taste of Rain that has Swiss swallowing down the saliva that starts pooling in his mouth. Rain mewls in a high-pitched tone, the tentacle pulsing underneath Swiss’ firm grip.

Without a second thought, Swiss wraps his lips around it. He suckles gently, the discharging lubricant reminding him of pre, just a thinner texture. He slides the tentacle further into his mouth and pauses as the little suction cups on the bottom catch on his tongue. It hinders his movement slightly, but he’s no stranger to a little adversity. He pumps his hand along the tentacle as he continues to suck a little harder, moving his tongue as much as he can with the new restraints.

“Swiss,” Rain hisses, and it’s the only warning Swiss gets. Rain shudders, letting loose a garbled mess of Swiss’ name and a loud moan, the patch on his shorts darkening and growing as he comes untouched. Swiss is a little surprised. Usually in the videos he watches online the tentacles ejaculate as well, but Rain’s panting and slumping with the mess in his pants being the only evidence of their time together.

Swiss starts to try and remove his tongue from its entrapment when Rain breaks out a sharp, drawn-out cry. Instantly his mouth is being pumped full of liquid, too much so he’s drowning in it. He can’t pull back with his tongue still tied up, so his only option is to keep gulping down the release, swallowing desperately. Just when he thinks he might not survive this tentacle ejaculate, it finally ceases. He’s panting and can feel the liquid sloshing around in his otherwise empty stomach.

He has to exert some effort to remove his tongue from the clutches of the suction cups, being extra mindful of his teeth and razor-sharp fangs. Rain whimpers at the struggle, getting louder when Swiss finally frees himself.

“That was…” Rain trails off, his chest moving rapidly with how heavy his breathing is. Swiss sticks his tongue out, poking at the slightly raised circular bumps that are sore to the touch. He glances up from under his lashes at the water ghoul, who’s observing his movements closely. Swiss pushes his tongue out a little more, pointing accusingly at the marks he is sure must be visible. Rain breaks into another bout of laughter, arms wrapping around his stomach as he slumps forward, giggling wildly.

Swiss starts to chuckle too, laughter building until he’s wiping tears from his eyes.

“That was fucking wild,” Swiss agrees, shaking his head at the absurdity of the situation. He feels like he’s in a dream, that there’s no way this can be real. But he watches as Rain reels back in his limp tentacle, sliding back to where it had appeared underneath his shirt, no longer as imposing of a sight since it emptied itself into Swiss’ willing mouth.

“I didn’t know it’d feel that good,” Rain offers with a blush, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“You can do that whenever, yeah? Like whip that thing out?”

“I mean, yeah?”

“Okay, good. I might have a few different ideas of how we can make that feel even better, for both of us.”

69 notes · View notes

coyoteprince · 2 months

Note

Would you like to share what happened in Savannah? After my own paranormal experience I am fond of listening to/reading other people's!

For general public disclaimer, I'm aware this is woo-woo, but I have had a life-long relationship with death and many ghosts experiences, despite not looking for them. My Savannah experience is... well, my own, and my partner who was there at my side didn't see or feel anything. Don't go to a "haunted" place with intention of seeing a ghost, you'll probably just be disappointed or make yourself anxious for no reason.

Contains Foley House, the black shuck, and a raw record written the night of the Sorrel Weed house absolutely wrecking my ass:

Foley House:

We stayed in room 403, but I'm not aware of any historical significance other than it being one of the original rooms of the house.

I highly recommend this place to stay and the room felt outright "welcoming" in a strange way, as if I was always meant to be There, specifically, but that might be the special interest euphoria. I'd been aching to sleep in an old Victorian room again.

The first moment of displeasure was when I was having breakfast with my partner in one of the corner windows. We were pleasantly chatting when I suddenly went silent, thrown onto a freeze state with my blood running cold and my nerves shot. I saw nothing, but I could feel "someone" suddenly enter the room, simply observe us by standing in the middle of the rug in front of the bed, then turn and walk out. My blood warmed quickly after they left, my limbs shaking. I logically didn't see them as a threat- I've had this happen before- but my body reacted to the environment being very abruptly "Wrong" on a primal level all the same.

Another night- the night coming back from Sorrel- in that room I was jolted awake by a deafening blood curdling scream which certainly kept me awake for a long time. Every time I tried to sleep that night I'd have very disturbed visions that'd jolt me back awake. You can write this off as my intense experience influencing me as I do have a history of "exploding head syndrome" and sleep paralysis, though I haven't experienced it in a long time until that night and haven't experienced it again since. Thought I'd include it anyway.

On the street:

I see black dogs as a divine messenger and protector in my spirituality, and boy did I kept running into them in Savannah to the point that it felt on the nose. It was a sign that I'd achieved something, that I'm where I need to be, and that it was time for another huge (metaphorical) death in my life so that I can secure my future- and in the most hopeful but absolutely weary way possible, boy am I going through it right now haha. The third night of the Savannah trip was when I suddenly came to terms that I'm literally working myself to death and need to change how I view and care for myself before it's too late.

If anyone is looking for the huge antique Baskervilles Hound painting that I ran into, it's at Six Pence Pub.

Sorrel Weed

Following is what I wrote for myself the immediate night of getting back from Sorrel, so this is a very fresh, rattled, and stream of consciousness record. I normally don't really like posting something like this, but always feel something intuitive and fresh like this is the most genuine way to relay paranormal experiences. TL:DR: Saw weird thing in courtyard. Got sick a lot very suddenly. Met a very nice skull person. Got fucked up on spooky couch. Got even more fucked up from body reacting to the stress after leaving.

"I accidentally missed the normal historical architecture tour for the Sorrel Weed house and had to take a late night ghost-focused one. Wanted the normal tour but we leave tomorrow so its this or nothing. Didn't go into it expecting anything and was excited to take lots of reference photos for Widderwood, as usual.

Saw something in the garden and knew immediately things were going to be weird tonight. White flash, person height, within courtyard and in front of street entrance. Actually really funny in the moment because I Did Not Want That Thing To Have Just Happened but I'm so used to experiencing the woo-woo that I just mentally went "oh god dammit" defeated.

Felt fine, excited for architecture, then passed the threshold and... my flight response suddenly goes off. Hard. Right into the master of the house office and I get supremely bad vertigo. Got annoyed because I was trying to listen to the history of the place, but vertigo kept rising which made me wobble on my cane. I came here mainly to collect art reference but I knew then and there that I did Not want a single photo of this place on my phone. I don't know why, even- just in the moment I couldn't stand the idea of keeping photos of this place.

I kept getting sick and vertigo, but only in Very specific locations. Mostly stayed at the back and tried to hide my discomfort to not influence anyone in the tour group. Downstairs, servant's quarters, I could feel a busy "echo" in the catch-all work room where cooking and various chores would have been done- I'm not sure how to explain but it was like a vibration that unsettled me a bit? Just very weird.

Funny, I felt the safest in the near-black basement grain room, which saw civil war trauma surgery and acted as a morgue for a few years. An antique wheelchair was to the side of the gurney (special interest euphoria, hello). To the other side of the room, a female skull that was sourced from a denture manufacturer. She was beautiful- so, so beautiful that I kept coming back to look her in the face with a very comforted smile on my own. Absolutely radiant energy. In the same room to another corner, a couch that we are allowed to sit upon and may feel someone sit next to us. Well, I certainly needed a rest from standing, and I didn't feel anyone, but I sure did have such a strong, sudden vertigo that I made a surprised noise and slumped back for a few minutes close to fainting. The second I got some wind back I got off the couch and mentally went "haha, No". Wooziness is nothing new to me, but I felt trapped and heavy for a solid few minutes- never had that happen before, genuinely startling.

Our very kind tour guide could tell something was up with me, keeping an eye on my reactions. I was trying to not be too vocal about what I was experiencing, just manage my symptoms as normal, but it's obvious she knew I was Going Thru It. In private we discussed my connection to death, she showed us her Victorian mourning jewelry, and agreed the ossified woman in the doctor's case was beautiful. The tour guide told me the skull's name in life- Zarina- and though I'm doubtful of her original acquirement post-death and what she expected of her remains, it still felt sacred to be allowed to know her name and look upon her. Other people in the group kept making "eww creepy" comments toward her and I get it, I Do, but I wish I could have figured out what to say to gently suggest to see her as a person rather than a scary death item. I am glad I met Zarina. The other ghost tales- like the chair in the for some reason scary red lighted hall (why tho)- I did hover around but didn't experience anything.

Leaving the property, I felt a bit numb but my nausea and vertigo lifted over a few blocks. Our walk to our room was short, followed by... my body going into minor shock as soon as we got back to our room. I shook for at least an hour, I think its taken me most of the night just to get my body's responses to level.

I feel so energetically drained, different from my normal disability related fatigue, yet the entire time I was mentally calm. My body has felt this before, there is a difference. Chronic stress disorder and autism make me incredibly sensitive to the environment around me but it's been a minute since my body has reacted so... violently to atmosphere without obvious cause. The strongest since experiencing that fucked up abandoned house in Ohio over a decade ago. I didn't expect to taste such heavy air like that again, least of all when I was mostly hoping to take reference.

Sorrel Weed offers proper ghost investigations, which seemed like a fun thought to try in the future. I walked in excited for historical reference, but walked out somewhat harrowed instead. Now, I'm certain that I cannot entertain the idea of ghost hunting or else I will be at very real risk of a full medical episode... at least in that house."

27 notes · View notes

herotome · 4 months

Note

I've been scrolling through your blog, which is great by the way but anyway what I came to say, or well write, is that almost every answer by jade or post tagged as jade just makes me go: This is uncannily me?. So I just wanted to ask how did you get inside my brain and who allowed you? - Jades long lost twin??

You see, anon, Jade is also uncannily me... We're all Jade here. 😔🎈

No I'm jk but lol I think she's the one most people actually relate to on a certain level?

Griffin is the part of me that operates at 200% and has enough spoons to rival a kitchen drawer - the part that makes good impressions, makes people laugh and smile and regard me with that awed look of 'I didn't realize you were cool.' (But like, I tap into that energy a few times a year at most, sometimes needing to rely on alcohol to access it, whereas Griffin has an apparent endless supply even when sober l o l).

Mia is my late teens and early-twenties, constantly second guessing, wondering if I was too much, unsure of who I was and how I came across, immediately regretting it every time I had a big emotional reaction; yet at the same time had such a big heart that was ready for love and to be loved in all of love's different forms, just didn't know how.

Dart is how I behave in public - guarded, dismissive, unwilling to interact, but with glimpses into an unwaveringly kind and patient nature that I dole out in cautious doses to people who actually need help. It's the part of me that's seen how people take advantage of others and knows how people can be cruel and ignorant, but nonetheless feels compelled to do the right thing.

Jade is my anxiety and my compulsion to put myself under review, under a microscope, the part of me that is all too aware of being Perceived and wants nothing more than to hide under the covers and sleep for a thousand years, to be away from everyone. The part that is so, so tired, the part that would feel quite done if not for Mr/Ms 200% egging me on and on and providing some levity and good humor.

I think between enjoying yet fretting over the unpredictably fluctuating nature of internet culture, living in an age of monitoring and security and scrutiny, and maybe even a general millennial angst, the Jade mindset has become very commonplace and therefore #relatable.

bonus-

Warden... uhhh. Warden is like... the part of me that's more instinctual - my first reaction to things, which includes my skepticism and my willingness to believe things at face value? He's my capacity for faith and for withholding judgement - even when he wonders deep down if he's making the right call. When placed in a position of authority, the wondering and overwhelm runs rampant. Tbh I'm putting him last because he's also a lot like Jade in a weird low-key way - the way they think is very similar, the way they express themselves couldn't be more different.

And finally, MC. As best as I'm able to write it, MC is my surface level running stream of consciousness. It's capable of deeper thought and introspection, but I make an effort to keep it on the crust rather than allowing it to descend too deeply into the magma (where Jade and Warden live).

All this to say I bet every character is #relatable, if you dig deep enough and see them in the right light!

anyway tldr we're all sharing a brain, we're all in the matrix

#ro: everyone #herotome ask #ro: jade #ANON DIDNT ASK FOR THIS LOL but I've been looking for an excuse to put my petri dishes into words so here yall go

24 notes · View notes

inkblackorchid · 7 months

Text

I watched this duel again yesterday and I honestly wish I had any sort of fresh take or unusual perspective on it, but I think the truth is that I just don't. This duel is three things for me:

Proof of concept for a very intriguing larger narrative (whose execution sadly doesn't land all the way for me)

The introduction of a character who has several interesting key aspects to them (and who could have, perhaps, been handled a bit better)

Emblematic of all the issues I have with the WRGP arc's writing.

As I said, I don't think I have any truly revolutionary things to say about this duel, but I feel like getting my thoughts out, so expect a fairly non-structured, stream-of-consciousness post below. There are multiple things here that bother me and I finally want to dissect them. Feel free to follow along if you also like examining stuff like this in more detail than it perhaps needs to be examined in. And I really mean examine them in unnecessary detail. Be warned, this post could count as a dissertation in terms of length. But I'm passionate and like analysing things, so no attempt to control its length was made.

So, I won't mince words here. The Team New World duel is absolutely where several major aspects of the time-travel-Iliaster plot completely fall apart for me. I want to make it clear that this isn't the fault of Aporia's character writing or what this duel is building up to, though. Nor do I think that the concept of a secret shadow organisation using time travel to influence world events is too out there. Lbr, this is yugioh. The time-travelling-cyborg-shadow-organisation is absolutely not the culprit of why I think some things don't work here. (And by here I mean specifically the WRGP arc.) Moreover, I'll be the first to admit that the finale this duel builds up to, with everything from the Ark Cradle beginning its descent to Yusei's final duel with Z-ONE, is stellar. So there are several things that do work here—but I think that may be exactly the reason why the other things piss me off all the more.

So what are the "other things", then?

Well, simply put, a lot of this arc's supposed setup and worldbuilding falls apart as soon as you start asking a few simple questions, first and foremost "why". And again, I will likely not be treading new ground here, but this just irks me to no end. However, so this post doesn't devolve entirely into unproductive whining about a part of the show I wish had been better than it was, I'll be doing another thing here: Trying to provide solutions for the things that irk me as I go along. As a kind of thought exercise, and because it's not hate motivating me here, merely extreme frustration about an arc that feels like it was fumbled like a hot potato. So, let's start digging through this mess.

The elephant in the room.

This whole arc (and in fact even the pre-WRGP arc before it) hinges on the concept of antagonists using monsters that can absorb synchro monsters, which is treated as such a monumental problem that we see Yusei, our protagonist, in downright anguish about it not one, but several times. Like, this eats at him.

(Pictured: A troubled boy brooding about his synchro summoning issues.)

And look, I know everyone and their mother has brought this up at this point, but this is already the first bit that falls apart under the weight of the question "why". Why is Yusei so hung up on the fact that duelling against Meklords means using synchro monsters becomes pretty risky? Why is this enough of a problem to supposedly drive the plot for a not insignificant stretch of episodes? Now, I know Yusei uses mainly synchro monsters as his heavy hitters, and I have seen someone bring up the fact before that even irl, completely altering the strategy of your entire deck is a pain in the ass, to say the least. And I do want to admit that this is a valid argument. If Yusei genuinely had to change his whole deck to accommodate the new circumstances, that would be a Herculean task, to say the least. However. While I can see the merit of that argument, I have to raise two counterpoints: One—who said he had to permanently change the entire structure of his deck? The show never gives us reason to believe that anyone other than the cyborgs will suddenly jump out of the woodwork and also use an anti-synchro strategy, and it doesn't show us anyone else who uses a strategy like that, either. And two—note the framing of this issue. The show never suggests that Yusei needs a new deck, or that all his old tricks are completely invalid now. It harps on and on about how he needs a new strategy, yes. But is that the same thing? In my opinion, nothing really demands that Yusei needs to restructure his deck completely. If anything, he only needs to keep in mind that this is now a possibility when duelling people, and thus start keeping a backup plan. And unfortunately, he kind of does, which is where I need to address the Dragon Knight Draco-Equiste-shaped elephant in the room, because it sadly undermines that sensible argument something fierce.

(Yeah, remember this thing? Because I do and sometimes wish I didn't just so I wouldn't have to get frustrated about it all over again.)

Listen. We're all not stupid. Even before the Team Unicorn match, the vast majority of people watching 5Ds would have been aware that tribute summoning, ritual summoning, and fusion summoning are very much methods to get around the dreaded synchro-killers that already exist in the card game and don't require any supernatural shenanigans to be acquired. But speaking only for myself for a moment, I was still at least a little bit willing to suspend my disbelief and accept that not being able to synchro summon would be a categorical impossibility for our beloved motorcycle family before this scene. Except, then Draco-Equiste comes out. And naturally, you're left to wonder "ah, so this is the solution to the synchro problem, then"? But no. No, it very much isn't. Because unfortunately, this is the one and only time Draco-Equiste even shows up. Immediately before and after this duel, this card is treated as though it never existed. Even though this thing could have posed a serious threat to the Meklords, what with being able to absorb the effect of a dragon synchro monster in the graveyard and being able to bounce back effect damage. (Can you imagine how differently the Team New World duel might have proceeded if Yusei had summoned this again?)

So, of course, we're left with the question: Why the fuck was this even here? And on the surface, the answer is super simple: To sell copies of Dragon Knight Draco-Equiste, naturally. But narratively? Narratively, this card's appearance is a disaster. It's a miscalculation of such insane proportions I can hardly find the words for it. Because it proves the assumption many viewers, especially TCG players, would have had from the start: Fusion, ritual, and tribute summoning are still a thing and would definitely work against Meklords. To say this takes the wind out of the sails of the central problem of "oh no, what are we going to do without synchro summoning" would be an understatement. And that's without addressing the fact that the actual "solution" the show provides against the Meklords, as cool as Shooting Star Dragon and Red Nova Dragon are, is, on paper, ludicrous: In a bind because your synchro monster gets absorbed? Just synchro summon harder! And I just. Please. We can agree that this is silly, right? Even if they're very cool dragons and I definitely appreciate them, this is almost looney tunes logic.

Swinging around to a more productive discussion, could they have done their "uh oh, synchro summoning is now impossible"-bit in a better, more coherent and less silly way? Probably, but depending on how they might have handled it, they would have probably needed to sacrifice some other things. The issue here is the thematic element. Synchro summoning is hated, and thus punished, by the emperors of Iliaster because to them, it's a symbol of humanity's greed and subsequent destruction. And originally, the show ends up vindicating its use despite their warnings about the destroyed future in a sort of awkward "with great power comes great responsibility"-way. As in, synchro summoning still has the potential to ruin humanity by the end of the show, but Yusei and the others "earn" their right to use it anyway because they and humanity as a whole learn the lesson not to overdo it. Supposedly. The metaphor is, frankly, a bit wonky, which might be another problem in and of itself. But what's relevant here is that any attempt to fix this conundrum would thus have to keep the thematic element intact. To do that, our protagonists would therefore have to rely on synchro summoning at the start of the arc, as they did before, and would also have to rely on it by the end of the arc (again). The in between is, I think, where more interesting things could have been done with the concept, though—moreover, it's where I think the plothole of "hey why doesn't anyone tribute/fusion/ritual summon" could have been addressed. Say the gang learns that synchro summoning might now get dangerous and actually tries to shift gears. Say they do try out fusion, ritual, and tribute monsters to account for that—only to run into an in-universe meta wall and realise that sure, these monsters might not get absorbed by Meklords, but their effects and strength can't keep up with the synchros their opponents use, or that they're flat out too cumbersome to summon! It could have been as simple as showing scenes where trying to get tribute fodder onto the field or play a fusion or ritual spell card would have been too slow, too inefficient in a duel. They could have also gone an even simpler route and flat out made it so that Meklords could have absorbed any extra deck monster. Would this have made them stupidly overpowered? Sure. But wasn't that kind of the point, anyway? The Meklords were supposed to be a nigh insurmountable obstacle that ultimately required discovering not one, but two new, unique ways to synchro summon—and even then, the solutions still weren't perfect because Shooting Star and Red Nova can still get absorbed under especially tricky circumstances. So I doubt making them that much more powerful would have mattered. (And they had to be heavily adjusted for the irl TCG as is, so there's not really a need to factor in that concern, either.) Finally, and I admit this pains me a little to say, I think that any version of the synchro dilemma that wanted to make sense should have flat out removed Draco-Equiste. The card does nothing except open plotholes, and especially if we want to keep the themes intact without opening the can of worms that is alternative forms of summoning possibly being a better solution than Accel Synchro or Burning Soul, its presence just becomes a hindrance. Sorry, Dragon Knight Draco-Equiste.

So much for the synchro dilemma, then. But unfortunately, this is not the last aspect of the worldbuilding surrounding the three emperors of Iliaster and especially their Meklords that's built on a shaky foundation, to say the least. Onto the next one.

2. The Meklord genocide and the many questions it asks (and never answers).

I'm gonna roll several points into one here because they're all related to the Meklord genocide—that being the supposedly unavoidable catastrophe in the future where Aporia received all his trauma from. And I want to preface this with two statements, one good and one bad. Firstly, Aporia and the way his backstory gets exposed, quickly getting us intimately acquainted with the utter devastation of the Meklord genocide, is extremely compelling. You really get a sense of the terror at play and it gives him a perfect, understandable motivation for wanting to avert that future at all costs, even if human lives have to be sacrificed along the way.

(Ahhh, the lovely smell of childhood trauma in the making.)

Secondly... The Meklord genocide makes zero sense, and it has everything to do with the fact that once again, several major aspects of it buckle under the weight of a few simple questions. But let me roll that back first and examine what those major aspects, which the Team New World duel introduces us to, are.

Number one: I went back and checked, and this is the first time in the series that we are introduced to the concept of synchro summoning resonating with Moment reactors. Previously, the reactor itself, through the concept of planetary particles, and, by extension, the Moment energy itself was only implied to be something like a perpetuum mobile, infinitely producing its own energy.

Number two: Now, we have heard of Moment rotating backwards and exploding in the show before. But there are two new things here, one being that the Iliaster trio explains that in this instance, it caused a chain reaction, and that, for some reason, all the Moment reactors began exploding one after the other. The other, more crucial part being that they claim the Moment reactors responded to people's hearts. This ties in with another small thing introduced much earlier, where Bruno/Antinomy explains that Clear Mind, Yusei's accel synchro technique, is a way of "controlling Moment". Both link the reactor and its energy, which are pillars of 5Ds' worldbuilding, to human emotions. And I already need to say this here: This doesn't make lick of sense. But more on that later.

Number three: We don't get an outright explanation for this in this duel, as in, it's not stated verbally, but right after Moment supposedly "responds to people's hearts", the Meklords show up, heavily implying that the reactor, for some reason, summoned a robot army to destroy humanity.

Now, I'm going to give you the quick-fire round of questions these three concepts immediately sparked in my mind when I saw these scenes, because I think that will illustrate just fine why I have such a problem with all this: Since when is synchro summoning linked to Moment and how? If humanity already knew through the Zero Reverse incident, which is the foundation for 5Ds' canon, that Moment reactors could spin too fast, gain a negative rotation, and subsequently explode, why on earth did nobody think to install safeguards against that? Why are the Moment reactor and its energy linked to people's hearts now? How does that even work? And how is a human supposed to "control" a sodding energy reactor that was implied to stay in perpetual motion through a set of gears, which famously know how to read hearts, through achieving a clear mind? And why, oh why did the reactor—independently of its human creators, apparently—have a killer robot army at its disposal to let loose on humanity when it grew sick of their shit?

This plot has so many holes, it may as well be a net instead. And you know what the worst part is? The show answers none of the questions above. Moreover, the implications behind the concepts introduced for the sake of setting up the Meklord genocide are buckwild, to say the least. Let me run with this real quick to highlight the absurdity here.

Taking the idea that an energy reactor can respond to people's hearts and summon an on-demand murder robot army of apocalyptic proportions when humans around it grow too evil at face value honestly makes me wonder how the Moment reactor in NDC hasn't exploded five times over since its creation. You mean to tell me that between Goodwin's Iliaster goons, the Arcadia Movement, the corrupt security forces, and all the duel gangs in Satellite, there weren't enough evil people there to make the reactor go crazy? Plus, all of these people were already synchro summoning as if their life depended on it! Synchro summoning is basically ubiquitous from the moment the show starts, to the point where it's more unusual to see a duellist who doesn't synchro summon than one who does. But somehow, that wasn't enough to affect the reactor yet? Or is the implication here supposed to be that the part where the man-made machine meant to produce limitless energy can suddenly see into people's hearts was added later into the reactor's development? That humans for some reason decided, "yeah, that's what our new energy source needs! A way to shame and punish us with violence on an unimaginable scale for our transgressions!" And that's without addressing the robot army. Who built these things? And who decided it was a good idea to put them at the disposal of the very reactor itself? Do you mean to tell me some team of utterly cracked up scientists decided that the best entity to put in charge of the robot army that was constructed for some reason was the reactor system supplying the world with energy, "computers can't be blinded by human error and would thus never deploy this army for selfish reasons"-style? (Honestly, I almost wish that had been the idea here, but I'm absolutely certain it wasn't.)

I can already hear two major criticisms to the above, purposefuly hyperbolic extrapolation in the back of my head here. Allow me to talk about them for a moment.

One—"Okay, so the WRGP arc has plotholes. Didn't the dark signers arc have those too, though? It's not like they explained everything about all that stuff."

You're right! It did! As much as I love the dark signers arc, it hardly has the most tightly-written worldbuilding of all time, either. There are lots of things, some small (why was Rudger/Roman somehow a signer and a dark signer at the same time), some not so small (why on earth did Rex' plan to summon the king of the underworld and remake the world seemingly hinge on one of the signers failing to seal their tower, which he could have never guaranteed in a million years) that the DS arc never properly takes the time to explain. But even so, the dark signers arc doesn't fall apart under questions such as "why" and "how" nearly as easily as the WRGP arc for a reason that is as simple as it is stupid: The DS arc has a much less ambitious premise, and though its antagonists are cool, they don't actually pose a greater, moral dilemma. Think about it. The premise of the DS arc is a run-of-the-mill prophecy thing. You've got your chosen heroes, your destined enemies, and a battle for the world using supernatural shenanigans. And a lot of questions of "why" or "how" are relatively quick to be brushed aside with "magic" (or rather, Crimson Dragon/Earthbound Immortal shenanigans). Moreover, the dark signers themselves, while having interesting stories relating to the heroes on a personal level, are still, fundamentally, pure evil. They're not fighting to prevent a devastating, apocalyptic future, they just deadass want to get revenge and destroy the world. And all the more complicated, major themes the arc has (class discrimination, police brutality, how societal alienation can lead teenagers to join cults, poverty, etc.) are actually not really tied in with the Earthbound Immortals, instead happening on the sidelines or only being tangentially related to the dark signers (such as when Kiryu becomes a dark signer through the abuse suffered in prison). The only major theme that ties in with the dark signers is destiny VS. freedom of choice, which also gets resolved in the battle with Rex Goodwin. (Interestingly enough, all the more complicated themes on the side were also dropped after this arc, but that's a rant for another time...) Perhaps the arc still has some inconsistencies here and there, but largely, it stays fully coherent. Thus, the DS arc makes it way easier to suspend one's disbelief, making the unexplained parts seem much less egregious.

Two—"Calm down, this show was made for twelve year-old Japanese boys. They don't need to explain any of this."

If you honestly think children don't deserve well-made entertainment whose concepts and worldbuilding can hold up to scrutiny, I have nothing to discuss with you. Sure, children will swallow some concepts much easier and will suspend their disbelief much longer and more artfully than any adult on average, but that doesn't mean "kids are dumb anyway so why bother putting as much effort into worldbuilding for their shows as for adult shows" is the hot take you think it is. I am fully congnisant of the target audience for this show—that doesn't make me any less convinced that said target audience deserved a show where things made sense while they were watching it and where things could still make sense if they decided to rewatch it years later. Because, you know, that's what I think a good show should be able to do.

And with that, I can come back to the WRGP arc and an issue that ties in with both things I just addressed: The WRGP arc's actual story premise, buried beneath the well-known, equally beloved and beloathed tournament arc format, is a lot more ambitious than the DS arc and has several, fairly heavy, core themes that it sets up and tries to resolve by the end, among them: learning how to cooperate as a team (during the WRGP) and learning how to be independent (by the end of the show), destiny VS. forging your own path (round two), and, most importantly, taking responsibility and fighting for one's future. That last one especially is not only a good topic to address in a show specifically made for 5Ds' target audience, it is also represented by both Team 5Ds and Team New World in-story. Spicier yet, both teams are actually fighting for the same thing. Team New World, having seen the supposedly unavoidable, tragic future and thus decided to take action against it, is fighting for a future that doesn't have to be marred by such tragedy, by whatever means necessary. And Team 5Ds, young, hopeful, and trusting in their connection to one another and humanity as a whole, is fighting for a better future because they believe that tragedy can be avoided. The future these two teams want is almost the same—the only, crucial difference is that Team New World has embraced the use of drastic measures to bring that future about, while Team 5Ds hasn't. To Team New World, the future presents something like a trolley problem, if you will: They think doing nothing will lead to that inevitable tragedy and erase humanity, whereas sacrificing New Domino City in the present will still kill people, but preserve humanity in the long run. And they have firmly decided pull the lever and set the course so the trolley runs over just one person instead of many. Team 5Ds, meanwhile, isn't even thinking about the lever, instead insisting there has to be another way, and that even thinking about getting anyone killed for this is stupid. The whole conflict is, on paper, wonderfully compelling, because you can see where both sides are coming from. Sure, Team New World's members still act like absolute dickheads in true yugioh-tournament-opponent fashion, but ultimately, their goals make sense. Viewers can put themselves in their shoes and perhaps think that, faced with a horrible dilemma like theirs, they would make the same, awful choice to set the course and cause suffering now to avoid greater suffering later. For the greater good.

Unfortunately, the questions I listed above undermine all this somewhat, because as good as these antagonists are on a character level, it's incredibly easy to poke holes into their backstory and especially the circumstances surrounding the horrible, distant future they want to avoid so desperately—which, in turn, undermines that terrible future somewhat, because this is a narrative that demands weight (in my opinion). But if the supposed threat at the end, the terrible thing even our protagonists briefly aren't sure they'll be able to avoid, begins falling apart at the seams in terms of logic when you think about it for more than two minutes, where is that weight supposed to come from? There is also another question to be answered here that I need to discuss so I can touch on a central aspect that hampers the plot in this arc somewhat later:

Why are they so convinced that horrible, destroyed future is utterly unavoidable?

I want you to really think about this question, with me. Canon... never really gives us any direct proof that they're justified in being this certain. However, that doesn't mean we don't get an answer, per se, though the answer is a bit vague.

The implications here are... something, to say the least. First, as our basis, we have to assume that every "correction" Iliaster has made has been to avoid humanity's destruction in the future. Because frankly, that's all we get as far as Jose, Placido, and Luciano's definition of the "correct path" goes. Then there's the second bit. Apparently, they've been merrily "repairing" history for a good while already, yet, for some reason, they always get the same outcome: The Meklord genocide. This, in turn, has led them to take more and more drsatic measures to try and avoid it. And I want to point out the very obvious, mind-boggling implication that comes with this: Apparently, after every "correction" they made, these three have either let history run its course to see where it ends up this time, or have quickly zipped over to their own time to check whether things were still shit. Meaning Iliaster's whole deal of fixing history to make sure the Meklord genocide never occurs has been a very, very long run of trial and error. (I want you to think of all the possible "fixes" this could have included for a moment. We know from BBT that killing Pegasus was one of the ideas they had, for example. Did they also try to kill the presumed Industrial Illusions employee who came up with synchro monsters? Did they try to kill Yusei's dad so Moment would never be invented? Could they not have tried to simply inhibit the creation of the robot army, then? Or made sure someone installed some bloody safeguards on the reactors, as Yusei later does in-canon, which somehow works when he does it? The list goes on.) Now, we know that in canon, their newest idea is that the future can be fixed if they just destroy New Domino City altogether.

Here, the questions begin again (you may sense a running theme): If Moment is already invented and internationally known, why would destroying its place of invention do anything? If synchro summons are already a thing, doesn't that mean destroying NDC would only slow the catastrophe down, at best? And most importantly: Why are these guys so utterly convinced that this "repair", of all the ones they've already done, will save their future? How can they know that this particular plan will work when they've supposedly already tried everything?

(There is, of course, the tragic possibility to consider that perhaps, they know that there's no guarantee this will work. They've tried everything, after all. So maybe they know this won't fix things, either. But we know that Aporia, like Paradox, like Antinomy, and like Z-ONE is, somewhere at the bottom of his despairing heart, still desperate for a shimmer of hope. And maybe, just maybe, he has reached such a point of desperation that he'll watch an entire city getting destroyed if it has even the faintest chance of succeeding. But unfortunately, this is purely speculative—the show never states this, and so, I can only leave it in the realm of fan interpretation.)

The show never answers this question, either, instead relying on the audience to suspend their disbelief some more and assume that Iliaster has put in the work and is 100% certain that the future can and will absolutely end in disaster unless they destroy NDC now. It almost acts like they have some sort of supernatural foresight; they know things nobody else in the show's world does, and due to this (and their non-human status) they label themselves as superior to the "foolish humans", who, without their guiding hands, will only bring about the apocalypse. But their superiority and the internal consistency of their actions is already wobbling under the weight of all the half-assed worldbuilding I mentioned above, which is an extra big problem due to another, major difference between the WRGP and the DS arc: While the DS arc stylised itself as a sort of funky genre mix between cyberpunk dystopia and urban fantasy (in a very broad sense, given that ancient Inca gods are very much real and their prophecies come to fruition in the modern day, yet we are not presented with any sort of magic outside of the conflict with the dark signers), the WRGP arc, aside from its tournament format, stylises itself much more as science fiction. The antagonists are no longer ancient, evil shadow gods, they're cyborgs from a destroyed future. Their motivation isn't as simple as wanting to destroy the world, either! In fact, they want to save the future! And they don't pose a threat to our antagonists through shadow duels in rings of fire and giant, magical monsters that sacrifice human souls to be summoned. No, they have advanced technology like high-tech robots that cut our protagonists off from one of their go-to tactical options, and they send out duel robot armies, and they travel through time by means of sophisticated wormhole-technology.

...But do they?

Now, I said I don't just want to complain here, I also want to provide solutions—and I intend to stick to that. But first, because these two things are so intrinsically tied together, let me address the final aspect that puts Team New World as antagonists and the WRGP arc on such shaky ground from a writing perspective.

3. Wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey, magic-science cyborg nonsense.

So, I've talked about the strongly differing methods the Iliaster trio uses in comparison to the dark signers. Sci-fi is the name of the game now, so we've got robots, cyborgs, advanced tech and... time travel. But amidst all this, you may have noticed something. Even though our plot is supposedly decided by futuristic tech now, the magical/occult element that was there in the first half of the show doesn't actually get dropped. Why? Because it can't be. Because the signers, our protagonists, are defined by their status as a group of magical chosen ones, hand-picked by an ancient Incan deity. Regardless of what the writers of the show wanted here (and my personal guess, based on hearsay and what I've read on forums, is that they wanted to hardcore-pivot to sci-fi because they hoped it would engage audiences more), this was an element they couldn't erase. (Or, well, technically, they could. The signers do lose their marks at the end of the show, after all. But perhaps they thought doing that earlier was too risky.) So genre-wise, we've got a bit of a situation here. From the pre-WRGP arc on, 5Ds is more of a sci-fi show, yet, we've still got all this occult stuff wandering around that can't be cut out of the narrative and still influences it because it's too intrinsically tied to our main actors not to. And you might have noticed that this actually doesn't just extend to the signers. As in, they're not the only ones where sci-fi and magic elements mix. This happens for the Iliaster trio, too. Placido gets a sword that can randomly cut a hole in space-time (and it's never explained how). The Meklords can cause real damage in duels even though they're supposedly not supernatural. Moment reactors can suddenly read people's hearts. Not one, but multiple cyborgs get a magical girl transformation where they change clothes and runners, or even combine from three people into one. And for some reason, the Crimson Dragon, even though its "own", central enemies, the dark signers, are already defeated, doesn't take its marks away from our heroes until after the cyborgs are taken care of, suggesting that the ancient, magical entity recognises the robots from the future as a supernatural threat of some sort. None of this is presented with any sort of attempt to get it to make sense, yet, we're supposed to believe it isn't magic, because we're all about robots and time travel now.

(Insert the magical girl transformation song of your choice.)

And I want to make one thing clear: I'm not saying this weird genre-mix couldn't have worked. In fact, I think it's hilarious and low-key brilliant even in the wonky state we got. Sure, let's make the antagonists robots from the future while keeping our protagonists the agents of an ancient Incan god on the mortal plane! If nothing else, you absolutely can't argue the idea wasn't original.

However, even with all the love I have for the show, I can't help but feel like there's an issue here, and the only way I could put it into words would be genre dissonance. We are supposedly in a sci-fi show now, yet the central antagonists, who are also the fundamental reason for this genre shift, seemingly can't decide whether they're actually using technology or magic for their schemes. And this becomes a problem insofar as that seemingly no effort to meaningfully fuse the fantastical elements with the pseudo-scientific ones is made, yet at the same time, they aren't properly separated, either. Specifically the latter might be harming the show even more than the former. Let me explain what I mean.

I'm no stranger to the fact that sci-fi sometimes likes to use technology that's supposed to be so advanced that to an outsider, it begins looking indistinguishable from magic. And in all fairness, that is probably what the 5Ds writers were gunning for. What hampers this a little, though, is that we're just coming from an arc that had actual magic in it, which leads to the allegedly scientific elements sending some mixed messages. Especially because they're never explained. And I'm not saying we needed super hardcore, internally fully consistent sci-fi worldbuilding here. Frankly, with all the weird nonsense 5Ds has already mostly handwaved by the start of the pre-WRGP arc, that would have been absurd. But I think a few explanations here and there, hell, even just the occasional off-handed remark, could have done a world of good for this arc, and especially for the Meklord dilemma and the setup of the ruined future. I don't need a whole breakdown on how exactly a reactor knows about the greed in people's hearts, but a remark somewhere on the side about how, for example, the particles that are the central player in that reactor also happen to be copious within the human heart (which would be impossible to prove, but ignore that) would have been nice. And I don't need a full breakdown of how the robot army was built; a throwaway remark that humanity created it as weapons in their supposedly endless, petty wars could have been cool, though.

My point is, fundamentally, that unlike the occult nonsense, which can skirt by on prophecies and simple, black-and-white, good VS evil stuff, the sci-fi elements feel like they demand a surface-level justification for their existence, at least. A surface-level justification they didn't get. And this is without addressing the much, much bigger problem that may actually be the root cause of most, if not all the things I've listed above so far: The time travel.

I don't think it's any sort of new, groundbreaking opinion to say that time travel is a notoriously finicky worldbuilding element that many writers, regardless of medium and/or skill, have already massively shot themselves in the foot with. And unfortunately, I feel like this has happened in 5Ds, too. Specifically because the time travel has seemingly absolutely no limits. The Iliaster trio (and even Paradox) can seemingly be everywhere they want, in any time period, and do whatever they want/deem necessary. Worse yet, the time travel is actively shown to have massive consequences more than once. And I think it's under the weight of this massive, utterly uncontrollable element that the plot really begins to collapse. Because frankly, with the implications we're given, things just really don't look good in a universe where limitless time travel can be used! Let me circle back to two questions from above to really emphasise this: Why are these guys so utterly convinced that this "repair", of all the ones they've already done, will save their future? How can they know that this particular plan will work when they've supposedly already tried everything? In a universe with limitless time travel, these questions become an absolute mess to deal with. And the real problem is that canon never even entertains the idea of answering them. Sure, you can begin to fill in the gaps for yourself if you feel like it. Maybe it's not that all the previous "repairs" Iliaster did truly didn't work, maybe they brought about even worse futures and that was the reason why they were discarded. Or maybe there's a hidden in-universe rule that people from the future who go back to the past actually don't have the power to change anything, as in, no matter what they change, it will never affect their present, because their actions will always loop back around to causing the same things they already know. But there. Precisely there is the problem. I'm not getting this from canon, I'm making it up from scratch. And sure, all stories have gaps—that's where a lot of fanfiction lives, after all. But when you reach the point where you have so many gaps that the audience can no longer suspend its disbelief over these gaps, that's when there's a problem. And the WRGP arc, for all that its antagonists are extremely compelling, pose genuine, moral dilemmas, and for all that it resolves in one of the best arcs of 5Ds, has precisely this problem for me. The worldbuilding is stretched too thin, and my suspension of disbelief breaks and leaves me wondering why so many good themes have to be buried in an arc that is this frustrating to watch sometimes.

*deep breath*

Okay. So now I've aired all my grievances and laid out all the problems that make me shake my fists in frustration at this arc, at the Meklords, and at the Team New World duel. What about the productive part, then, you might ask. I did say I wanted to provide solutions, as far as I can, anyway. How would I try to solve this mess?

Well, honestly, I think the solution here, at least to me, would be fairly basic: More consistency. Make it make sense. The genre mashup can stay exactly the way it is, but maybe tone down the magic on the cyborgs a bit. Make them actual cyborgs. Even if their tech is justified through bullshit, at least justify it. Why does Placido have a reality-splitting sword? Oh, it's actually the Moment Express wormhole technology in miniature. Why can Moment reactors see into people's hearts? Well, duh, they contain the same, special particles as human hearts. Why is there an army of robots in the future to begin with? Humans built it. For war. Like they did so much else. And why did the reactor use it against them? Because it was just responding to their own negativity. Their own, constant desire for strife and petty conflicts amongst one another made them actually turn the weapons against themselves (or rather, against the people they personally didn't like, which ends up being everyone when everyone has a grudge against someone) through the reactor. (The show almost does this one, but not quite.) How do the three emperors of Iliaster know destroying NDC, specifically, will fix the future? They don't! They're doing this on trial and error, and more importantly—and I think this would work best if it was introduced purposefully late—they can't actually save the future by changing the past, because they're not from the past. They just don't actually know that this is a rule of time travel.

None of these fixes would have to be big, episode-spanning things. Off-handed remarks would have been enough. But I think just that could have saved many points from becoming the plotholes they did.

And with that, I think I'll finally leave you be, I've rambled quite enough. To anyone who has made it all the way to the end, I can only give a sincere, heartfelt thank you. I realise this is a LOT of words. Moreover, I'd like to leave you with one more statement: Though I can absolutely understand if this post comes off as me getting on a soapbox and cupping my hands around my mouth before yelling, it's not meant to be. I absolutely invite discussion about the the handling of, the themes behind, and all the arguments I gave regarding the Meklord worldbuilding and the Team New World duel. So, feel every bit as free as I did to yell about this. This post encourages yelling.

#yugioh 5ds #ygo 5ds #5ds #yugioh meta #Team New World #Aporia (5Ds)#meklords #orchid rambles #I just realised this post reads like a whole-ass youtube video essay #shows what I've been watching recently #anyway this isn't getting any more coherent than this #I have too many thoughts to be able to stay coherent at this point #so just take it

40 notes · View notes