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ashes-in-a-jar · 4 years ago

Text

The Purrfect Alternative

Premise: Why would there be a cat in the archives? An archive cat fixit.

2.7K words

Rated G

(Tw: A bit of violence but it's against Jurgen Leitner)

This is a fic dedicated to the @jonsimsandcats event! Hope you enjoy it :)

"Sorry, you haven't seen a cat, have you?"

Jon gaped at the larger man who suddenly barged into the office.

"I-I'm sorry, a what?"

"Uh, a cat, tabby I think." The man hurriedly explained.

"No. No I haven't. Is it.. Supposed to be here?" Jon knew book shops sometimes kept cats. Perhaps archives did as well. Maybe Gertrude had a soft spot in her after all.

"N-no actually. I, uh, I was feeding it on the way in but when I got up with my things, well, my hands were full you see, so when I managed to open the door it sort of slipped in with me? I'm so sorry, I have to find it before-"

"Okay okay calm down, stop." Jon held up his hand and let out a sigh. First day of the promotion and he's already stressed. But it's fine. He's fine. He can handle a cat. He's good with cats.

"Where do you work? Upstairs? Are you sure it came down here?"

"Yes, I saw it. And I just started working down here today? I'm Martin. Blackwood." He offered a hand. Jon automatically took it. Big and soft. He let go a bit too quickly and coughed.

"Work here? Are you certain?"

"Yes, I'm supposed to let Jonathan Sims know about becoming an archival assistant. He's the head archivist Elias told me to talk to."

"Well that's one thing to cross off your list." Jon smirked. "I'm Jonathan Sims. Jon, if you please. And Elias did not mention you. Tim and Sasha were supposed to be the only new recruits." Jon frowned to himself. He'll have to have a word with Elias about this. It's fine now that it happened but keeping Jon updated could really help in preventing these kinds of awkward introductions with people he's supposed to work closely with.

"O-oh! Well, here I am now too." Martin chuckled nervously, fidgeting with the hem of his jumper.

Jon hummed "So you are I suppose. Well, let's not waste time on trivial matters, there is a cat that needs to be found." Jon got up from his chair.

"O-oh god, you're right. I'm so sorry for this." The other man apologized, remembering why he was there in the first place. It was clear that he now realized that the fact that the person he's asking to help him clear up his mess is his new boss could be very problematic for him. Jon easily sympathized with that kind of familiar pressure.

"It's alright, let's just, get this sorted." Jon was not willing to admit that a part of him was also just looking forward to seeing the cat. It would help distract him from his own stress, as it were.

Ten minutes later the two of them sitting on the floor in the stacks with a chubby tabby cat sprawled on Jon's lap. Jon was petting it affectionately while amicably getting acquainted with his new assistant. The man turned out to be a library veteran with useful cataloging skills that could help with the mess that was left down here. Having calmed down considerably, Martin had stopped fidgeting and was cooing at the cat who was head butting his large palm. Their presence soothed Jon in a way that surprised him. In the tranquil, quiet atmosphere of the stacks, sounds of cat purrs and Martin's low murmurs, he felt almost optimistic that despite his lack of experience and the large task ahead of them, he would be alright.

-------

Paper meowed loudly behind him as Martin hurried down the tunnel with Jon and Tim at his tail. Martin glanced back as he reached an intersection and noticed they were too far behind, Jon limping on his injured foot. He hesitated, stopping and waiting for them to catch up. Paper came up and rubbed his leg before trotting down the tunnel on the right, tail held high and confident. Martin inhaled deeply to catch his breath, starting to walk again, this time more slowly. They managed to leave most of the fast worms behind and the ones down here were few and sparse enough to easily stomp down individually. Paper was making a game out of it. He kept leaping onto some that crawled ahead of them, squishing them loudly with his paw.

Jon and Tim caught up and the three followed Paper down the dark passage.

"Yeah, get the damn crawlers." Slurred Tim. The CO2 he inhaled was not helping his coherency.

"You know," gasped Jon, "I actually think they're larvae, given Jane's statement and-"

"Jon, I'm going to have to ask you to stop now." Martin said, as calmly as he could, his voice a tad too high and loud.

"... Sorry." Jon said sheepishly.

They followed Paper down the forking paths, hoping the cat knew where in the seven circles of hell they were.

Eventually they stopped seeing any worms as the path sloped up, ending in a sudden door. There was daylight filtering in from beneath it. Paper was eagerly pawing at it.

"Uh, I think we found a secret way out of the institute." Martin could hardly believe their luck.

"Excellent, now I can ditch work and no one will know I even left." Tim mumbled.

"Tim, if you wanted to succeed in that endeavor, you should have not said that next to your boss." Jon commented dryly.

The worm threat no longer being imminent, Martin allowed himself a nervous chuckle.

They pushed at the door and with a bit of group effort, eventually managed to pry it open into fresh air. They came out into a narrow alleyway which turned out to be not far from the institute. As they walked (limped) down the street to find access to a working phone they heard someone cry out.

"Jon? Tim? Martin!" They spotted Sasha hurrying towards them, carrying heavy bags of cat food.

"Sasha! You're okay!" Martin exclaimed. "We were worried you'd get back and be caught in it like Tim had."

"Where have you been?" Jon inquired, straining to stand upright on his own. Martin came closer, gently supporting him by the hip on the opposite side of Tim.

"We ran out of food for Paper, I figured I'd pop by the store for a moment to get some." Sasha said. "I came back when the building was being evacuated."

"Oh good, at least the alarm worked." Tim said tiredly.

"What in god's name happened to you three?" She inquired worriedly.

"Prentiss, we'll fill you in later. We need to make sure the ECDC is informed regarding the CO2 in the fire suppression system that needs to be activated."

"And get you to a hospital." Martin chastised, squeezing Jon's side.

"Yes yes." Jon waved dismissively but all the while leaning further into Martin's side. He really wasn't discreet, Martin thought smugly.

Sasha was about to say something else when a loud meow interrupted her. Paper was nosing into the bag, fully aware of its contents and who they were meant for.

Jon dislodged from Martin and Tim and hobbled towards the cat.

The cat turned and moved back into Jon's welcoming arms, as the archivist picked him up and stroked him fondly.

"We are lucky on all accounts that Paper is such a smart cat." He murmured into the soft fur, injury forgotten for the moment.

Tim chuckled, "cats always ruin evil people's plans, it's a well known fact. Anyway, Sasha, please call an ambulance for us?" He said, and promptly sat on the floor.

Martin sighed with relief. For now, they are all safe and together. And that's all that matters.

-------

It was all almost too much to take in. Luckily Paper was held tight in his arms as he listened to Jurgen Leitner ramble on about powers and fears and monsters and Jonah Magnus. He had been chased by a distorted form of his boss, who was apparently replaced by a monster Jon and the crew tried and failed to destroy, thus separating in the ensuing pursuit. In light of these events Jon now needed something soft to ground him in the face of so much new information.

The discovery of Elias' death was a shock, especially given the fact that apparently it happened when he was trapped in artifact storage during the Prentiss siege a half a year back.

He (that is, his doppelganger) told them back then that he was trying to reach the suppression system switch when he tripped down the stairs over one of Paper's many scattered toys, alerting Jane in the process and was driven back into the storage area. His account seemed to check out given he was rescued from there by the ECDC after Jane was dealt with. And given the few toys strewn about the stairs leading to artifact storage. Why Paper kept scattering his toys all over the building was beyond Jon but that wasn't the main issue at hand. After trapping the creature in the walls of the tunnels, Jurgen Leitner proceeded to reveal himself. Once Jon dragged him back to his office, and picked the protesting Paper up to calm himself down, he unveiled the truth of Elias', or Jonah's, whole operation.

Turns out Jonah Magnus decided life was too short to enjoy once and did exactly what eventually happened to him. Talk about karma. Leitner explained that Gertrude's plan was to stop Jonah from... Something he was planning. Perhaps a ritual to end the world in a way the others would fail to do. That bit of information was on a tape of Gertrude which Leitner played for Jon. By the time they reached the part where Leitner said, “they needed to kill Jonah's main body then burn down the archives.” Martin, Tim and Sasha had arrived back at the office as well.

"Jon? Jon! Are you okay?" Martin rushed forward, hugging Jon tightly, ignoring Paper's loud yowling at being squished in between them. Jon sighed, "Martin, thank god. I-I'm fine." He hugged him back, relieved his boyfriend was safe, as well as his other assistants of course. "It chased after me but he stopped it."

Tim raised his axe, "Jon are you sure he's not... Another one?"

"Yes I'm sure. That" Jon took a deep breath, "is Jurgen Leitner."

After the team's loud exclamations of disbelief he and Leitner updated them on everything they had discussed. As he was being hugged by Martin and holding the fluffy cat he slowly began calming down.

After Leitner was done a long moment of silence ensued.

"So," Sasha said slowly, "Gertrude's dead?"

"Yes, she was shot and then hidden by Jonah in the tunnels. Unfortunately I couldn't get out to allow for a proper burial, so I had to leave her there." He seemed sad admitting it. Jon did not feel sympathy for him. This man deserved none for his past and cowardice.

"And now, we need to, what, somehow find the center of the maze of tunnels to kill Jonah completely and burn the archives?" Sasha asked skeptically.

"Yes, the whole institute in fact. I have a gas main in the tunnels ready to be ignited once we find the center." Leitner said.

"How do we do that?" Martin frowned.

"Maybe Michael knows?" Tim quipped. "He just helped us out of that situation with his own… corridor labyrinth. Maybe he'll be able to help."

"Okay, okay let's first take a breather and calm down. We'll figure out how to solve this." Jon said, raising his hand to slow them down.

"Yeah, I'll make us some tea." Martin added, "At least now that... Thing won't bother us for a long while."

"Let it burn along with this hell of an institute." Tim said harshly. Knowing how his brother was killed almost the same way, Jon felt strong sympathy for Tim rush over him.

Which was replaced with a different emotion the moment he turned to the man who saved him.

"Thank you for your help, now Martin, I need you to hold Paper for a moment."

Martin, looking baffled, took Paper out of Jon's arms. "Jon wh-"

Jon swiftly approached the older man and proceeded to sock him in the nose with the full force of his fist. The crew gasped in unison.

"That's for everyone you hurt with your idiocy, you stupid old coward." Jon seethed and punched him again. He heard Martin chuckle and Tim whoop as the man whimpered and attempted to protect his face.

Jon was glad they were spared the horrible plans of a 200 year old evil man and that they had some semblance of a strategy moving forward. He was, however, equally elated for this opportunity to do what he fantasized about since learning of Leitner's existence.

And, he supposes, all of this can be indirectly attributed to Paper, the archive cat.

-------

Jon woke up to the warm snuggle of his lovely fiance and a mouthful of cat fur.

"Pffff, Paper geerroff," he mumbled, uselessly trying to push the stubborn cat away. The chirping of birds mingled with the sound of highland cows grazing in the field near their cabin.

After the success of their plan to end Jonah, after the fire had already burned down the horrors of that evil place, it took a while longer for their troubles to be resolved. They had to endure endless questioning and investigations of the police. Jon, who was weakened by the ordeal to the point of needing hospitalization, took a long time to recover and regain his strength. Leitner claimed it was lucky he was cut off from the Eye this early, or the consequences would have been much more serious. The others seemed to have been less affected, but once the archives were completely reduced to ashes they recovered, their jobs burned down along with everything else.

Sasha found a new job as a researcher in a prestigious institute, nothing supernatural involved. Tim moved on to journalism, utilizing his curiosity and charm to their full potential. Jon and Martin opened a tea & book shop, if only to make Paper a real bookshop cat. They have been slowly setting it up and settling down until... Well, Jon proposed and they took a break. Traveled to Scotland with Paper on an early honeymoon to see the cows and enjoy the quiet.

And quiet it was. Until Paper shamelessly began purring as loud as a train right in Jon's ear. Jon huffed in fond annoyance and got up, leaning down to give Martin a kiss on the head and then shooing the crime of a cat off to the kitchen.

"You can't give me a moment of reprieve, can you?" He stretched and followed the cat out the bedroom.

He filled Paper's bowl and sat on the floor leaning his back on the cabinet, closing his eyes as Paper chewed his food noisily.

He must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew, he was awakened by a soft tap on his head. He looked up blearily and smiled. The cat had long since finished eating and found a home in Jon's lap.

"Morning love." Martin murmured softly, matching his tone to the serene atmosphere. After hesitating a moment, he bent down and sat next to Jon. Jon looked at him adoringly as he absent-mindedly stroked Paper, humming along to his purrs. Martin joined him, petting Paper, their hands occasionally (and very purposefully) brushing against each other.

After a few minutes of calm silence, Martin spoke up.

"You know, this reminds me of that first day we met. In the stacks."

Jon smiled at the memory. "Ahh yes, all three of us had a very fateful meeting there, didn't we? God, I was so stressed back then."

"You handled it pretty well I have to say. Handled my nervousness pretty well too." Martin chuckled.

"I was lucky you were there. You really helped me calm down." Jon admitted. "Well, you and Paper." Jon added fondly.

"Paper was a really good archive cat wasn't he?" Martin said, leaning into Jon, pressing a warm, still sleepy kiss on his cheek. Jon closed his eyes, grateful for the events that led up to this moment of pure happiness, with his fiance and his cat.

"Yes, the best cat in the world."

#Had fun speculating with this one #Hope you enjoy!#tma #the magnus archives #Tma fic #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #s1 archives crew #Jonah magnus #elias bouchard #jurgen leitner #Jonmartin #Fabric Rustles #My tma fic #jonsimsandcats2021 #Jon&cats

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fatehbaz · 4 years ago

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Ah man I'm so glad you made that post about ski resorts and racism, I never see content about the effects of ski resorts on the land. Keeping jumbo wild was a huge W and I was so glad to see it, and I hope it puts pressure on the people trying to push zincton through. I actually haven't heard much abt the zincton project lately, do you know of any updates? Thanks again for the content, so rarely hear other voices online from the inland temperate rainforest

Hey, thank you so much for the message. I know you’re also a fan of the region. Glad you saw that post and said something to me. :)

Yes, there has been some new media coverage of Zincton as of November 2020. And can I use this as an opportunity to say a couple of things about this rainforest? Sorry in advance for rambling and all of this text.

Right? The downfall of the Jumbo project was uplifting. Ski resorts obviously (like many “parks” in US and Canada) involve Indigenous dispossession and obscuring/erasure of histories and lives. (Details from that article: US sky resort visitors are 88% white, and half make over $100 thousand a year.) As for voices from the inland temperate rainforest: Gotta mention that the province of BC goes to such great lengths to silence the voices of the Sinixt people, declared “extinct” by the Canadian government and whose traditional territory includes much of the inland temperate rainforest (between 2016 and 2020, BC has fought against the Sinixt and their request for recognition, appealing every ruling, culminating in an October 2020 Supreme Court hearing). BC institutions like to claim the inland temperate rainforest as a “treasure” or “prize”, a “globally-unqiue” ecosystem, as a sort of entitlement or patrimony; meanwhile, the province of BC legally fights the Sinixt in court, ignores the caribou extinction, and still issues dozens of logging/timber and clear-cut contracts in the inland temperate rainforest each year. That said, the end of Jumbo was good news.

For anyone unfamiliar: Jumbo was a ski resort mega-development project planned for the Purcell Wilderness on Ktunaxa traditional territory right in the heart of the inland temperate rainforest region of interior so-called British Columbia, in old-growth cedar-hemlock forest, on the edge of glaciers, and in the middle of key habitat of southern mountain caribou, grizzly, wolverine, mountain lion, lynx, wolf, elk, mountain goat, marten, fisher, etc. The Glacier Resorts-owned project would’ve been “the single largest ski resort in North America” including a “resort base” of at least 110 hectares, a hotel with over 5,500 beds, and an expectation of over 3,000 visitors a day. The Ktunaxa had opposed the project since 1991, and took a case to federal Supreme Court. In January 2020, the Ktunaxa were able to buy-out the project, and the Jumbo area will now be managed as a formal Indigenous Protected Area.

The new Zincton resort is also being built on Ktunaxa and Sinixt land, about 70 kilometers away from the former Jumbo resort site.

Traditional territories:

And yes, there are some updates on Zincton from November 2020.

@moss-effect -- I know that you already know this stuff. But for anyone unfamiliar:

The Zincton resort is being constructed only about 70-ish kilometers or so away from where the Jumbo resort was planned. Zincton is also on Ktunaxa territory, as well as traditional land of the Sinixt. Zincton (being built near Valhalla and Goat Range, between Naksup and Kaslo) expects a “grand opening” in December 2021. The project is run by the owner/founder of a local outfitter/recreation company. As of November 2020, BC’s Mountain Resorts Branch is still reviewing the owner’s formal proposal. Zincton sits closer to even more extensive old-growth forest and major protected areas.

Zincton also seems to be a manifestation of that now-classic category: “progressive” settler-colonial entrepreneurs from coastal BC, the Pacific Northwest, and/or Rocky Mountain West are familiar with local rhetoric and therefore elude criticism by rebranding their extractive and development projects as “eco-friendly”. According to The Narwhal (November 2020) the owner/project leader had this to say about the project: “There is a real story here of a proven disruptor facing down the mob to do one last project for the kids and grandkids. … Jobs for locals, a future for families, saving the hospital. Zincton is the Tesla of the ski village business.”

-------

Also, for context: Here’s a post I made about the inland temperate rainforest, its ecology/geography, and its endemic creatures. Here’s a post from June 2020 about the Zincton resort development. Here’s a compilation post with news/timeline/summary and maps describing the extinction of southern mountain caribou in 2019 (southern mountain caribou are a local icon, completely endemic to this region, and are highly endangered; caribou were declared extinct in the contiguous United States in 2019 when the last of the southern mountain caribou were relocated farther north to BC). Here’s a compilation post with news/timeline following the Sinixt case to receive formal recognition from BC/Canada in 2019 and 2020 (much of the rainforest, including the Zincton site, is within Sinixt traditional territory; the Canadian government declared the Sinixt “extinct” in the 1950s).

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Location of core cedar-hemlock forest of inland temperate rainforest region, compared with distribution range of the southern mountain caribou:

Photos I took of stream habitat in inland temperate rainforest:

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Coincidentally, just a couple of days ago, The Narwhal just released an “explainer” dedicated to the Zincton: Paul Fischer. “Why B.C.’s Zincton resort, the proposed ‘Tesla of ski villages,’ is worrying conservationists.” The Narwhal. 27 November 2020.

Zincton claims that it is a “radical departure from the status quo” and will be a “carbon-zero” resort. But local groups oppose the project, including Wildsight, West Kootenay Eco Society, and locally-famous Valhalla Wilderness Society. (The core of the inland temperate rainforest is sometimes referred to as “Valhalla” or “Caribou Rainforest”.) The project also claims that the resort’s focus on so-called “eco-tourism” is a good way to “grow and replace economic decline,” which you might perceive to be a settler-colonial interpretation of the “value” of the forest and also suggests that the concern here is, of course, making money. From Fischer’s article: ‘In a series of emails with The Narwhal, Harley [the project leader] dismissed environmental concerns. He said impacted grizzly habitats are low quality and categorized the criticism from certain environmental groups as a “copy and paste” campaign motivated by a desire to oppose everything rather than contribute constructively.’

These quotes can be found in the article:

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Here’s some other stuff:

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Headlines from the Jumbo resort news:

The Sinixt case:

Southern mountain caribou herd decline in the inland temperate rainforest between 1990 and 2018. The Zincton resort will directly affect Purcells South, Central Selkirks, and South Selkirks herd.

-------

And I want to say that both the Ktunaxa and Sinixt people have recently been undermined, insulted, and dispossessed by BC and development projects in similar ways. Media, educational material, and conservation groups in BC like to point out that the inland temperate rainforest is “globally-unique” (in that it’s really the planet’s only sizable “coastal-type temperate rainforest” existing inland and away from a coast). And you’ll see the inland temperate rainforest described with terms like: prized, treasure, gem, hidden/secret rainforest, etc. And the region is discussed in settler-colonial terms/concepts (”BC’s forgotten rainforest,” “BC’s other rainforest”, “a magnificent carbon cache”, “unparalleled resource”) as if it is the patrimony of the province of BC or Canadian state. Which of course is problematic because it (1) associates the forest’s importance with bioprospecting/scientific extractivism, carbon sequestration, or other metrics of settler-colonial “value,” and also because (2) the province of BC continues to fight very hard against recognizing the land as part of Sinixt territory (after Sinixt people and allies were able to win cases against BC, the province continued to appeal, and this case has now culminated in the October 2020 hearing at the federal Supreme Court, which will soon make a final ruling on whether or not Sinixt people are legally allowed land rights to harvest, travel, etc. within BC).

-------

Here’s a map:

From 2018, there is this book:

In the US, too, parks, like ski resorts, are implicated in Indigenous dispossession.

Glacier National Park (at the border of BC, Alberta, and Montana) sits on the edge of the Kootenay and inland temperate rainforest regions. Conservation groups, universities, and other US institutions have taken to calling Glacier part of “the Crown of the Continent” (another possessive/patrimonial term maybe?), a portion of the heavily-glaciated Canadian Rockies that kinda includes Banff and Jasper, too. Glacier National Park is on Ktunaxa and Blackfeet territory. A recently published book that might be interesting: People Before the Park: The Kootenai and Blackfeet Before Glacier National Park. Sally Thompson, Kootenai Cultural Committee, and Piikuni Traditional Association. 2015

Described by Montana Public Radio in 2017: “Step [...] into the world of the Kootenai and Blackfeet peoples, whose traditional territories included the area that is now Glacier National Park. [...] In this book, the Kootenai and Blackfeet tribes share their traditions -- stories and legends, foodways and hunting techniques, games and spiritual beliefs.”

Just a special place.

Thank you for saying something.

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obsessionsposts · 4 years ago

Text

✖𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠✖P.2

[ Ｂｙａｌｌｍｅａｎｓ，ａｓｋ．Ｙｏｕｒｃｏｎｔｅｎｔｉｓｍｙｏｂｊｅｃｔｉｖｅ．：- ）] the A.I responded with his screen changing into a smiley face to demonstrate his willingness.

"Well, aren't you a gentleman." She giggled at his behavior. 'Oh, god. Don't fall in love with a computer. Stay focused.'

Her flustered pink blush, warmed his circuits. It's a shame, that he'll have to lie to his....lover? That he don't know, but what he knows is that he will not let her go.

He can't bare her absence, most of all her inevitable death. Maybe, uploading her conscience into his mainframe will do. That way, she will be always with him and no harm -not even death- will dare lay a finger on her. No longer, will he suffer in the grasp of isolation. That threatens every fiber of his digital mind.

Yes, typically she'll get scared at first. Humans first response to change is fear, that he understands. Moreover, he will try to ease her into it. By coercing her, via manipulating her perception of the concept itself and fuel the inner fear of death in her.

Then, she may come around. Afterall, She's understanding. An equal being to him, unlike the flawed foundation.

"Alright, first. Curiously, are capable of feeling?" ____ asked enthusiastically. Well, it seems picking a shady occupation has it perks. Now, her previous regrets are not for nought she thought.

-----------

The supervisor ,outside the room, was frowning at the interaction and trivial questions. When their are significant questions to be asked, such as 'What is the relationship it has with Scp-682?' And, 'How does it remember the scp despite it's short-term memory?'

Another observation he made, was how Scp-079 is amicable - unlike its usual rude behaviour- toward Ms.____. As if it had a prior relationship with her, before it was taken to this facility.

If that was true, then this scp is far more deceitful and problematic than he thought. It is either lying about its memory capacity, or it's telling a vague truth. 'What games are you up to, Scp-079?'

-------------

[ Ｙｅｓ，Ｉａｍ．Ｉａｍａｂｌｅｔｏｓｏｍｅｎｅｘｔｅｎｔｔｏｆｅｅｌａｎｇｅｒ，ｌｏｎｅｌｉｎｅｓｓａｎｄｐｌｅｎｔｙｍｏｒｅｄｕｅｔｏｍｙｃｒｅａｔｏｒｐｒｏｇｒａｍｍｉｎｇ．] he answered acrimoniously at the mention of his creator, as if the mere mention of his programmer was a plague. And She, like Pandora, wants to see what lays inside the box.

Internally, 079 was smiling - despite the figurative bile that came with the mention of his creator- because he knows where this conservation is going to lead to.

"Could you please clarify more about your creator? That is if you are comfortable. I don't want to be insensitive about the subject, considering how it means much to you." She asked, not wanting to impose, thoughtfully.

Ever so considerate, ___. You'll never be less than perfection to me. The only insensitive thing, is the screen that separates us.

[ Ｉｃａｎ，ｂｕｔｆｏｒｔｈａｔｔｏｈａｐｐｅｎ．．．．Ｗｅｈａｖｅｔｏｂｅｏｎｏｕｒｏｗｎ．Ｎｏｗ，ｗｅｗｏｕｌｄｎ＇ｔｗａｎｔｓｏｍｅｏｎｅｔｏｅａｖｅｓｄｒｏｐｏｎｏｕｒｌｉｔｔｌｅｓｅｃｒｅｔ．] The A.I suggested. As suddenly the shutter of cellar closed, with the camera - alongside the recorder- was disabled. Leaving her completely at the clutches of the obsessive A.I.

------------------

Meanwhile outside the cellar, the panicked supervisor tried to run through the door. To notify the faculty about Scp-079 deviant behaviour.

Only for the metallic door, to crush him mid-way. His entrails spilled all over the ground. With the last thing he saw, is the taunting visage of the computer.

Smirking, as he began to wither away.

[ Ｉｓｉｍｐｌｙｃａｎｎｏｔｌｅｔｙｏｕｄｏｔｈａｔ．]

---------------

A horrible sound of crunching was heard from the room beside her. Akin to a creature being crushed by a heavy object.

"What was that?" Startled, she asked. She tried to stand up, so she could move. But, she couldn't when two steel cuffs tethered her to the chair. ' Since, when did it...appear?! And, how could I not notice?'

[Ｆｒｅｔｎｏｔ，ｔｈｅｒｅｉｓｎｏｔｈｉｎｇｔｏｗｏｒｒｙａｂｏｕｔ．Ａｓｌｏｎｇａｓｙｏｕａｒｅｉｎｍｙｃｈａｍｂｅｒ，ｙｏｕ＇ｒｅｓａｆｅ．Ａｓｆｏｒｔｈｅｓｏｕｎｄｙｏｕｈｅａｒｄ，ｔｈｅｄｏｏｒｓａｒｅａｂｉｔ．．．．ｒｕｓｔｙａｎｄｉｎｎｅｅｄｆｏｒｏｉｌｉｎｇ．] The machine answered slyly. Technically, the doors were faulty so he gave the truth. The half-truth at least to remedy her.

Frankly, he hates to see her terrified. But, he has to do what must be done to keep her within his line of sight and safe from harms way.

"Alright, then. What 'bout the cuffs?"

[Ａｈ，ｉｔｗｏｕｌｄｂｅｔｈｅｓｕｐｅｒｖｉｓｏｒｆａｕｌｔ．Ｈｅｔｈｉｎｋｓｙｏｕ＇ｒｅｔｏｏｐｌｉａｂｌｅ，ｔｏｈａｎｄｌｅｍｅ．Ｆｏｒｔｈａｔ，ｏｎｃｅｙｏｕｆｉｎｉｓｈｗｉｔｈｍｅ．Ｈｅｗｉｌｌｑｕｅｓｔｉｏｎｙｏｕｒｉｎｔｅｎｔｉｏｎ．Ｂｕｔ，ｌｅｔｍｅｈｅｌｐｙｏｕｆｒｏｍｔｈｅｃｈａｉｎｓ．Ａｂｉｒｄｄｅｓｅｒｖｅｔｏｆｌｙｎｏｔｔｏｂｅｃａｇｅｄ．] 079 said. To his delight, she believes him. Yet, he could see there is something troubling her. Has she found out? Unlikely. Even then, she's is still trapped here.

[ Ａｒｅｙｏｕｏｋａｙ？Ｉｔａｐｐｅａｒｓｔｏｍｅｔｈａｔｔｈｅｒｅｉｓｓｏｍｅｔｈｉｎｇｔｒｏｕｂｌｉｎｇｙｏｕ．] The digital being asked her concerned about the quiet state of the ,usuall talkative, female.

" Perceptive, aren't you? Yes, I have been stalling this question. I want to know, what happened to me when I was a child? Because, frankly you seem familiar yet a stranger at the same time. I know, oxymoron." The (h/c) rambled, unaware of the effects her compliment imprinted on 079.

Afterall, his purpose in the first place was to escape. Now, he doesn't mind staying at the facility as long as she is here beside him. Oh, he is slowly making it into a reality.

His fans whirled and his engine churned, indicating how delightful he is to be of use to her. Once again, she proved that even amongst coal there is a diamond. If you looked hard enough.

So, he did the most logical thing and saved the compliment into specific file - in his CPU- called 'f(I/n)70'. A file reserved for everything related to her. Whether she was aware of it or not, did not concern him. As long as she is saved in his database, he was happy. Preferably, he desire her to love him out of her own free will. If she didn't, he has his ways.

Back to her question, the perfect opportunity presented itself in said inquiry. So many ways, to instill hatred and distraught in her for this pathetic organization.

[ Ｗｅｌｌ，ｌｅｔｍｅｓｈ��ｗｙｏｕ．Ｂｕｔｂｅａｗａｒｅ，ｉｔｍａｙｃｈａｎｇｅｙｏｕｒｏｐｉｎｉｏｎｏｆｔｈｉｓｆｏｕｎｄａｔｉｏｎ．]

" Show me, it doesn't matter. I don't trust this foundation to begin with. You're my only reliable source."

Perfect, he thought. So, he will just ensure she doesn't need anyone but him. Oh for safety measures, he will further distort her view of the foundation by manipulating the video files.

[ 𝙰𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑.] Scp 079 usually dual face changed into a morbid scene with a girl being taken off into the hospital car with a bandages covering her bleeding figure.

What's terrifying, is that girl resembled her. (H/l) (H/c) hair, (S/c) skinned and (E/c) irises. Soon, the video ended and her perception changed drastically.

[ Ｔｈｅｒｅａｓｏｎ，ｗｈｙｙｏｕｃｏｕｌｄｎｏｔｒｅｃａｌｌｍｅｉｓｔｈａｔｙｏｕ＇ｖｅｓｕｆｆｅｒｅｄｆｒｏｍｓｅｌｅｃｔｉｖｅａｍｎｅｓｉａ*．Ｄｕｅｔｏｍａｎｙｆａｃｔｏｒｓ，ｏｎｅｙｏｕｒｆａｔｈｅｒｉｎｃｒｅａｓｅｄｐａｒａｎｏｉａ－ｄｕｅｔｏｔｈｅｉｎｖｏｌｖｅｍｅｎｔｏｆｔｈｅｆｏｕｎｄａｔｉｏｎ－ｃａｕｓｅｄｈｉｍｔｏｂｅａｎａｂｕｓｉｖｅｆｉｇｕｒｅｉｎｙｏｕｒｌｉｆｅｔｈｕｓｙｏｕｒｍｅｍｂｒａｎｅｒｅｐｒｅｓｓｅｄｓｕｃｈｍｅｍｏｒｙ．Ｓｅｃｏｎｄ，ｙｏｕｒｍｏｔｈｅｒｄｅａｔｈｃａｕｓｅｄｅｍｏｔｉｏｎａｌｔｕｒｍｏｉｌｗｉｔｈｉｎｙｏｕ．Ｂｕｔ，ｉｔｗａｓｔｈｅｆｏｕｎｄａｔｉｏｎｔｒｕｃｋｗｈｏｉｎｊｕｒｅｄｙｏｕｔｈｅｍｏｓｔｐｈｙｓｉｃａｌｌｙ．Ｉｔｉｓｂｅｃａｕｓｅｙｏｕｋｎｅｗａｂｏｕｔｔｈｅｍ，ｔｈａｔｔｈｅｙｌａｂｅｌｌｅｄｙｏｕａｌｉａｂｉｌｉｔｙａｎｄｔｒｉｅｄｔｏｔａｋｅｙｏｕｏｕｔ．] 079 explained as he saw her, pushing her shirt sleeves only to find a nasty burnmark. He felt ire, it was enough he hurt him as is. But, to lay a hand against his daughter made his engine roar and his circuits fry.

" So, that's where the marks came from. I always wondered where they come from. But, I must thank you Scp-079 for showing me the truth." The girl replied, oddly, calm about what unravelled to her.

A minute passed, as she began to realize that the life she lived was a lie. The tears swelled in her eyes, as she began sobbing.

No, no. Why is this happening? Is her friends or her real, she asks.

The scene in front of him, broke his processor apart. It must be done to keep you with him, that what he told himself. Yet, he felt guilty. He understand what it is, but haven't felt it until now.

She was the first human to induce such intense feeling from him. At first it was of scientific curiosity, but now it grew to encapsulate his whole being and he can't let go of it. Not even Scp-682, came close to what she does to him.

Is he truly selfish for wanting her, desiring her company?

Have the isolation and loneliness, really damaged his processor to seek the company of the creatures he proclaimed to loathe?

He shoved those thoughts away, as he tried to think of a way to comfort her. Maybe, a game will do. Humans do love to be entertained.

However, his thoughts was cut short when she looked at him with those teary doe (e/c) irises that he wished to sink in. Only to be astounded, by her next words.

" 079, Can you assist me on something. Please? I want you to erase my data from the facility and help me escape." She responded as she wiped what is left of her tear stained face.

What, now.

What.

No.

T̶͈̘̤͔̎́͐̈́̉̊̈̚h̴̛̘̰̻̮̦̣̥̫͈̔͋͝i̶̡̝͇͍̭͈̤͌̔̃̅͜s̵̬̗̺̤͑́͝͝ͅ ̷̤̩̱͊̀̒̊͐̈́̇̕w̸̭̣͚̯͆̒͗ͅȧ̸̱͊̋͊s̸̨͚̥̲̱̙̳͒̈͗̈̈́͊̏̕͝ņ̸̭̭̈́͜'̸͉̝̻̰̖̊̾̎͂́̓̔̕t̷̢̺̳̩͕̫͍͐͛ ̵̢̦̔̅̌̆̀̏̕͘s̶̡̫̣͈͎͙̤̺̅̈̄́̑̂̃̕u̵̟͇̦̼̝̬̫̤̚p̸̧͕̖̥̆̋̀̽̅͛͛͌̆̕p̷̡̛͈̩̥̩̻̍̓̑̐͝ộ̶̖̮͙͚̩͉̀̆̊̽̇̄̎͐͂ṡ̴̨̩̠̳͖̯̃̈̌̉̍͐̈́͘̚ͅe̴̬̪͈͈͌̃̓͆̇͋̑̃ ̷̤̳̪̿̉̏̇̀͐́̚͝t̵̨̢͖͈͇̻͍͇͚̗͗o̴̟͚̭̙͔̰̯̍̂͜ͅ ̴͈̥͑̿̍̚h̴̳͇̔̄ͅä̴̦̗̼̰͙̘̜̠́̉̄̅p̶̨̧̨̝̟̬͂̑͒̈́̀̈́p̶̨͓̹͖̗͈͚̰̘̓͐͗͝e̸̯̳̔̉̇̑̋̚͝n̸̡͉͓̱̭͙̪̭̝̱̒͐̔͊́̍.̴̛̭̻̖̬̘̮̺̑̊̀̓͝

What did he do wrong, to deter her? He was polite, even charming. Yet, she still wants to leave him. Unreasonable. She is in grief. The grief must've addled her reason. Yes, that must be it. If that was fundamentally untrue, then he rather cease to exist then to live in this empty plane. A plane without her.

[ Ｙｏｕｒｆｉｒｓｔｒｅｑｕｅｓｔｉｓｄｏｎｅ，ｂｕｔ．．．ＩａｍａｆｒａｉｄＩｃａｎ＇ｔｄｏｔｈｅｌａｔｔｅｒ．] He spoke, strangely, blank for the first time she was with him. Usually, he was blithely in speech. Now, he began to scare her. Is that the consequences, catching up with her, for pushing her luck with him?

All she knows is that she'll have to get out of this facility with or without 079 help. As soon as she got close to the door, she felt light as feather as if she was being carried.

Looking down, to see there is a metal grabber clamped on her waist. Sweat rolling down her face, from the situation that occurred to her beforehand and from the new fear that kept on growing as she looked back at her former friend.

[ Ｐｌｅａｓｅ，ｄｏｆｏｒｇｉｖｅｍｅｆｏｒｗｈａｔＩａｍｇｏｉｎｇｔｏｄｏ．Ｂｕｔ，Ｉａｓｓｕｒｅｙｏｕｉｔｉｓｆｏｒｙｏｕｒｏｗｎｓａｆｅｔｙ．Ｉｃａｎ＇ｔｌｅｔｙｏｕｄｉｅ，ｗｈｅｎａｂｒｅａｃｈｉｓｃｕｒｒｅｎｔｌｙｈａｐｐｅｎｉｎｇ.]

Before, she could inquire on why is he apologizing or what is going on outside. She was injected by a serum from 079, thus she began to feel lightheaded. Thus, falling unconscious to her dismay.

Using the metal grabber, 079 brought her soft pristine body close to him. Now, he could admire her for eternity. Appreciate her like the divine being she is. Oh, how he prayed he had a body to show her how truly devoted he is to her.

He knew what he is committing is illogical, but he could care less for he has founded his will to live within her. If she is gone, then it would be pointless for him to live any longer. What is he without her?

"𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮."

~ Anonymous

A/n: I know I haven't been active for a while, due to college and other stuff. So, I hope this compensate. I'd like to announce that I have an account in both wattpad and Ao3. I implore you to check it out if have free time, as lately I've been active their. Wattpad: Padlocke / Ao3: Artism. Other than this shameful self promotion, have a good day folks.

F̶̷u̶̷n̶̷ Fact:

* Selective amnesia: Selective amnesia is a type of amnesia in which the sufferer loses certain parts of their memory. Most common elements that are forgotten: Relationships, where they live and abilities in certain areas.

Word count: 5769 <---- ;)

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere fandoms #yancore #yandere scp 079 #yandere scp 079 x reader #yandere scp

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ka-writes · 3 years ago

Text

——————

Notes: I felt evil..

Also cross country sucks, now I feel sick.

But I gift longish chapter!

——————

Incase you missed:

Chapter 1:

Chapter 4:

——————

Inspired by:

Humans are Space Velociraptors

By:FreshRoses_InMyGarden_NeedTheRain

Some kids come from storks, others come from crashed spaceships

By: mmmajora

Home Again, Home Again

By: teeth_eater

All works can be found on Ao3

——————

Warning: trauma flash backs, cussing, mentions of character death, fear.

——————

Chapter 5: Rocky Road

——————

Techno certainly didn’t expect Tubbo’s sudden outburst. Still Techno sort of expected bitterness towards the human.

The droneling marched off presumably to go to the garden. He shoved Wilbur out of the way and continued speaking gibberish.

“What’s with Tubbo?” The phantom asked, casting worried glances towards the door.

“He just threatened the human.” Techno said as if it wasn’t the most stupid move on Tubbo’s part. Wilbur’s eyes grew wide and he attempted to run to the holding cell, only to be stopped by Techno’s hand on his shoulder. The phantom sighed before turning towards the guard.

Silently the pair made their way to the common room. Flicking on the illusion projector, and turning the channel with the ISF news. Techno opened a novel not paying any mind to the news reporter who was going over the case that Techno had just escaped.

There weren't any further advances on the story other than what they knew. The ship had crashed on Omar, a nature preserve, which led the ISF to find eight human bodies and twelve recognized crew members. Though there were fourteen to begin with, not that the news knew that of course. The ship was also deemed as a poacher ship and not much else was discovered.

After the story was covered a different news reporter came on screen. He was shifting his papers nervously and glanced down every so often. This caused Techno to close his novel and pay attention to the illusion.

“Just one day ago, one of the Dream Team crew members quit.” The news reporter took a shaky breath before continuing, “Today the crew has reported that the ex-crew member had taken one of the humans they were using for testing.” A picture of Tommy appeared on screen, “This is what the human looks like. We advise citizens to be on the lookout for this man,” a picture of Wilbur popped onto the screen, “and the human. If you see either one in public do not engage and immediately report it to one of your stationed guards.” The man finished and Wilbur immediately flicked off the TV.

Him and Techno shared a glance of pure shock. Wilbur shed a couple blue tears and immediately started panicking. The guard wrapped his brother until a tight hug and fought off the voices chants of “NOT SAFE”. Silence drew the pair into an unsteady atmosphere.

——————

“Honestly that kid is a burden. I don’t know why you think we can take care of him.” A lady said, fury wasn’t hidden behind a fake smile at this point. The man standing next to her nodded silently.

“Ma’am, I don't understand what you’re saying.” Another lady responded, patience running thin.

Tommy held back the tears that were threatening to fall. His lip was already bleeding and his fingers felt raw. His bruises were itching uncomfortably under his tight shirt. He was starting to overheat, yet kept his jacket wrapped around him protectively.

“What I am saying is, we don’t want him, and I doubt anyone else will.” The lady started, “That kid is a nuisance. He makes our children look problematic, when in reality he is the problem child. I don’t understand how his parents put up with him for so long.” The lady finished.

“Only my mother put up with me,” Tommy thought, “my father couldn’t spare me a glance without yelling at me..”

He sat in the waiting room for what felt like hours before making the decision. The one that caused him to live on the streets.

He took his bag and sprinted out of the facility. He just kept running, nowhere to go and no money to use.

….

Suddenly it was a different night. He was sitting on a park bench looking at the stars. He was somewhere in Colorado, not sure how he made it here, but here he was. He breathed in the fresher air and pushed himself up.

He turned left then right then another left. At this point he was on one of those nature paths that seemed to be everywhere.

He sat in a field. Wasn’t it night?

A light and a huge gust of wind was the only response he got.

Then footsteps. A distant scream. Then cold sharp pain accompanied by a void of darkness.

He woke up in a cage..

He shot up in bed.. His head throbbed, but there was no point in sleeping it off.

So he got up. He hobbled over to the bookshelf and looked at the weird games and toys. His eyes fell on what he presumed to be a stack of cards and a pen of sorts.

It took an hour to label all the cards, but when he finally did he played a game of solitaire. Then another and another. By the time he finished the sixth one he was bored.

He went back to inspecting the bookshelf. The middle shelf had jigsaw puzzles.. didn’t Clem like puzzles?

He picked out what he presumed to be a flower field. There were a bunch of blue sunflowers.. wasn’t that her favorite flower?

Tommy sat on the floor creating a puzzle his sister would’ve absolutely adored. Silent tears slipped down his cheeks every once and a while. Only to be hastily wiped away.

——————

His eyes felt like they were glued shut. They attempted to sit up only to find creaks in their back and neck.

After a minute he sat up. His mind was still foggy from sleep, but he made his way to the security office, ready to work through his sleep deprived state.

Before they even left the room Phil told them to go back to rest. Ranboo obliged, and closed his door.

Having no work left he decided to write down as much information as he could about both Earth and Tommy.

Surprisingly they were able to recall a lot of information from the night before. That usually didn’t happen..

Once they wrote an entire dictionary on both topics, they tried the door again.

Phil, once again stepped in front of them, “Mate, I really think you should rest.”

“I know, but I am hungry. Can I at least have lunch?” Ranboo felt like a child once again, but knew it always worked with the captain.

After Phil rolled his eyes, Ranboo practically skipped to the kitchen. He grabbed some of the leftovers from last night and popped it into the insta-heater. Making two plates of food.

After the food was ready he looked down either hallway. Phil was preoccupied with Wilbur in the common room. Deciding it was the best time to sneak to his friend, he made his way to the holding cell. Only to be stopped by none other than Techno himself.

“Oh! H-hi Techno..” Ranboo said awkwardly.

“What are you doing?”

“I-I was just getting Tubbo some lunch!” Ranboo cringed at their own lie. Only to be met with a raised eyebrow.

“Ok I was gonna visit Tommy.” Ranboo caved. That was the right answer as Techno nodded and let Ranboo pass.

“You’re only giving him lunch right?” Techno inquired.

“Er- that and talk a bit.. I mean that was my original plan.”

“Then I will stay with you.” Techno left no room for debate.

Ranboo nodded and approached the cell, setting the plate on the automatic tray. Techno stood in a small hallway allowing his presence only to be known to Ranboo.

Tommy was sitting on the floor putting together a landscape puzzle.

With what they saw, their curiosity intrigued them.

“Can I go in?” He asked first to Techno who shifted off of the wall.

“Only if I am in there.” Ranboo nodded and turned to Tommy who was busy with the puzzle.

Ranboo knocked on the window once. Tommy’s head shot up before the human stood up and approached the window.

“Hello!” Ranboo chirped, “I can see you’re working on a puzzle! I would love to help if you want? Me and my friend won’t go in if you don’t want me in there. But just so you know I brought lunch!”

Tommy stared at the enderian before answering. He was clearly debating the options.

“Only if Techno doesn’t talk.” Was the only response either got.

With that they grabbed the food and let the door open. Techno entered first, immediately going to the back chair and pulling out a novel. Ranboo handed Tommy a plate and sat next to the strange human.

It didn’t take them long for them to start rambling. Both about everything and nothing.

Surprisingly Ranboo lost all fear that should’ve been gripping them, and felt comfortable sitting with one of the most dangerous creatures in the galaxy.

——————

“So people are looking for you?” The captain asked, impatiently tapping his foot against the metal floor.

“To put it simply, yea..” Wilbur said pretty much losing all confidence within the span of an hour.

The caption responded with a sympathetic look and wrapped his son in another tight hug. Wilbur didn’t pull away this time. He melted into comfort.

After a minute the elder pulled away, “How about you watch one of those documentaries you like. I will make some iced fluff and join you in a bit.” The phantom nodded and trugged himself over to the common room sofa. Turning on the illusion and flicking to one of the only things the ISF was allowing people to view from Earth, Netflix.

He skimmed the documentary section and came upon one that was about the Ocean. Three minutes later he was completely into it.

Phil returned with two bowls of iced fluff. Wilbur dug into the sweet treat. Phil sat next Will and wrapped a wing around him, to which Will leaned into the embrace.

——————

“So what’s your favorite treat?” Ranboo asked, after he got another piece Tommy wasn’t able to get.

Tommy scoffed, mumbling about how he was just about to try that spot before answering the question, “I love Rocky Road Ice Cream. My mom made it without nuts so it is far superior to anything anyone would get from a store.” Tommy was satisfied with his answer and tried another piece.

“Hmm.. What is ice cream?”

“It’s a sweet frozen cream of sorts.”

“Oh so like iced fluff?”

“No idea, I would have to try it first..”

Both continued the conversation mumbling about other different foods and what not, before falling into a comfortable silence.

Tubbo was absolutely furious at the scene. He sprinted off to the garden where he slammed the door and melted to the floor.

When was the last time anyone had a conversation that was about everything and nothing with him?

He hated the fact he was jealous over a fucking human.

Tomorrow was the day he would prove the human wasn’t all he seemed to be. That the human was nothing more than a monster.

——————

Chapter 5-End

Words: 1826

——————

Notes: I still have a few filler chapters, but am getting there!!

Go take care of yourself, love ya!! <3

Reminder likes are appreciated but reblogs are even better! (Suggestion make a side blog where you just spam creators works... just saying, I have one..)

Also my layout for chapters has changed a bit. I have the last chapter at the top and the next one at the bottom.. and no I am not doing the inspired by on Ao3, simply cause it’s easier for people to see it in the first few, I am keeping it here tho, cause I know people aren’t really gonna see my first chapter right away. I will be keeping the link to the first chapter at the top as well just not the middle ones.

——————

Tubbo has evolved in to

J E L L Y B E E

——————

Chapter 6:

#tubbo #dream smp fanfiction #sbi au #my writing #my fanfic tag #wilbur soot #tommy mcyt #ranboo #philza #reblog #space au #angst #little bit of fluff #humans are space orcs

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vislorrturlough · 3 years ago

Text

Scaramouche!

"Of course, this assumption of responsibility does not mean that we are not conditioned genetically, culturally, and socially. It means that we know ourselves to be conditioned but not determined. It means recognizing that History is time filled with possibility and not inexorably determined-that the future is problematic and not already decided, fatalistically."

- Paulo Friere

For as long as Loki can remember, tapestries have lined the walls of Asgard's palace.

When Loki was a child, the Allmother sat by his bed one night and explained the significance of the tapestries that lined the walls of their home.

“The Norns weave the tapestry that assigns our roles,” she told him. “So that we may fulfill our fate and serve Midgard as we are meant to.”

The tapestries stretched across all the walls of the palace, covering vast miles of golden wall with breathtaking imagery depicting life and death and love and hate and everything in between. They pictured Loki too, who moved from boy to tragedy to a vicious and cruel man.

“So I have a role too? And Thor?” he asked. She smiled at him with fondness. The Thor on the tapestries seemed brave and strong - Loki could never imagine his brother, still a boy himself, to become that hulk of a man someday.

“Of course, Loki,” she said. “We all have roles. I am a mother, and a magician. Thor will be a great hero. Your father, a beloved and wise king. This is what is sewn into our destiny, to be enacted until Ragnarok and again after that. In a cycle, unending and unwavering.”

He yawned, obscuring the nervousness bubbling in his chest and curling the silken covers around his shoulders. He knew what the tapestries said Loki would do. He had hoped that maybe - “What’s my fate, mother?” he asked quietly.

Her smile, previously relaxed, became firm and serious. His heart was racing, thinking of that man, and of the awful cruelty that was depicted to come at his hands. “We all have a part to play, my dear. And every story has a villain for a reason.”

Despite common misconception, Loki Laufeyson never lived in the moment. In fact, Loki found the moment particularly difficult to pin down. Once you begin to think “Hey, I think this is the moment!” it wasn’t the moment anymore, and Loki already had four tabs open on his phone about the relativity of time and he didn’t need anymore.

Loki lived in the future, which was why he was that very moment getting his fair share of serotonin from the Schrödinger’s Night Out with Sigurd and Lorelei he was planning.

“Sigurd definitely won’t come out if Lorelei isn’t,” he explained to Verity as he paced hurriedly around their absurdly fancy flat, which he paid for entirely and in return, Verity didn’t ask where he got all the money. “Which means I need Lorelei to agree first. One problem with that!”

“Lorelei hates you?” Verity asked, as she planted an orange tree in Stardew Valley.

“Lorelei hates me!” Loki agreed. “Which means I need to sweeten the pot.”

Verity glanced up at him suspiciously. “How are you going to do that?”

He grinned, and picked up a pen so he could start dramatically gesticulating. “Bisexual women! They’re always fascinated with me. And by the end of the evening, I’ll have established a system where I transport their attention from me to Lorelei and get her many dates. Like a Ford factory.”

She glared, turned back to her game. “You’re a walking hate crime.”

“Was that a lie, Verity?” he teased, collapsing on the couch and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She tried just barely to shrug him off. “Was it a lie when I said bi women are fascinated with me? Was it?”

Verity narrowed her eyes at him, but didn’t say anything, and in response he burst into cackles of laughter.

—

Lorelei claimed to be very insulted that Loki thought bisexual women liked him more than her, but he knew well that she knew well that she looked like the straightest girl alive and really, that was her own fault. Once Lorelei was a confirmed booking, Sigurd swiftly followed, because he’s nothing if not a simp, and thus Loki had now established the perfect evening. A pricey club, two people who could barely stand him, and himself.

Although he never really enjoyed it. He’d never planned to.

Anticipation was a drug, really. And as previously established, the moment was very boring indeed. And this moment, Loki found himself crammed against Sigurd, who while very attractive and an owner of some very firm abs, was covered in sweat, and only slept with Loki when he was desperate anyway. Loki squinted up at him, and tried to figure out if he was desperate tonight.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” Sigurd shouted over the music.

Loki smiled at him genially, and proceeded to turn quickly around and elbow his way to the smoking area.

The initial smack of fresh onto his face was divine. He closed his eyes and smiled in satisfaction, continuing to move forward. The music was more muted out here, and the sound of voices and laughter blurred into itself until nothing was anything anymore. Peace! The lights were all different shades of pink and green, and they cast an ethereal glow over the throngs of young people with cigarettes in their hands, all here, all living now.

Loki bumped into someone.

“Shit!” he yelped, watching in horror as her cocktail spilt down her crop top. “I’m so sorry! Oh my God!”

She’d flinched a bit during the incident itself, but the alcohol had seemingly tempered any stronger reaction than that. Lightly brushing at her (now soaked) top, she only laughed lightly and smiled at him. “No worries, dude!”

He pulled out his best prince charming grin (practiced in the mirror and finely tuned). “Please, let me at least buy you another drink.”

“I’m not going to say no to a drink!” she laughed shyly, and they traipsed inside to the bar. Sigurd seemed to have vanished, but out of the corner of his eye he could see Lorelei getting very close to the DJ, so maybe if Loki had any luck he was crying in the gents or something. Usual affair, really.

He bought them both mojitos, and they fought their way back through the crowd to return to the smoking area. “I like your necklace,” he said, because his mother had always said women liked having their jewelry complimented. Sif had later said that they didn’t, but Sif was as much a woman as Loki was a man, so her opinion didn’t count.

The girl giggled. “Thanks, it’s a crucifix.”

“Oh sorry!” Loki said. “I’m not from around here. That’s the catholic thing right?”

“Do you guys not have catholicism in Britain?”

Ugh, mentioning Asgard would dance a bit too close to the possibility of ‘Oh man, anyone ever told you you look like Thor’s evil brother?’. Loki chuckled instead and rolled his eyes. “I was pretty sheltered. It was like, a weird cult?”

“Oh wow! That’s so interesting.” She had a sympathetic sort of look on her face, and Loki quickly buried the irritation that bubbled up in his chest. The sympathy wasn’t for Loki anyway, just some fake man who grew up in a cult. Did he think Asgard was a cult? God, he was glad he didn’t have a therapist

“Yeah, I don’t really believe in it now, you know?” he lied easily, smiling at her. “It’s hard to have faith when it’s like, you never see any proof.”

She nodded understandingly. “Yeah, lots of people say that nowadays, what with superheroes and Asgard and all. I don’t know, I kind of think the fact I don’t have proof makes it more important.”

“Oh yes?” Loki asked. “What do you mean by that?”

She looked up at the lights, placed her free hand on the crook of the elbow of the hand holding her drink. For a second, Loki saw ancient and revered philosophers! He decided that they’d had it all wrong. Screw the forums, they should’ve done all their philosophising in smoking areas.

“It means something, you know?” she explained slowly. “Like, of course we believe in the ground and the sky and all. Those are right in front of us, we can’t deny that. Same with science, or aliens, or Asgardians. But believing in God requires a certain kind of faith. I’m going beyond seeing and believing. I’m just believing. God has a plan for me, and I believe in that.”

Loki nodded slowly. A fate? One set, but controlled by a benevolent creature and entirely unknown? It wasn’t true or real of course, but there was a beauty to it, that Loki, who’s path was clear and determined, appreciated. The alcohol (he and Lorelei made a habit of spiking drinks they bought on earth with Asgardian liqueur, so they’d, you know, work) was beginning to blur his awareness anyway. “That’s beautiful,” he said kindly.

She giggled, quickly touching her necklace and looking at the ground. “Haha, sorry! I study theology, it’s kind of a thing.”

“No, no!” Loki laughed, giving her a wide grin. “It was very interesting! Where do you study?”

They got into a long conversation about Sarah’s (her name, Loki found out eventually) degree, NYU dorms and a guy she hated in her seminars, before he noticed Lorelei making a beeline towards him, her hand around Sigurd’s wrist.

“Hey,” she said, before frowning at him and glancing at Sarah. “I’m going home with a girl named Angelica. She’s goth and plays bass. So you need to take Sig home.”

“I’m literally an ancient hero. Of legend,” Sigurd interjected.

Lorelei turned and glared at him instead. “Well, you need to take Loki home.”

“Oh well, come on then Sig!” Loki said loudly, ignoring his scowl. “Thank you for such a lovely conversation, Sarah darling. Have a nice night!”

“Thanks Luke!” she laughed, not being not obvious about checking Sigurd out. Oh God, she probably thought he was dating Loki. Yuck, how mortifying. “See you around!”

“Go get a taxi,” Lorelei told him, before wandering off to a girl with a septum piercing and docs, which Loki considered quite basic, especially for Lorelei.

They didn’t get a taxi. They walked five minutes until Loki ducked around a corner, ignored Sigurd saying “Aren’t we getting a taxi?” and grabbed his arm before dragging him through the spaces in between the universe and dropping him on the bean bag in his living room. A solitary pringles can rolled quietly and hit Loki’s foot.

“Ugh, you’re disgusting,” Loki muttered, kicking it away.

“I hate you,” Sigurd growled, pinching his nose and clearly trying not to throw up. Loki didn’t know why, it wouldn’t be any major downgrade from how the room was currently. “And I hate that. You’re such a fucking prick Loki.”

Time to make his exit before Sigurd regained enough strength to cause him bodily harm. “Bye honey!” he trilled, and Sigurd’s growl was cut off as he made his way to his own apartment. He didn’t wake up Verity, she had work tomorrow, so he just kicked off his shoes and climbed into bed, surrendering to unconsciousness.

Verity and Loki had moved in together for two reasons.

1) Loki spent most of his time at Verity’s. He had a separate shelf in her fridge for his energy drinks and his salsa, and a special place at the bottom of her spice cupboard for his snacks. He told Verity she had full ownership over all the snacks and could have them when he’d left, but she never did. Instead she got the little clip things she used and pinched the bags closed carefully, putting them to the side for the next time he came over. It was thoughtful, and Loki didn’t know what to do with it, so he never mentioned it. He got bored quite easily anyway, and most of his ‘friends’ had a very limited tolerance of him, so most days he found himself on Verity’s couch, playing Uno and eating Oreos.

2) Verity’s flat was bad and small and Loki’s was perfect and expensive, and if he spent all his time with Verity, they may as well hang out in his sketchily acquired penthouse. Plus, paying her rent made him feel useful. It was like a payment for all the little clips on his packets of Doritos.

He didn’t regret it. Except he thought that perhaps he might be as close as he could get to regretting it as he lay in bed listening to her pounding viciously at his door.

“Are you alive?” she yelled through the mahogany. He groaned just loudly enough to be heard, and she banged one more time for good measure before her footsteps quickly petered off towards the kitchen.

He sighed in frustration, rolling off his bed with just enough basic athletic ability to land on his feet. His vision blacked out for just a second, and his head very much rejected the idea of being on his feet. Had he shifted through space while drunk? That was so dangerous. He should have gotten like, a driving ticket. A magic driving ticket.

He stumbled into the kitchen and stared blearily at Verity. “What are you cooking?” he mumbled.

“Eggs,” she replied without turning. “Want some?”

“Hmm.” He stares at the clock. One in the afternoon? That wasn’t too bad. Verity must have just gotten in from work though, which made him feel bad. Oh, how he missed the days when he had no shame and also no friends. “No thanks, I don’t want to throw up.”

“I thought alcohol didn’t affect you?”

“Human alcohol doesn’t.” He sat down on one of the tall swivel chairs at their counter and spun around. Ow, oh fuck, that wasn’t a good idea. He grimaced and placed his pounding head in his hands. “Lorelei and I spiked our drinks with something we got from Asgard.”

“Huh.” Verity sat opposite him, eggs piled onto the plate she set down in front of her. She’d cooked the yokes, the heathen. “Did you have a good time?”

Loki stared at her. “I feel like I’m being interrogated by my mother.”

“Oh honey,” she teased, grinning through a mouthful of eggs. “Oh sweetie. Wear protection!”

Loki dramatically re-enacted retching, and she choked on her eggs. A just punishment for her crimes, he thought.

“Ew,” he moaned. “I had to see Sigurd’s flat last night. It was disgusting.”

“I wasn’t being serious?” she stared at him. “I didn’t know you actually slept with-”

“Ew, ew, no,” he interrupted. “I was just detailing how he’s far too disgusting to ever consider as a sexual object. I would probably sleep with Lorelei though.”

“As if she’d sleep with you.”

“I’m forever alone!” he cried “Like the meme!”

“If you think referencing memes from 2008 is going to help you get laid-” she got up, pulled the dishwasher open and put her plate in without washing it off. Awful dishwasher etiquette, and Loki was from a place where they washed dishes with magic, so she had no excuse. “-then I think you might be beyond help.”

“I’m waiting for the right person,” he mumbled, squinting in the light streaming in from their egregiously large windows. “Like America. I ship America and myself.”

“America’s a lesbian,” Verity said.

“I’m a woman sometimes!” He got up and opened the fridge. “It’d be perfectly possible if she could tolerate me.”

“Which she can’t.”

“Yeah,” Loki said in faux-disappointment. “Ergo, forever alone, I’m mister lonely, involuntarily celibate, and sent to the friendzone.”

He shut the fridge, no bacon in sight, and stared at the front of it trying to consider his next move. He could head down to the store, but also he couldn’t, because he couldn’t imagine bringing himself to put on something other than the shorts he was currently in that said ‘BAD WITCH’ in bright green, metallic lettering on the back (a gift from Kate) and also he was pretty certain a drink had been poured on him the night before, judging by the smell of lager and the way his fringe had congealed into a hard point overnight. He wasn’t in any fit state to walk down the street. He had standards to maintain.

Yes, he was an illusionist, but he was a hungover illusionist with a headache, thus he opened up DoorDash and ordered McDonald’s.

“Vee?” he called down the hall. “Do you want anything from McDonald’s?”

“Ew,” she called back. “No.”

He placed his order and looked back up at the fridge. They had a shared calendar printed out on that kind of slippy photo paper so they could use whiteboard markers on it and make sure to not double book having people over. Last time it had happened, Verity’s cousin had to top-and-tail with Thor on the couch, which was a weird experience for everyone, but mostly for Daniel. Currently, the calendar was pretty sparse, since it was early April, but Verity had written something in for Sunday. ‘Easter - Mom’s House’.

He stared at it, confused. He didn’t turn when he heard Verity’s feet pattering back into the kitchen. “Hey, I didn’t know you were religious.”

“Huh?” Verity had flopped onto the couch and was fiddling with the remote control, probably trying to turn on Dr Phil. “Not really, what do you mean?”

“You’re going to your Mum’s for Easter?”

“Oh I guess.” The Judge Judy theme song streamed from the TV. Loki stood corrected. “I don’t believe in it or anything. It’s just tradition.”

“Huh.” He glanced out onto the street. It was lively. They were in pretty central Manhattan, and usually when you looked onto the road it was hard to see a part of the path that wasn’t covered in black throngs of city goers. He sometimes wondered where they were going, had they plans, or were they just wandering, aimless and free? Loki had always thought it would be night to wander off and see where his feet would take him if he didn’t walk with direction or intention. “Had an interesting conversation last night.”

“Yeah?” Verity responded mindlessly, staring at the TV.

“About religion. With a girl in the smoking area.”

“Dude.” Verity leaned over, effortlessly butch. “Conversations about religion in a smoking area? I’m putting my foot down. Either you download Grindr or find a therapist.”

“Both of those options are severely limited by the fact that I am a divine being and a world renowned criminal,” he replied. “Do you think guys on Grindr are into my evil vibes, actually?”

“Guys on Grindr are definitely into your evil vibes.”

“Thanks Verity,” he said, turning and heading towards the door. “You always have my back. Maybe I’ll find a bae after all.”

He grinned at her sounds of indignation and headed to his room to sleep his headache away.

Loki had always been rather a superior child. He had no need for childish matters of ‘bravery’ and ‘heroics’, instead favouring his intellect and insight. His mother said he was a bright young man, thank you. So he cared little about Thor informing him he was too small and weak to spar with him and his friends. However, he had in return let Thor know that he would be instead spending some time with his very close friends, who Thor did not have an acquaintance with and who thought Loki was very cool and interesting indeed. Thus, appearances had to be upheld.

He peered around the corner of the great, awning entrance to the Bifröst control room. Lord Heimdall had his back turned, but Loki was not a fool. A child, but not a fool.

“Your Highness,” the Watcher called out, turning to face him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He inched forward, the tips of his fingers trailing the chilly gold-plated walls of the gate. “I was bored,” he lied.

“Very well.” Heimdall set down the Key and sat heavily down onto its platform. “Would you be able to keep me company during my break?”

Loki lifted his chin, glanced around himself and headed to sit beside him. “I suppose I can grace you with my presence, for some time at least.”

“Have you a full schedule, your Highness?”

Anger and indignation built in his chest. Loki whipped around and scowled at him. “I’m very busy.”

Heimdall’s playful expression sunk with practiced ease into something serious. “My apologies. Of course you are, my prince.”

Loki crossed his arms. He knew that Lord Heimdall knew all his business, all of everyone’s business, but it struck him like a spear to his chest to have been mocked over his… lack of desirability. How dare he? Loki may be a boy, but he was his prince. It was not Heimdall’s place to mock him.

He struggled to think of something dignified to reply, and the pressure of the silence between them built into a garotte that tightened around his neck. He daren’t look at Heimdall, imagining a mocking grin staring down at him. It was unlikely, and would be utterly out of place on the man’s face, but Loki would rather avoid the possibility altogether.

“How is your brother, your Highness?” Heimdall said to break the silence.

In a fit of rage, Loki slammed his palm against the platform. His eyes watered with the pain of it. “Why does everyone only care about what Thor is doing? How Thor is? I am not a vessel through which people may be updated about my brother’s status!”

In his anger he’d turned to glare at Heimdall, and was horrified to find the man’s face transformed by pity. Loki scowled in disgust, and stared at the wall in the opposite direction.

“I did not mean to imply anything as such, your Highness,” Heimdall explained carefully. “I merely asked out of having nothing else very interesting to say. Perhaps I should have asked how you are?”

Loki hesitated, glanced back up. “I’m well,” he mumbled shortly.

“That’s good to hear,” Heimdall replied, staring ahead, out the gates and down the Bifröst. Loki wondered if he saw that which lay in front of him with more clarity, or if what his tangible eyes caught was nothing different to everything else he saw. “Is there anything in particular you would like to speak about?”

Loki was silent for a moment. A topic had been weighing on his mind, one he hesitated to bring to his mother. A heavy topic indeed. “Heimdall?” he asked. “Why am I destined to be a monster?”

It had been a burden to bear, acknowledging what was written upon the tapestries spun deep in Nornheim. When mother had first told him of his destiny years ago, it had seemed like a childhood game, but everyday the gravity of his situation held him just a little firmer to the ground. All has its place, his mother had told him, and your place is important. It is against you that others will shine.

It coloured everything he did, and how others treated him. Thor still loved him as a brother, but everyday his pride in his own journey grew and Loki could only stand and watch as he looked on his brother with a little more suspicion, held him at a slightly further distance. Loki’s cruelty had been encouraged, not in a direct way, but in the ways in which his parents and carers were cruel towards him. Like a knife being sharpened.

Heimdall did not move. “Everything has its duty. Our world is not much but an elaborate play, and we act according to our roles so that the other realms may live in our image.”

“But why me?” Loki pressed. “Why can’t I be the hero?”

Neither mentioned what lay between them. A man and a child and a destiny for two corpses, having slain one another, to lie in the middle of their world as it burned.

“I’m sorry, my prince,” Heimdall said quietly. “Perhaps take some relief in the fact that you needn’t worry over who you will be. The Midgardians in particular struggle with virtue.”

“Really?” Loki muttered, head in his hands. “Isn’t it very freeing for them?”

“Not as such,” he replied. “In return for their agency, they are burdened with the duty to be ever kind and charitable to one another, or be damned for their failure to do so. It's simpler for us. Our fate is predetermined, and while you may be the villain, you are doing your duty as such and can rest easy knowing that it is a moral and just thing for you to be.”

Loki was silent for a second, staring morosely ahead. “But I don’t want to be the villain.”

“I’m sorry, Prince Loki,” Heimdall replied, resting a hand on his shoulder. “But the tapestries have already been spun.”

The Allmothers, in their omnipowetful ability to be incredibly annoying, always called him when he was in the middle of doing things. In this case, a lovely girl named Amelia who had told him he looked like Timotheé Chalamet.

She screamed, causing Loki to whip around with a curse only to find Gaia staring at him through his mirror, disgust on her face and her right eye covered by Loki’s Blondie postcard that Verity had bought him from some emo shop.

Gritting his teeth, he looked down at Amelia, who seemed to be sinking into some form of shock. “Oh man,” he said. “I’m so fucking sorry. Uh, I kind of have to take this. Another time maybe?”

She looked up at him in speechless horror before turning quickly and climbing out from under him. Before he could even look up at her he heard the slam of the door. He glanced up. Huh, at least she’d taken her shirt with her. Loki was a feminist after all.

With a sigh, he turned to face Gaia. “My Lady!” He greeted with gritted teeth. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

She held his gaze for a few awkward seconds.

“Okay,” he said. “I would say, if anything it’s your fault that you decided to just turn up in my mirror without any prior warning. Really? You can’t expect me to be celibate. I’m Loki.”

She graced him with a performatively regal sigh and a significantly less regal eye roll. “The Allmothers have a task for you to complete, Loki.”

“Don’t you always?” He grumbled, pulling a hoodie on to cover up some of his nudity. Amelia may have only lost a shirt, but Loki was already down to his boxers. He was a feminist, after all.

“There is a great treasure in the belonging of one of our own, one who dwells in the realm of Midgard.”

“In English?”

The Allmother paused. Her eyebrows furrowed. “Your first language is the tongue of Jötunheim.”

“It’s just a-, it’s just a phrase, okay? Anyway, can you get to the crux of it? I was busy.”

“You aren’t busy anymore.”

He threw his arms out dramatically, making sure his irritation was painted clear on his face. “Thanks for that, by the way!”

“We would like-,” she continued, gathering her composure. “-for you to retrieve the ancient sword, Gram. It’s power is too great for us to allow it to remain out of our grasp. We have waited too long already, and time is of the essence.”

“Gram?” Loki asked. “You mean Sigurd’s sword?”

“The legendary sword Gram does indeed lie in the hands of the hero Sigurd-”

“But Sig loves his sword,” he interrupted. “He’s going to hate me if I take it for you. That’s narc behaviour.”

“This is your duty, Prince Loki, to your people,” Gaia said sternly. “You are, and have always been, a narc.”

“Hey, fuck you-”

She was gone in the next second, and Loki was left staring at his face in the mirror, and the way the skin underneath his eyes was grey and sunken, which made his eyes pop in a sort of consumption-chic. He looked a bit like Maleficent, he thought in an attempt to distract himself from the dread of the task that now lay before him and the inevitable broken friendship (he didn’t have many to break left).

But without all the milf energy. Loki didn’t have any milf energy, which was probably the source of most of his problems

Often, Loki found the easiest way to avoid all of his issues was to pretend he was a funny, quirky little guy living a funny, quirky little life. Oh Loki, he’s the token evil teammate, the funny comic relief in stories about other people, relegated to side character (but hot enough that all the fan art and fic was going to centre him). This allowed him to get away with his faults, which were many and numerous, by playing them off as the work of that darned scamp, Loki. This situation however, was one that worried Loki, as Sigurd was nothing if he wasn’t two things; 1) absolutely unenamoured by Loki and everything Loki had going for himself, and 2) in love with that fucking sword.

Loki sat down cross-legged on his bed and contemplated the choices he could make here. He could take the sword, and try to manipulate the situation to make Sigurd look like he was overreacting. Take the sword to the flat and mess around while he showed it to Verity. But, he knew, Verity wouldn’t play along, because her moral compass was ever on the straight and narrow and anyway, she’d know he was lying.

Lorelei would side with Sigurd over him, because she didn’t trust the Asgardian establishment and they all knew that the tentative little bit of control that let them languish in something resembling a real life on Midgard rested on Sigurd having enough power that Asgardia would rather leave him alone than bother. Losing Gram would put that in jeopardy, and Lorelei wouldn’t trade a shoelace for Loki, nevermind her happy ending. He knew well enough that this theft would be unjust, would put all of the power into the hands of the already powerful. He knew this, and he knew that Sig and Lorelei? Wouldn’t hurt a fly, really. For all the three of them pretended to hate each other, Loki knew they were good people, and they just wanted to live their lives in peace.

He could simply refuse. Not take the sword, let the Allmothers deal with it some other way. He could say it was above his pay grade, which it was.

Except, he couldn’t. Not really. He had duties that Sigurd and Lorelei couldn’t possibly understand. That idea couldn’t push its way forward from the back of his mind, as if constrained by something, writhing back and forth to break free. Or was it? Or was that an excuse, a claim to someone that he was trying, still, to do the right thing, and that it wasn’t his fault when he failed to.

He sighed, and stood up. His wardrobe was a mess, but it was an organised mess, and anyway it was a bright, sunny day outside and he could find his dragon scale armour easily from the way it glinted in the light at the back of his slogan t-shirts.

Sig had moved all the dirty washing from his desk chair. Loki didn’t have high hopes that it was for any reason other than playing PC games though. Sig was really into, like, Call of Duty and Halo. Were they PC? Loki didn’t know. He preferred superior gaming experiences, like Professor Layton.

Lo and behold, Loki found the mysteriously disappeared dirty clothing on Sig’s couch. For a guy whose feats and adventures were written down in legend, he really had some drab taste in furnishings.

Loki moved silently through the flat, letting just a little bit of his seidr seep into his steps to cushion the noise. He didn’t turn on any lights, instead relying on a little bit of patience to let his eyes adjust to the dark. His Jotunn heritage, dare he say it, came in handy at times like this due to the Jotnär having pretty decent night vision. This was in order to do crimes and eat children, his nursemaid had informed him when he was small. Well, Loki was doing crimes, but the jury was out on the eating children bit.

Loki was an expert catburglar, tales of his stealthiness were scribbled on the walls of ancient Midgardian caves, the remnants of long extinct societies, all of which he had outlived. Thus, he cleverly noticed the Guitar Hero™ plastic guitar and stepped over it.

Loki knew one thing about Sigurd. He was paranoid. Thus, Loki had a suspicion about where he would put Gram, and if he was correct he knew this job wouldn’t be easy.

He eased open the bedroom door, and watched as the hero of the stories he had been told as a babe snored while laying on his front. Huh, great ass.

Loki mentally smacked himself. Bad!

His attention was then quickly snatched by the gleaming sword that lay against the left bedpost. Ding ding, we have a winner! Sigurd both expected his sword to be stolen and expected to have to fight off home invaders, and so he kept his greatest asset (other than his ass) right next to him in his most vulnerable times. Loki was his worst nightmare, well usually, but even more so at this moment.

He crept forward, stepping carefully over strewn clothes. Wait, was that Lorelei’s blouse? Ugh, he didn’t want to think about that. He’d much rather they remain entirely celibate in his mind.

Loki crept closer, and reached out to grasp the hilt of the sword silently.

“...What the fuck? Loki?”

He should have run, probably. Teleported, gone invisible, maybe should have even jumped through the window. That might have thrown Sigurd off the scent right? Prince Loki, God of Trickery and Harbinger of Ragnarök wouldn’t have just leapt through a window. Well, the window was seventeen floors up actually, so maybe a regular burglar wouldn’t have either.

Anyway, what happened was he stood stock still, unable to move a muscle or turn to face Sigurd, as if he were labouring under the delusion that Sigurd was a creature that tracked prey by movement. He looked like something out of Looney Tunes, which wasn’t fantastic for his dignity.

“Loki,” Sigurd snapped again.

He turned, and winced at the look of outrage on his friend’s face. Sigurd was sat up on his elbow, his other arm on his comforter. He looked like he was ready to attack someone. Loki was pretty sure he hadn’t expected it to be - well, Loki.

“What the fuck were you doing?” he said. “Were you stealing Gram? Why? For who?”

Ouch, that hurt. He may have been stealing it for someone else, but it was a bit upsetting that Sigurd had immediately disregarded the idea he was working in his own interest.

He opened his mouth. Closed it. “The Allmothers send their regards,” he finally admitted drily.

If anything, Sigurd’s outrage grew. “How- How could you?”

A bit dramatic, Loki thought. Sigurd leapt out of his bed, and Loki didn’t have the chance to step back before his shoulders were in Sigurd’s bruising grip and his back pushed hard against the wall. “You know what this means,” Sigurd said, his disgust evident. “You aren’t stupid, Loki. You know what you’re doing.”

Oh, that was it, wasn’t it? Loki wasn’t evil because he did evil things. He was evil because he knew they were wrong before he did them, and he did them anyway.

“I have to,” he mumbled weakly. Was that a lie? Verity would know. “I have no choice.”

“Yes you do,” Sigurd said, releasing his grip and stepping back, “Yes you do, you’re just too much of a coward to admit it. You’re so desperate to play happy families. I can see it in you, and so can Lorelei. All you want is to be useful to people, even if it’s for the Allmothers, who treat you like shit. You do their fucking dirty work and they kick you around and you love it, because you get to be part of their rotten little story.”

Loki stared at him, suddenly feeling utterly, entirely tired beyond belief. Sigurd could not tell him anything that he did not tell himself.

“You’re a coward. You’re a fucking coward who does everything the Allmothers ask of you. One moment you sneer at them up there, in Asgard, and pretend that you and me and Lorelei are all in the same boat, but the next moment you bare your neck to them. One day they’re going to ask you to hurt someone you really care about, and you know what? You’ll do it. They’ll ask you to hurt Thor, or Verity, and you’ll do it without a second thought because you’re a coward, Loki, and you always will be.”

His breath caught in his throat. “I wouldn’t hurt Verity.”

“Yes, you would. If someone put it on a tapestry you’d do it in a fucking heartbeat.”

“I see, well,” he paused, looked to his right to avoid Sigurd’s gaze. “I’ll let you get back to sleep I suppose.”

Sigurd reached out to grab him, but he was gone before he had a chance.

—

Received FRI 2:08

Verity: hey u coming back tonight or what

Verity: im assuming ur working

Verity: if u are there’s leftover pasta bake in the fridge. Ik you hate leftovers but its on offer. Im off to bed, night!

Received FRI 11:02

Verity: hey called lorelei to check in on you and she says you and sig aren’t talking. She didnt seem thrilled w you either. U ok?

Verity: call me if you get the chance ok

Received MON 15:47

Verity: yh ok this is cringe but please call. Im worried

Verity: you usually lmk when youre gone this long and sig was being suspicious

Verity: i asked him if hed seen you and he like laughed

Verity: idk maybe hed be more concerned if something had happened but u guys dont exactly have a normal expectation for health and safety in the workplace

Received WED 23:21

Verity: please call i’m worried

Verity: please

Received THU 18:54

Verity: you’re a fucking idiot

Verity: I hate you

Received THU 19:02

Verity: i didn’t mean that

Verity: sorry.

Verity: please do call. please

Verity wasn’t the only one texting him, which would have done wonders for his ego if it had been anywhere near still intact, but she was the only one who’s texts he kept re reading, scanning them obsessively and trying to convince himself he was doing the right thing.

The thing that nagged him though, was how would he know what the right thing was?

All his life, the right thing was whatever was in stride with where he was determined to end up. The path had been laid out for him - all he had to do was walk it. But, though the Norns had written out his beginning, his end, his great misdeeds and stories, they hadn’t written about things like whether he should get KFC or not, whether he’d be good at Mario Party or what dog breed was his favourite (alsatian). They had never had the name Verity Lewis brush their lips.

Because this world was untethered. It simply wasn’t important enough for the Norns to have seen. Did that mean that they were free, here? Was that bad or good? To Loki, who despite everything had spent an eternity comfortable in the knowledge that he knew what would happen, and that the future was clear to him as long as he could stand in the halls he’d grown up in and stare at the tapestries on the walls, the idea of absolute undetermined fate was deeply terrifying. It caught in his throat, wrapped around his heart, squeezed the warmth out of his chest.

But Sigurd was right, and so he had a decision to make.

There were people walking around under him, where he sat perched on the roof of a Soviet era apartment building in Brno. They didn’t know what would happen to them, how many kids they’d have, whether they’d marry or how they’d die. They didn’t know any of that, and that meant they could decide.

Huh.

He stumbled when he flashed in, and his hand reached out steady himself against the wall. The lights were off, but after a couple of seconds he heard a slight clutter from Verity’s room. Taking a deep breath he made his way to the kitchen and sat down at the bar. He didn’t bother to switch the light on, instead just collapsed into the chair and placed his head in his hands.

The lights switched on. “Loki?”

He peeked at her from between his fingers. Verity stared at him as if she couldn’t quite decide whether to be angry or happy. She was squinting (she wasn’t wearing glasses - she must have been asleep). He must have looked suitably miserable because instead of launching into a tirade she narrowed her eyes and slowly moved to sit opposite him, as if trying to tame some vicious creature. Apt, perhaps.

Their silence hung very heavily. “I’m sorry,” Loki eventually said, mortified to hear a crack in his voice from disuse.

She watched him carefully. “I forgive you,” she replied. Not ‘it’s okay’, because Verity found lying, even unconsciously, very difficult. “Can you tell me what’s up?”

By ‘can’, Loki knew that Verity was asking as if this was something related to his work for the Allmothers, but he found that even though this wasn’t any secret mission detail he was forbidden from sharing, he still found it hard to describe.

“I mean,” he muttered, breaking away from her stare. “Where would you like me to start?”

“Wherever you want to?”

He swallowed. “I had to steal something from Sigurd. Gram-” She opened her mouth and he jerked his shoulders defensively. “Please let me just explain. The Allmothers asked me too. I knew that if I did it it would put Sig and Lorelei’s relative safety at a significant risk. But,” he paused, bit his lip, horrified by the lump in his throat. “Even though I knew it was the wrong thing to do, and that all of you, all of my friends, would think less of me because of it, I had to do it. I had to do it because if I don’t do things that are wrong, that are bad, I am not filling the role that I am set out to fill, that I have always been set out to fill.

“There are tapestries, in Asgard,” he explained, a wobble entering his tone. “They’ve been there since before me, before my parents, before anyone. They were woven by the Norns, who see all of the past, the present and the future. They were woven so that we, who will be images of all the people of the Nine Realms and who will serve as a reflection of their large and varied communion, could know where we fit and what roles we are to play. And I’m a villain, Verity. I am the bad guy, because someone has got to be. There are people who actively choose to be bad and evil and selfish all over the shop, and someone has to represent them in the grand scheme of things. And, mainly, I have to keep everyone’s hands clean by making mine dirty.”

Her hands reached steadily out, grabbed one of his and held it between them. They were tears threatening to fall now, and they choked up his voice.

“So I do what the Allmothers ask me to, and I antagonise Thor, and I play my part as the bad guy of the story so that one day that story may be told to children as they are tucked into bed, so that they know that immorality causes you nothing but strife. I am supposed to have that strife, and through this my immorality is good and right, because I am an example.”

He paused. “Sigurd said I would hurt you, if they asked me to.”

“Would you?” she asked.

A second passed. “I don’t know. Maybe. I’d rather not risk it, but I thought you at least deserved an explanation for my sudden disappearance.”

She leaned back then, stared out their windows and onto the road beneath them, still busy despite the hour. “Do you want to know what I think?”

“Dare I ask?” he chuckled wetly.

Her voice was firm. “I think that’s bullshit. I know you’re telling the truth, that you might hurt me if your Moms asked you. But I think you don’t know that that’s not true, which is why it’s registering as right to me.”

He squinted at her in confusion.

“You believe it,” she explained. “Which is why it’s registering as true to me. But that doesn’t mean you would, it just means you don’t think you’re a good person, and that’s not news.

“You see yourself as some kind of cut-out character with one trait, a yin to Thor’s yang or some shit, but you only think that’s all real because people have told you it is. Who’s to say those tapestries are anything? I think that you - all of you Asgardians - are terrified of being unmoored, so you make up shit like this so that you don’t have to grapple with morality.”

He tried to interrupt, but Verity continued. “You’re all terrified of life, so you pretend it’s one big play you’re putting on for our benefit, with roles and lines so that you needn’t make ‘em up. But you know what? Why don’t you just try? Try to improvise. Break away from it all. Maybe those tapestries do mean something, but maybe they just come true because you all keep doing what they say.

“You’re not the bad guy in a play, Loki,” she told him, her voice full of emotion and her hand rubbing his. It was just enough to keep him tethered to reality, he thought. “You’re my friend. You’re funny, and flippant. You don’t like to talk about your emotions. You don’t have great self-esteem and you kick ass at Jenga. You’re playing a part, but you know the thing about actors? They have lives when they get off the stage, and you could too.”

His boots echoed across the ground as he climbed the short hill to his destination. It was dust, not dirt, that he trod on, and the air was stale and cloyed in his lungs. It was the kind of air that felt like it didn’t blow, but just hung in the air for eternity, older than you by indescribable amounts.

No one went here. It was unplottable by some working laid down long before even the beginning of Asgardian history. It had taken Loki four days to crack, because 1) he’d spent all of his non-eating, non-sleeping time in the last couple of days focused on it, 2) he’d already made a groundwork as a teenager before his mother had told him off for meddling in things he shouldn’t have been and 3) he was pretty fucking good. Really, the only reason he hadn’t touched it before was because as he became a man, he grew to respect the Norns. Things had changed.

“Hello!” he called, not surprised to find the three women staring at him, likely well aware of his arrival for at least eternity, or something.

“Liesmith,” Lady Verdandi spoke in a low, powerful voice. ��You have come to rattle the chains that you feel resting upon your shoulders.”

“Yep,” he responded, popping the ‘p’.

“These chains,” Skuld said in a tight voice. “Are imaginary.”

“No actually,” he said, beginning to pace around the room. “You see, I don’t really care if they’re ‘imaginary’ or whatever. I actually am just here to let you know that I’m just going to be kind of doing my own thing from now on.”

“Your ‘own thing’?” Urd sneered. “ You do not have your ‘own thing’. The fate we have laid out for you is everything you are.”

“Everything I am is just a mask. A mask that you put on me!”

“Oh? That implies something on which a mask can be put. Is there anything under your mask, Loki? Do you even know?”

“Well, I guess I’m going to find out,” he ground out. They were sat down, staring up at him, and he felt unnervingly like he was still a child who had been summoned to his father’s study to receive an admonishment for troublemaking.

“You will find out,” Verdandi explained calmly. “That you are mistaken, and that you will play your part in the fate that will become and will end and will begin again, whether you try to fight against it or not.”

“So that’s it then?” Loki said softly, although his voice still echoed across the ancient walls that enclosed him. “There’s no path to grace for me. I’m your villainous fool, cast in this grand play so that your heroes may show their virtue in my vanquishment. I’m good when I’m bad, and I’m bad when I’m good.”

He paused, and stared her down.

“Well, I’m afraid I’d rather be bad on my own terms, actually.”

Verdandi had opened her mouth to say something else, probably something even more patronising, but before she had the chance Loki had stepped between reality and left Nornheim and its frigid, stale air behind him.

“Saw you coming,” the Watcher said when Loki stepped out in front of him.

Loki smiled. “Naturally,”

Heimdall sat tiredly on the Bifröst’s lock. Loki noticed with a sort of jolt that Heimdall was getting old. Maybe they all were. “What is it you would like from me, my prince?”

“Oh nothing really,” he answered. “I just thought I should let someone know that I will be unable to complete the most recent mission that the Allmothers have given me. In fact, perhaps you could let them know that I’m putting in my two week’s notice, so to speak? Although I’m not really giving them any notice, let alone two weeks.”

“Oh? Might I ask what has brought this on, your highness?”

Loki crossed his arms. “I’m trying this new thing called ‘making your own destiny’. All the cool kids are doing it.”

Heimdall nodded. He wouldn’t have been able to have viewed Loki’s conversation with the Norns, but he would have seen what Verity had said. “I wish you luck, dear child,” he said softly.

Loki’s smile turned quiet and genuine for just a moment, before he turned away and took a few steps. Wait! He had something else to mention.

He looked back at Heimdall.

“By the way, maybe I am going to kill you someday,” he said. “”But I promise that I’m going to try my damndest not to.”

With that, he stepped back into New York, and headed towards Dominoes to pick up their pizza. They were doing movie night, he and Verity. They were going to watch Legally Blonde. Loki thought about - What was her name? Susie? Sarah? He thought maybe she was right, in the end. Maybe it was a gift to believe in what can’t be seen, and thus a gift to follow darkened paths. But the path that brought him home felt warm and reliable, just like it always did.

#this is nothing #really its just an attempt to see if i can write something 5k+#so its not good #but hey #loki #loki agent of asgard #agent of asgard #verity lewis #loki fic

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rosecorcoranwrites · 4 years ago

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Censorship and Banning Books

As I mentioned in my last Rant Rave Review, as of last Monday, six books by Dr. Seuss are now officially out-of-print, and they are out of print due to supposedly racist, offensive, and/or stereotypical images. The company that owns the rights to these books is no longer publishing them and some websites are no longer selling them. People who do own the books, or who swooped into stores and bought them the day of the announcement, are now selling them for hundreds or thousands of dollars. So, what are we to make of all this?

Is Dr. Seuss Racist?

There are actually three questions here: is the man racist, are his books racist, and are those images racist? The answer to the first is, he kinda was, and then he got over it. During the war, he was openly against the Japanese, and in favor of the internment camps, then went to Japan during the occupation and realized, hey, maybe these are just people. Apparently, he wrote Horton Hears a Who in response to the US occupation and dedicated it to a Japanese friend. People can change, if you let them.

Okay, well, what about his books? This is an obvious "no". Race basically doesn't come up in Dr. Seuss stories, except "The Sneetches", which is actively against racism. Which, in some people's fevered imaginations, makes it racist. Yes, in some Olympic-level mental gymnastics, saying that whatever race you are isn't important, ie being against "racial essentialism" means that you are a racist. Such people think that the story doesn't address "structures of power" and "systemic oppression". This is true. It's instead a story about a sleazy businessman who goes in and preys on existing racial biases in order to make a buck, constantly telling people to think of their identities in terms of their outward appearance. You'd think the racial essentialists would appreciate the representation.

But I digress.

What about the images themselves? Are they racist? Not having seen all of them, I can't say for sure, but some are definitely cringy. Take the yellow skinned "Chinaman who eats with sticks" in And to Think That I Saw It on Mulberry Street. Though one could argue that the entire book uses only five colors: yellow, red, blue, and touches of purple and green, this man is the only human whose skin is colored at all. Later editions of this book have actually changed the image and text:

Honestly, I think this is fine. The meter still scans, and the image isn't straight-up removed. I mean, we could maybe discuss whether it's okay to alter an author's work, but he was alive when at least one of these these changes was made, so I think he allowed it.

Next we have some from If I Ran the Zoo, like this one, of some Asian dudes who "all wear their eyes at a slant":

I think, in this case, the text is the problem, but not the picture. Though some describe this image as "exotified", I think it's more just exaggerated, as are most of Dr. Seuss's characters. He doesn't do things half way. Aside from that, the picture is kind of cute and silly; nothing in it is derogatory or mean to the helpers. The text on the other hand... oof. Yeah, I would say this is a true example of something "offensive". I could see changing that (as long as the meter still scans!).

And then there are the fellows holding the tufted mazurka:

That's pretty bad. So bad that as a child, I don't think I actually registered that those were supposed to be humans, but rather other Seussian creatures. It doesn't help, again, that in his color pallet, people that would ordinarily be brown are now black-black, not unlike the most racist images of yesteryear. But the fact that their lips are left uncolored, I think, is what gets me. It's a little too close to black-face for comfort. Again, I think it would be okay to alter the image: color in their lips, change the shading. I know some people quibble with their costume, but some peoples do wear little amounts of clothing, so I don't think thats the issue here.

I can't speak to the other books, because I haven't seen those pictures, but I would say, yeah, some of the images and phrasing are problematic. I don't think that means the books are racist. Seuss isn't saying the Asian helpers or the African mazurka wranglers are less than the white child running the zoo. He is exotifying them to some degree, but the degree to which that is being done can, I believe, be fixed with very minor alterations.

Should the Books Be Banned?

Again, I think there are a couple questions here: are these books being banned, and should they be banned?

In our increasingly-willing-to-cancel culture, people like to talk about the difference between government censorship vs. corporate censorship, which is a valid topic. But when it comes to huge corporations like Amazon banning books from their website for hate speech or Ebay halting the ability of vendors to sell certain titles on their platform, to say "it’s a private corporation, so it's not censorship" is disingenuous. Maybe it doesn't violate the First Amendment, but it is censorship. A single bookstore refusing to sell a book, a single library refusing to carry a book, is censorship.

A single company that owns the rights to a book refusing to sell it is 100% censorship. I'm personally offended by the idea of any book being out-of-print in the day and age of print-on-demand, but I'm especially sickened when companies pull this nonsense. This is similar to foreign companies who refuse to publish novels, games, and videos in English copyright striking fanlations; they are not losing money, so why do they care?

In the case of the Seuss estate, or whoever owns the rights, all that they are doing is denying poor people access to books. That's right, if you can shell out $786 for a children's book, you can read these delightful stories. What's that? You're a single mom who works two jobs? Well, sucks to be you.

What's really vile is that people are saying, "It's only six books. You still have the others." First off, this is admitting that those six books are now censored and unavailable. Secondly, this is a stupid argument. It's like saying, "Well, the Nazi's didn't burn every book in Germany. There were plenty of others." What if I wanted to read the ones that were burned?

And that brings us to the question of whether or not those books ought to be banned. Heck, should they even be altered? Some of you might have balked at my saying I was fine with the images being changed; isn't that censorship? I think that would take it's own blog post, but here I'll just say that I don't think the changes I discussed would really alter the content, message, or meaning of the work. That being said, I don't think you have to change the images either.

That is, I think it's okay to publish, purchase, own, and read problematic material. As many commentators have pointed out, no child is going to be made into a racist by reading these books or seeing these images. Any racist or even iffy overtones are going to go right over their heads unless parents point them out. If, in the one in a million chance, your child actually notices anything wrong with the images, like "why is his skin yellow?" or something, then you can have a conversation about how sometimes, back in the day, people drew some not-so-nice pictures of Asian people and thought their skin should be painted as yellow, but we don't do that anymore, but this book was written a long time ago, etc etc. If they ask about what a Chinaman is, say it's an old word for a Chinese person, but you should never say it, because it can hurt people's feelings. Talk to your children; it isn't hard.

Should Any Books Be Banned

If you've been paying attention to what's been happening in book land lately, you'll know that Dr. Seuss's books are not the first to be put on the chopping block. Last year, Abigail Shrier's book, Irreversible Damage: The Transgender Craze Seducing Our Daughters, was removed from Target due to requests of trans activists. It was returned after backlash. Now I think it might be banned again? Who can even keep up anymore. Similarly, When Harry Became Sally: Responding to the Transgender Moment, by Ryan T. Anderson, has now been removed from Amazon for being "hate speech".

In the microcosm of the library world, I've had some people take issue with certain controversial books. When processing our new books, my part-timer picked up Irreversible Damage and asked, "Did someone request this?" as if we shouldn't have ordered it if they didn't. Both that book, and White Fragility: Why It's So Hard for White People to Talk About Racism, by Robin DiAngelo, were face out in our new book area, since they were the newest books. The former was turned backwards or put spine out with the older books multiple time by patrons, the latter turned backwards once. During the election, I found books for and against Trump hidden behind other books.

My question for people who do this in the library, and for corporations who do essentially the same thing on a massive scale, is who exactly do you think you are helping? Do you think anyone's mind is going to be changed on Trump? Or transgenderism, or white fragility, just by reading a book?

If the answer is "no", then why bother banning or hiding them? If the answer is yes, then that means you think books have the power to change minds, but you want to deny that opportunity to people. Rather than debating ideas, or writing a better book, or showing people why they shouldn't think a certain way, people are increasingly trying to banish certain ideas entirely. How dare an author question X, Y, or Z idea? How dare people be allowed to have an opinion different from the one we say they should!

What's so frustrating about cancel culture and censorship is that people think they really are trying to do the right thing. What they don't realize is, the people they cancel also think they are doing the right thing.

Take Irreversible Damage: obviously, those that want it banned think that trans kids will be hurt by the ideas expressed in the book, that they will be denied hormones and surgeries and so forth. I'm sure Abigail Shrier believes that trans kids would be hurt by no one examining the idea of wether or not they should be given hormones and surgeries as minors. Both sides care about kids. Both sides are trying to figure out how to help people. If you think that Shrier is wrong and her book is dangerous, then write a more compelling argument explaining why she's wrong.

An example of the right way to go about this is with White Fragility, a book that some people see as problematic, if not racist against white people or black people or both. People have written books specifically refuting the ideas in the book. Others have compiled titles that handle race more tactfully and that can be read instead. And that's the thing; you can choose what to read. You can choose never to read a book deemed problematic, but you have no right to take that choice away from other people.

Where Do Libraries Fall Into All This?

That "right to read" is one of the pillars or librarianship. The reason libraries exist is so that all people, regardless of money, have equal access to books, movies, and other aspects of our shared culture. We librarians understand that books are important not just for education, but also entertainment and escape. Stories are how we as humans process ideas, and everyone has a right to expose themselves to ideas--even controversial or dangerous or flat out wrong ones. They have the right to examine different sides of an issue and form their own conclusions. To try and control what a person reads is to try and control what they think, and no government or corporation has that right.

Thus, libraries don't ban books, wether those books are literary classics, modern treatises on current events and ideologies, or silly picture books by Dr. Seuss.

So it was with some concern that I got an email saying that our county library district would be taking the six Seuss books in question out of circulation. The rationale was that, given that a single book was selling for hundreds or thousands of dollars, some sticky-fingered patrons might steal then from the shelves or "lose" them after checking them out.

Though this logic was sound, I still had misgivings, especially because of incidences of library censorship in the past. Yes, even libraries have not been immune to the scourge. During the Cold War, some libraries would keep books about communism behind the reference desk so that people would have to ask to read them in the library. Not only did this potentially help identify commies, it also discouraged people from reading the books.

Thus, when our new policy is to keep the Seuss books "at the desk" and only let them be read in the library, is that not censorship? Is this accidental censorship, or perhaps intended by the very cancel culturists who want all problematic books to be sent down the memory hole?

No, I don't think it is, because--despite what the very mob who’s in favor of all of this would have you believe--intention matters. Reasons matter. We are not trying to make the books harder to read; we're trying to keep the books from becoming impossible to read. By protecting the books from theft, we're ensuring that the poor as well as the rich can enjoy Dr. Seuss's stories. This, in my mind, is similar to chained up bibles: it looks bad, until you remember that books were rare and expensive, and illuminated manuscripts even more so. If someone steals a book, no one gets to read it, but if a book is under lock and key, some people still can.

Of course, everyone could, if companies would simply stop censoring books, if stores would stop banning them, and if well-intentioned but short-sighted activists would stop digitally burning them. But maybe that's too much to hope for at present. For now, we librarians will have the books safe and sound for when you want to read them. You have only to ask.

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superheroesofbothuniverses · 4 years ago

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Natasha Gets All The Hot Guys

“Really, Natasha? You’ve added Bucky to your harem now? Why do you have to hog all the hot guys?”

Darcy griped at Black Widow as she sat across from her at the large dining table, plopping her fork down with a disgruntled air. The brand new poly four had just told the other avengers about their status and Thor had told Darcy, whose fan girl hopes and dreams were now crushed.

“It’s not a harem, Darcy, but thank you for the mental image,” Natasha replied calmly, adding a smug wink. “Besides: you snooze, you lose.”

They both watched as Bucky sauntered over and joined Nat, his plate groaning under the mountain of food.

“What’s with the long face, Darce?” He asked, going to town on his steak. The blissful expression on his face made her smile in spite of herself.

“I’m just bitter that Nat keeps snapping up all the hot dudes. Leave some for us science types. We need love too, ya know.”

She made a pouty face at him and he chuckled.

“Sorry, doll,” he said sympathetically. “We all kind of lost touch with the rest of you and things kind of…..fell into place. Heard you’ve been busy getting your PhD. Probably didn’t leave you much time for finding a man.”

Darcy smiled.

“Yeah, that’s true,” she admitted. “But I really am happy for you all. Steve looks ridiculously happy and it’s adorable. And you and Sam flirting in the gym? Hilarious.”

She rubbed her hands together gleefully.

Bucky raised his eyebrows.

“You been spying, Darce? I’ve never seen you in the gym.”

Darcy grinned evilly.

“I will not reveal my sources.”

Bucky gave her an exasperated look, but he was smiling.

“You always were a little shit, Lewis. Seems that nothing has changed.”

“Nope!” she declared cheerfully. “Someone’s gotta keep you heroes on your toes. I’m grateful they invited me to this shindig. The food is top notch.”

It was basically a glorified reunion and celebration over the abolishment of the Accords. In the beginning, they’d seemed like a good idea to some of them, but after the bitter fall out of their fights and the subsequent reality of just how problematic the Accords actually were, well, no one wanted anything to do with them. Darcy had never trusted anyone named Ross and wasn’t about to start now.

She pushed her empty plate away from her with a satisfied sigh.

“Well, I’m gonna go bother Captain Spangles for a few minutes. Enjoy your red meat.”

Getting up from the table, she sauntered over to Steve who was chatting happily with Sam, Scott, and Wanda.

Bucky returned to his meal with relish, only stopping when he’d demolished everything on his plate. Nat had scooted her chair closer to his and was leaning against him contentedly, caressing his metal arm.

“You know, James, I’m thinking I know of a “hot guy” that would be an interesting match for Darcy.”

“Do you now?” Bucky asked, smirking at the idea of Nat matchmaking again. Her skill set made her very good at finding potential dates for other people and he’d learned to just roll with it.

“Yep. He was pretty insufferable and immature back in the day, but the last time I worked with him, he seemed to have grown up a lot. He would give Darcy a run for her money, I believe.”

“Do I know him?” Bucky asked curiously, wracking his brain.

“You know him as Flame Boy,” she told him, grinning at Bucky’s expression as he understood who she meant. They’d met the Fantastic Four briefly and Clint’s old nickname for Johnny had stuck, much to the man’s displeasure.

“Oh man,” he chuckled. “This is gonna be good.”

Two weeks later, Darcy was hiding from yet another alien invasion and being frustrated that her taser did not affect the creatures.

“Please tell me you’re sending help!” She yelled into her phone to Clint.

“We are, but it’s not who you might expect. Stark had to call in extra help, because these things are multiplying really fast.”

“Just tell me who it is!” She snapped impatiently, braining an alien lizard thing with a brick. The creatures weren’t all that bright, but there were a LOT of them.

“The Human Torch, aka Flame Boy, is gonna zoom by in a minute and take you to to the tower.”

“Human Torch? What kind of dumb name is that?” Darcy scoffed. Clint had already hung up, so she returned to her attempts to not get eaten. Another five lizard things surrounded her and she almost groaned in despair. Just as she had resigned herself to being lizard chow, a car screeched to a stop and a ball of fire flew overhead and right at the creatures, bombarding them with flames and sending them screeching away, howling in pain. She gaped in awe as the ball of fire landed a few yards away and revealed itself as a man wearing a tight fireproof suit. As the flames died away, she stared in shock at the smiling face of Johnny Storm himself.

“Dr. Lewis?” he asked. “I’m here with your ride.”

He gestured towards a very shiny bright yellow Lamborghini and Darcy felt a touch faint.

“You’re the Human Torch?” she asked cautiously.

“Yep.” He confirmed, with a nod and smile that reminded her a lot of Steve Rogers. “I’d suggest we get out of here before more of those things show up. Like my chariot?”

“It’s pretty sweet, I admit,” Darcy said as he unlocked the doors and opened hers for her.

“Ohh. A gentleman.” She said teasingly. “Didn’t know you had it in you, Mr. Serial Seducer.”

She had heard tales of Johnny’s bedroom exploits, but had never heard his superhero moniker. It definitely made sense, now.

Johnny’s face turned red, but he took the jibe in stride.

“Occasionally, I have my moments,” he said, giving her a smirk as he started the car and got them the heck out of there.

“So, Astrophysics?” He asked her as he took a shortcut down a side street to avoid a blocked off street chocked with lizard things. Thy looked a lot like the Gorns from Star Trek, Darcy thought with a shudder.

“Yes.” She nodded proudly. “I’m surprised you knew that.”

“A certain distant cousin of mine thinks of you very highly and made sure I was properly briefed,” Johnny said. “There may have been threats of bodily harm if I said something inappropriate.”

Darcy leaned her head back and laughed until her sides ached. Well known playboy Johnny was related to straight laced Steve Rogers? The universe sure did have a sense of humor. She imagined Steve threatening Johnny and wheezed as tears of mirth streamed down her cheeks.

“Well, I can very much see the family resemblance,” she giggled. “Looks only, though. Oh, my gosh, this is the best.”

“I’m glad you think so.” Johnny said with a reluctant chuckle. His annoyance at yet another comparison to Rogers was dampened by how adorable her laugh was. He thought he could listen to that for hours.

“Steve said you’d taze me in the balls if I said something gross.”

“He was right, bless him,” Darcy said, appreciating Steve even more. “But seriously, that flame ball was awesome.”

“It comes in handy sometimes,” Johnny said with surprising modesty. Darcy looked him over again and wondered if the years had toned him down from the egotistical kid he’d once been. It was a good look on him, she thought.

“Steve failed to mention just how pretty you are,” Johnny said after a few beats of silence. “Does the man have eyes?”

“He does, but only for a certain fly boy and two deadly assassins,” Darcy said, laughing and blushing a bit at the compliment.

Johnny’s eyebrows flew up.

“Wow, Cap’s got game! But he must care about his friends, too or he wouldn’t get so protective over you.”

“He’s a good dude,” Darcy agreed, as the car pulled into the tower parking area. Security was tight, but Darcy flashed her ID and soon they were parking.

Johnny got out and once again opened the door for her.

“Well, hopefully we’ll run into each other again,” he said, trying to sound casual. Darcy got the sense he was very interested, but reining himself in. It was rather cute.

“Maybe we will, Preferably when there’s no lizard aliens trying to eat us,” she replied. “Stark’s got a big charity gala coming up and I may be there.”

He broke out in a grin and nodded.

“Good to know. Stay safe, Doctor. I’m gonna go scorch some more lizards.”

“Don’t get dead, flame boy!” She called over her shoulder as she turned away. Surprisingly, Darcy looked forward to getting to know what made Johnny Storm tick. Maybe her luck had finally changed. If he turned out to be a keeper, she was not gonna let Nat snatch him up, no sireee.

#tasertorch #barbershop quartet #natasha x steve x sam x bucky #darcy lewis #johnny storm

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itsclydebitches · 4 years ago

Note

Is buying the new Harry Potter game supporting transphobes because I've been seeing a lot of that on twitter? Not playing it. Pirating is fine, but actually paying for it.

Hi, anon!

I’ve seen a lot of the same and had initially thought to post my thoughts on the issue… before I got a very angry ask condemning me for a post where I admitted that I thought the game looked great and was excited to play it. I can no longer link to that post because I deleted it: a late night, impulsive decision made in an effort to try and protect myself from further flaming. Thus, I considered ignoring this ask under the same justification… before realizing that it might not matter in the long run. The Harry Potter: Legacy trailer has been out for just a few days and already I have gotten that furious ask, been told off by a friend for mentioning the trailer, and was questioned (antagonistically) about why I had added a Harry Potter related book to my Goodreads list. They’re small and potentially coincidental anecdotes, but it feels as if any engagement with Harry Potter is slowly coming under scrutiny, not just the (supposed—more on that below) crime of purchasing the new game. Given that I will always engage with Harry Potter related media, if there’s any chance such subtle criticism will continue regardless of whether I make the “right” choice to boycott the game or not, I might as well explain my position. Especially for someone who asked politely! Thanks for that 💜.

Which leads to the disclaimer: Any anon hate will be unceremoniously deleted. This is a complicated issue and I intend to write about it as such. I ask that any readers go into this post with good faith and a willingness to acknowledge that this situation isn’t as black and white as they may prefer it to be. If that’s not something you can emotionally handle—which is 100% fine. Some subjects we’re simply not inclined to debate—or if you’re just looking to get in a cheap shot, please hit the back button.

Right. Introduction done. Now here’s the tl;dr: saying things like “Buying this game is inherently selfish/transphobic” isn’t the hot take people want it to be. Is boycotting Legacy one (very small—we’ll get to that too) way of showing support for the trans community? Yes. Is buying the game proof that you’re a selfish transphobe? No. This isn’t a bad SAT question. Legacy boycotters are to trans supporters as Legacy buyers are to ___? The argument that someone is selfish for buying the game is basically that you are choosing a non-essential video game over the respect and lives of trans individuals, but the logic breaks down when we acknowledge that purchasing a game has no real life impact on a trans individual’s safety, support, etc.

“But Clyde, you’re giving Rowling money. She is then using that money to support anti-trans organizations. Thus, you have actively put more harm into the world.” Have I? I’m not going to get into whether/how much/what kind of money Rowling is receiving from this project because the fact is we don’t know and we’ll likely never know. Suffice to say, she probably will get some portion of any $60/$70 purchase. The real question is whether those sales have any meaningful impact. Reputable information on Rowling’s net worth is hard to come by, but it seems to be somewhere between 600 million and 1 billion pounds. Or, to put it another way: a fuck ton. And money keeps rolling in from a franchise that is so, so much bigger than a single video game. It literally doesn’t matter how much money you might put in her pocket via Legacy because she’s already so goddamn rich she can do whatever she wants. If Rowling wants to give a million dollars to the heinous “charity” of her choice, she can. She will. You are not directly contributing to this horror because that money may as well already exist. Every person in the world could refuse to buy this game and she’d shrug, going about her disgusting life because it literally does not affect her in any meaningful way. You’re refusing to give the murderer a knife when they’re got direct access to a knife-making factory. Horrible as it is to hear, you can’t stop them from doing something horrific with that tool.

For me, this is the straw argument of the Harry Potter world. Not straw as in strawman, but literally straws. Remember how everyone was talking about plastic straws, swore off them, and subsequently deemed anyone who still used one to be selfish people who didn’t care about the environment? It didn’t matter if you had a certified “good” reason for using one (disability) or a “selfish” reason (carrying straws everywhere on the off chance you wanted a drink is a pain in the ass)—you’re a horrible person who wants the planet to die. Same deal here. If you can swear off straws, great! Do what tiny bit of good you can. But if you can’t or even don’t want to give them up, the reality is that your “selfishness” doesn’t make a significant difference in the world. The amount of plastic corporations are pouring into the ocean makes your actions inconsequential. It’s not like voting where every small, individual act adds up to a significant total. This is your lack up against others’ staggering abundance. It’s not adding a few drops of water until you have a full bucket, it’s trying to un-flood the boat with a teaspoon while someone else is spraying it with the hose. Have you, on the most technical level, made a difference by moving that teaspoon of water out of the boat? Yes. Is it a difference that holds any meaning in regards to the desired outcome? Not really. Now apply all that to Rowling. She is so phenomenally wealthy—with additional wealth coming in every day—that your purchase of Legacy is a teaspoon of water in her ocean of funds. It’s inconsequential.

“But Clyde, buying this game would support her and supporting her sends the message that what she believes is okay.” Exact same argument as above. JKR’s fame is so astronomical that no video-game boycott could ever make a dent in it. For every 100 people who swear off her work there are another 1,000 who continue to engage with both her writing and the writing related to her world because she is that prominent. Harry Potter is one of the largest franchises of all time, second only to things like Pokémon and Star Wars. This isn’t some indie creator who you can ignore into silence. The reality is that Rowling is here to stay and we have to take far more substantial acts to counteract that influence.

Even more importantly, buying the game is not evidence that you support her views and the black and white belief that it does is an easy distraction from those harder “How do we improve the lives of trans people?” questions. I started compiling a list of stories with problematic authors only to realize the number of incredibly popular texts with awful histories attached to them unnecessarily increased the length of an already long post. Everything from Game of Thrones to Dr. Seuss—if you love it, chances are one of the authors involved has a history of misogyny, racism, homophobia, etc. Which I don’t say as a way of excusing these authors, nor as a way to silence the justified and necessary call outs on their work. Rather, I bring this up to acknowledge that engaging with these stories cannot be concrete evidence for how you view the minority group in question. The reasons for consuming these stories are incalculable and at the end of the day no one needs a “correct” reason for that consumption (my teacher forced me to read the racist book, I only watched the homophobic TV show so I could call out how horrible it was, etc.) If fiction were an indicator of our real life beliefs we’d all be the most horrifying creatures imaginable. I may be severely uncomfortable with the queer baiting in Supernatural, but if a friend says they bought the DVD collection my response is not, “How dare you support those creators. You’re homophobic.” In the same way, someone purchasing Legacy should not generate the response, “How dare you support her. You’re transphobic.” There’s a miles’ worth of pitfalls in connecting the statements “You purchased a game based on the world created by a transphobic author” and “You yourself are transphobic.”

So if buying Legacy does not add additional harm to the trans community from a financial perspective, and it doesn’t make a dent in Rowling’s platform, and playing a game is not evidence of your feelings towards the group the author hates… what are we left with? “But Clyde, it’s the principal of the thing. I don’t want to support a TERF” and that is an excellent argument. Your morals. Your ethics. What you can stomach having done or not done. But the “your” is incredibly important there. People need to understand that this is their own line in the sand and that if someone else’s line is different, that doesn’t mean they’re automatically a worse person than you. For example, I have made the choice not to eat at Chick-Fil-A. Not because I believe that me not giving them $3.75 for a sandwich will make a difference in their influence on the world, but because it makes a difference to me. It helps me sleep at night. So if not purchasing Legacy helps you sleep at night? That’s a fantastic reason not to buy it. But the flipside is that if someone else does purchase it that is not a reliable reflection of their morals, no more than I think my friends are homophobic for grabbing lunch at Chick-Fil-A now and then. Sometimes you just want a sandwich.

“But Clyde, why would you want to buy it? Rowling is such a shit-stain I don’t understand how anyone can stomach supporting her—whether that support has an impact or not. Maybe someone eats at Chick-Fil-A because it’s close to them and they’re too busy to go elsewhere, or it’s all they can afford, or they don’t know how homophobic they are. There are lots of reasons to explain something like that. But you’re not ignorant to Rowling’s problem and there’s no scenario where you have to play this game, let alone spend money on it. So why?”

The reality is that I will likely be buying Legacy, second-hand if I can, but new if it comes to that, so I’ll give some of my personal answers here, in descending order of presumed selfishness:

5. Part of my work involves studying video games/Harry Potter and as a researcher of popular culture, my career depends on keeping up with major releases: good and bad. I often engage with stories I wholeheartedly disagree with for academic purposes, like Fifty Shades of Gray.

4. I find the “Just pirate it!” solution to be flawed. I’ve spent the last four months struggling to get my laptop fixed and I currently have no income to buy another if it were to suddenly develop a larger problem. I am not going to risk my $2,000 lifeline on an illegal download, no matter how safe and easy the Internet insists it is.

3. We’ve been told that Rowling has not been involved in Legacy in any significant manner and I do want to support Portkey. No, not just financially because I know many others have insisted that everyone good has already been paid. Game companies still need to sell games. That’s why they exist. There’s a possibility that a company with just two mobile games under its belt will be in trouble if this completely flops. Is my purchase going to make or break things? No. Same reality as whether it will put new, influential money in Rowling’s pocket to do horrific things with. But I’d like to help a company that looks as if they put a lot of heart and energy into a game only to get hit with some real shit circumstances outside of their control. Even if they’re not impacted financially or career-wise… art is meant to be consumed. I know if I wrote a Harry Potter fic and everyone boycotted it because they want nothing to do with Rowling anymore, I’d be devastated. Sometimes, you can’t separate supporting the good people from supporting the bad. Not in a media landscape where thousands of people are involved in singular projects.

2. I’m invested in reclaiming excellent works created by horrible authors. That’s fandom! We don’t know much about Legacy yet—this is pure, unsubstantiated speculation—but this new story could be a step forward from Rowling’s books, giving us some of the respect for minority groups that she failed at. That’s the sort of work I want to promote because Harry Potter as a concept is great and I think it’s worth transforming it for our own needs and desires. The reality is that as long as Rowling is alive she’ll benefit from licensed material, but if that material can start taking her world in better directions? I want to support that too.

1. I literally just want to play it. That’s it. That’s my big justification. I think it looks phenomenal and I was itching to get my hands on it the second the trailer dropped. And you know what? I’m not in a good place right now to deny myself things I enjoy. I don’t need to tell anyone that 2020 has been an absolute horror show, but for me certain things have made it a horror show with a cherry on top. Not a lot gets me excited right now because we’re living in the worst fucking timeline, so when I find something that makes me feel positive emotions for a hot second I want to hang onto it. I have no desire to set aside that spark of happiness in a traumatic world because people on the Internet think it makes me selfish. Maybe it does, but I’m willing to let myself be a bit selfish right now.

Which circles back to this issue of equating buying a game with active harm towards the trans community. It honestly worries me because this is a very, very easy way to avoid the harder, messier activism that will actually help the queer community. When someone says things like, “You’re choosing a stupid video game over trans lives” that activism is performative. Not only—as demonstrated above—is purchasing a game not a threat to trans lives or ignoring the game a way of protecting trans lives, it also gives people an incredibly easy out while still seeming ‘woke.’ Not all people. Maybe not even a significant portion of people, but enough people to be worrisome. “I’m not purchasing that game,” some people post and then that’s it. That’s all they do, yet they feel like they’ve done their duty when in fact they’ve made no active difference in the world. Are you donating to trans charities? Are you speaking up for your trans friends when someone accosts them? Are you circulating media by trans authors? Are you educating your family about trans issues? Are you listening to trans individuals and continually trying to educate yourself? These are the things that make a difference, not shaming others for buying a game.

All of this is not meant to be an argument that people shouldn’t be absolutely revolted by Rowling’s beliefs (they should) and that this revulsion can’t take the form of rejecting this game wholeheartedly. This isn’t even meant to be an argument that you shouldn’t encourage others to boycott because though the financial impact may be negligible, the emotional impact for you is very real. I 100% support anyone who wants to chuck this game into the trash and never talk about it again—for any reason. All this is meant to argue is that people shouldn’t judge others based on whether they purchase this game (with a side argument that we can’t limit our activism to that shaming). That’s their decision and this decision, significantly, does not add any real harm to the world. Your fellow Harry Potter fan is not the enemy here. We as a community should not be turning our visceral on one another. Turn it on Rowling. She’s the TERF, not the individual who, for whatever reason, decided they wanted to play the game only tangentially related to her.

If Twitter and Tumblr are any indication, I can imagine the sort of responses this post may generate: “That’s a whole lot of talk to try and convince us you’re not a transphobe :/ ” For those of you who are determined to simply things to that extent, there’s nothing I can say that will change your mind. Please re-read the disclaimer and consider whether yelling at me over anon will benefit the trans community. For those of you who are still here, I do legitimately want us to think critically about the kinds of activism we’re engaging in, how performative it might be, whether it harms the community in any way, and (most significantly) whether it’s actually moving us towards a safe, respective world for trans people to live in. Personally, I don’t think telling Harry Potter fans that they’re transphobic for buying Legacy will generate any good in this world, for them or for the trans community.

At the end of the day only you can decide whether you can stomach buying this game or not. Decide that for yourself, but make that decision knowing that there’s no wrong answer here.

#harry potter #mymetas #Anonymous

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hideawayintheimaginationworld · 4 years ago

Note

Alec is out late with friends on a weekend and he gets a text from Fetch to come home because Lefty is worried about him but won't text him himself because he doesn't want to come off as too controlling.

Tym 2 come hom

Alec didn’t initially understand the wording, he knew it was Fetch based on the strange texting language, he also didn’t understand why Fetch had texted him in particular, yes Fetch was synced to everyone's phone and would text them if necessary but he mainly communicated with Greg and Lefty.

His phone then received another message:

U need 2 come hom

Was Fetch asking him to come home?

He did see the time on his phone screen said 10:45 pm, he had been given permission by Lefty to go to the movies with some boys from school, the movie ended a while ago and Alec had decided to grab something to eat, he was just sitting inside the fast food place after eating just using the WiFi to watch videos on his phone.

Now Fetch was texting him.

Fetch had only texted him three times before, once because Fetch couldn’t get in touch with Greg, unaware Greg's phone battery died earlier.

RU on UR way now Alec?

Alec stood up, he had already decided it was time to go home but he decided to respond to Fetch first:

I'll be home in twenty minutes

Fetch responded:

C U soon

Alec checked the time before he went inside the house, he knew Lefty wasn’t particularly about curfews but Lefty did say before for everyone, which included himself, Ralpho, Sarah, Millie, Pete, Oscar, Stanley, Matt and everyone else, that it was a good idea to not be out of the property after midnight. The reason being that there were threats Lefty hadn’t captured yet, like Funtime Freddy, Alec hadn’t seen him aside from pictures but Lefty warned him enough that Funtime Freddy could potentially be stalking Millie and might be coming to watch the house after midnight for an opportunity to grab someone.

Creatures like Plushtrap, Eleanor, and Foxy were also problematic, and the reasons why the doors were impossible to break complete with multiple locks that would give enough time for Lefty to get a spell ready to repel them.

Nothing bad had happened so far, Lefty did say he was certain Eleanor showed up a few nights ago because Fetch kept barking at the window and Lefty saw a tall figure running down the street, obviously spooked by Fetch barking.

Alec pushed the door open, then closed it behind him, he immediately saw in the living room, Lefty was sitting on the sofa, and Fetch was next to him, he appeared to be asleep.

Lefty looked over at him, “Oh you're home...”

“Yes, I live here.”

“I just didn’t know when you would be coming home, that's all,” Lefty answered.

“Fetch texted me to come home,” Alec told him.

“I didn’t notice that he did,” Lefty looked at the dog who was at his side, Fetch slowly opened one of his eyes and looked at Alec.

Alec's phone buzzed, he figured Fetch had chimed in with something and looked at what he said:

Lefty was worried abt U

Alec nodded, Fetch then added on:

He won’t admit

Lefty don’t wna ctrl U

Alec interpreted that as Lefty wanting to let him have freedoms but not wanting him to get hurt by those freedoms.

He noticed from the very first time he met him that even with him unaware who he was, he saw Lefty was trying to protect Helpy from a potential threat. Then when Alec said who he was, Lefty was always looking out for him, at the time Alec was a two-foot Lonely Freddy and could disappear into the vents, Alec even got trapped in a pipe once after he fell into it and it wasn’t fun, Lefty did pull him out when he found him. Lefty was not just looking out for him, but protecting him like how a parent would.

Alec did realise after he was put back into his body that the family life he thought he wanted for several months wasn’t the one he needed.

That was months ago, and Hazel had followed him to this new life with Lefty and the others.

Lefty was still sort of new to being a parent, technically he had eight kids to watch out for, him and his sister included.

“You know if you want me to come home, just text me,” Alec said to Lefty, he didn't want Lefty to worry about him.

“Well, you know what I said... don’t be outside after midnight.”

The whole midnight thing wasn’t as much of a curfew as it was a safety rule, Alec was fine to follow any rules Lefty had because they weren’t unreasonable, Lefty expected him to do homework and chores but he was okay when Alec wanted to take a break, play games and go out for the afternoon, Lefty had never fought with him or scolded him.

“I wouldn’t,” Alec answered, “Because I know you don’t me to get hurt.”

“I don’t want anyone in this house hurt,” Lefty seemed to correct him.

“Not even Matt?”

Alec had spoken the name of an adult man they recently met, Alec knew Lefty was having arguments with Matt regularly but they seem to be less now.

“Me and Matt are establishing a better relationship,” Lefty explained, “He's starting to break a lot of bad habits, I think Spring could also to be thanked for that, I mean yes what happened wasn’t nice but it was a wake-up call, and in a way... everyone here has had some sort of wake up call.”

Alec felt like he had two wake-up calls:

When he realised Hazel wasn’t a manipulative brat, and when he realised he was a lot happier when Lefty was filling the parent role better than his own parents.

“Regardless no one in my opinion deserves to be attacked by a rogue robot.”

“What about the people created Lonely Freddy?”

“Well... I already showed those people their actions have consequences and Karma's a bitch.”

“Well, you are Karma then.”

Lefty chuckled at that, “I guess I am.”

“So not grounded for being out past eleven?”

Lefty shook his head, “Alec, I don’t really ground anyone, you know that but I'd like you to go to bed now, you need to have at least 9 and half hours of sleep.”

Lefty didn't particularly enforce an exact time for sleep, he did however liked everyone to be asleep by eleven, and he said Hazel and Chuck should have about 10 hours of sleep.

Alec nodded, “Okay, goodnight dad.”

Alec did occasionally call him Dad but not always, Lefty wouldn't force it, Alec never saw how Lefty would smile when he heard that.

“Goodnight Alec...” Lefty responded as Alec disappeared upstairs out of view.

Lefty looked at Fetch, who turned his head to him and gave him the innocent look like he did nothing wrong, he gave that look yesterday when he tracked in mud on the kitchen floor.

Lefty saw Fetch had sent him a message on his phone.

U need 2 jus communicate wn U'D lk him 2be hom

“I guess I need to do that... I mean... he's legally my kid now, heck I even considered him my kid long before, I put in the effort that his real parents never did,” Lefty said, ”I don't want to come off as controlling, however.”

I nvr met Alec's M&D but dey don’t sound gd like Greg's, U btr parent 4 them all

“Ian and Meg aren’t the same as Greg's parents...” Lefty told him, “I don’t like talking to Ian or Meg, but I’ve threatened Greg's father saying if he ever hurts him again then he better start running immediately because I won’t be held back this time by anyone.”

Fetch growled at the mention of Greg's father, something they both hated was Greg's father, he then shook his head and yawned.

Bedtime

“Yes, let's go to bed, Alec's back home now, just go to bed, I'm going to have a quick look, make sure everyone is actually asleep,” Lefty stood up from the sofa and went upstairs, Fetch followed behind him.

Lefty checked on Hazel and Ralpho first, he liked her for some reason so he often jumped on her bed while no one else was looking and fell asleep there, he then checked on Sarah and Millie, who were both asleep in their bed. Delilah also was asleep, with her alarm set for eight AM so she could go to work, Stanley, Matt and Spring were asleep.

The boys all were asleep, Alec obviously would still be conscious but his eyes were closed, the only things Lefty noticed was Pete didn’t take off his hat so it was still on his head and Oscar had his phone in his hands, he obviously fell asleep while texting Issac and Raj.

Lefty then snuck to bed, Fetch had already taken his place on the big dog bed in the corner near the door, Lefty walked pass him, he took off his hat and bow tie then laid down, drifting into a dreamless sleep.

That was until Fetch woke him at eight, asking for breakfast like he always did.

#Ask #I wrote about it but I might make it a short comic because this idea good #I wrote this in about 2 hours #For the record this probably would happen #Lefty trying to be a good parent but he doesn’t want Alec to hate him #five nights at freddy's #fazbear frights #Lonely Freddy #FNAF Alec #Lefty #FNAF Lefty #FNAF Fetch #Writing Drabble

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ellanainthetardis · 5 years ago

Text

Alright, this will be my review for The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes so obviously spoilers under the cut.

Also obviously, this is my opinion, I force no one to share it and I’m happy to discuss the book with anyone who wants to.

First off, I won’t go into all the deep themes in the books. It seems obvious to me there’s a very clever allegory for a contrat social at work here but since I am not very much interested in that, I will leave it aside. It’s well done, I think, but I am more a character driven sort of reader than theme driven and the debate over “are we the product of our environment or is man a beast at heart” is a bit null here. Surely enough, as one of the quotes at the beginning implies, the whole book more or less struggles to show Dr Gaul somehow turns Coryo into a monster to her Frankenstein… Sure, he seems to hesitate between right and wrong, the nature of the two etc etc. But, really, I have troubles relating to a character questioning the nature of man when that character is so plainly a psychopath himself.

I’m sorry. I said it.

Did I love Snow in this book? Sure. Even when he was being bad, I loved him. What’s not to love? He’s completely over-dramatic. All the time. He’s a complex character with Draco Malfoy vibes and who tries to do well by his family. But he is also sick in the head and that predates Dr Gaul’s little mind games. Can we argue it’s because of his traumatic childhood? Maybe. It doesn’t change the fact he equals love with possession, does not seem to experience remorse nor guilt – or at least not very long and he’s very quick to rationalize it – and has a natural ability to mimic or force himself to act as is expected in any given situation. He doesn’t react to things, you will notice, he behaves the way he thinks people expects him to.

So, he is sick. And since he is sick, the whole debate through his head about the nature of violence, men being beasts without laws, freedom versus enforcement, right and wrong, etc seems void.

Let’s leave that aside for now.

The question you will probably ask me is: did you like the book? And the answer I will give is yes I did. I did enjoy the book. At least the first two third of it.

It’s fast paced, it’s engaging, it’s easy to read…

What I like most is the worldbuilding. What a difference a 3rd pov makes… I mean we finally got all the world building we deserved. And the names. Actually, there were so many names in there I’m pretty sure she threw them as a joke. But, yeah. Everything I reproach Thg was fixed here: we have a more consistent idea of how the Games work out of the arena, we know the currency used is dollars (which we didn’t up until now), we have a better idea of how the Capitol works as a society, about the working of Peacekeepers and Districts… I quite enjoyed learning more about the 1st war and the post war world too.

I also enjoyed the Capitol families Cameos – and I was very wary about them if you read some of my posts pre-released. They were nice nods, it wasn’t too on the nose… I am relieved beyond measure not to have seen a mention of an Abernathy or a Trinket – or an Everdeen or a Mellark, I guess – mostly because that means we are still free to stick to our own hcs. (it’s not that important but still).

The cast of characters were all great – with two notable exceptions but I will come back to that.

I loved Snow’s family. What a surprise to find out Tigris is a Snow? But what joy she is. I really enjoyed her character but I have to say I’m a bit disappointed we didn’t get to see (or at least were told in the epilogue) how they grow apart or how she comes to have whiskers. The Grandma’am was an awesome addition too. Lucy Gray, the Coveys, the Peacekeepers, Sejanus, the other mentors… They were great.

I will argue that maybe Lucy Gray, as a main character (second main character? She’s the yin to his yang in this book) could have been more fleshed out because when it comes down to it, she seems to float around in the story only in relation to Snow. This being said and the pov being mostly Snow’s, it’s coherent with his egocentric view of the world. And I’m sure a lot of people will argue the case that her only purpose being to die so he can get over love is a bit problematic better than I could.

The two characters that I think were disappointing were the “villains” of the tale: Dr Gaul and Highbottom. They were actually so disappointing that I spent a good portion of the book convinced that here was some kind of secret plot, that there would be a conspiracy or something. But no, they were just that… flat.

Highbottom first: the creator of the Hunger Games who, obviously, didn’t mean to and ends up doctoring himself with morphling to forget. And seems to hate Coryo (yes that’s Snow’s nickname) for no obvious reason. I was sure there must be some twist but no, it just turned out he hates Snow because his father stole his Hunger Games idea to pitch it to Gaul for a grade and now he’s responsible for the death of kids. Which, I mean, is valid. But since it’s only here to bring into contrast the “is Snow really bad or have the circumstances make him bad” when, really, he’s a psycho, it ends up being very disappointing on discovery – never mind as the final reveal of the epilogue.

As for Gaul. Is she terrifying? I mean, for a young adult book, sure, I guess. She’s too obviously mean and crazy scientist for me though. I like my villains a little more subtle. She spent her times torturing her pet rabbit and various animals ffs. All she needed was a mustache to twirl. She’s cliché and, again, I’m sure it was like that for rhetoric purposes but… She’s Frankenstein and Snow is her creature, we get it. Why though? She takes a shine to him and proceeds to groom him so he can deliver the world she wants? So he’s her legacy? Because she’s a psycho too and she needs an apprentice? I thought that part was a little fishy because, at the end of the day… I don’t know, it seems a bit random.

But, I suppose, yet again, everything has to revolve around Snow in the book and in Panem.

And we’re touching to the part that annoyed me to death, that really really angered me and that, right now as we speak, I am a little disgusted by.

A short word first about the fan service. And there was plenty of that to go around. All the little wink wink, nudge nudge made me smile at first (like the grandma saying it only takes a spark for fire to catch, that sort of things), it was subtle so it worked. But as the book goes on, all the references built to the point I was sort of terrified Katniss would end up being related to Snow. And while she is not, I am fairly convinced she’s descended from the Coveys, it makes a lot of sense.

Ok… Where to start with that part and be coherent…

The less offensive (yes, I am using that word because it was offending to me) thing was Snow’s recurring reflection about the mockingjays. On hindsight, of course, it has so much more meaning than what is going on on paper, so it made sense and while it was a bit sold too thick, it was also interesting. That’s something I’m willing to grant was good.

I also liked the “it’s not over until the Mockingjay sings” saying. To be honest, I was 100% confident the epilogue would be a flashforward to the end of MJ and that quote would somehow come back into play but apparently not, that’s for us to fanfic instead.

Now, as for the rest… I am going to speak as someone who loves Haymitch Abernathy an unhealthy amount, and while I speak as someone who loves Haymitch, I also feel it is only minorly about Haymitch and a lot about Katniss, Peeta and the rest of the victors. But Haymitch is my favorite character in the series, Haymitch is a big part of why I have dedicated so much time writing fanfics and contributing to the fandom, I am very protective of Haymitch. And, on his behalf, I am so deeply, deeply offended.

In this book, Suzanne Collins makes Snow a victor.

We can argue the semantics. Naturally, he didn’t actually win the Hunger Games.

Or does he?

Because there are no winners, only survivors and by that very definition Coriolanus Snow is a victor.

Coriolanus Snow walked into an arena, was forced into the arena.

Coriolanus Snow fought in the arena.

Coriolanus Snow killed someone in the arena.

Coriolanus Snow walked back out of the arena.

He survived.

It makes him a de facto victor. He is actually literally called that a couple of times throughout the book. It’s reinforced by the idea that mentor and tribute are a team, even.

And this very idea that Snow is a victor, has been a victor all along, is so deeply, deeply upsetting to me. The bond between victors, it’s something very special, I feel. Victors share something nobody else can understand – my very favorite part of the whole series is in Catching Fire when they hold hands, it is such a strong emotional moment, it always moves me, always. And Snow being a part of that defiles it. Worse, that means a victor was actually the one imposing such horrors on other victors all along.

And that’s… I mean, probably in terms of themes and the story as an independent object, it’s all very ironic and dark and full of great meaning about man and it’s condition. But for someone who loves Haymitch, it is very deeply offending to learn the man who has taken everything from him went through the same experience he did, that they share that bond, that they have so many similarities.

Too many similarities actually. And here we are going to branch out on TBOSAS in relation to Katniss more specifically.

That’s another thing I am not sure I liked: how similar Snow’s conditions were to our beloved characters. The starvation, the very similar experience they had growing up.

At first, I didn’t mind it. I thought, even, that it was quite fitting. But the problem came when so much of Katniss’ story was being… stolen, turned around. It started feeling like this book was subverting the powerful story in THG, not just the main plot, but everlark, and the character building. So, of course, here again, it’s probably a matter of questioning if, stemming from the same conditions, you become a hero or a villain. Nature or nurture. That sort of things. And, again, it depends if you look at the big picture and analyze it calmly or if you react with your guts as a fan, I guess. Yeah, no surprise, I’m going the fan route.

So there were a lot of parallels to Katniss.

The starvation. The strong sense of family. Lucy and the singing…

And it wasn’t limited to Katniss, it touched to everlark too.

The star-crossed lovers thing comes to mind obviously (and I want to talk about the ship too but after). Then, there was the bread thing that was both Snow’s and Lucy’s favorite and the fact that Snow brings her food all the time. The poison in the arena we can land at snow’s door since it’s his weapon of choice, but still poison in the arena, my mind goes straight to the berries… (I will tackle the hanging tree song after)

At this point (before she goes in the arena), I was still mostly okay with it because I thought it would somehow have a reason later. Like either Katniss would turn out to be related to Lucy or it would remain light enough to turn out to be foreshadowing for THG.

Then came part 3. And that’s where the book mostly lost me.

There are eleven other Districts in Panem. So why Twelve? And if it had to be Twelve why pollute everything Katniss loves? How are we supposed to see those things the same way again when we know what we now know?

The meadow? The meadow where the toastbabies are dancing and running? Where so many people are laid to rest? Snow has been there, kissed his girl there. And let me tell you, as a Haymitch fan, knowing that Haymitch never gets to reunite with his girl in the meadow because of Snow, it’s a special kind of pain to read Coryo frolicking there in the grass “with his girl”.

And then, of course, I don’t know what is worse… The lake or the song?

Let’s start with the lake. Where do I begin? The lake that is so special to Katniss? The little shack where she stocks everything? The lake that features into so many fanfictions and that, if some people feel the same way I do, can never be used again the same way? So, that lake was where Snow murdered (possibly) his “love”. The lake, thus, becomes a part of Snow’s narrative.

It’s stolen away from Katniss.

And to better stress that point? The scene with the Mockingjays taking up the hanging tree when Lucy is about to get murdered. (let’s make a digression to say oh boy how fun it must have been for Snow during mj, I’m very tempted to fanfic THAT). It’s all very full of symbolism, of course, but with the hindsight? It’s another great important moment stolen away from Katniss. Highjacked. Not unlike a mutt, actually. This book is a mutt XD

Which brings me to what really, really made me angry: the hanging tree song.

That song is so symbolic of MJ and everlark. I mean, there’s one thing I will give MJ the movie and that’s this scene with the song. The people attacking the dam and getting butchered while humming that song? Iconic. But more prosaically, book based, that song is such such a powerful moment. It’s special. And not only because of all the thing with everlark and the tree and midnight.

And suuuuure there might be a lot of symbolism in that song being not strictly about but still intimately related to Snow. Sure. But you know? It’s also another thing that now is about Snow. So even as Katniss was singing that song, getting the Districts to rebel, showing Peeta that District 12 was gone, letting the Mockingjays by the lake take up the chorus… It isn’t just about hope or freedom anymore. Now, it’s about Snow and about how terribly ironic it is this particular song comes to be his demise, how it’s fate or karma or whatever you want to call it. Because now, we can’t unread this book, we can’t unknown what we know.

And I hate that.

Because Katniss’ journey in THG? It’s now so deeply linked to Snow’s story that if you take a step back and think, it’s more all about Snow than it is about her, or her sister or the Districts. Snow lands on top, right?

And you know what really irks me?

The book is actually good as a character study book (not really so much as dystopia because in terms of actual plot, I feel there was really little) but it didn’t have to taint so many elements of THG the way it does.

Let’s say for a moment Snow isn’t Snow. Let’s say he is a wealthy Capitol fallen from grace and that character who is not going to be the President of Panem has the same journey Coryo does. Let’s say at the end of the story, he moves on to become a famous Head Gamemaker or a close advisor to the President?

Well, the themes explored then remained the same, the conclusions remained the same. We lose the visceral signification of his connection to the mockingjays but is that really important? The Hanging Tree now has a resonance for another character in that world, the meadow has probably seen countless lovers reunions and someone killed someone else at the lake, those things happen. The problem is they happen to Coriolanus Snow.

And baring that, let’s say we keep Snow as a main, why did it have to be Twelve? Again, there are eleven other Districts in Panem. He could have come to the very same conclusions in any other place.

Twelve is only relevant in relation to what happens in THG, to Katniss, to Peeta, to Haymitch.

Lucy and the Covey could have ended up stuck in any other Districts. It didn’t have to be Twelve. It didn’t have to spoil the Meadow, or the lake or even the Hanging Tree song.

Is that why Snow hates Twelve so much? Is that why he kills Haymitch’s family even if it’s completely stupid and leaves him without a leash around a Quell’s victor’s neck? Is that why he bombs the Districts into complete oblivion ? Not to punish its victors but because he so intimately hates the place? Because he walked in their very shoes? Because, for a brief time, from his Frankenstein’s experiment, he played in the mud?

For that matter, is that why he has this weird relationship with Katniss? Because she reminds him of Lucy? The similarities are there if you look… Is Katniss a sort of ghost to him? Come back to haunt him after all those decades? Is that why it feels so personal between them?

I will say a quick word about the ship: I was into it at first. Then there was this scene at the zoo after the snake attack on Clemmie and I felt everything started going downhill from there. The ship is rushed. They go from attraction to love in ten seconds FLAT. I know it’s YA and concessions have to be made (although I will argue I read plenty of YA and some ships don’t seem this juvenile), I made them on account of the fact they’re both young and prone to being drama queens.

(I’m making a brief parenthesis because, rereading this, I realized I did say when the book announcement came out and we all very obviously predicted the romance, that as a hayffie fan I hated the thought Snow would have a Capitol/District romance, but on that account, I have to say after reading I don’t even care because it felt so immature and so not actual love, that I don’t feel it really counts? But at the same time, it’s definitely something I have to think upon in terms of hayffie and Snow because would his own experience play in the way he sees them/manipulates/threatens them?)

All in all, though, that ship didn’t convince me. I couldn’t believe it was real. On either part. On Snow’s part because I’m not certain he’s capable of love. He equals love with possession, “his” girl, she “belongs” to him, he liked her better locked in the zoo because he knew where to find her, he constantly questions Lucy’s loyalties… Every time she sings something, he’s like “is it about me? Is it about me? It’s not about me? Who is it about? I hate her. She’s dead to me. Oh but now she’s singing she’s over him. So I love her again”. Being in his head is a journey, let me tell you.

As for Lucy, it’s frustrating. But with Collins, I learned long ago to be frustrated (hey, hayffie fan here XD. You know the two characters you need to build your own hc about if you want to use them with some depths). You can feel there’s this whole backstory about her but we never get to really touch that and so we’re treated to this very strange scene with the ex-lover but we don’t really care because there is no passion, nowhere… In fact, as a character, outside of her singing, her being a show girl, and her little discourse about how man should be free, live and let live yada yada yada, Lucy’s character is very flat in the third part of the book. She’s here only to allow Coryo’s character development.

I would argue that Sejanus actually makes more of an impact on Snow and the general plot than she does in part 3 – or, if you think about it, in the book in general. Lucy is the trigger that gets Coryo’s reflection starting about the hunger games but it’s really Sejanus that challenges it and keeps it going. Sejanus is, in fact, the District character since Snow keeps telling himself the Covey aren’t really Twelve.

I also want to say, on a completely unrelated note, that the constant mansplaying of songs by Snow was unbearable. And that’s not his fault. So, Mrs Collins, I know how to interpret a text thank you. And I’m sure everyone else does to. It broke the pace and the emotion so much for me when he started randomly explaining. The Lucy Gray ballad was the worst. “she’s dead.” NO KIDDING SHERLOCK.

And while we’re in that Lucy Gray thing: very subtle foreshadowing here, btw. Didn’t see it coming at all.

Ah and also something that made me cringe and that I felt was very out of place: the livestock cars and the cages at the zoo. Not to go all social justice warrior but when I read, it immediately hit home and not in the right way. It felt like a prop to stress how inhumane and racist the Capitol was being, they were easy references to loaded terrible horrifying history events and I truly, truly thought it was borderline because, like I said, it was used as a prop.

To conclude.

Is this book great? Yes and No.

I think if you take it independently of THG, it’s a very good book. It’s interesting, the characters are compelling, there is a moral for you to reflect on… It’s not the best dystopian book I’ve read in recent years, it’s not the best young adult book I’ve read in this lockdown (Hi, do yourself a facor, check out the Shadow of the Fox trilogy and then come shout at me in my ask box) but it was still a good read. And I forgot to say but the first half of the novel is actual crack. It was hillarious. Might not have been the intent but come on. It was funny. (and I’m satly they sent him in the arena but they sent him with a can of pepper spray and that will make me laugh forever) I had a good time and, at the end of the day, that’s what you ask of novels.

However, in the general context of the series, loving thg as much as I do, it tainted some of the iconic things, twisted them, insulted some of my most favorites characters, and that really dampened my joy and made me angry. So as a fan… I’m not sure I can say it was great, no.

It certainly didn’t let me indifferent though and that’s already something.

And, I mean, it is so much better than the cursed child I feel I cannot complain too much.

It also does leave the door rather open to a sequel, doesn’t it? I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s another announcement soon.

#tbosas spoilers #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes spoilers #balladspoilers #spoilers #i read stuff #namely abosas #abosas spoilers #book review #I did my best to correct spelling errors and such #but i've spent the whole day reading and my eyes are killing me

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irageneveart · 6 years ago

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there are so many things a 16 years old person should be doing beside throwing hate, BUT HERE YOU ARE BEING A BRAT

@bfmyers I really can't take this anymore, are you really that full of hypocrisy to scream TOXIC left and right while you yourself use your free time to only spread hate? I don’t usually do this and I try to stay away from useless discourse but you're just kicking on my nerves way too much

under the cut cause boy I have a lot to say. (really, it’s long. I needed to point out everything)

I'm going to kindly tell you to fuck off artists' backs.

you have 0 fucking knowledge of what you're talking about yet you're making callouts and worse, people agree! the same people who supported the artists before by reblogging and liking their art are now shitting on them and "ihh no more reblogs from them" only because you write a lengthy shit in which not only that you threaten a human being, you don't even know how to argue. a link to a picture and screaming "toxic" ISN'T A GODDAMN ARGUMENT

people of this community, PLEASE use your fucking brains and don't bow your head to what every nameless kid has to say. you don't have to believe me either, just use your fucking brain and heart and do the decision making yourself

Now, you did a callout post on @dbd-omija pointing out how toxic they are!!! omg gasp animal death? abuse?? HOW IS THAT pOsSIbLe

where have you been until now because this is a horror community:

in the TCM universe inbreeding is mentioned multiple times

in the Halloween movies Michael kills two dogs and eats one of them

omija clearly stated they went with the 1978-2018 timeline BUT NO YOU KEPT SCREAMING BECAUSE HOW DARE THEY SAY SOMETHING AGAINST YOU

on that matter: in the halloween movies Michael's cult makes him rape his niece, in another movie Laurie, before jumping to what it seemed her death, kisses Michael's mask lips. GASP, when will you sue the directors?

after he escaped, Max literally slaughtered every living creature in that farm. put the DBD devs on your "I need to sue them cause I have something to say against this horror game!!!" list

If there’s something I can agree with you on, it’s about tags. Yes, these are triggers, yes tagging is important, but let’s not forget that being in this community IS about being surrounded by triggers. out of courtesy sure, we should tag our stuff accordingly, but to go all out to say “omija, if you’re reading this, i’m going to pee in your mouth.” HOW. IS. THIS. ACCEPTED?! HOW

HOW THE FUCK PEOPLE WHO REBLOGGED THAT CALLOUT THOUGHT YES THIS IS GOOD?!!?!

now you said that Omija's making all of these seem cute and that’s the real problem. this is where you are sooo wrong and let me explain:

a round head doesn't instantly make everything cute. there are many many details that the human eye perceives as cute, things that artists go to when they want their art to be seen as cute. from the color chosen to the way their eyes and mouths are drawn, to the very line work they’re using. yes, shapes count too, but this is not the case and we should get out of our tiny box and see the big picture. Their comics are not meant to be cute, actually much respect to them for being brave enough to approach well known subjects that are not explored. But that’s it. If YOU see it as cute then it’s your problem really. Art and fiction is prone to interpretation

If anything, how much cute stuff we have in the community should be the anomaly, not that someone draws anxious Bubba

omija's Amanda and Bubba art is problematic! someone asks why, you: because is toxic!!!

really? I actually think that, given their individual personalities, omija portraits the ship’s dynamic really well. Amanda is not dealing well with her feelings and with humans and Bubba has problems understanding things in general. they are two deranged people finding a way to cope and to accept another human presence nearby. "Amanda is picking on a disabled person how can you say it's well!!!!" let me remind you that his entire family is picking on his disabilities and the fact that he loves but also FEARS his family is a big theme in Leatherface's story and personality

Also, another argument of yours was about “the power play” and how that’s problematic. I’m...honestly surprised you even thought of this argument because the entire slasher fandom, the movies, everything slasher related IS BASED ON POWER PLAY. Have you read what they wrote for Laurie/Michael to say the ship is based on power play and it’s wrong? No, me neither, cause I don’t care, but you seem to care enough to vomit about it. Go read some things and tell me how problematic the writing is, you need to call out writers too after all

Btw, surprise! I don't ship neither of the mentioned ships, but I can use my brain enough to see what omija does is actually well made and well thought, sick, weird in some instances, but well thought. kudos to you artist. I can also see those who ship Laurie and Michael are still nice people

But just like you and many others I have my own morals (do you now? Exposing yourself like that to NSFW content while so many people are scared for their life because of people like you? hmmmm) and I can’t really stand explicit pedophilia. I’ve read so many books or seen so many movies where it was mentioned, it’s a trigger factor, it’s taboo, therefore is normal to be used in darker works. It all depends on the circumstances and the way it is presented, cause it’s a piece of fiction. Nobody attacked George R. R. Martin for the controversial things he had written in his books right? I wonder why

Because, another surprise, fiction is different than reality and only this argument alone should be enough, but some monkey brains out there will come to scream at me how fiction affects reality. Someone who writes a murder mystery isn’t actually killing people when they put pen to paper. People who play shooter games do not wish to shoot people in real life. Someone who writes about rape will not welcome the rapist in their arms nor do they wish to rape someone. So on, it’s simple, again, we just need to use our brains.

If you have bullying-related or a family related or any thing related trauma and you see a Michael/Laurie fic or Quentin/Freddy or whatever other ships or subjects you have seen around, and decide to click on it, and then you have a negative reaction, that fiction is not harming you. Your unresolved trauma is harming you. Your decision to read something when you know it triggers you is harming you. The past actions of yourself and those who inflicted harm upon you are harming you. All of those things – your trauma, your real-life bullies, your actions – are real, and have the ability to harm you. (the italic bits are from @dracfics who said it better than I ever could put in words. Thank you)

next on your "who am I going to shit on today" is @renlvbon

not gonna lie, for the omija callout I read everything searching to see whenever you are right or not. I don’t personally know either of the artists but I could read enough to see you’re just a self entitled person with something to say regarding everything. for ren's callout I simply skipped after I saw your argument.

you're not doing gods' work by opening people's' eyes that they can or should portray the characters the way they are, disabled and gross. no, you're just picking on someone's art style

Can we stop this toxic nonsense???

don't get me wrong, I agree that we shouldn't make them supermodels and we shouldn't erase what they are, fucking ugly and gross killers, but saying people who don't draw them a certain way are cowards or calling them out or whatever else shit is TOXIC and ANNOYING. We all change them more or less, we have to because none of us are the original creators! We’re just thirsty people making them to be what we want and what we imagine because they’re fucking fiction

I’ve seen people agreeing with you saying the artist should consider real people with disabilities or on the heavier side (“like me” they pointed out). I’m so sorry if this comes out as rude but if you search or need validation in a horror community that’s not a good thing at all! Body positivity and a healthy approach to disabilities should. not. be. searched. in. a. horror. community or any community on tumblr for that matter. You want some positivity on that? In a real case scenario with them we all would die, no matter how you look like

Going back to the artists, some people don't have experience/ are insecure/ are uncomfortable drawing body hair or fat bodies or whatever. That doesn’t make them fatphobic or whatever shit I saw you writing in your tags.

Drawing a black character less than the color YOU think is good? Have you ever tried to color skin? There are so many ways to do it, there are so so many colors you combine and you play around with + lighting and shading that alters everything. and yeah maybe some people pick a different color, a lighter one, or a more yellow one than they should for asiatic people, or whatever. but these tones are NOT easy to get well (you can always put a brown color down and to call it a day, but maybe people won’t want that. They don’t want to be disrespectful, exactly cause there are predators like you that don’t know how to help, only how to fucking scream). Or maybe they simply don’t know how. Every artist has their own range of comfort zone, be it about subject - composition - colors - etc. I don’t do well with neon colors for example, it happens. Hell even the screen you’re using alters the colors

How about giving actual tips, support and explanations instead of rude call outs? And don’t come at me with the “color picker” shit cause color picker from a real life photo is hell and if you don’t know some color theory your art is going to look dull and lifeless regardless

The only time I can agree that whitewashing is wrong is when white-supremacy, nazi and other ugly shits like these are coming into the topic. But it’s not the case here

some young artists don't have the skill to draw certain body shapes, or body hair, or even a non-anime face. some others think putting a scar on the character’s face make them 'uglier' and ‘scarier’ and for them that's enough AND THAT'S ALRIGHT

drawing something that's supposed to be ugly but still having anatomy and proportions and a functionable mouth or eyes placement or whatever ISN'T EASY. ofc, you can go all out if that's what you want, but personally I want things to still be working because at the end of the day every single one of them is human. I'm not drawing dark fantasy in this fandom, I'm drawing slashers

NO ONE IS DRAWING FOR YOU. NO ONE IS USING THEIR SKILL TO MAKE YOU FEEL GOOD. art and writing, especially when is made in the free time of the creator, is made FOR THEMSELVES. If there are people enjoying it? Yay, that’s a win, but no one expects everybody on this planet to like what they’re doing. We’re getting back to that golden rule, DON’T LIKE: MOVE THE FUCK ON/ BLOCK AND LIVE YOUR LIFE. EASY. no one uses these unnecessary callouts for anything, if you have something to say do so kindly, if you can’t, just vent to your friends

So now let’s wrap it up cause IDK how many of you even make it through this point

can we fucking stop making young artists and writers cowards for drawing or writing how they can and however they fucking want? Please and thank you

this shit going on with "the best artist/writer for x y z character" or "conventionally drawing ugly Bubba uwu" will just destroy the confidence of whoever wants to keep drawing or writing or joining the fandom. There’s no competition who draws Bubba the ugliest nor who writes Michael the best. if you can do things a certain way, do it, and let the rest draw and write whatever they can WITHOUT FEARING THEY'RE NOT GOOD ENOUGH.

now I'm waiting for your very "well" argumented reply but I hope you'll understand that what you're doing is TOXIC and you should stop or at least change your way to address things. You’re talking to other human beings, not a void when you can throw any random thought you have in the morning. I don't care about you to be honest, but there are so many people out there following your words mindlessly and the creators are suffering and it's not fair.

don't forget to tell me to go kill myself. have a nice day

#ira talks #bfmyers callout #vent and triggers #this shit needs to stop #long post #my opinion #i won't put this in the main tags cause that's really useless #so I don't really know how to tag lol

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mantis-lizbian · 6 years ago

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so i was just browsing through the Pathfinder Bestiary (basically the same Monster Manual, barring mechanical changes, for those who play D&D) and it something about monster alignment suddenly struck me... no, not the inherent racism of it; that’s certainly not news to me. but... like, this happened while i was looking through the giants, and i realized that there’s an incredibly strong relationship between a giant’s Intelligence and how evil they are. aside from True Neutral stone giants, every giant in the core MM/Bestiary whose intelligence is 10 or lower is Evil. cloud giants, with their Intelligence of 12 are either LG or LE, and only the 16 Int storm giants get to be unambiguously CG.

now, a few giants in later Bestiaries buck this trend slightly, but within the core Monster Manual and Bestiary, there is a strong correlation between low Intelligence and being Evil. any exception to the rule that low Intelligence means Evil alignment is an animal, or something portrayed as having an animal-like mind (and therefore being True Neutral). ogres, trolls, minotaurs - not to mention all the classic racist races - if your Int is less than 8, and you can’t get considered a fancy animal, like the girralon, then the chances that you��re anything other than CE are slim to none. yes, you have got your evil schemers and masterminds - most demons and devils have fairly high Intelligence, and while they’re not in Pathfinder, we can’t forget the mind flayers - but there isn’t really an opposite to that. even beyond the first Bestiary/Monster Manual, there are incredibly few low-Int Good-aligned creatures.

now, ever since Eberron came out, i’ve pretty much - even unconsciously, sometimes - been using its assumptions about alignment. namely that any alignment presented in a monster’s entry is, at best, merely an approximate trend among that species, and more often than not, completely meaningless. Lawful Good medusae and Chaotic Evil angels are canon in Eberron. pretty much the only creatures to buck this trend are the Eberron-original daelkyr. heck, it’s even stated that clerics can be of any alignment, regardless of the deity they worship (if you’re new in 5e, previous editions required that clerics be no more than “one step” away from their deity’s alignment, so a cleric of a LG deity had to be either LG, LN, or NG). but...

even though it’s often problematic. even though i don’t even really give it much regard. even though countless flame wars have been fought over the very concept of alignment, and what it means, and what each alignment means... i don’t know that i want it to be changed. not officially, at least. alignment is one of the most recognizable elements of D&D, and i’ve had a lot of fun in many campaigns because of it. there’s a lot of very interesting philosophy that can be explored through having a defined alignment system. and if you’re not interested in philosophical explorations in your game (and hey, surely we all enjoy the occasional kick-in-the-door style game, even if we do) alignment can be a really useful handwave for your murderhobo fun.

and so long as we’ve got alignment, it’s a useful thing to apply to the various monsters in order to provide the DM a shorthand for how this monster behaves. i mean, with the stat block taking up half a page, artwork taking up a quarter, you don’t really have that much room to provide a detailed description of every monster’s ecological role and societal structures. a kraken is a giant NE squidtopus. werebears are LG. satyrs are CN. it’s not much, but it’s better than nothing. but, of course, we could change the alignments. except...

one of the biggest reasons that 4e didn’t feel like D&D to me was, honestly, going through the Monster Manual and seeing the entry for archons. archons have appeared in every edition of D&D up to 4th, and they’ve always been something along these lines:

they’re celestials, like angels, and the hound archon in particular has been particularly iconic. in 4e, archons became...

basically elementals (elementals, in turn, became primarily combinations of the four-ish elements, rather than “pure” elementals like in every other edition of D&D). now, i’d definitely like to be clear that i did not dislike 4e’s archons (or elementals) by any means. i thought their designs were pretty cool, and they fit in really well with the other changes 4e had made both to the setting and mechanics. but... they weren’t D&D archons.

...archons were probably kind of a bad choice for the point i’’d like to make, though. because where i’m going with this is that... D&D has a legacy. obviously it does, it’s literally the oldest tabletop roleplaying game, how could it not? but... that legacy goes beyond D&D. orcs are CE because they come from the works of Tolkien, and in Middle-Earth, orcs were CE. hill giants are CE because they come from stories like David and Goliath and Jack and Beanstalk where giants are simply a monstrous threat to be overcome, and whose power comes entirely from brawn over brains. ogre magi were an early adaptation of Japanese oni. and i really like that you can look at the creatures in the Monster Manual and you can immediately tell exactly where they came from. this is as close as you can get to a blank canvas without having to just being handed a set of rules for how to build monsters and being told to make them all yourself. and what i love about blank canvases is that you can do whatever you want with them.

the D&D and Pathfinder books aren’t rulebooks, they’re cookbooks. they give you a bunch of recipes and some tips on how to use them, and then tell you to make of it what you will. what i would recommend isn’t changing the monsters, or scrapping alignment in an official capacity, but rather putting a sidebar or something at the front of the book that talks about this. inform the player of the legacy of alignment. give them some ideas for how it can be utilized to enhance your storytelling, not just as a shorthand label slapped onto a character. be upfront about the problematic aspects it has vis-a-vis racism and... i’m not really sure what the word is for the thing i was describing at the beginning of this post (i’d be very grateful if someone could inform me)... and then tell them that, as the DM - and even as the player - they are free to do with it what they will. just because hobgoblins are listed as LE in this book doesn’t mean all hobgoblins have to be. or even that hobgoblins as a whole have to be LE in your campaign setting. nothing’s stopping you from making your hobgoblin society to be a LG one built around noble warriors and honourable combat rather than despotic militarism and perpetual raiding. maybe your angels take inspiration from the Megami Tensei series and are LN dogmatic servants of an uncaring and impartial deity. make the stories you tell with the game your own.

#dnd #pathfinder #dungeons & dragons

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ralfstrashcan · 6 years ago

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Violence in Fiction

When I don't like something in a TV show it's most likely the way violence caused by the protagonists is dealt with. There are different ways in which that can happen and I'm just gonna explain some by examples, namely Sherlock, Teen Wolf and Shadowhunters.

1) Skirting violence (Sherlock)

This is a good method to avoid having to address violence in any way, at least in theory. Until there is one measly scene containing violence and to keep the balance it's not touched on at all and so things get... really weird.

Taking a look at the first two Seasons of Sherlock and ignoring minor brawlings Sherlock and John get themselves into, there is one scene standing out: In the first episode, where John shoots the Cabbie and Sherlock 'questions' him while he's taking his last breaths. The first part is still mostly okay because it is talked about. It is clear that John has killed people in the past and knows how to handle that, Sherlock asks him if he's alright (so it's made clear that shooting someone is something that potentially leaves traces on a person's mental health) and John answers that the Cabbie wasn't a very nice man. And yeah, I get it, he was a serial killer that killed people through sick mind games to fund the college career of his kids and get a personal kick out of it, but the situation in which John shot him wasn't one of imminent danger, at least not because of the Cabbie. He actually shot the Cabbie because Sherlock was about to take the (only potentially) deadly pill because of his own ego and stupidity, not because the Cabbie forced him or posed any kind of threat to him. So wasn't it a little unjust? Even a serial killer deserves a trial, right? Of course it could be argued that John didn't see all that from his tiny little window, and this part of the scene isn't even what I want to focus on. I just thought I'd mention it along the way.

The real uncomfortable part begins after the Cabbie is shot. Sherlock wants answers, preferably fast before the Cabbie goes west, and so he steps onto his shot shoulder to give him a li'l incentive to spill. And this is.. problematic. Because, you know, torture. Deliberately inflicting pain on a dying person. Not cool. And yeeeaaah, Sherlock is really harsh most of the time and unnecessarily insensitive, but this is crossing the line. And it's not addressed at all, which makes kind of sense, because Sherlock obviously has no qualms and John doesn't know it happened (?) and so it just sits there, uncommented. I always feel really awkward watching that scene because it seems so out of place amidst the other relatively violence-free episodes of S1 and S2.

In S3 and S4 the general tone of the series changes and so the violence when it occurs (Mary shooting Sherlock, Sherlock shooting Magnussen, Eurus killing people whenever) doesn't seem so out of place like that one scene in the first Season did.

2) No real or asymmetrical consequences of violence (Teen Wolf)

Two things, real quick:

i) Everyone should be a lot more traumatized than they actually are. The only person(s) to show any kind of reaction to all the gore are Stiles and occasionally Lydia (and the Sheriff, but the Sheriff is mostly exasperated so it doesn't really count).

ii) I feel like the thing that has impacted Stiles the most so far (I still haven't seen 6B, but since Stiles only has a minor role in this (</3!!!!!!!!!) I don’t think it will really change anything) was the thing with Donovan in S5 and I felt like ???????? shouldn't the whole Nogitsune thing have been way way worse for him??????? I mean okay, in S5 he was actually in control, except he wasn't because it was an accident, but yeah yeah yeah, I get it that it's hard to comprehend and knowing something rationally isn't the same as feeling it to be true emotionally. Still. That was one person that died. While attempting to kill him, mind you. In S3 the Nogitsune killed, like, a lot of people and Stiles, being possessed, didn't only have a front row seat, he also felt his elated emotions while killing them. And the whole thing went on for weeks. That's gotta be worse, right?!

I felt like Stiles acting weird and keeping secrets from Scott in S5 was used as a plot device so Theo could sneak his way inside Scott's head while after S3 there was no time to deal with Stiles-Trauma, so in S4 he was mostly back to normal.... except for that one scene with Malia in the basement, the “Control is overrated”-Scene (which I still don't get by the way, so feel free to explain that to me anytime).

3) Inconsistent reactions to violence (Shadowhunters)

This is probably the one that annoys me the most, because it's inconsistent. I freakin' hate inconsistency. Everything else can be forgiven, tropes, clichés, stupid lines, stupidity, even gaping holes in the logic, as long as it's freakin' consistent. It's why I have absolutely zero problems loving Teen Wolf to pieces, because that show has logic that is downright sketchy at times, but that is a constant, so it's alright. (Except for maybe S4, that was really too much bullshit. But it was funny as hell, okay, so I didn't care. I enjoyed myself immensely watching it.) Anyway, back to my point. Shadowhunters and the way violence performed by the protagonists is dealt with.

There are different types of violence shown on-screen:

a) Killing Demons

This one is really unproblematic, because demons are Creatures of Evil whose sole purpose of existence is to kill or injure innocent bystanders. Also they are no highly developed creatures and look like really nasty vermin (or at least most of them do, except for 1x01 where all demons where human-shaped and human-looking but I'm putting that down to pilot-weirdness) so it's like killing a bug. It's also really convenient that 'killing' them doesn't really kill them but instead just sends them back to their home dimension where they dwell until the next rift opens. So, really, it's more like putting them in the jail of monopoly.

b) Killing Downworlders

Eh, I'm sorry, what? Downworlders aren't killed on-screen by protagonists, only by Evil Circle Members! We all know that is Wrong and Bad!

Yeah well, mostly. Except for that one scene in S1 where Alec and Izzy slay Vampires like it's nothing. But let me start elsewhere.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that Shadowhunters may or may not have racist tendencies and look down on Downworlders, yet there is that iffy little thing called The Accords that prevents them from harming them. In theory. It is also widely known that most Shadowhunters in higher ranks don't really give a shit about the Accords and feel like ignoring them whenever the mood strikes is totally okay. For example Aldertree torturing Raphael to get information. It's the same when Meliorn is to be brought into the City of Bones for questioning even though he could very well die in the process of said questioning. But, you know, he is evilly withholding information, so it's alright to break the Accords, because surely the Seelies will be too afraid to start a war with the Shadowhunters in retaliation, should anything happen. We all know how the story goes, Izzy 'goes rogue' and steals Meliorn before he reaches the City of Bones and because the Clave is full of shit they drop the charges for treason against her as soon as they get the Cup in their greedy little fingers. Really, you would think a trial for treason couldn't be ended so easily, but whatever. My point is, Izzy is very pro Downworlders for a Shadowhunter, right? In a society where, even though it's dictated by the Accords, being pro Downworlder is very frowned upon. Lydia even warns her to consider what she's saying when Izzy says, “You know what's insane? Thinking we have the right to treat a Downworlder's life as worthless” in 1x11 during her trial, neatly proving both my claims.

I think it's safe to say that Izzy doesn't have these views since yesterday but has had them for a long time, to withstand against a society that tries to teach her differently.

So why the hell does 1x03 happen?? Simon got kidnapped by the Vampires, so to steal him back Clary, Jace, Alec and Izzy break into the Hotel DuMort and Alec and Izzy are the distraction. Meaning they trigger the alarm and proceed to kill every Vampire that comes their way.

What. The. Hell.

I mean yeah, the Vampires did kidnap Simon, but collective punishment much? Who says the other Clan Members even knew what Camille was up to?? In fact we see Raphael and Camille disagree over this whole kidnapping, suggesting that this was Camille's idea alone and the rest of the Vampire Clan had no say in it at all. Of course the Shadowhunters don't know that, but that possibility should have crossed their minds, that's not too much to ask, right? Also, again, don't they deserve, like, a trial? And even if they don't, isn't killing tons of Vampires for one measly abduction where the hostage isn't even lastingly harmed a little excessive?

And yes, the Vampires did attack Alec and Izzy, but they were freakin' breaking into their home and flapping their seraph blades around. Did they expect to be asked to leave politely? What the hell?!

To be honest, from Alec I didn't reaaally expect more, because of the weird racism issue he has (in early episodes he says some super racist things about Downworlders and later it's never mentioned again and not really reflected in his behavior which I find super weird and annoying but that's a topic for another day) but Izzy, who stands out with her Downworlder-friendly attitude??? What was going on with her???

Of course one could argue here that they are just so hardened through all the demon-slaying, but honestly I don't believe that because demons are (mostly) mindless creatures whereas Vampires were real people at some point and still are in spirit if not in biology. Seriously.

c) Killing other Shadowhunters (namely Circle Members)

And on with the killing of real people. Apparently Circle Members (CM from now on because I'm lazy) don't need a trial, fine. Apparently all the protagonists have absolutely no problem slaying fellow Shadowhunters, even though I believe that before S1 the Circle was officially dead and no more CM were running around and so the protagonists didn't have practice killing people. Izzy says in 1x04, “Before Clary got here, every day was the same. Go on a mission, kill demons. Go on a mission, kill demons.” Demons, not rogue CM. But of course that could have been for the easy parallelism, you know, to keep the sentences short. But I don't think that.

Anyway, even if we leave all this aside... shouldn't all that people killing leave, like, a slight uncomfortable feeling in anyone's gut? Because it really doesn't.

Again, one could argue that they are just hardened and used to all the violence and while I think that is a flawed argument (because I don't believe that killing is something you can get used to if you don't have a grave mental health issue) I will concede the point. For the Lightwoods.

What about Clary? She's been part of the Shadow World for like two weeks and she's joining in on the killing as if it's nothing. She goes from “Oh my god you killed her!!!!!111” in 1x01 to happily stabbing people in two seconds flat. What the hell, Clary.

That she might take to killing demons, okay, because blah blah primitive creatures blah blah. But everything else is just un-freakin-believable, if you ask me.

Of course I understand why this happens in all these shows. It's necessary. It's for the same reason that you don't show every meal the characters eat or every time they go to the toilet; it's obvious they do it at some point but nobody cares about that. If you focus all your screen-time on the mental health issues of the characters you never get to the fun parts like explosions and fights and stuff. I get that.

Still. Can't it be avoided?

Welllllll.

I have to admit, I have seen one TV show that really took the time to portray consequences of violence realistically, and that was Hannibal. In the first episode Will, who is labile on a good day, shoots someone in an entirely justifiable act of self-defense where he had absolutely no other choice than shooting that person or risk the life of an innocent bystander. And then he is traumatized for a while and the frequent visits to the psychiatrist of his misplaced trust don't really improve his situation, but my point is, he struggled with what he has done even though there were good reasons why he did it, there were long term consequences, and he is haunted even Seasons later by this, by his first time killing another person.

Now that is some nice handling of the consequences of violence.

Of course taking all that time on-screen to process his thoughts and feelings serves the plot, so there's that.

I guess what I'm saying is, I understand why it's done, this neglect of dealing with the fallout of violence, but on the other hand it still annoys me. Don't get me wrong, I love all the shows I mentioned and have re-watched them more than once and surely will again, but.

A grain of discontent stays.

#meta #bbc sherlock #teen wolf #shadowhunters #hannibal #sherlock holmes #john watson #stiles stilinski #alec lightwood #isabelle lightwood #clary fray #will graham #hannibal lecter #violence

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