#FUCK CAPITALISM LIKE CAN WE PLEASE CARE ABOUT THE PLANET AND OTHER HUMANS

[lixbf]

very depressing to think about how this is probably the coldest summer of the rest of my life

[lux-s-mind-com]

Dramatic Diary Entry #? TW: mentions of genocide, capitalism, sexism and climate change

Instagram or any other social media aren't platforms that really 'connect'. Going out to shop to pass time is just falling prey to consumerism. This trend of only talking to people created a lack of activity, which stems from the lack of third spaces, and the trend of 'money is time', which leads to not helping people you care for, stems from hyper-individualism.

People are dying everywhere. Whole species are dying everywhere. We are all homo sacer. Celebrity talk is taken more seriously than a genocide. And still, everyone is silent. I was silent a year ago. I was silent for 11 years, if you take away the first three years of my life, while children in Gaza, about three years old, talk about their trauma in an ongoing war, fighting for the rights of all children, that have too witnessed this disgrace to humanity. Yet, it isn't just Gaza. Congo, Yemen and many more. They're all bleeding.

80% (around this number, don't come at me if it's more) of autistic women fall under the radar. There is a sexist disorder that still exist to this day.

Climate change is still thriving and who knows about what happened to this whole corona pandemic. And no one, literally no soul, talks about all of this in my social circle. Nobody cares. The first few points may be the favourite conversational topics of older generations, but that's all they are. The underlying history of depression in this young generation is never touched in those conversations. Like all this hyper-individualistic and consumeristic stuff doesn't happen and it's all because of our phones. Like the world isn't full of issues and it's all just in my head. I feel like I've lost my mind. How can everyone be so calm? Just how deep is this narrative of white supremacy that causes hyper-individualism, consumerism, ableism and racism rooted in this land? Do the people not see what is happening at all? Do they stick their fingers into their ears and scream, like those motivational coaches do? Or do they prefer to buy every trend and scroll through social media endlessly so they can feel something again? Who is crazy, though? Me, freaking out while thinking of all the suffering and dying or them, completely desensitised to it, using some excuse like 'humans will kill their own eventually' or 'the planet has already gone through many mass extinctions'? Please, tell me, because I don't know anymore. All this bullshit they call politics is essentially just a bunch of desensitised people voting for fucking AFD like we don't already have enough problems.

note: haven't posted for a while and I got my diary entries mixed up so 7 others plus this will be #?

[xbreezymeadowsx]

I’m feeling some type of way so have an emotional post.

The amount of time I spend with my phone in hand and on Tumblr lately is about as unhealthy as it gets I’d imagine.

But I’m a needy bitch and crave human interaction as much as I wish to avoid it.

And I’m learning to love myself and be more openly me. (Not just whore me.) To accept compliments and praise without arguing it’s wrong. To believe someone when they tell me I’m not a burden and that I can talk to them. To know I may have some mental health stuff I deal with every day but that it doesn’t negate my emotions and how I’m feeling matters. Not to bottle it up and shut up. But to allow people that care to help.

(My Flanaclan girls were brought into my life through this platform. Please don’t mistake this post as me invalidating the group or anything any of you have ever done for me. But, in ‘clan, I’m MOM. While I would never, ever want to be anything else for you and I know you’re all there for me just as much as I for you, I can’t go to you the way I can with these others. Moms aren’t supposed to lean heavily on their children to carry them. WE carry YOU. And I wouldn’t change that for anything. I love all my girls. And your time with me is to be spent being just that.)

I still have so much to learn and more growing to do. That doesn’t stop at any certain age. And I look forward to the new discoveries and lessons I have yet to know.

It hasn’t been that long together, but it’s already been one hell of an experience at this freakshow.

To Eddie: Thank you for allowing me to run amok. Thank you for accepting me into this world. And for bringing out my inner filthy whore/slut. 🫣😂 Thank you for being you.

To the Freaks: thank you for allowing me to have the fun I’ve had so far and for the fun yet to come. You are all beautiful and amazing sluts. And do not hesitate to tell me to fuck off if I get to be too much. 😅

Thank all of you for putting up with me and my special brand of crazy. For playing along as I put on many hats and claim these roles I’ve taken on. And for enjoying and embracing my silly good girls/boys certified star system. I'd like to think it makes @eddiemuns0n86 's page a special one.

My current collection of hats:

And to D: Thank you for letting me be your own personal chaos incarnate. Thank you for quickly becoming an amazing friend. Thank you for somehow being able to force me into talking through my bullshit and for listening with genuine care (be it as the role of Eddie or as Honey D 😉). You are possibly the sweetest man on the planet. And I hope we stay friends for as long as you'll put up with me. (You're my favorite Eddie 🤫, don’t tell the others) I love you, dork (with a capital P platonic).

[magic-missle-blog]

Ghost division

approx 5k words

The teacher stood in front of her class, looking over the rows of teenagers. The red sun shone through the glass illuminating the brightly coloured room and the wooden desks. The youngsters were mostly green skinned mammalian Drek, like herself, although she did have two reptilian Gath, shorter and stockier than the Drek, they sat on specially made chairs to accommodate there long tails, Their parents had recently moved to this colony, the new mines and the wealth therein drew sentients from all over the galaxy. Most were dressed in a similar fashion, dark blue trousers and skin tight teeshirts with a Varity of symbols of cartoon characters. She inwardly shuddered at the fashion sense of the young,

:readmore:

Off to the side was a older Drek, he was an elder, over 70 years old and even though his once blue hair was now all grey, and his back had a slight stoop, he stood proud and his eyes were bright. He had on a dark green military uniform, a couple of shades darker than his skin. The rank badge on his chest showed he was a captain, the dagger with wings on his sleeve showed he was in the war fleet.

“Class” the teacher began “We have a special guest with us today. As you know tomorrow is 'Alliance day', the most important holiday we have, and it’s a very special one. Tomorrow marks fifty years since the alliance between Drek and Gath, fifty years since the foundation of the united galactic council, fifty years since the Canidations were defeated and peace was restored to the galaxy.”

She took a breath. “Please give a warm welcome to captain Furon.”

The teacher clapped her 6 fingered hands together and sat down behind desk.

Captain Furon walked smartly to stand in front of the class. He precisely placed a bottle of water down next to some paperwork on the crowded wooden desk. All eyes were on his uniform and side arm.

He looked at the teacher. “Thank you for the most gracious introduction.” He said with a smile.

“I want to tell you about the battle for this colony; it was the turning point in the great war, but ...before I begin, who can tell me how the alliance started?”

A forest of hands rose in the air. Furon pointed to one of the Gath students. The student stood up and said in a hissing voice. “Sixty or so years ago a race called the Canidations tried to conquer the galaxy, they invaded and destroyed many worlds. The Canidations attacked both the Gath and Drek our empires bordered one another. We stood together, and fought off attack after attack, eventually driving the Canidations back into their space. After the war ended, our peoples joined in the alliance and started the galactic council, over the years we invited four other species into The Alliance.”

The reptilian sat back down.

As the student spoke Furon nodded along. Once the Gath had returned to his seat, the captain said “That’s the official bare bones history, but it’s not the full truth.”

Captain Furon looked around the class. “It started with the Canidations, that right enough, but what you don’t realise is just how powerful they were. They had more ships, more weapons than any other species, several times over. In their home system there was a gas giant with many moons, these moons were the size of small planets and the Canidations built factories. Giant factories that could mass produce warships in great numbers. Their fleet had tens of thousands of fighters, thousands of cruisers and hundreds of capital ships. The Canidations were a strong warrior race, with a high birth rate. The soon outstripped the resources on their home worlds and wanted more.” his voice turns cold “They were a plague. They couldn’t be reasoned with or bargained with, they believed they were the only true form of intelligent life, everything else was simply an animal to be destroyed.”

He looks lost in memories for a moment, the room is silent, hanging on his every word, For the first time the students actually grasped that standing before them was a warrior, a man who had lived through the horror of the great war .A man who had stood toe to toe with the Arachnidiod Canidations, who had spat in there ruby coloured multifaceted eyes.

Furon continued “In ten years the Canidations invaded and slaughtered five species and with every conquest their blood-lust grew and grew, they gave no quarter, gave no mercy. The wounded, civilians, even children were all fair targets to them.

The seemed unstoppable, we knew it was coming of course. The Drek and Gath were next in line, as the Canidations territory expanded it was a matter of time until they were at our door. We tried to build up our fleets, improve our weapons and fortify out colonies but it was futile.”

He reached for the bottle of water on the teacher desk and took along slow sip, then continued.

“Around 7 years after the war started the Canidations attacked a Gath border post, a few months later they attacked one of our convoys. Normally only a fool starts a war on two fronts, but the Canidations were so powerful and so arrogant they didn’t care. Then they made a mistake. They opened up another front. They attacked The Terrain Empire.”

The class murmured and looked around. This was new information. The Terrans don’t have an empire, they are generally vagabonds or mercs, and they are rare. The population only a few hundred thousand individuals across know space, in fact, no one in the class had ever seen one.

Furon continued “The Terrans, or Humans and they were sometimes known, were a relatively young race. They only had interstellar travel for a few decades, but they quickly built up a small empire. As a young race no one really considered them a threat, including the Canidations, but they were wrong. You see humans had one great strength, adaptability. The Canidations became warriors, but Humans were born for war. In the 5000 years of recorded human history there was not one single day when some part of the planet was not at war. They could see as well as we could what was coming so they built up their fleets and dusted off ancient tactics renewed and improved for a new age. When the Canidations first attacked the Terran Empire, they terrans would lose three ships for every one Canidation vessel killed, but with every battle, every loss the humans learned. They studied the enemy, they adapted. After six months it was one to one, and after a further six it took five Canidation warships to kill a Terran vessel. The humans tech advanced at an unmatched pace. They created new and unique weapons and defences, but it was not enough. Even with losses of 5 to one the Canidations were so many that those loses was a victory, however it slowed the advance into Terran space, and forced then to pull resources from Gath and Drek space to fight the Terrans, giving us much needed breathing room. The advance slowed, but it did not stop,”

Furon took a breath

“I want to tell you about a battle, a very important battle that took place here, in orbit of this colony towards the end of the war. This was the most important battle in the history of the Drek, because it paved the way for the alliance.”

“Back then this colony had around ten million people, and it was an important supply and repair centre for the fleet. At first it was far inside Drek space but as the Canidations pushed onwards this world soon became a target. We tried to evacuate the civilian population but we didn’t have the ships or resources, our fleets were spread so thin as Canidation attacks hit all over the empire. Around seven million people were left when the Canidation death fleet arrived. I was a young officer stationed in the bridge of the Warship 'Firestorm', part of small defence force, all that high command could spare. Our orders were to defend the colony at all costs.”

************************************************

Ensign Furon looked up from his screen. The green and black display flashed in warning. “Captain....sensors have just picked up a large Canidation fleet heading this way. We have 30 minutes until they reach the system.”

The captain looked around his small bridge. The red emergency lights shrouded his crew in an eerie glow, various consoles beeped for attention, chair creaked as people shifted. His crew were at battle stations, ready to fight and die if needed. The Firestorm was destroyer class Warship, Small and fast yet it packed a punch. He was proud of his ship and knew it inside and out. “How large?”

Furon checked his screen, “six capital ships, thirty cruisers, five carriers....we're outnumbered six to one.”

The captain checked the status of the other ships in his fleet. A ragged assortment of cruisers and destroyers most damaged to some extent from the constant warfare, they were only here as this was the closest repair station to the front. There were various other civilian ships in orbit and a large ring of defensive satellites. The civilians he could discount as they were unarmed, but the satellites might be able to help...and then there was the repair station itself, upgraded with the latest weapons..... Captain Brekka shook his head, in his heart of hearts he knew it wasn’t enough, the firepower the Canidation fleet had would cut through the colonies defences like a hot knife through butter.

“Comms open a general distress call”

“Channel opens Captain”

The captain

“This is captain Brekka of the Drek warship Firestorm. We have incoming hostile craft; we are in orbit of Baldur colony. If anyone can help. Please come. We have transport full of children, please assist.”

The Comms office waited a few moments, “nothing captain, no reply”

The first officer, a tall Drek with long lanky limbs replied “all ships are battle ready and moving into formation, plasma cannons are charging. The colony rail guns are active and defensive satellites fully powered. We'll squash those fucking bugs like a spider under our boots'”

The captain smiled a rare smile. He appreciated Firsts attempt to raid the crew’s spirits but everyone knew they didn’t stand a chance.

“Furon. Status of the evacuation ships”

Furon checked his screen. “Three are fully loaded and taking off, the remaining ten will be airborne within twenty minutes. There have been delays, people are crowding on. Its chaos down there.” The main view screen showed various scenes of the plant below. Parents trying to push their children onto the waiting transports, civilian craft fleeing. People fighting each other and trying to flee.

“Cutting it close...” the captain said. He pressed a button on his command console, opening a channel to his fleet. “Prepare to break orbit, defend the transports at all costs.”

The bridge crew looked at the captain. The first office spoke up. “But captain...the planet....there are seven million people...”

The captain, his face drawn, heart heavy, looked at the sensor display. He knew what was going to happen. Those capital ships would smash the space dock as the cruisers destroyed the satellites and ground cannons. Once the defences were down they would bombard the colony with fusion bombs. A few might survive in outlying settlements, or if they managed to get to the bunkers....but by this time tomorrow most would be dead. “There’s nothing we can do for them, but if we defend the transports at least the children will survive.”

Minutes seemed like hours. Furon checked and rechecked the status of the Canidation fleet as they drew closer. The tension was unbearable. A trickle of sweat crawled like a spider down his spine.

CLICK CLACK.

CLICK CLACK

Someone was clicking a pen.

CLICK CLACK

CLICK CLACK

CLICK ...

The first office strode across the bridge and plucked the pen from the officer at fire control. With a grunt the pen was crushed in the firsts strong hand.

Blue eyes glued to the screen, Furon was the first to see the Canidations dropped out of hyperspace just shy of the planets gravity well and began their approach at sub light.

Heavy cruisers bristling with weapons, smaller but faster destroyers, behind that the capital ships. Monsters made of titanium and horror, each one ten times the size of his own vessel. Last but certainly not least the carriers with their cargo of small deadly fighters.

“Five minutes until weapons range” Furon said. The captain sat in his chair, still as a rock watching the sensor display on the main screen. The transports had all reached orbit and were slowly moving out of the gravity well where they could safely activate hyper drive, but they were slow, far too slow.

“Captain” Furon said with alarm “Enemy fleet is breaking formation.”

On the screen the carriers offloaded their cargo of small sleek fighters. Fast and deadly shaped like locusts, they were moving around the Drek fleet to try to flank the transports, as the main body of cruisers attacked head on. The capital ships headed straight for the colony, where their large guns and mass drivers would rain death on the helpless people below.

The captain knew the colony was doomed; all he could do was try to save the transports. Save as many people as he could. He knew his duty, but hated himself for abandoning the colony.

The captain pressed a button on his command console “Sword, Wildcat, intercept those fighters, the rest of you, battle formation, buy those transports as much time as you can....it’s been an honour serving with you.” He cut the channel, nothing else needed to be said. He looked around the bridge crew, emotion plain on the green faces, anger, hatred, but no fear. They faced death but they wouldn’t go down easy and with luck their sacrifice would save thousands of Drek on those transports. The captain couldn’t have been prouder.

“Two minutes until weapons range” Furon said

The incoming ships slowly grew in size as they drew closer.

“Weapon range in 90 seconds, the first transport is 3 minutes from the minimum safe FTL jump point, the last transport is 10 minutes away. Fighters will intercept transports in 3 minutes” Furon said.

So, Captain Drek thought, it’s not all in vein, a few transports will be safe and we’ll buy the rest as much time as we can.

“Weapons range in one minute....wait...captain....I’m picking up something on Comms, its an audio . it sounds like a...a howl?” when the captain nodded furon opened the channel. An eerie moan, filled the bridge. Words, almost two low to catch were mixed in the scary sound, “we are the ghost division, we are your death...”

Furon had turned a sickly pale blue colour. He cut of the channel, and turned to the captain, he was about to speak when his station beeped. “Captain, its a distress call its...it’s from the Canidation capital ships... they want aid....the call has cut off”. Furon said confused.

The screen zoomed into capital ships closing in on the planet, but where the there should have been six monstrous death machine, only four could be seen. Two expanding clouds of debris still glowing, were the remains of the others. As they watched a bright red explosion blossomed from the main hull of another ship, it quickly consumed the huge vessel. As it died a bright yellow explosion from the rear of the ship, the fusion plant loosing containment no doubt, finished it off.

On the main screen an explosion destroyed an enemy destroyer, and then another destroyed a cruiser. Within a few second ten Canidation ships were no more than glowing space dust.

The line of incoming ships dissolved into chaos. They fired weapons all around. The Drek couldn’t see anything though, the Canidations seemed to have gone mad, firing at empty space.

The first office looked up “the cruisers and fighters are breaking off they’re heading to the capital ships...what the fuck is happening?”

The bridge was a jumble of activity. Sensor reports were coming in, the Comms system was going crazy as the other ships in the fleet reported the same thing, asking for orders.

Furon shouted over the noise on the bridge “something is attacking them, I’m reading...fuck I don’t know what I’m reading. I’ve never seen anything like this. Weird gravity spikes, then ships appearing then vanishing. If I didn’t know better I’d say the sensors were damaged.”

The screen showed the Canidation fleet in full retreat. Black ships around the size of destroyers appeared out of no where, fired a barrage of projectile and energy weapons then vanished again. It didn’t matter where the Canidations turned or how the dodged, a ship always appeared, fired and vanished. It made it impossible to target them, or get an accurate count of numbers. When the new sleek warhips were sure of a direct hit they would fire a large torpedo, the weapon didn’t seem to have any guidance, but it packed a punch. Any cruiser it hit was killed, and even the monstrous capital ships were destroyed. With one missile. Brekka had no idea what the warhead was, but it was immensely powerful. It seemed to vapourise anything it hit rather than exploding like a normal missiles

The Comms office piped up “incoming hail”

“On screen” Brekka said

The screen changed from the confusion of battle to a video call.

A tall dark skinned human in a dark grey uniform appeared on screen.

“I’m captain Conroy of the Terran warship Lucifer; we received your distress call. Your transports will be safe now, want to help us mop up the rest of these bastards?” he asked with a grin.

Brekka let out a Drek war cry and said to the crew.

“You heard the good captain. Give them Hell”

****************************************

“The battle lasted less than 30 minutes. We didn’t lose a single ship, neither did the humans. Only one Canidation ship survived, and that was because the humans let it go. ‘Teach them to fear the wrath of Earth’ Captain Conroy told us. We offered the humans shore leave but they declined, they had a mission. To spread fear among the Canidations, to hit hard without mercy and vanish like ghosts. That battle was a major victory, it inspired our people, and it showed that non Drek could help, would be willing to help so in turn we could help others. Due to the humans example the Firestorm was the first Drek ship on the scene when a small flotilla of Canidations attacked a Gath supply line, we helped save a half dozen Gath ships. The Gath returned the favour and soon we were fighting side by side. It was from these small actions the alliance was born. If it wasn’t for the Terran ghost division, the alliance would never have happened.”

Hands rose as Furon finished history. “What happened to the humans? How could they make their ships invisible, what kind of weapons did they use?” a jumble of voices asked various questions.

Furon smiled and raised his hands for silence.

“We don’t know what stealth tech the human ships used, we think they could manipulate artificial gravity in some way to bend light and sensor beams around the ships but we can’t replicate it yet. As for the weapons, well they used tungsten projectiles fired from rail guns and plasma based energy weapons for the most part...but those torpedoes... they were something else. We managed to recover a few that missed their targets. From what we gather they used some kind of exotic matter with negative mass to generate an antigravity wave, That wave was unstoppable, and any matter caught in it was destroyed and changed into energy. This caused a chain reaction, if effectively turned the ships own armour into an energy blast. “

Furon took another drink.

“As for what happened to them....they spread fear among the Canidations. For months Ghost division stuck Canidation ships. Burned colonies, wherever that eerie sound would play Canidations died by the hundreds and thousands. They spreads So much fear that the Canidations halted their advance into Gath and Drek space and committed almost everything to the destruction of Earth. The humans fought hard and made the Canidation bleed for every inch but eventually the humans were pushed back into their home system. tens of Thousands of Canidation ships dropped out of FTL into the Sol system, almost the entire Canidation fleet, almost every and solider so they could watch humanity die.

The terrans had pulled everything back into Earth orbit, every ship, and every colonist. Everything other than ghost division

It must have been an amazing sight, the two biggest fleets the galaxy has ever seen...ready to fight to the death.”

Furon looked around the class

“But the humans...they were vindictive bastards, and clever. From what we gather they built one last torpedo. It must have been huge, at least a mile long, and filled with millions of tonnes of exotic matter. They fired it directly into their own sun causing it to go supernova. The Gravity wave of the dying star made FTL impossible. The entire Canidation fleet was wiped out in one go, millions of Canidations, dead In a heartbeat, I sometimes wonder what when through their mind before they were blasted into ash. Then the alliance struck. Our ships, the combined might of the Gath and Drek empires attacked. We hunted down and wiped out every last Canidation ship, but when we arrived in the home system, we found it had already been killed. The ghost division had been there first...no Canidations survived the human’s wrath. The home world had been cracked open like an egg. Every planet and moon that had even a hint of canidation presence was sterilized.”

The Gath that had spoken earlier said with awe “the humans destroyed their own home world rather than let it fall...they must have been mighty warriors.”

Furon smiled

“Oh they were re than mighty warriors. They were inventors, thinker ands dreamers. After the supernova had passed and it was safe, mercy vessels from the alliance went into the remains of the sol system... we knew it was hopeless but we owed it to the terrans to look for survivors. We found the smashed remains of the two inner planets, and the irradiated husk of the fourth planet. We found a diamond thousands of miles wide, all that remained of the planet after the atmosphere had been blown away. But of earth there was nothing, no debris, no wreckage, nothing.”

“ Just before the supernova wave reached earth, our long range scopes picked up something odd, a massive energy spike. We think the humans somehow created an artificial wormhole, they used the power from the supernova to rip open time and space. They shifted their entire planet, their moon and the whole fleet and left the Canidations to die. They used their own planet as bait and their star as the biggest bomb the galaxy has ever seen. You might say its impossible, but Humans could dream the impossible and make it possible...I don’t know if it s true or not, but they might still out there somewhere and could come back one day., and if they do i hope to all the gods that they come in peace.

[whaleofatjme1920]

HEY B GIMMIE THAT SWEET SWEET RIVAL MATCHUP U ALREADY KNO

You already know who this is but ill still give u a hot rundown: My names Ally, im 20 years old 5’7’’ and a Leo/year of the dragon/INFP. She/They pronouns and im Pansexual but i dont think that matters much in this situation >:P. Appearance wise i have shoulder length curly red hair and green/grey eyes, suuuuper pale skin and freckles. Im def an ambivert, very protective of people who mean alot to me and kind of sharp tempered, especially when people start talking about shit they dont know anything about. Im also a pretty big perfectionist and people pleaser and will beat the FUCK outta myself if i feel like i let people down or made people upset when i could have helped it. But thats all about me, heres those wacky questions!

- Stated before, but im an August Leo! I would say my aura would probably be a pinkish/ purple color? For dislikes i def dont like bitter foods, being too hot, rumors, people talking behind my back, ppl who act like they know what theyre talking about, ppl cutting me off when i lose my train of thought, conservatives, not caring about climate change/the planet in general, tight or restrictive clothes, not having enough time in the day, capitalism, ect. Honestly the most off the wall thing for me that would make me throw hands on sight would probably be someone saying some shit about my close friends behind their back to me.

- Once when I was 14 me and about 10 other people squeezed into a mini van at about 3am and drove around the town, not a single one of us had a license or were over the age of 16, and we were all ridiculously drunk and high the entire time (except the driver. we were underage, not stupid). After driving halfway across the island we got pulled over by cop on the interstate, and he walked up to the car, looked at the driver, then into the passenger seat and saw literally 10 KIDS OBVIOUSLY DRINKING and the car absolutely reeked of bud, then looked back at the driver and simply told him “Your tail light is out. Get home safe” and drove away. Ive never seen god faster than that moment LMAO

- I could never willingly fight a raccoon, youre sick for suggesting that >:/ They are precious boys and ive saved too many from drowning in my pool for me to lay a finger on one. And as for dealbreakers? My biggest one in a relationship is cheating, but thats pretty basic LMAO. I would also say one that’s definitely second in rank would be expecting someone to stay the same through out the relationship and getting upset when the person changes. We are human beings and developing and growing, if you dont support me in that nothing is going to work. I explained a bunch of things i dislike in people above, but ill also add in here people who hurt animals in any way/ litter for no reason. If one of my friends throws a piece of trash out of my car im slammin on the brakes and youre getting out and picking it up. And god forBID you touch an animal around me il doing whatever you did to it to yourself no hesitation.

- I would hate being stuck in a room with anyone, i have decently bad claustrophobia and if we were in there for more than a day i would start bugging out LOL But probably the worst type of person would be someone who just doesn’t shut up and trys to act like they know everything. Those are like, the most insufferable people to me. ESPECIALLY if theyre wrong and refuse to admit it. Whenever i think of being locked in a room, somehow i always imagine like a dark navy blue room with one small window and completely empty floors and walls, everything made out of carpet. Dont ask me why, i have absolutely no clue.

my feed back is ily bitch gimmie a good one i wanna fight a bitch

Your enemy is… Eyeless Jack!

In general:

I told you this yesterday but I wasn’t expecting you to send this in and must've spent like 5 straight minutes wheezing reading this. My gut reaction was Jeff, but based on what you wrote about the room, I’m going to say your enemy is actually Eyeless Jack!

Things he doesn’t like about you and how he pisses you off:

EJ doesn’t like that you’re a Leo. I’m not elaborating on that. He’s such a cold, clinical, heartless bastard that everything you are just goes against whatever tf he actually believes and acts as. I feel like you being a perfectionist would just brush against his perfectionist tendencies and habits. He’d say everything you’re doing is wrong. Just a dick. EJ may or may not exploit your weaknesses but that’s just because he thinks it’s fun and doesn’t like you.

EJ is a god of knowing what he’s talking about and it leads to this cocky, know it all attitude. It’s gonna brush you the wrong way. He knows that and takes joy in it. He will always attempt to one up you in knowledge and grin when he sees you falter. On the other end, if you catch him off guard he’s gonna be SO MAD. He will purposely turn up the heat in your presence just to make you upset. He will breathe down your neck and get in your personal space just to make you more uncomfortable. EJ isn’t anywhere NEAR a conservative or a climate change denier but he will take those positions just to make you mad and laugh over your attempts at arguing with him. Like Jeff, he’s a huge devil’s advocate and will start shit just because he can. I don’t actually think he’d talk about your friends negatively in front of you though, but he would definitely say stuff about you to your face.

EJ thinks it’s stupid you drank underage and will poke that memory. He will use insults about alcohol and the brain despite drinking a ton himself. If you call him out on it, he will fold. Literally throw everything he says about you back at him and he will get puffy and fast. EJ can’t always handle change that well so like, he’s a stubborn guy. Despite how logical he can be and how smart he is, socially he is so uncouth!! EJ doesn’t litter so you don’t have to worry about that but he’s definitely gonna do things that push your buttons, mostly say things that put you off. He’s not claustrophobic. He will put you in situations like that just because he can. The dark navy blue of his mask is going to haunt you. EJ will act like a god in your presence and snarl when you dare question his abilities. CALL HIM OUT. HUMBLE HIM PLEASE.

He agrees on the raccoon thing ngl. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, but EJ has such a soft spot for animals - mostly birds - but he can’t fault you for the raccoon thing. He's also not too fond of litter so he has to agree with you on that one too.

Closing Thoughts/Other Things:

Knowing you for as long as I have, I was so, so ready to actually put you with Jeff. However, the more I read into this the more my intuition screeched that you would actually throw hands with EJ and I find that HILARIOUS. Just the arguments between you and this tall, muscular demon man is just - “what? What? WHAT” It’s beautiful. I’m serious, Merida vs. a literal demon. That’s all. Ily. <3

[crimsonthehobo]

Battle Scars - (1/?)

[A/N:] Haven’t been on this account in months, am quite sleep-deprived and I haven’t eaten breakfast yet. Well, lunch now apparently. So before I lose the minimal courage I got, I’ll just drop this off here and hope it works! Don’t know when I might write the next part, might even not. Who knows. Mind’s wonky. This has been in my files for a long while, wrote it back when Guy Sebastian’s song Battle Scars got stuck in my head. Figured I might as well let it stop collecting dust. Also, considering I’ve never done this before, I don’t know how to properly tag. 

If there’s tags I should put, ESPECIALLY if they’re tw tags, please do tell me. [Summary:] The child of a general, the only survivor of a (frankly) unethical experiment, and the old college roommate of one Alexandra Danvers. Somehow all three of those things correlate with one another, not that you can remember at this point. You just want to live in the forest, forgetting the reasons for the scars that litter your body. [Warning(s):] Reader’s thoughts get... dark. Somewhat. More depressing, I think. Some people horrifically mutate too, so there’s that. Again, if there should be warnings in the tags or here that I should put but didn’t, do tell me. What else... uh, this is approximately 11k words long? Maybe that deserves a warning all to itself. Is there a tag that explains “possibly turns you into a modern-day cave person living in forests to steal from humans and wrestle bears”? Possibly a spoiler, but hey, at least it means you read warnings, so congrats!

The first time you felt like you’d failed, was when you had to leave the first love of your life. It was the only scar that had no physical counterpart, but you’d felt the mind-numbing pain, nonetheless.

“You watch yourself, alright? I won’t be around to keep your head screwed on for you!”

“Yeah, yeah…”

You rolled your eyes, pointedly keeping your focus on shoving the remaining belongings you had into your duffle. You didn’t look at her. You couldn’t. You knew if you did, you’d break.

Silence fell over the room at your half-hearted response, the lack of noise almost making you regret not saying anything more in reply. And then…

“Do… Do you really have to go?”

‘Damn it.’

Alex’s words were shaky, barely louder than a whisper. The strained tinge in her voice urged you to look up from zipping up your bag, glancing over at the source.

Seated on your bed with her legs over the side, she sat hunched over as one of her legs anxiously shook up and down against the edge. Her hands were curled into fists between her knees, knuckles white as her forearms tensed from their placement on her thighs.

She looked so… small. Nervous. It wasn’t like her.

She was supposed to be Alex Danvers. A stubborn redhead that was tough-as-nails and was always up for drinking you under the table any day!

But you couldn’t blame her for not being herself. She was heartbroken, and so were you.

Though, it made you feel guilty that it was because of you that she looked so weak.

No, “weak” wasn’t the word.

Vulnerable…

Vulnerable seemed more fitting.

“I’m sorry.”

You looked away, but it didn’t last for long. You felt her tap your jaw; once, twice, then a third time. For you two, it was a universal sign that you needed to listen. That what would be said was important.

It was an action that would only take effect if done by the other, and no one else.

It could calm either of you from rage, or even help you fight the haze of drunkenness to be in some semblance of sober.

It was special. Meaningful.

Hence why your automatic reaction was to turn, to obey the silent request to face her.

“You’ll stay in touch, yeah?”

“…Yeah.”

Now you? You were weak. While the owner of your heart was devastated right in front of you, all you could offer for comfort was an unconvincing smile and a useless apology.

Her throat bobbed as she attempted to swallow back a sob, but the teary shine in her eyes gave her away.

Another surge of guilt struck your heart and made you avert your eyes elsewhere, anywhere, as long as they were not on her.

‘Look at what you’ve done.’

It was your fault. She didn’t even know why you were leaving so suddenly.

Your father had found out of your attraction to her, and needless to say, he didn’t take it lightly. A few strings pulled later, and you were being sent away to be “straightened out.” The thought almost made scoff during that particular conversation in his study, but you accepted the consequences anyway.

You should’ve been better.

You should’ve done better.

You didn’t protect her well enough.

The fault was none but yours… and the knife you felt in your heart would remind you for a long while to come.

~~~

 The second time you felt like you’d failed, happened two years after that moment in your college dorm room.

It took months for that scar to start to heal, but you knew it would take years before it would even begin to fade.

You’d tried to keep in contact, but you had your life to live and so did she. Not to mention the day your father heard of the two of you still communicating, he pulled more strings to cut you off. It was too late, anyway. You’d already stopped talking by then.

But whether the silence was for the better or worse was up for debate.

Just the thought of her made your heart lurch, and actually interacting with her never failed to re-open that scar anew. The space, however agonizing, let the wound heal.

Yet that very same space was what let you drown yourself into your current occupation. In order to compensate for the agony, you let yourself fall deeper and deeper into your work. Though at this point, you were questioning if you should even call it that.

Unknown to her, a month into your time in the military, a general offered you a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

You found it hard to believe. You weren’t stupid, you could read between the lines. You knew “opportunity” also meant “ulterior motive.”

He didn’t prove you wrong.

When you walked into the conference room you’d been instructed to enter, your eyes immediately fell to the only individual inside.

General Lane.

You knew three things about him. One, he had been your father’s best friend. Two, he had a palpable dislike for any and all alien life. Specifically, Superman. Three, whenever he began to rant, just smile, and nod.

It was only the two of you there, yet you couldn’t seem to find it in you to focus. Not after he uttered the words “military program.”

You already knew this wouldn’t end well.

Though you remained silent, your eyes having glazed over as the static in your ears prevented his words from reaching your brain, he continued to speak. You only managed to catch bits and pieces, but you got the gist.

They wanted to conduct an experiment and were looking for lab rats. They wanted you to be one.

You weren’t surprised they asked. To everyone else’s knowledge, you had no one left in your life but you. Your father made sure any links between you and Alex were cleanly severed, meaning any history between you two had been cleared. You had no family other than your parents, your mother having passed while you were still in your single digits, while your father had done the same just a week before this very meeting.

‘Tch… no love lost there.’

But, considering he was a respected figure and a close friend of the very same general right in front of you, you had to at least act as if his death affected you. Your father had always been one for appearances, so no one outside of the two of you (and Alex) knew just how estranged you’d been from the other. Because of this, luckily (or unluckily, depending on what way you view it), people took your indifferent poker face to be one of grief.

General Lane wanted to capitalize on that. On you.

You had military blood in you (because apparently that meant you were exactly like your father), you had a “reason” to go missing (grief, hah), and—as far as he was concerned—you had no close relations that would worry should you ever disappear (you… couldn’t really think of a quip to internalize there). You seemed like the perfect guinea pig.

“…We need heroes around here. Human heroes. Not those monsters who could fall to their instincts at the drop of a hat, or at the touch of some space rock—”

Again, it came with no surprise to you that extra-terrestrials were the main focus of said experiment.

You wanted to say no. Fuck, did you want to say no. You wanted no part in this blind hatred. But then…

“—They’re never here when we actually need them. A group of freaks like him are planning to go after National City to lure him out, and where is Superman? Frolicking off in space! The President had an entire clandestine organization made exactly for roach-connected situations like this, yet they don’t even know—”

Your blood ran cold, your hearing suddenly becoming clear as your eyes bore into his.

National City.

Of all the places, they had to go there. You didn’t give it a second thought. You didn’t have to.

“I’ll do it.”

.

.

.

You had no idea what CADMUS was, just that they were collaborating with the U.S. Military to make you and forty-nine others into the ones that would “exterminate the roaches infesting the planet.”

Sounded more like “short-sighted discrimination with an unhealthy dash of xenophobia” than “rational thought for the human race” to you; but as long as you could protect Alex, you didn’t care how much of the mindless drivel you had to sit through.

You didn’t count how many times you found yourself strapped to a metal bed, or how many times you found a needle being stuck into you. Rather, you couldn’t. More than half the time, whatever they put into your bloodstream always made you feel woozy. Enough to make you practically perpetually confused.

Any recollection of your experiences during the experimentation were impossible to stir, and after seeing that one woman’s all-too-amused smirk a few too many times, you were convinced that it had been on purpose.

Before you knew it, another month had passed. Not that you would’ve realized it yourself. Your best guess would’ve been a week, if it weren’t for the woman General Lane had assigned to you telling you otherwise.

She was about your age, maybe a month or so younger. Lucia was her name if you remembered correctly. She’d been left by him to keep an eye on you, or to “keep you sane” as she worded so eloquently.

She was the first person you saw the moment you could properly think again. Her calming presence was a breath of fresh air, and for a moment, everything felt… nice.

Until a soldier barged through the door of your allocated resting area, screaming about an attack.

Time seemed to blur once again, and the next thing you knew, you were in the middle of a war zone. A mile or two from some desert base in the middle of nowhere.

Only you and the rest of the fifty who had been volunteered for the Eradication Program had been deployed. You wished you hadn’t been. The others were bloodthirsty, tearing through the opposition the moment they were ordered to. You, however, chose to take a step back and analyse the enemy.

Most of the “opposing force” looked to be human, not alien. None of them seemed hostile, either. Well… until they were provoked, that is. The human-like members of their group—who you’re sure actually were human—were being protected by their definitely-alien comrades, clearly not trained for combat or any attack whatsoever. In fact, if their attire was anything to go by, they all worked in what could be considered “support” occupations. Engineers, researchers, varying members of medical staff… not one of them appeared to be soldiers.

What was General Lane not telling you?

Were you really protecting National City?

…Were you even in National City?

You felt your comms crackle in your ears, said general’s voice screeching, “What the HELL are you doing?! Move your ass, Six!”

Right. Soldier Six, your call sign. Simply because you were the sixth one to wake up.

How original.

You huffed, and in retaliation to the general’s orders, you tore the device out of your ear and threw it as far as you could over your shoulder.

Because frankly, you didn’t want to. Not when you’d been pit against wrongly identified “hostiles.”

Despite your stubbornness to keep your feet rooted to your spot, soon enough, you didn’t have the privilege of choosing to abstain.

The other “volunteers”—all forty-nine of them—began to stop and convulse. Their flesh rippled beneath their skin, muscles expanding and contracting in an obscene manner.

Something had gone wrong. Horribly wrong.          

Each and every one of them mutated appallingly right before your very eyes, all of them attaining a different level of horrendous to another. Some grew limbs, some lost them. Others had extra eyes while a handful had one left or none at all. A few had their nails elongate into claws, others had a tailbone that whipped its way through the air. More than half had lost the colours of their irises—no, not just the colour. The pupils and irises themselves disappeared completely. It was a horrific spectacle to behold.

To call these things a shell of their former selves, would be insulting to the humans they used to be.

Was this going to happen to you?

You didn’t have much time for your thoughts. The one thing that didn’t change was the sheer amount of bloodthirst coursing through their veins. With the supposedly villainous aliens already exhausted, they wouldn’t last a second round against the other volunteer—

‘…No,’ You shook your head, fists clenched tight, ‘Those aren’t the volunteers anymore.’

From what you could see, those men and women died the moment the experiments started. All you could do for them, was help them rest in peace.

And you doubt they’d be getting any rest with their bodies wreaking havoc as these beasts.

Using the enhanced abilities you shared with the monstrosities, you slowly but surely took them out one by one.

They fought like animals.

Yet no matter how many times they slashed at your body, no matter how many times they lunged for your head, nor how many times they made you bleed, you continued to end every single one of them. You didn’t want any of them to suffer longer than they already have.

As with most things nowadays, in your eyes, the details were nothing but a blur. Everything felt… vague. Flashes of claws, bones, and agonizing pain run through your mind, yet no instance remained distinct for more than a second.

…Was this a symptom? Of the experiment, or the transformation?

Fear of the truth made you falter, and a skeletal tail surging straight through your right thigh forced your focus to return. But then so too would the questions, along with the subsequent terror, until another wound started the cycle another time. Again and again, until after what felt like an eternity, the last of them finally fell with an inhuman screech. It was done. But at what cost?

You surveyed your battleground, heart heavy and clenched in an icy grip. You couldn’t protect them, save them. Any of them.

A mighty hack then reverberated through the painfully silent air and caused you to flinch. Your head snapped up to turn to its direction, your feet already making their way over. You’d thoughtlessly skidded onto your knees, the coin-flip reaction bringing you to the survivor’s side. It was an alien.

Your eyes were wide in alarm, hands flittering around as your mind buzzed at what to do. There were so many injuries. Far too many for him to survive, alien or no. Your eyes met his, and your breath hitched in surprise. His irises didn’t scream anger or disgust like you expected. Instead, they were shining in wonder so innocent, it was almost childlike.

“You… Your body… did not… revolt?” the dying male grinned, placing a hand in yours to grip it in glee, “M-Miracle! It… I-It is m-miracle!”

For a moment, you were confused. Until you followed his gaze and watched as your body slowly stitched itself back together. One shallow cut in particular caught your attention, the damage slowly disappearing before your very eyes, leaving not a single blemish on your skin. You’d been so focused on fighting, that you didn’t even stop and wonder how you were still alive. After this day, there may not even be a single scar found.

At another bloody cough, newfound healing abilities were far from the forefront of your mind. Your vision blurred with tears, a sob escaping without your control. It was your fault. It was all your fault.

“Sorry…” You hadn’t spoken in so long, your voice harsh and throat sore, “I- I’m so sorry.”

He weakly shook his head, “B-Blame… not… on y-you. Deceived. We… We all… were…”

“W-What?”

With a wince, he forced his other arm to point to one of his fallen allies, a human researcher about a meter or so north of you.

“Necklace… take…” the light in his eyes was beginning to die, you could see it and he could feel it. Forcing a shaky smile, he murmured in his broken English, “Promise… y-you… not feel… guilty?”

“I…”

You knew you’d feel guilty.

You should, shouldn’t you? This was all your fault! You were careless and made a mistake once again. You didn’t see through the veil, you weren’t smart enough. You couldn’t stop the others, you weren’t quick enough.

You weren’t enough.

And just like before, people suffered because of it.

But… although he was on his last seconds of life, he looked at you so brightly. He was still so hopeful. How could you break such a wonderous being in his last moments?

You shook your head ‘no,’ lying, knowing this would be a wound that would last a long time to come. From the huff he gave, you felt like he knew that too.

Nonetheless, he coughed out, “P-Promise?”

You swallowed, feeling a fresh wave of hot tears cascading down your cheeks. With another lurch from your heavy heart, you gave him a nod and a shaky smile of your own, “I promise.”

His smile grew a fraction wider, “P… Pro… mise…”

His last breath left him, leaving the hand still in yours to fall, limp.

You were wrong earlier, there was a scar left behind.

The laceration you’d received from foolishly grabbing onto a tail, the one injury that had been obscured from your sight by his hold, had left a mark. You knew what it would be. A memento, of another time you’d failed. Of the first time your naivety took the life of another. You let a sob escape your control.

And another…

And another…

For hours you stayed on the blood-soaked sand, the coarse particles dyed red with the proof of the violent loss of life. By the time you heard a chopper land meters away to analyse the aftermath, your tears had long since dried and the last remnants of your rampant emotions were now trapped deep within, leaving only your now-signature emotionless mask. Thankfully, they understood enough that your mind was stuck elsewhere and didn’t bother to get a mission report out of you.

They did, however, cheer at the averted “crisis.”

All except Lucia. It was a small comfort, but a comfort, nonetheless. Rather than cheering, she sat next to you, a consoling hand on your shoulder as she murmured apologies for wrongs not her own.

For a brief moment, you wondered why she was here. What her role was in all of this mess, how she got caught up in it…

But when the others’ voices drowned out Lucia’s and all you could hear was their excitement and joy, your thoughts were immediately overrun by pure rage. Your stare morphed into a glare as your eyes kept themselves glued to the carnage below, hand clutching the unseen necklace concealed by your dog tags.

You were the only one who survived.

You were the only success.

You were now a monster.

 ~~~

 It was two years later after that, that the third occurrence happened.

Although you held a great amount of distrust for the U.S. Military, you never left their command. Foolishly, you stayed and did whatever they said. You went to where they told you you’d been needed. You fought who they told you to fight. You killed who they told you to kill.

All because of your own fear.

What if you were already transforming? What if your body was just one second away from fighting whatever gave you your powers? What if, the moment you left… you went berserk?

One “what if” after another festered in your mind, leading to you to forcibly suppress your own self and play their perfect little soldier, if only to keep your own body at bay should it ever run amok.

After all, they created you. The only ones who would know how to stop you would be them, right?

Besides, what would you even do once you left? They’d written the end of your life for you the moment you agreed to be a lab experiment.

Who would you have turned to?

Alex?

You scoffed at the thought. You said “yes” to help protect her, not drag her into the damn problem.

For a year and a half, you’d justified your stay with those thoughts, and for more than half of that time you let yourself be used as a mere weapon. It took you a year until you accepted the truth of your situation, and it wasn’t until roughly three months prior to your third failure that you finally let yourself see reason.

 .

.

.

 You sat up on your bunk, eyes on your hands, staring at blood that none but you could see. Sweat dripped from your brow, faint screams echoing in your eardrums, audible just beneath the vigorous beating of your heart.

‘I can’t keep this up…’ You released a shuddering breath, ‘How long will I have to keep this up?!’

Ever since that day in the desert, your nights were never peaceful, your sleep never serene. You’d long since gotten used to the endless screams of terror, the unending stream of unfamiliar faces contorting in woe. But what you hadn’t prepared for—what you never thought you’d ever need to prepare for—was for those faces to suddenly become familiar.

Alex had been petrified, the alien terrified, and Lucia… Lucia lay on the bloodied, black dirt, prone. Her face perpetually mortified. Even after you lurched forward in your bed and had left the realm of dreams, their suffering still danced in the shadows of your surroundings, the remnants of their frightened faces flashing in your eyes like some ghastly slideshow.

Their misery was because of you. You’d stumbled too deep into the haze, and by the time you came out, you had become what you feared the most. The cause of their torment.

‘What am I doing with my life?’

It was on that night that you truly accepted the reality of your situation. You had let your mind wander and, without realizing, let yourself function on autopilot for too long. It wasn’t until now, on this night—when you were terrorized by their screams—that you accepted that fact. But you felt it was already too late.

By mindlessly putting your life on the line, you had saved hundreds of lives—or so you were told. Yet for every life you saved, you knew there had been at least one you’d taken in return.

Your comrades rejoiced at your feats, and even a few of the higher-ups praised your work.

And yet…

Why did you feel nothing? Why did you feel out of place?

Why did you feel like you were doing something you weren’t meant to?

You’d been confused, very much so. For over a year, in fact. Your body felt ironically alien. Different. As if you’d been sleepwalking the past two years. Your memories, too, felt foreign. They were more like dreams than anything else.

No… “dream” was far too nice of a word.

Nightmare—like vulnerable—seemed more fitting.

Your recollection of the past two years was a mess. There were only a handful of distinct memories you could recall, and all were of them. Alex… the alien… and Lucia. The rest were all a hazy blur, a fever dream that kept you jumping from one horrific scene to another.

You didn’t even know who you’d been fighting the entire time. No one ever gave you a clear picture, only stating where you were needed and what had to be done. You vaguely remember a mix of terrified faces, both alien and human. What did they even do wrong?

Did they even do wrong?

It was then that reality truly sunk in. You already knew that you were a weapon, one for them to use however and whenever they saw fit. What was hardest to swallow was the fact that the blood you’d let yourself spill—blood you could’ve chosen not to spill—could very well have been those of innocents.

You buried your face into your knees, fingers threading through your hair and gripping your pounding skull. You felt your nails dig into your scalp.

Luckily for your tattered mental state, Lucia had been there to help anchor you back to reality.

She murmured lowly as she gently pried your fingers from your head, and though her words went through one ear and out the other, her voice alone soothed you. You found that she knew exactly what to do, and even let you bury your face into her shoulder as she cooed at you softly, her hands tenderly drawing calming patterns on your back.

You’d been so happy that she was there. It wasn’t until hours later, after both of you had passed out in emotional exhaustion, that you woke up and realized that she had always been there. You’d just been too stuck in your own mind to see her.

When she woke up, her eyes meeting yours, neither of you spoke a word. Yet you both knew your dynamic had shifted, the air between you different. It simply went unsaid.

It didn’t go unseen, however. Everyone knew how dangerous you were, and after a rookie’s idiotic mistake, knew how equally dangerous it was to make Lucia unhappy in any way.

(His shoulder wouldn’t shove into others the same way again, nor would his ego inflate with the chasm you’d left.)

Stupidly, despite the revelations of that night—perhaps even because of said revelations—you continued living under the government’s employ.

In your mind, it was no longer just for your fear, it was also for her sake. If you left, you knew she would do whatever it took to stay by your side, regardless of the danger. Even if you were to be hunted, experimented, or executed, she would stay. And none of those fates were any you would allow to befall her.

No matter the gruesome sights that looped in your mind like a film at some grisly theatre, you jumped into the fray again, and again, and again. Still as reckless. Still as unrelenting. Still as guilty.

Not a single complaint ever left your lips. You felt you deserved it. But more importantly, you felt you were protecting her.

She didn’t agree.

The topic had been the spark of many arguments between the two of you, one such case being…

“You can’t keep doing this—you can’t keep living like this!”

‘Tell me something I don’t know.’

You stayed silent, sat on your bed in your designated quarters. Your eyes were trained on her pacing form as you fiddled with the fresh bandages on your arms, replies only said in mind.

At this point, this scene was common. You’d gotten injured, she’d gotten frustrated, and you had the decency to listen. You knew Lucia wasn’t mad at you. Annoyed? Maybe. But not mad. Her anger was always directed at the same people, and never to you. She just hated to see you hurt.

‘Unfortunately, it’s an occupational haza—'

“—And don’t you say it’s an occupational hazard!”

Or… not?

Lucia stopped in her tracks, eyes boring into your own, “There are always ways to complete your missions without you ending up a bloody mess, but they don’t care about that, do they? As long as the mission is completed as soon as possible, they don’t give a damn. What if you never healed? What if you actually found something that would actually get you killed?” 

You had no response for that.

“They don’t even know of the full extent of your powers—none of us do! They started sending you out the day after that desert! Yet here we are again… I don’t understand why we don’t just leave.”

You opened your mouth to speak for the first time, to remind her of the dangers of such a plan just as you always had in the past, when you felt your hairs stand on end. Someone was eavesdropping. Your glare flashed to the door, spotting an eye widen at your stare before rushing off. You’d rush after them, but you knew nothing could be done without arousing suspicion. This base was full soldiers, and thus witnesses. Unfortunately, it was also full of snitches.

You stood abruptly, causing Lucia to jerk in surprise. Her brow furrowed when she spotted the grim frown you now wore.

“We’re leaving. Now.”

She could only blink in shock, “Now?”

“Now.”

The conversation would’ve been seen as treason. Or, at best, the start of it. You needed to run.

She followed your unwavering stare to the door, the sight of its slight opening making the cogs in her mind connect the dots. Someone had heard, and were no doubt reporting you. Her shock melted into determination, “I’ve already got a bag of necessities packed in case of an emergency escape. Let’s go.”

Next thing you knew, you were both dashing through corridors, unfamiliar alarms blaring the moment you had retrieved her bag. It seemed she wasn’t the only one who had prepared for this eventuality.

Squad after squad were sent after you both, all made up of people you’d seen as comrades and allies not even an hour before. Any fondness you held for each of them, however, immediately dissipated the moment they aimed a gun even a meter in Lucia’s direction. With a growl, you tore through every single one of them, unabashed by their betrayed yells so long as her safety was assured.

But you’d made a mistake. You were focused too much on those aiming for her, that you forgot there were others targeting yourself. Lucia didn’t. Which is why she spotted the soldier pulling out a weapon from a case before you did.

It looked like a gun, but she knew it was different. She could feel that it was. When they overlooked her completely and aimed for you, she knew she was right. Without a second thought, she shoved you out of the way, just as the soldier pulled the trigger.

A bang echoed in your ears, then a pained scream and a thud.

Your heart dropped. She’d pushed you away. Because of her, the bullet only grazed your torso… before tearing straight through her own.

You fell to your knees, not sparing a glance away from Lucia even as you put a bullet straight through the head of the soldier responsible.

“You IDIOT! Why would you do that?! You know I would’ve survived it!”

Your eyes were panicked, breathing growing more erratic by the second as you attempted to staunch the blood flowing from her wound. There was so much blood… why was there so much blood?!

“No…” she shook her head, “You… You wouldn’t’ve. N-Not… Not this one.”

You could hear footsteps and voices growing closer. You ignored them.

“I always survive, it’s my THING!” You gritted your teeth, ignoring the tears leaving tracks down your cheeks, “Stop talking, would you?! You need all your damn energy!”

Lucia simply smiled, even as more of the coppery liquid slid down the side of her mouth, “Promise me… promise me you w-won’t blame yourself f-for this?”

Déjà vu. Taunting, agonizing, déjà vu.

“I… I…” more tears, and a sob. What ever happened to control? “…I can’t.”

Her smile didn’t waver, as if she expected your response. Instead, she lifted a hand to your cheek, thumb gently wiping a tear away, “I know what you’re thinking, and I know it’s hard f-for you t-to think otherwise, love… but this isn’t your fault. I chose to do this. Y-You couldn’t’ve done anything to stop me.”

“…” You shook your head in disbelief, feeling more blood seep through your fingers.

Why wouldn’t the bleeding stop?!

“C’mon, love. P-Please, look at me?”

“…”

You didn’t want to. You didn’t want to see her so accepting of her fate.

Yet you couldn’t help the confused furrow of your brows at her tapping your jaw, your focus immediately swivelling to her. Not on instinct, but in question, confusion, and slight betrayal. You’d never regretted telling her of your first love, of admitting that there were some things you could never forget. Until now.

“Th-There you are. I know it hurts, but you have t-to p-promise me, then you need to leave me.”

The familiar action had increased your pain tenfold, but her words had the panic in your eyes grow more intense, blood freezing in your veins.

‘No. NO. NononoNO—’ You looked away as you felt your body quake, the chill caused by her words making your limbs feel like lead, ‘Not you… anybody but you!’

You felt her tap your jaw again, but you didn’t look to her, preferring to stubbornly keep your eyes on your hands. You wouldn’t- You couldn’t.

“Please…” Lucia’s voice sounded so small, distant. Just like with the alien, you knew she was on her last breaths, and so did she, “L-Listen to me… they… now want you… gone. I-I know… it’s a lot to ask, but you have to leave me. Please. T-That bullet was meant f-for you—”

You couldn’t help but snap, “What bullet isn’t when I’m out on the field?!”

“N-No, love. T-They made it for you. T-To kill you…” she weakly shook her head, “I… I… s-saw it… wasn’t… normal.”

“Shit—SHIT! Why can’t I stop the god damn bleeding?!”

You hated that there were so many things that you couldn’t do. Why can’t you just do something—anything—right for once?!

As always, she knew where your mind was headed, “N-No matter… how little… y-you… think of yourself… I know y-you were meant… to be amazing. F-From the moment I… I saw you… I knew you’d be… a… a-a hero.”

“What kind of fucking hero can’t even save the person she loves?!” head hung low, you pulled your hands away from her wound, reluctantly accepting that it was futile, “What kind of useless hero am I?”

You wrapped an arm around her shoulders, the other draping itself across her stomach. You shifted yourself closer, cautiously embracing the dying woman. Apology after apology left your mouth, your tears dripped down from your cheeks only to mix with her own.

“It’s not… your… fau…” her hand, now much weaker than it had been earlier, fell limply onto the arm you’d placed on her stomach. When her fingers lightly squeezed your forearm, you knew what she expected. You released your grip on her hip, linking your hand with hers, making her chuckle faintly, “I-It… theirs… y-y’hear me? N-Never fo… forget… ‘s wasn’t… fault…”

“I… I won’t…”

You knew you’d never forget this day… just as how you’d never forget where the fault would forever lay in your mind.

“L… Love you…” her eyes were fluttering shut, and at the tug of her hand, you knew what she wanted.

You leaned closer, your lips pressing on hers for the final time. Only a second later did her last breath leave her lungs, and with it, one more piece of your fragile heart.

You could only stare, hoping that she would open her eyes and fill the deafening silence. But she didn’t, and you had to accept that she never would. When your mind finally opened itself to the rest of the world, you could hear the soldiers. Their orders for you to back down… or, more specifically, his.

General Lane.

When you saw a glimpse of his face, everything turned red and screams replaced the buzzing in your ears. You could never remember much past their anguish.

All you knew was the gash on your torso healed, but the mark never faded.

~~~

 Six months passed, and sleep was still a stranger. So were your mind and memories, but what else was new?

You had no idea where you were, you never did more than half the time. More often than not, you’d find yourself lost in thought, staring off at nothing as your finger lightly traced the scar hidden beneath your shirt. Sometimes you’d snap out of it, standing in the middle of an unfamiliar area. Occasionally, you’d stop yourself mid-step as you were walking or crossing the street.

Either way, people would be staring at you like you were insane. You couldn’t blame them, you felt like you were. That was fine, you never stayed in one area for long anyway.

For the past couple of months you’d been hopping from place to place, lingering only for three days at most. You didn’t have to do much to conceal your identity, considering the government already got rid of it for you. You did get yourself a new name, though.

Corazon.

Wasn’t exactly subtle to you, but it was better than Soldier Six and at least you could remember it.

How could you not, when your mistakes were always made by your soft heart?

You only wished that you had the ability to rid yourself of your emotions, then at least living would be somewhat bearable. You hated that even the smallest things could trigger your beating heart. It could’ve been a hair colour, a laugh, or just an oblivious pair holding hands, your heart wouldn’t fail to work with your fractured memories and remind you of what you’d lost.

You wished you could split the two, or at least rid yourself of one… maybe even both. You couldn’t think without feeling, nor feel without thinking. If you had no way to feel, no way to have a conscious thought, or both, then living a seemingly deathless life would be bearable. Sure, that sort of life isn’t one others would say is worth living, but neither is the one you are now.

The only thing keeping you away from finding a way to have that ‘plan’ to come into fruition, was the fact that—as far as you know—only the government could ‘help.’

You never wanted to make contact with those bastards again.

“Wha- HEY!”

At the indignant yell, you blinked yourself out of your stupor. Confused, you looked around.

You’d wandered into an alley. Huh.

Hearing a groan, you glanced down, spotting a boy who couldn’t’ve been any older than mid-teens. He was sat on the concrete, rubbing his forehead, having presumably fallen after colliding with you.

Then, you heard yelling.

You looked up and saw a group of men pointing and yelling unintelligibly at the boy at your feet. He sprang up and made a move to exit, only for your hand on his shoulder to stop him in his tracks. You felt his eyes on you, but yours never left the group stomping closer as they brandished their makeshift weapons in a supposedly threatening manner.

Hammers, nails in bats, metal pipes… generic, stereotypical, bad guy weapons. You saw a gun or two poking out from the waistbands of their pants, yet you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

When they stopped in front of you, they even puffed out their chests to make themselves look bigger. One of them stepped forward and grumbled with a voice made forcibly gruff, “You with this brat?”

“Pff,” You only shook your head in mirth. You’d heard of people like this in movies, but you never knew they actually existed.

His lips curled up into a snarl, “What’s so funny.”

“…” You smiled, tilted your head in faux innocence, and admitted clearly, “You.”

Predictably, your response infuriated him, and he launched himself towards you to attack.

Within a minute, him and his group were all unconscious, weapons—including their guns—left splintered and bent on the damp ground.

You grumbled, “Idiots.”

With another roll of your eyes, you spun on your heels and moved to leave the scene… only to face an overexcited fourteen-year-old.

“That was AWESOME!”

“!”

You blinked. You’d forgotten he was there. You watched, an eyebrow raised as he asked question after question, each going through one ear and out the other. Your mind didn’t register a single one, but from the rapid rate the words seemed to leave his lips, the number seemed endless.

Didn’t he need to breathe?

It was here that the boy lurched to a stop, his lungs lacking the air required to allow speech. You only blinked when he took in just a little too much oxygen. His overdramatic wheezing caused you to smirk and huff in mild amusement. His eyes darted to you at the noise, focusing on your mirth as he smacked a fist against his chest in an effort to abate his hacking.

“You…” he coughed again, “You don’t talk much, do you?”

You only offered a shrug in response. Considering past experience, human interaction wasn’t something you necessarily searched for. Generally, they all ended up morphing into some form of confrontation for you—or loss, but that was a thought hurriedly buried in the deepest recesses of your mind.

The boy wasn’t deterred by your silence. Instead, he seemed even more determined to fill the space with his own words. Again, most of them generally went through one ear and out the other.

“—I’m Lucas!”

Wait. Why was the kid telling you their name?

You still didn’t reply, but ‘Lucas’ didn’t seem fazed and continued, saying, “My friends call me Luke, though!”

He then scratched his head sheepishly, “Well… they would, if I had any.”

Head tilted in a questioning manner, your brow furrowed at his admission, movements that he managed to notice.

“Ah… well, nobody ever wants to be friends with the weird kid.”

You raised your eyebrow, and he pointed to the unconscious group at your feet as an explanation.

“Wouldn’t be the first time these guys went after me, and they don’t care whether I’m at school or not,” Lucas kicked away a stray can, giving the men an annoyed sneer, “Just that Dad ‘pays them back’ or something, I dunno. No one really wants to be caught up in a mess like this.”

You’d followed his gaze, staring at the people sprawled out on the dirty floor.

What were these guys, self-proclaimed tax collectors? Loan sharks? Wannabe gang members?

That last one seems to fit them to a T.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the loud growling of a stomach. And it wasn’t yours.

Shaking your head, you glanced back at Lucas, his face red in embarrassment. Without hesitation, you rooted through the pockets of a few of the men, forgoing their cards and instead pulled out handfuls of cash from their wallets.

You may already be considered a criminal by the U.S. Army, but you didn’t want more on your record than you already had. And you had standards.

You’d rather have “assault” and “pickpocketing” on that record over “not paying for fast food” any day. That last one just seems like a real shitty thing to be arrested over. Besides, you’d never steal from ordinary civilians… but you’d make exceptions for assholes.

You moved to leave the alley again, tousling Lucas’ hair as you went past. When you didn’t hear his footsteps following, you stopped at the entrance, sending another glance back towards his way you huffed at his stupefied expression before jerking your head in a gesture to follow. You couldn’t help but smile at his joyful expression, biting back a chuckle at his excited hopping at your side.

“Nice to meet you, Luke.”

.

.

.

Six more months passed, and after meeting Lucas, you haven’t left the town. You’d found out that he’d essentially raised himself. The kid’s mother was gone, and he didn’t know why. You met his father, and after that one meeting you knew he was useless. His debts weren’t even for necessities, just for his alcohol and gambling. Guy didn’t even seem to care that his son was the one suffering most from the consequences of his actions.

You were annoyed, but after witnessing him passed out in a bathtub, reaching over the edge to clutch at a toilet while a bottle of whiskey hung from his fingers, you knew he was a lost cause. Lucas knew it, too. Admitted that he’d known so for years.

You felt bad for the kid and did what you could to help. You kept those lackeys off his back. Got him clothes, food, school supplies if he needed them. You didn’t tell him where you got the money and he never asked, but considering how you’d initially met you assume he had a slight idea. You still didn’t talk much, and your attention span failed you at times, but he understood. He knew that you were at least trying.

At times he’d ask you for help with his homework, and you were convinced it caused you just as much grief as it did him. You could barely remember what happened months or a year before, let alone what you’d learnt over a decade ago.

You were a weapon, not a teacher. You could teach him how to kick ass with the best of them, but you didn’t know shit about literature or geography. Or whatever it was high schoolers learnt these days.

Even when you were working with the government, you didn’t have to know how to get around yourself. They just shipped you to the mission location and back, and that was that. You didn’t even know you got around now, considering how most of your time on the road was spent in your head.

You swear he only asked you to laugh at you. You’d try to intimidate him with a deadpan stare, but that only made the cheeky brat laugh louder. Your exasperation would fizzle out soon enough, his joy infectious. You found yourself feeling… happy. Normal. Like an average human. Something you never thought would be a near-unreachable standard.

But of course, as always, happiness in your life never lasted long.

You’d stopped moving. You stayed in one place for too long.

You’d focused too much on the present, that you forgot about the past you’d been running to escape. And so, it caught up.

You were running again. They were at your heels, this time. And you couldn’t just beat them into the ground.

Their weapons looked different. Their bullets hurt.

You didn’t want to believe that this was happening. Just this morning you’d been laughing with Lucas, pancake batter and syrup drizzled over your heads.

Now all you could hear were shouts and gunfire, blood dripping down a healing cut at your temple.

You wanted them to lose your tracks, but you knew how they worked. If you disappeared completely, they’d have to look for clues. Which would lead them to Lucas. Which was why you were leading them, herding them away like sheep to be as far away from the kid as possible. But it was not meant to be.

“Sis!”

The voice made electricity shoot up your spine, catching more than just your attention. You noticed a few soldiers turn to look his way as he ran towards you, even as you shook your head and urged him to turn back. He wouldn’t. You were family, how could he leave you behind?

“LUKE, RUN!”

…Was that your voice? Sometimes you’d forget what your voice sounded like, and not using it for weeks at a time definitely didn’t help your case.

He skidded meters away, eyeing the soldiers, his face conflicted, “But—”

You heard the crackling of their comms and spotted a few guns being pointed his way, one of them even pulled out a pin.

What the fuck was General Lane thinking?!

The kid was a civilian, not a criminal!

You sprinted over to Lucas, body shielding his within a second. You felt bullets pierce your back, easily tearing through the fabric of your clothing. You heard Lucas yelling for them to stop, but you knew they wouldn’t listen. You heard the tell-tale clinking of a grenade rolling on the concrete and you tightened your grip around him, eyes screwed shut. You heard the bellowed orders “TAKE COVER” and then…

Pain.

Searing, white-hot, pain was spreading on your back. You felt shrapnel enter your torso, the heat eating away at your skin. You forced yourself to endure the agony.

You were protecting him.

You repeated those four words in your mind like a mantra, mind clinging to them for a way to ground itself.

When you felt the dust settling, the ringing in your ears calming, you dared to open your eyes. And you wish you didn’t.

Despite your best efforts, Lucas had been hit. Twice. The projectiles had presumably ricocheted. Whether it was shrapnel or bullets, you didn’t know. All you knew was that he was wounded, and that you’ve failed once again.

“No…” You rasped out, tears obscuring your vision. Your throat hurt from disuse, but you continued to force the words out, “No… kid, not you too!”

“Hah,” Lucas laughed, not noticing the blood that came with the motion, “I’m… I… I didn’t e-expect to go like this. P-Pretty badass, huh?”

His eyes were beginning to flutter closed, the light in his eyes quickly dulling. Your breath hitched in your throat, and gritting your teeth, you muttered, “No, no… c’mon, eyes on me bud. Eyes on me!”

His head weakly flopped to the side as he grinned, teeth stained with blood, “S’okay… was meant t-to be gone in… in… that alley. Y’saved me… y’let me be happy… thank you.”

Lucas went limp. Just like that, he was gone. And so were you.

You didn’t flinch when the wounds on your back slowly stitched themselves back together, no doubt leaving a mark as every failure always did.

You didn’t resist when they forcefully yanked you away, uncaring that they had just taken the life of an innocent. The life of a child.

You felt someone forcefully lift your head, to which you muttered, “Kill me. Please.”

You didn’t speak any more after that, no matter how much they tried to get a reaction.

No… you wouldn’t do anything until you were either dead, or put face-to-face with the bastard you knew gave the order.

And as expected, they put him right where you wanted him.

You were back at the base, arid desert and all.

They’d seated you in a metal chair, one bolted down to the thick concrete beneath your feet. Your arms were forced to lie flush against its armrests, wrists cuffed into place.

You were in one of the interrogation rooms, metal walls to the front, back and the left. You weren’t fooled. You knew the wall to the right was a one-sided window. To know that there were people just watching you…

You felt like an animal.

It was only after General Lane stood across from you, after the only door leading in and out of the room clicked shut, that you even twitched. Your attention finally drifted up from the flimsy metal cuffs that they’d clamped around your wrists—not that they knew your strength had grown—and to the poor excuse of a man attempting to stand tall.

You glared at him, unabashedly showing the hatred burning within you. It made him swallow, despite the poker face he attempted to keep up. Your silent staring contest stretched on and on, his mouth repeatedly opening and closing in indecision. He wanted to speak, but had no idea what to say.

The people behind the window had plenty of words, though. You couldn’t catch all of them, but you managed to decipher a muffled few.

“Dad” was one. Which meant one of the people might’ve been his kid. Wouldn’t be implausible. Last time you paid attention to him, he had two. Girls, if your memory actually served you correct. And two of the voices you could hear were distinctly feminine.

“Our” was another, spoken with a lilt for emphasis before “Dad”, which meant both of his kids were there. If your first assumption was correct.

“Superman” was the last one you heard. It was the word that caused you the most grief. Why mention the “Man of Steel”? You remembered hearing someone rant about the Kryptonian, mentioning a possible relation between the hero and a journalist. One of General Lane’s kids was a journalist. That could pose a problem. If his kids really were on the other side of the glass, and Lucas’ info—

‘Luke.’

Any hesitation you had dissipated instantly. No matter what would become of you, you’d make this bastard pay. It was the least you could do.

Breaking away from the General’s stare, your eyes flashed to the window, cogs turning in your mind. Perhaps you could do worse than cause simple, physical, pain. You could expose him, have his children lose their faith in him. Even if they weren’t his children, they would be his soldiers. It could lead to questioning of his authority.

It was worth a shot. Besides, what did you have to lose?

“You killed him,” you snarled, “He was just a boy, but you killed him.”

You shot up from your seat. Rather, you shot up with your seat. The cuffs were still in place, but the bolts that held the seat down had lost their hold with a resounding crack.

General Lane jumped back in shock, the doorknob now jiggling as his soldiers desperately tried to come to his aid.

Without missing a beat, you tore your hands out of their restraints and pulled the long metal table that separated you two upwards, shoving it legs-first into where the door would be. The legs went right through the wall, the body of the table now blocking the entrance as well as the door itself.

‘That’s the front wall and entrance covered…’

With an audible growl, you turned back to the general, the man now scrambling back to push himself flat against a wall in fear. He was pointing a pistol at you, but you were undeterred.

You took a step, and he took a shot.

You took another, and he did the same.

You took a third, and the man emptied his gun into your torso.

You weren’t fazed, your fury burning too great for you to feel anything other than rage.

He looked like he was about to reply to your yell, but you cut him off before he could, snapping, “Your problem was with me. It always has been. There was no need for you to involve a civilian, let alone ordering your men to open fire!”

“I… I—”

“I wanted to live, so you tried to have me die. When I do want to die, you keep me alive. How much more do I have to suffer for you to be satisfied?! How much longer do I have to exist, for my wants to actually matter?!”

As you stomped closer towards him, you gripped the chair that had been meant for him and threw it across the room. The object formed a deep dent upon impact and rendered the back wall weak.

Releasing another growl, you lifted him up by the collar of his uniform, “How much lower are you going to fall, after murdering that poor boy? Is there even a bar lower for you to reach?!”

The general continued to ignore the futility of repeatedly pulling the trigger of his empty pistol, desperate for a way out. But without a miracle, he would never be able to escape.

Unfortunately, he got one. It came in the form of a Kryptonian, at that.

Superman broke through the dented wall, quick in separating you from the general. You felt your back smack against the one-sided window, the cool glass cracking beneath your flesh.

Oh, right. You hadn’t had the chance to change. Your shirt was still burnt at the back, the rest of your clothing tattered at the edges and your feet shoeless. Your state of dress seemed to come as a surprise to Superman, too. If the brief moment he took to observe his ‘opponent’ was any indication.

You glanced at the wall he’d used as an entrance. It wasn’t that much of a fall. It wouldn’t take much to heal if you got hurt. Ten seconds, at most.

Within a breath, you fearlessly leaped through the broken wall. You heard a choke of astonishment behind you as you did, but as much as you wanted to be amused by the alien, you recognized the threat he was to your freedom.

He was a goody-two-shoes. If he caught you, you’d just be locked up. And you’d be used as a lab rat or a weapon all over again. Never able to die.

You couldn’t let that happen.

You’d landed with a wince and a roll, a sickening crack shooting shocks up your left arm. You’d shaken off the pain, sprinting towards where you knew the weapons vault was. The rushing of wind reached your ears, indicating that the alien wasn’t far behind. Spotting the vault entrance straight ahead, you trusted your instincts and slid across the tile floor as if you were running a base. It worked.

Superman flew straight past you, and not expecting you to have sensed him coming, was going too fast to stop himself from crashing into the vault. Your eyes widened at the sight. You hadn’t predicted it either.

Hurriedly pushing yourself up to your feet, you’d rushed into the vault, mind flashing through the arsenal they had you use throughout the years. You’d known what they had in there, and one of them was definitely not good for a Super.

When you stepped foot into the vault, you were proven right. Superman was struggling to stand, green creeping its way through his veins.

“Shit…” without hesitation, you pulled him up. You wrapped his arm around your neck and dragged him out, uncaring of the guns pointed at you. You felt his questioning stare, and grumbled, “What.”

“Why?”

Such a simple question, made of only one word… yet the true nature of its complexity was beyond you. You shook your head. Not the time.

“Never wanted to kill anyone. Never wanted anyone dead, either…” You sighed, voice barely louder than a whisper, “Just wanted to be happy.”

Once you determined that he was at a safe enough distance, you promptly let him flop into the ground. You huffed at his comical “oof” before revealing the smoke grenade you had swiped from the vault. You pulled its pin, and as everyone’s vision began to be obscured, you muttered words only Superman could hear.

“Please, just leave me alone…”

 ~~~

You didn’t know if it was because of Superman’s influence, but you were. Left alone, that is.  Then again, it might’ve been because you’d kept away from civilization as best as you could, staying in forests for as long as you were able.

For how long at this point? You weren’t sure. By the time you’d left him in the smoke, it had been five years since the dorm with Alex. Three since the experiment. One since Lucia. And... none since Luke. 

With a shake of your head, their blurred faces and vague memories faded in an instant, the frown at the resurfacing thoughts of them quickly replaced with an easy-going smile.

The woods weren’t too bad.

The animals were surprisingly amicable, and you found an unfamiliar joy in jumping into lakes and rivers without any remorse. If you needed anything that couldn’t be provided naturally, the camp sites you’d managed to memorize the locations of were useful in that regard. Clothes, food, money…

You didn’t realize exactly how easy it was to steal from civilians until you weren’t one yourself.

Still... it should be troubling that you didn’t know how long you’d been living in the forests. Every day blurs together. You didn’t even know what forest you were living in. Or if you’d lived in more than one. Your memories continued to fracture, and due to lack of practice, you could feel your ability to speak and understand wavering.

Your memories…

Very few of them remained intact. You had a feeling that you had a part to play in it, intentional or not, considering that the ones you could remember seemed happy, and anything otherwise—anything that caused pain… either you got rid of them the second they came, or it made you retreat into the deepest recesses of your mind, never knowing how long you’d been in there the moment you returned to reality.

Could’ve been a few seconds, minutes, maybe even hours. It was partially why you’d lost track of how long you’d been living among the trees.

Every time you thought of your past, you were reminded of the burden that was carrying emotions. Of being human. It was roughly one month into living away from humans, that you accepted it was simpler to just ignore the fact that you had a life before this mess. That there had ever been happier times. If you couldn’t identify what was considered a ‘good’ memory, then you wouldn’t be sucked into the ‘bad’, right?

So you buried them. Even imagined little coffins for them and everything.

Part of you knows that it’s unhealthy. But that mindset is what led to those instances now being few and far in between—or, at least you hoped they were. Again, you didn’t really have a good sense of time.

But living was good. It was fun, not thinking of anything but what to do next. You could spend an entire day chasing after deer, or just climbing a tree. And do the same thing all over again tomorrow!

…It all sounds a bit boring now that you think about it. But oddly enough, the days were surprisingly fun. If you really wanted a thrill, all you had to do was start wrestling a bear! That was fun.  

You were actually rushing away from one right now, teasingly dangling yourself from one branch of a tree to another, when you heard a scream. A female scream, and then… a crash. While the noise terrified the bear, it only intrigued you, drawing you closer. Almost like a siren’s call.

You dropped down to the forest floor, tackling the bear in the process. After absentmindedly hauling it over your shoulder, you dashed through the treeline within seconds. Once out of the forest, you coughed as you blinked at the wreckage before you.

Two vehicles had collided roughly thirty meters away, the smoke billowing from the smouldering wreck making your lungs burn. What startled you more was the armed man holding a gun up to an injured, blonde woman twenty meters away from the crash.

You blinked at the man, who seemed to be talking the woman’s ears off. Rather, what was the word… monologuing? Yeah. Monologuing.

His cocky grin made you roll your eyes, the action leading to you noticing the bear’s presence on your shoulder. An idea struck. Your eyes narrowed at the man, before glancing over to the bear. The man. The bear. The man…

“BEAR!”

You gleefully yelled, startling them both. But what brought complete horror upon both humans, was the fact that there was now a bear hurtling towards them. Correction, towards the man.

He dropped like a rock, him and the bear both did. Whereas the poor, unharmed-yet-traumatised fuzzy animal quickly scrambled to its feet before sprinting back into the woods, the effectively disarmed male stayed flat on the concrete, out cold.

Tilting your head to the side, you walked up to the unconscious human, your brows furrowing as you wondered why he wasn’t moving.

You sniffed and rubbed at your itching nose, wincing at the horrible stench of roasting rubber. You couldn’t tell if the blood you smelt came from the wounds after the crash, or after the bear.

You gave him a light tap of a foot, checking if he’d wake up anytime soon. When the man didn’t budge, you shrugged and turned to go back to the forest, only to freeze when you were startled by the female he’d been threatening. You’d forgotten she was there, and the woman was far closer than you remembered her to be.

She looked stunned.

Her hands were hovering by her cheeks, palms over her mouth, tears brimming in her eyes as she muttered… a name? It sounded familiar. You didn’t know why. You tilted your head, confused.

“You…” she sobbed, tears now flowing freely. She stammered out, “You don’t remember, do you?”

Who was this woman?

Cautiously, you shook your head. Your was body tense, knees bent and ready to escape if you needed to.

“Nothing? It’s me, Eliza,” another shake of your head. She sniffled, “Eliza Danvers? One of my daughters brought you over for Thanksgiving a few times, you were like a part of our family, before… before… you disappeared.”

Danvers.

You didn’t hear anything past that, the word—name?—had a tremor course through your skull. That was… worrying? It should be worrying, right?

Your hands flashed to your aching temples, gritting your teeth, you croaked out, “D-Dan… Danvers?”

You hadn’t said anything in months. Your throat was probably as painful to use as your voice was to hear.

Eliza’s eyes shined brighter in realization. You were remembering.

“Yes, Danvers! Do you… Do you remember my daughter? She’d been your closest friend. Alex, Alexandra Danvers—”

Static was all you could hear. You dropped to your knees, the pain growing more unbearable the more she spoke. You barely felt the gravel of the road digging into your knees.

Alex?

Alex.

Who was—

“No… Don’t!”

That was… you? Why was this hurting so much? What was going on?

Why didn’t you want to remember?

You felt hands on your shoulders, desperately trying to… to what? Snap you out? Of what? Pain? You didn’t even know why it came up, let alone how to stop it!

Then… then a chill. One you haven’t felt since you encountered… someone. You couldn’t remember them, either.

All you could hear were your instincts.

Instincts…

Your instincts were screaming, frantic in wanting you to leave. To escape.

So you followed them.

Shrugging Eliza’s hands off of your shoulders, you jumped to your feet and swiftly fled into the woods, not turning back once. Not even when you heard her scream a name—yours?—and especially not when you heard the tell-tale swoosh of… a cape? You didn’t know.

Your thoughts made no sense right now. All you wanted was to go back and forget. To go back into the woods and be happy.

Just… be happy.

[gatherthesuspectspod]

A hundred ways to die in Wales

Hello Tumblr!

My first post ever here! I’m still learning the ropes, so please be kind!

This might be awfully presumptuous of me, but you may recognise the name from a few years back. Before all of this happened, I worked for BBC Radio 4 as their Welsh correspondent - a bit niche, I grant you, but I did alright on social media. I even had a blue tick on Twitter before it went down for good. 

At its peak, whatever media you worked in, scoops were delivered on social media. No one went to the radio or the newspapers for breaking news. Hell, even the TV news was struggling.  So, even radio journalists like me had to be twitter savvy, you know? 

It does make me wonder how Tumblr survived. As a journalist (well, former journalist) I should probably have done some research and found out…  

 My housemate, Jack, suggested I start to keep this blog so that he, in his exact words, ‘wouldn’t have to listen to me moan about not being a journalist anymore.’ So, here I am, coming to scream into the void that is the last social media platform standing (apart from LinkedIn… Shoulda known that even during the apocalypse, start-up CEO Chad Moneybags would still need to post motivational bullshit about 5 am starts and tagging every post with ‘#crushingit’)

Anyway, I’ve strayed slightly from the point… So, this blog isn't going to be full of hard-hitting investigative journalism or even those colourful local news stories you used to see about water skiing hamsters. It’s just going to be me, posting my thoughts about how much more screwed the world is than the previous week. 

Cheerful stuff, right? Well, as REM sang, ‘it’s the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine’. And you know what, while fine might be stretching a bit, it could be worse...

Before it happened, when people thought about the end of the world, we always pictured some huge catastrophe. ‘The Hollywood Apocalypse,’ Jack calls it. You know the kind - people screaming in the streets as some unspeakable horror unfolds about them. 

In movies, the end of the world was always sudden, over in a flash,  with pockets of humanity left to pick up the pieces of a shattered world. Except, that’s not how it happened, not that we should be surprised, life rarely imitates the movies. 

In fact, it happened so slowly and contained so many individual strands that by the time it arrived, it took us even more by surprise - even the right-wing newspapers didn’t have time to come up with some ‘pithy’ name for it. I’ve always liked the term ‘tipping point,’ The point at which every one of those strands, however linked or disparate, tipped the scales so far against humanity, there was no turning back. 

I mean, we shouldn’t have been surprised. We had been warned, after all. For years (no, decades, even) scientists talked about how we were destroying the earth. From the changing climate to the destruction of entire ecosystems, all in the name of capitalism. 

People warned us it would lead to societal collapse. It wasn’t hard to see it coming, if you were paying attention. But, even if you were paying attention, the sheer magnitude of it was enough to cause even the strongest advocates some blind spots caused by existential terror. Like a Lovecraftian monster rising from the depths of the ocean, who could wrap their head around the true horror.  

Instead, we played out our little culture wars as the planet died… we elected people to distract and not solve… we lied and allowed ourselves to be lied to. Until, in the end, there were so many that no longer cared about the truth that finding a solution was never a possibility.   

The rise of ignorance led to the rise of populism, which led to the rise of fascism, and eventually isolationism. Each country, widowed and trapped in its own poky bachelor apartment of despair. With nothing but memories of past glories to keep it going while the world around slowly burns.

The thing about this kind of creeping apocalypse, this tipping point, is that there is a certain mundanity in it all. There are millions dead, but there was no Hollywood pre-credit sequence of terrified crowds running through Manhattan. 

This apocalypse had an absence of symbols - actually, no. That’s not quite right. I mean, we don’t have the statue of liberty drowning in sand while hyper-intelligent apes roam the planet, sure. But last week, the sea caught on fire… the fucking sea! You’d think after completely decimating the planet for a hundred years, some companies may have learned a lesson or two - like not setting dire to the fucking sea again!

And just today, the newspapers are full of pictures of yet another ghost town in West Wales slowly sinking into the sea. We have our symbols, alright. They are just smaller, more mundane than the Hollywood apocalypse we always felt we deserved - as a species, we are so arrogant that we feel even our extinction deserves something special, something showy. But, like I said, if you are paying attention, there are symbols to be found everywhere. 

Is our slow, boring apocalypse better than the ostentatious apocalypses of Tinseltown, complete with their big budget explosions and alien invasions? I’m honestly not sure. 

One part of me used to think that at least then it would be over quickly. This was a particularly comforting thought during the war, as English shells rained down on Cardiff. But, even the war fizzled slowly, bubbling away around the fringes, with neither country having the resources, will or money to mount any serious threat to the other. It turned out that not even the newly installed Albion dictatorship in England could get away with a costly hot war, while millions of its citizens starved to death. 

It sounds weird to say, but slowly you adjust to it. You know? Slowly, bit-by-bit, the fucking sea being on fire doesn’t seem such a big deal as it did a year ago. Slowly, bit-by-bit, you stop watching the news. You realise the images of starving children 50 miles away over the border have become the norm. 

You become desensitised to the food queues, the extreme swings in weather, the rapidly shrinking coastline. When was the last time you even saw a bee? It’s all just normal. But in spite of all of that, we still sit here, night after night, staring at our tiny plastic phones, reading the latest #crushingit update from that douchebag Chad, half hoping that there is still time for the aliens to show up and finish the job…

I realise that was quite a long run-on sentence, but it’s been a while. I’m out of practice. Like I said, it’s been three years since I last wrote, well, anything! I don’t know if anyone will even read this… I mean how many people can even access Tumblr anymore? But, Jack was right, it did help to get some stuff out.

Until next time (possibly), stay bored out there!

Kara

[vanishingpod]

We took a little break last week from our Podcast Rec Sundays because production stuff took over our lives a bit, but we’re BACK with four shows we think you should check out! 

The Amelia Project: With season 3 right around the corner, now is the perfect time to jump into this dark, British comedy headfirst like we have. The show is set at The Amelia Project, an agency where people go to disappear--if their story and reason for disappearing is deemed interesting enough by the staff. Every episode tends to take the format of a client making their plea to be disappeared, including the planning stages...at least, to begin with. The amazing thing about this show is how it slowly escalates and spins out in absurdity, without ever feeling like it’s made a huge leap out of the world it’s set up. It’s a world where a woman wanting revenge for a cheating husband, a cult leader in over his head, an advanced AI, a self-aware fictional character with an existential crisis, and the Loch Ness Monster, all end up seeming pretty much par for the course, and the genre can swerve from comedy to satire to conspiracy to meta-commentary to mystery in the blink of an eye. We couldn’t recommend this more--oh, and you’ll want cocoa on hand. Trust us. (Find them @ameliapodcast)

Seren: If you’re looking for a sci-fi exploration story about the human spirit, this is where you go. We start the story, and spend most of the run time, with Seren, our protagonist, who has been sent on a single-occupancy spacecraft away from her home to join a colony on a distant planet. Not much more is known about the situation than that at the outset, and we are only slowly revealed more through the audio logs of Seren as she makes the journey, cycling through boredom, fear, desperation, loneliness, regret, and hope as she parses through her life up to this point and what she thinks she’ll be heading towards. An incredibly intimate story set in the vast of space. Seren is bold yet subtle, bleak yet hopeful, incredibly lonely yet inspiring immediate connection with the protagonist. The design, production, acting, and writing are all gorgeous, paced beautifully, and deeply felt. This is a show that always feels like it is barreling towards something but isn't afraid to let you live with Seren for a bit, feel what she's feeling, breathe with her, care for her, become her for a moment--it's an incredibly cathartic show in so many ways. (Find them @serenpod)

Valence: Alright, who wants some urban fantasy? We certainly do! Who wants a ragtag bunch of characters? We also do! Who wants to do crimes, but like, for the good of humanity? WE DO! There’s a level of tense glee throughout Valence. You could attribute it to the hyper specific and all-enveloping soundscape that bring the world of New Candler to life or even the excellent vocal performances throughout that make this heightened sci-fi/fantasy world feel grounded and navigated by flawed, 3-dimensional characters. Whatever it is, Valence presents a full experience. Through the story of Liam Alden wrestling with his birthright as a Magic User (‘muse’ in the show) there is a palpable sense of us vs. them, science vs. magic, industry vs. human interest, haves vs. have-nots, that make the story feel relevant and accessible. Honestly I found myself thinking a lot of the Uncanny X-Men and Mr. Robot as I listened to the storylines involving tech heists (HEISTS, we LOVE heists) and assembling a ragtag group of outsiders (again, we LOVE a ragtag bunch!) who are all galvanized to action against a technology conglomerate set on making life easier for some, by jeopardizing it for others. It’s a grand adventure, a call to action, and a fuck you to capitalism, and who doesn’t love that? (Not on tumblr, but you can find them on Twitter here.)

The Godshead Incidental: It’s tricky to put The Godhead Incidental under any one genre because it juggles a little bit of everything while also subverting a lot of the expectations of the genres it uses. It’s a sitcom, but also a conspiracy drama, a slice of life story that also features a world filled with literal gods, a workplace comedy and an emotional dramedy that deals with stuff like agoraphobia and millennial ennui. Also, there are pigeons, just SO many pigeons. We got sucked in by their amazing cover art and stayed for the instantly lovable, vivid cast of characters. Some of our faves are Em, our protagonist, a perpetually Over This advice columnist at the titular publication; Lorem Ipsum (a particular fave of ours), a mysterious, fast-talking thief that takes over every single conversation; and Tervis, Em’s agoraphobic landlord, who has a backstory that is both incredible and underwhelming all at once. The show is brilliantly produced, beginning to end, and is SO easy to immerse yourself in--we really don’t see any way you wouldn’t like it, to be honest. (Find them @godsheadincidental)

If you love any of these shows, please consider leaving them a review on Apple Podcasts, Podchaser, or wherever you listen to podcasts--you can also (depending on when you’re seeing this post) nominate them for Audio Verse Awards! 

Previous recs: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven. 

[missmarthanightingale]

empire - exploitation & erasure

exploitation & erasure are constant themes throughout both s11 & s12 in the leadup to the reveal in the timeless children.

going episode by episode, we start with the stenza in the woman who fell to earth.  they’ve been coming to earth, for lord only knows how long, hunting humans & bringing them home as trophies to prove their prowess.  this is a way of proving their superiority - in this case, a ritual demonstration of their ‘right to rule’ - & it’s a fox hunt.  the details are different, but it’s a fox hunt.  bc the stenza are an empire, & in doctor who, every empire is the british empire.

then we have the ghost monument, which properly delves into the stenza as a civilization.  angstrom, played by an irish actress, talks about how her people are suffering, how the stenza invaded & occupied their world & are now committing genocide, how the only way to save her family is to win the race so they can afford to emigrate.  this was blatant.  the other obvious theme of exploitation is the scientists of desolation, held captive & forced to give up their secrets in the name of scientific progress - this is, remember, the same episode in which the idea of the timeless child is introduced.

rosa is, at heart, a conversation about the civil rights movement & neo-nazis.  krasko is literally trying to erase rosa parks - &, by extension, the civil right movement - from history.  rosa parks is not the entire civil rights movement, but krasko’s an idiot, so let’s roll with that idea.  neo-nazis today are constantly trying to rewrite history; this episode is a call to refuse to allow it, & a reminder that the work of the civil rights movement is yet unfinished.  in britain, as well, as ryan & yaz’s alley conversation clearly shows.

next we have arachnids in the u.k. which is very blatantly a condemnation of corporate pollution.  it’s not explicitly about exploitation, except that jack robertson is exactly the sort of man who exploits anything & everything he can, & who gets ordinary people killed for his greed, just more dramatically & directly than most corporations that dump industrial waste wherever they damn please.  we also suspect that robertson will cover it all up & get away with everything, as his sort generally do.

the next episode that deals with empire is demons of the punjab, which really doesn’t fuck around.  the partition of india is a particularly shameful & very poorly handled chapter of the history of the british empire, following a century of exploitation & abuse, which resulted in a lot of bloodshed & death, & ongoing tensions even now.  it’s also generally ignored aspect of british history.  also ignored are the indian soldiers - indeed, the soldiers from across the commonwealth - who fought in the world wars.  this episode also deals with the forgotten, unacknowledged dead.

kerblam! is definitely about exploitation.  it indirectly deals with the exploitation of workers - on a meta level, i find it almost funny that they don’t dare call amazon out more directly - with things like the tracking anklets, the invasive monitoring of employees, the rebukes for even interacting with coworkers while on the clock.  & the system is explicitly being exploited by charlie, being used to harm people & intended to be the scapegoat for his actions.

the next episode has a strong theme of exploitation is the battle of ranskoor av kolos.  the ux are very blatantly being exploited - the younger, a black man, is physically trapped & used to create things for the benefit of t’zim-sha, while the elder, a white woman, is psychologically trapped by having her faith used against her.  interestingly, she also is made complicit in keeping the younger enslaved.  the ultimate goal of their labour?  reducing entire planets to objects that can sit on t’zim-sha’s metaphorical mantlepiece.

the exploitation in spyfall is about calling out tech corporations which treat people as products, harvesting data & selling it on.  or, in this case, use it to erase dna - destroy that which makes a person what they are.  that theme of erasure carries through to the doctor removing noor & ada’s memories; memories are a significant part of what makes a person who they are, & removing them is erasing a part of that person.

orphan 55 is a grim projection of the end result of exploiting the earth - explicitly attributing the bulk of the blame to the wealthiest & most privileged - even as kane refuses to stop trying to get something out of an already dead planet.  there’s also the appropriation of land which is already inhabited by the dregs, & yes, i’m still sulking about how the doctor had nothing to say about how kane was by some standards an invader & a colonizer - worse, the descendent of someone who abandoned the land, now trying to reclaim it from those who had no choice to remain behind.

next we have nikola tesla’s night of terror, which is a condemnation of both capitalism & empire!  edison exploits his employees & denies them credit for their work, taking all the acclaim for himself instead; tesla, despite his brilliance, is largely forgotten by history.  it’s interesting that the doctor makes a point of saying that the erasure of his contributions doesn’t make them or him any less valuable in long run - it is what you do, not what is remembered, that truly matters.  the skithra, meanwhile, are another empire, very strongly paralleled with edison, who try to exploit tesla’s brilliance - the tesla, i remind you, who is explicitly compared with the doctor - try to use him to further their own power.

praxeus is a more subtle & insidious sort of exploitation, using earth as a petri dish in order to solve another planet’s problems.  they also use adam lang as a test subject, keeping him in a lab & injecting something foreign into his body; rather the opposite of what happened to the timeless child.  suki’s actions, interestingly, are said to be born of fear & desperation - she says that her species are all but wiped out.  the shobogans, in the timeless child, are said to be very few in number; perhaps a future storyline for tecteun will feature similar motivations.

the next episode is also about exploitation.  the villains of can you hear me play at destroying entire worlds for their own amusement, they literally harvest nightmares, & they use the doctor to free rakaya - by convincing her that rakaya is something other than what she is, that’s she a prisoner & a victim.  the doctor always does take the side of the victims.

& finally we get the cybermen.  this isn’t an origin story for the cybermen, which is the most common type we get on the show; this is the cyber empire, which is set on eradicating the human race, sometimes hunting them down just to kill them, sometimes using their bodies for parts, literally erasing their emotions - their humanity - & turning them into obedient machines.  however unusual ashad may be, these concepts are impossible to divorce from any cyberman story.  which makes them the perfect lead-in to the timeless child reveal - the exploitation of a child’s body, with no care for them as a person, being the foundation of an empire.  which probably also makes the master’s cyberlord scheme a particularly satisfying just desserts, in his mind.

& of course, throughout both seasons, we have the doctor’s past as a constant theme - in the first episode she has no memory of who she is, but is nevertheless completely herself; she subsequently continues to erase her past, in a way, by refusing to discuss or even acknowledge it in s11; she never tells her companions the full story in s12; fugitive of the judoon, of course, has her running into a former version of herself she has no memory or knowledge of; all culminating in the discovery that she has aeons worth of lives that have been erased, not just from herself, but from the matrix as well.

also, i know i can’t shut up about ireland, but i reiterate that every empire in doctor who is some shade of the british empire, so i find it really very interesting that the hidden truth of the doctor’s life, disguised as the brendan metaphor, was set in ireland.  & he was working for the police.  Very Interesting Indeed.

[wandering-bitch]

Notes for I Have Always Loved The Door (pt 1)

I Have Always Loved The Door is the Wen Qing/Mianmian fic that all the wlw wanted but canon could not in any way make happen 

This is part one of three, i’m sorry, but it is a 30k fic and i’ve never written anything this long. it’s like. six months of my life. annotations are gonna be longer, too.

What is this fic About? Uh. Lots. Mostly your relationship with your past and your future. making choices about what you carry with you into your life.

title is from Charly Bliss’ “Percolator” but like. the rest of the fic is in no way related to the song. Just the lyrics “I have always loved the door/but I will always love you more/I love metaphors” fit well for the wen qing mood

it is a fucking CRIME that wen qing died, and while i’m happy that luo qingyang got a happy ending with a soft man who just wants to make her happy, i think she deserves more. so i gave her a fancy job

i struggled with the outline for this so much until i realized that mianmian’s canon arc is partially about saying goodbye to your home/family because you no longer fit there + it’s not a great place anymore. and that’s so close 2 wen qing’s

so that drove a great part of the plot, and helped shape the youya/tuzai bit

ch 1

the first chapter is so funny and then nothing ever approaches it, i’m so sorry i got ur hopes up with the shennans TTnTT

i hate most of my writing after it’s up but i still like this chapter. wen qing being a doctor, nmj knowing his place, mianmian cursing loudly

“If you’ve been knuckles-deep in me, you can consider yourself a friend” i spend a lot of time in this fic trying to kill wen qing with Lesbianism, but honestly that’s just to make up for mianmian killing herself with lesbianism.

this was b4 i decided to care how i ended chapters haha

ch 2

i’m proud honestly of this fic alternating perspective, bc it forced me to learn to write more distinct voices. 

“are you eating enough red meat?” “in the unclean realm?” 

if i had 2 be in a Great Sect i would 100% want to be in the big sexy sword jock sect but unfortunately i’m a vegetarian

please think of me, an average-sized gay, with noodle arms, pushing away all the giant cooks and self-appointed nie aunties, who are trying to shove meat into my mouth

like you know how cats avoid the bath??? and their people are like “jesus fuck how is this 10 lb animal defeating me, i’m huge and strong and also have thumbs”??? that, except it’s an average sized sword gay fighting ten RIPPED aunties holding out beef

i do love the mianqing dynamic i created here and i’m not sure i kept it up but WHATEVER this is about annotations not about editing

mianmian: god FUCK the jin clan, the jin clan sux. wen qing: hmmmmmmmmmm

i think mianmian’s three older sisters might show up in a future work in the series

yeah, i fell in love with this au, there will be at least one epilogue.

ch 3

oh ho ho!!! it’s the beginning of Sword Content!!!

i watched so many videos of dao work vs jian work and then i ignored all of it!!!

by that i mean “there were only like two decent-quality videos on dao work that i found on youtube and i couldn’t study them hard enough to get what i wanted”

someone trying to correct your practice with boring, irrelevant suggestions??? it’s extremely likely, it’s happened to me multiple times, i straight up stopped practicing outside bc of it

please, men, i’m begging you. if you see me doing martial arts, rather than correcting me, ask “oh cool, what are you doing? ah, i do [this art]” and like. talk with me like i’m a human

not to be A Bitch but there is a 70% chance that i’ve actually studied more marital arts than you, on account of most ppl abandoning within a few years, and me practicing aikido for more than a fucking decade

god swinging a weapon full-speed at someone and stopping inches from their head??? a Fun Time

mianmian’s doing it as a big dick energy move

but in my school we just trusted each other to not fuck up.

im too gay to want any “”””homophobia””” or “””discovering you’re gay”””” or “””coming out”””” plots, i just wanna fast forward to the “”””i wanna kiss a girl””” bit

OH MAN i forgot wwx’s voice in wen qing’s head. 

“even after his death the yiling patriarch managed to annoy her” i love wen qing

ch 4

IT’S THE MEMORIAL DINNER CHAPTER

memorial dinners are an important part of my household’s mourning process sorry

“she waved her hand to indicate the entirety of his use of demonic cultivation, fall from grace, and mass murder” mood wen qing. fucking mood.

oh my god im rereading this and seeing where i misspelled shit ugh. sorry lwj

so sometimes i’m vague about food and that’s because the only food i can think of when i’m writing is pork. i just. can’t remember what other foods u can eat. pork and also buns (but meat buns) soup? never heard of her. chicken? what is that??? piles of vegetables??? no one eats that obviously

please remember that im vegetarian and not only do i not eat pork, what i do eat is piles of vegetables

ah yes!!! time for mianmian to say prisons are for burning!!!!

our girls are both radical leftists sorry not sorry

acab, reproductive rights, prisons are for burning, capitalism is an inherently exploitative system, unionize your workplace

“tip your servers well” -- wen qing

wwx, shouting from beyond the grave: GET SOME, GIRLS!!!

wwx’s ghost: do y’all need anything? snacks? water? a condom? ah, love you kids, you keep me young

oh i forgot “for my local radical,” i should make sure to keep using ‘my radical’ as a cute endearment for the wives

ch 5

awwwww yeahhhhhhh trauma dreamsssss

writing jin guangyao is so fun!! and stressful!!!

fun because he never says anything straight, only through six layers of plausible deniability, and that’s just a fun exercise

fun also because i Love a Bitch. 

stressful because he never says anything straight, only through six layers of plausible deniability. 

the bit where he threatens to expose wen qing and mentions specifically that nmj does not like being lied to??? took me several times to perfect and im still not happy!!! 

but i’m deeply proud of him sending the flame hairpiece, that’s some a+ innocent-looking menace right there, that’s the only thing on this planet i believe in anymore

i loved making up sect politics that weren’t specifically “let’s put up watchtowers” because i don’t think that happened while jgs was still alive

uh @ self why did i capitalize da-ge that’s so uncomfortable.

oh my god i just realized that jin guangyao has to watch his ex boyfriend/nie mingjue treat mianmian the way he used to be treated oh fuck

sorry i was not at all writing 3zun cinderella when i wrote this so i wasn’t in the habit of thinking about jgy being in pain and now???

get fukt jin guangyao

he 100% cries to lxc about this later

what’s that??? you say i keep writing overthinkers who are anxious and terrified of everything??? huh i’m not sure i agree and if even if you were right i’m not sure it means anything

“grumpy frog” mianmian mvp

god the flame hairpiece is one of like two whole good endings i did for this fic haha

next time: ch 6-10!!

[derangedhyena-zoids]

You know what there doesn't seem to be a preponderance of on Zi?

Kids.

fair warning: this is a goddamn mess of a horseshitpost about history, population and reproduction dynamics, and chucklefucking about character genetics that I have unfortunately have actually spent time thinking about because my brain literally doesn't accept "idle" as a state. 

this probably gets a little weird and also contains mention of sensitive topic (tagged) so please be aware of that

Ok so

Compared to say, the society pictured in Fuzors (which doesn't comply with the xCentury-verse sufficiently and thus gets ignored by me), NC0 seems equally prosperous but a lot more resource-strained. Not "at that time" but simply as a way of life.

Nobody thinks of themselves as resource-poor, but nothing is terribly robust except in the largest cities (eg the modern day rebuilds of the old capitals, Guygalos and New (Helic) City.)

This isn't a secret. It's more or less been the case for the entirety of humans' colonization of the planet. That's why locale self-sufficiency is so important and why there's huge stretches of nothing everywhere. You simply cannot live wherever you want. The environment is fucking hostile and You Will Die.

So first off, let's be real: when you first colonize a planet and want to establish yourselves there, there's going to be rules/procedures in place regarding reproduction to make sure nobody ends up genetically representing too much of the population. It'd take a bit to get to the point of non-directed (and/or non test-tube) reproduction even being allowed.

Basically, space humans colonizing alien planets gonna have hella birth control tech available. There are no "oops" offspring. I'm inclined to think it's actually something that's been modified on a very base level (read: likely genetic modification, is heritable) level, that would require outside intervention of some kind (eg chemical) to make reproduction possible.

The point of "safe to naturally mingle" would likely correspond with the eventual, initial tech-dip as the stores of things from initial arrival were finally depleted (because it was probably planned out that way), and tech that was arrived with started to go offline permanently.

They'd have to be settling into what they could do and make with the resources available on Zi, meaning that avoiding uncontrolled population growth was still a huge priority, because the let's-successfully-establish-civilization mindset would still be thoroughly ingrained at that point.

There'd be hundreds of years of "danger zone" population levels where large adverse events could've easily wiped them all out if they weren't mindful. But, they were, and humans colonized Zi successfully (...again), good job, hooray

The overarching society-level birth control was well-codified in the various cultural groups that arose. But these inclinations did change over time as larger and more friction-prone groups formed (read: the Empire, over time, became large and in charge, discontent developed and huge chunks of people kept trying to detach. Eventually the Republic cropped up. You need more people to be a bigger thing.)

Any desire to handle the population with kid-gloves all but went out the window as the first conflicts started and people were killed. These conflicts eventually escalated into the long-standing wars between the Empire and Republic, and restrictions on reproduction basically went away. (+depending on who was in charge things may have even Yikes'd in the other direction)

(just a canon-fyi I'm not following the Battle Story in the slightest, I'm only trying to make the xCentury anime(s) function. Zoids' various canons are like Transformers' canons - A MESS)

Before these wars started happening, not much besides the occasional natural disaster, accident, or simply old age killed anyone. People can live a long time on Zi! Much longer than usual.

Why? Because a lot of human common human pathogens from Earth simply *wouldn't exist* there (space humans are gonna be really careful to not tote that shit around), so there's only really lifestyle-related issues, latent or new-mutation genetic problems, and any micro-organisms on Zi that mutated sufficiently to be able to affect people. (which is not really a stretch if we're going by the thought that Zoidians were long-evolved humans. The Zoidians were there a LOT longer than humans have been)

so. modern day. I have NC0 a few hundred years after CC/GF. As a whole I think the human race on Zi is relatively young, but a lot of the oldest information (like "exactly when we fucking got here") was lost in Imperial/Republican wars.

Those went on for hundreds of years themselves, enough to establish mass Zoid manufacture as The Way Of Things(tm) and otherwise entrench what became the norms for human society there. (I STRONGLY suspect there's still a lot of residual Imperial/Republican tension in places/families and that Backdraft was founded by, for lack of a better word, Imperial sympathizers with a longstanding grudge against a unified GF-run government *coughhh Alteil cough* but... I digress)

Humans are at a perfectly serviceable population. I actually hesitate to put a number on it because I don't know what # value would properly represent "a sustainable amount of people on a barren planet with very limited resources" but it'd be a sizable population (I'd guesstimate tens of millions). I imagine the GF, being the unquestionably-global governing body*, is relatively authoritarian as far as the core population and major cities go. They obviously can't tightly police the whole planet, but they can certainly keep an eye on it.    

This doesn't mean it's a dystopia or that the GF is evil or that it's anything bad, really. I sort of picture it being run by Committee, likely made up of various descendants of powerful families ([insert 10 tons of political intrigue here that I'm picturing, it's amazing, ANYWAYS]) Zi's government is definitively a plutocracy.

There were plenty of people on the planet who were ambivalent towards the Empire and the Republic's nonsense and just carried on what social norms and culture that had been established by the early colonists. Many didn't LIKE that all the fighting was happening because innocent, uninvolved people kept getting killed, and that sucked because they just wanted to live quiet lives in secure towns and be left alone.

There was also a desire for more law enforcement in general, since gangs, bandits, and the Zi equivalents of sovereign citizens kept causing problems. So when the Guardian Force was established initially to wrestle peace into place, it was largely welcomed and people were very, very glad to get rid of hundreds of years of war.

This also meant a lot of people had kids because things became markedly more stable. In fact what led up *to* New Century was probably several solid centuries of strong population growth, establishing additional stable strongholds in habitable areas (new cities were established and built up), modernization and other general signs of prosperity.

So, all this blah blah blah leads up to several key realities for New Century:

-There isn't a strangehold on population growth, nor are there formal limits. However, the chemical-whatever that causes the inbuilt birth-control to fuck off is under the purview of - or at least monitored by - the government. So... there's that. It's also overwhelmingly likely that people have figured out other sources for this over time, if for some reason they're distrustful.

-This inbuilt bc is in effect for everyone. Both folks involved have to be on board. I mean, it'd technically be possible to surreptitiously slip some of the chemical-whatever to an unwilling partner? But it's not like that would be difficult to figure out.

-Family units range from what we'd recognize as a 'family' to entire towns sharing children/parenting responsibilities. Monogamy is the norm but polygamy isn't weird. People can be pretty sexually loose and it's not frowned upon at all - because let's be real, NC0-society is at full-on bread-and-circus levels of operation. There seems to be a moderate anti-intellectual bent and Zoid battles are the height of achievement. People are chasing highs as a way of life.  

Topically relevant individuals' headcanon:

I think Steve's wife died in childbirth (having Leena.) It neatly explains what happened to her and Layon's unhealthy obsession with Leena.

Feel like Bit and Brad both were raised in the more "communal" type of settings.

Harry's family comes from old Republican money.  

Stoller came from a family that's the equivalent of a house in the south that has confederate flags everywhere. Except they're Imperial.

ARE YOU STILL HERE? GOOD LORD WHY. WELL NOW THIS IS A SHITPOST ABOUT ZOIDIAN HYBRIDS AND OTHER ANCESTRY FUCKERY

Remember in some other post I wrote I said that when you start to hybridize Zoidians in, reproduction becomes more difficult? That's IN PART because of the bc thing, and in part because general genetics fuckery. But once you *had* a hybrid you had very robust individuals, who initially lacked a fully functional version of the inbuilt bc. Over time that was mixed back in, but there were at least a couple janky generations.

Literally every hybridized line in existence is either from Hiltz or Ryss. Fiona didn't reproduce (wasn't for lack of trying. Both her and Van being bonded to the same Organoid caused problems in that department.)

Ryss had two kids with Raven. The reality of Raven aging and dying sucked. The reality of her kids, grandkids, etc aging and dying sucked. Though her immediate offspring lived a lot longer than progressive generations did, as the bloodline became more diluted, a slightly-improved human lifespan became the norm. This was incredibly depressing to Ryss and is a large part of why she fucked off to the middle of nowhere to live with things that wouldn't age out and die on her. It's also why she didn't continue to have children.

Hiltz... Hiltz fucked (and well, raped) a lot of people (50% as a power/hate thing and 50% because he's from the Feed-Fuck-Fight club) and some of the people that lived to talk about it had offspring. The same aging issues were in effect for these offspring, but unlike Ryss's family they didn't have the benefit of anyone explaining what the fuck was going on. So they had a strange time.

Remember that these direct hybrids would've been of age squarely in the aforementioned, post-GF "everyone is having kids" time, so a fair number of distinct new lines were created and persisted. There was also a weird range of ages involved, because the direct hybrids lived A WHILE and could have offspring for most of that time.

Now, in the context of "many years later", this means a fair number of people carry these genes in varying dilutions. It's not a large amount in the context of the entire human population. It's a handful of family lines with increasingly baffled histories. But family groups frittered a lot in the aftermath of GF, so a lot of that knowledge was functionally lost.

Basically no one has any idea anymore, what little idea that they had in the first place. The only families with distinct and traceable genealogies are the rich/old-money ones.      

So, in the NC0 cast I officially headcanon 5 folks as these dilute-hybrids. You know most of them; Sara, Vega, and Brad, but I'm impolitely adding Stoller and Iyaga (Ehga?) to that mix because reasons.

Brad and Iyaga are from Hiltz's line. Sara and Stoller are from Ryss's. Vega is unique in that he draws from BOTH; Ryss from his mother's side and Hiltz from his father's. Sara had a *really* hard time actually having a kid as a result of that particular genetic fuckery. IMO this explains some of her behavior towards Vega - by the time she had him she was so emotionally estranged by both the loss of Vega's father and the loss of numerous pregnancies (and by that time was more involved with her 'backdraft career'), she struggled with BASIC AFFECTION.

anyways, thanks for coming to the world's most useless ted talk  

*ZBGF is like world-police, GF is world-gov, ZBC is a branch of ZBGF that keeps battles in line (and monitors usage of things). The GF is "background", in that it's using the more-friendly-seeming ZBC as its eyes and ears while keeping track of things on a higher level.

p.s. the bc thing is actually adapted from another story of mine's background, so don't worry I didn't spend ALLLLLL this time thinking about that for this only sdhgfjdfdf

[mintchocolateleaves]

Jump Ship (8/?)

The next part of the Space Pirates au! I'm still no where near a computer so I'm super sorry for the lack of a 'read more'. Eh. Anyway, enjoy! (I've been considering writing the prequel with KID and his crew's backstory recently, is this something you guys would want?)

---

Hakuba meets him just as he's stepping into the hold.

His arms are crossed, brows raised in the way they do when he wants to say something but is biting his tongue. Kaito lets him keep whatever it is to himself - if the guy isn't willing to say it outright, then it can't be all that important.

"We're going to do some interrogations," Kaito says, after a second, pausing in his step to watch the man's reaction to the words. "You used to be good at those, right?"

Hakuba shudders. He says, "I got by."

"Number one at extracting confessions," Kaito continues, "and you didn't even need to torture anyone, think you can do the same now?"

Hesitation. They already know that Hakuba doesn't really want to. But the man will, for his sake, because it's something Kaito is asking for, and he's in no position really, to refuse.

"I'll try," Hakuba says, frowning. "If you ask the questions, I'll get what I can."

"I want a name," he says, "anything else is a bonus. Anything you think of that can get us closer to it, then do it."

Hakuba nods, readjusts his mask, and follows Kaito into the cells where they've left the prisoners - Hattori and Toyama. Both still tied up, they sit inside reinforced glass cells rather than the barred cell that their captain had been placed in.

At their footsteps, the two glance up. Their eyebrows thread together into a look filled with venom, and rage, irritations that bleed out into the air, contaminating the air into something more toxic. Kaito ignores the looks - he's been dealt worse - and makes his way nearer to their cages.

Hakuba, stands beside him, back straight, shoulders pushed back, as he looks down his nose at the two. He's assessing them, Kaito knows, watching the way their muscles tense and their jaws grit together with their anger. He spots things that Kaito does not - not consciously - and he jots them down in his thoughts for later assessment.

He's trying, Kaito knows, to get a proper read of them, and their surrounding energies.

"We've got a few questions for you," Kaito says, crossing his arms. No response. "Hattori and Toyama right, those are your names? Things will go better for you, if you respond to what I say."

Toyama is the one to shift, to say anything. "Why should we respond, when you've taken us prisoner."

"It's in your best interests," Kaito says. She doesn't seem convinced, raising an eyebrow as she realises that probably, they still have the upper ground. All those secrets… "And in the best interests of your captain."

Hattori jerks.

"You better not have done anythin' to him."

Accented. They both speak with an accent that Kaito can't place - he tries to, but it must be from a planet he's not heard before. It's stronger on Hattori, more so that Toyama, but he hears it in her too. An uncommon planet… possibly one of the early planets, one that'd been long since overrun with military.

"Not yet," Kaito chirps, pushing his hands into his pockets. He wavers on his feet, loitering, forcing the control more in his own direction. A weakness for these two: They show too easily who they care for, where their loyalties lie.

Kaito would die without a second thought for his crew, but he would never give the impression of doing such a thing to those around him. Kaito cares, but to everyone else, KID can easily replace crew when they run out of use.

Someone should have taught these two that sometimes, the impression of cold and callous can be safer than protection and warm.

Oh well.

"But that can change," Kaito says. "You'll tell us what we want to know, right Hattori?"

Hattori exchanges a glance with Toyama, closes his eyes and says, "We ain't telling you shit."

Ah, a shame. Kaito doesn't like offering empty threats, but he also doesn't like filling them either. Maybe because as much of a criminal as he is, he doesn't really like harming people until his hand is pushed, until there's no other way.

"A shame," Hakuba says. "If you can't tell us anything, and he won't tell us anything, then there's no need for any of you."

Kaito turns. He slows himself, simply so he doesn't jerk to the side, watching Hakuba move. Where Hattori and Toyama are coiled anger, and Kaito is feigned nonchalance, frustrations bleeding through, Hakuba is relaxed.

In his element.

Hattori snarls, "what the fuck is that supposed to mean? If ya think you can kill us without us fightin' back, you're sorely mistaken."

Kaito goes to open his mouth, to say no one will be killing anyone else today thank you, but Hakuba simply shrugs. As if he's a sociopath or something, who doesn't care about dropping threats of murder into conversations.

He has to force himself not to shudder, tries to think of something else, forgetting the way his friend had been back when the capital still had their claws in him, back when he'd still been a detective, a-

Nope, not thinking of that today, either.

"It means that there's no use for you," Hakuba continues. "We don't keep things we have no use for, do we, KID?"

Ah, dragging him into it. Kaito hates when he does this. Now he's going to seem even more like the bad guy. Well, what the heck, if he's got to be the bad guy to know what the hell is going on with this ship, then so be it.

"Your captain," KID says, "will go first, an example to the both of you. Then, we'll be rid of the two of you."

Hattori growls. It's animalistic, feral, a sound that makes Kaito blink twice, trying to wrap his head around it. It's not a sound that just anyone would make, the way it vibrates through his throat, the way it festers around his tongue like a raging animal.

He's not human.

He can't be.

"We'll fight back." Toyama claims. She's calmer, but not by much. If Kaito looks closer, he can see the hairs on her arms standing up, goosebumps spreading down her arms. Her muscles are posed to strike - they'll come for the glass first, Kaito has no doubt the two would be able to shatter it.

"You won't reach him in time," Hakuba says. "You can't win a race against the airlock once it's set off, after all."

Kaito shudders. Okay, so not only are they threatening murder, they're threatening to send their captain out into space, suffocating inside of the void, without a space suit. How lovely.

The threat works though, they can see it in the way Hattori's body freezes.

"You're bluffing."

"Am I?" Kaito asks. And then, "Akako."

She connects through the speakers. "Airlock override complete, systems ready to deploy whenever you wish KID. Should I release?"

Kaito offers his wildest grin towards the quartermasters, and says, "do it."

"Preparing to deploy airlock 2-b-"

"Wait- wait, wait!" Toyama throws herself forward, bites into her lip. "We'll talk, we'll tell you anything please-"

"Stop it," Hattori adds, desperation leaking through, "you can't kill him please don't-"

"Akako," Kaito grins, "delay the release. As for you two, we're going to try this again - and just so you don't go lying to us, we'll start with something we all know. Our dear ole' Captain's name."

[once-there-was-a-purpose]

People are willfully ignorant. There is no way around that. It has been proven time and time and time again until the catastrophe is not only at our doorstep, but decaying everything we hold dear.

But that's the problem, isn't it? It's not everything WE hold dear, because humans are stupid. Humans are greedy and selfish and the only thing we care about is expansion.

"But greed is a natural trait!" True. You're not wrong, most creatures have developed to focus on the wellbeing of themselves, so why attack people for it? Why not... chimpanzees?

I attack people for this because we have the audacity to shoot and burn out way up the food chain, abusing our intellectual capabilities and stamp other organisms beneath our metaphorical boot for being lesser. Because they're 'animals', they run only from instinct.

We don't get to claim ourselves above animal status only to hide behind it when faced with a challenging situation. Our brains mean we are more than capable of rising above baser instincts and it has been proven on countless occasions. This is no different.

Yet we choose to expand our empire beyond natural limits.

There are more than eight billion human beings on this planet. Eight. Billion. That is just...it's horrifying. We're already facing mass starvation, water shortages, homelessness, unemployment, cutting down masses and masses of beautiful ecosystem to consume in our desperation to grow.

Why is that an issue? Because humans are evil. Humans are cruel, the only creature capable of malice. Everything else is just trying to survive. What gives us, the guilty, the right to survive over the innocent organisms that exist in total sync with their environment? They exist with it, not to destroy it.

Yet we're still growing. Our numbers increase, medicine evolves, death rates decrease, infertile couples can procreate, birth rates soar.....it's exponential. The human population is so heinously large that there is no longer a feasible way to control it.

We're not even trying, so obsessed with social image and ethics and empathy that we can't employ one child policies (may produce another post on this), we can't employ capital punishment, we can't cull the minority for the good of the many.

It's called utilitarianism. Kill fifty million for the survival and wellbeing of billions in the future. Chances are, it would take more than that, and to you? It's surely heinous to imagine.

It's never going to happen, so what consequences are we looking at?

We're going to grow, and spread, and dig our poisonous roots into every pure corner of this planet until there's nothing left. We will destroy every square foot of land simply in a desperate bid to feed and house ourselves. Then what? Mass extinction.

It's already happening: the Holocene extinction event. Look it up. If you have a single decent bone in your body, you will feel like slime. You should. Every human on this earth should feel like scum.

And it's not just earth. Not only are we hell bent on decimating this beautiful life-giving goddess of a planet, we are trying to expand even further. What do you think happens if we ever find a habitable planet? We'll destroy that one too, and move on. We're destroying carbon sinks, oxygen factories (the trophic cascade of removing massive shark populations decimating algae growth- once again, look it up) entire ecosystems, entire fucking planets, and the solution is so fucking easy.

Not democracy. It works, of course, theoretically- just like communism. But this world doesn't run on fairness or equality or the choice to vote; the lazy fucks with more money than they can spend in a hundred lifetimes give a few million here, a few million there...they influence the wealthy and the powerful in order to sway decisions and polls. They play on fears, on insecurities, and it's absolutely heinous.

No. Democracy in human populations will always end in war.

We need one person. One person that has the ruthlessness and the guts and the empathy to cull the human population, to rule out of a genuine desire for the good of the human race. Not for power, or malice, or money, or recognition. We are monsters, make no mistake, and how do we defeat monsters? Become a bigger one. Badder.

Of course, it wouldn't be instantaneous. There would be riots and chaos and suicides and murders, but after decades things would improve. More space, more food, equality, wages determined by economic value of the job. The environment could be allowed to recover, we could preserve the fragile remains of what little is left on Earth.

Ruling through fear is effective. There would be the occasional rebellion, but after a few decades? You could literally stand in one place and see the 'before' and the 'after'. You could take one person and evaluate the difference in their quality of life.

Once that happens? Once the consequences begin to become obvious? You'd hope that people would have the common sense to continue this system, to ensure that things never explode in horrific proportions again.

"but-" no. No buts. There is no hope, now. Not for us, for the environment...None. Not under "democracy", not with the immense population, not with the thousands of political and ethical separations of human society. We will destroy everything, including ourselves, in a bid to become "empathetic" and "socially correct" and "good".

We need one person, and one aim: to preserve, to survive, to give as well as take.

Don't attack me, just...think about it. Seriously, think. It's hard for most people, because this truth goes against everything you've been taught. It goes against your ethical beliefs, your morals, your political views....Please, I beg you, sit down and think. It may take hours, it may take days, even months, to understand. But you will.

You have to.

[dillydedalus]

what i read in march

several antigones & some other stuff

call me zebra, azareen van der vliet oloomi

oh boy. i really wanted to like this one, but uh. nah. so this book is about zebra, a young iranian-american from a lineage of ‘autodidacts, anarchists and atheists’, still traumatised by her childhood experience as a refugee (incl. her mother’s death on route). when her father dies years later, zebra decides to retrace the route of her exile thru barcelona, turkey, and back to iran. this sounds great! the beginning is good! but zebra is a quixotic figure (don quixote is unsubtly flagged as THE intertext several times), delusional about her own importance, obsessed with some kind of great literary mission and obnoxious & condescending & egotistic as all fuck (she looks down on students but treats her realisation that like, intertextuality is a thing, as this grand revelation when like..... we been knew since Lit. Theory 101) - and this is intentional & part of the quixotic thing & in general i approve of abrasive & bristly & difficult female characters BUT i expected there to be a gradual process of realisation where she sees that a) maybe her entirely male lineage of geniuses ain’t all that, c) her mission is uh.... incomprehensible. instead, once she reaches spain, she gets bogged down in endless pretentious bullshit and a #toxic relationship that takes up way too much space. knowing that all of that is likely intentional doesn’t.... make it good. also the writing is pretty overwrought for the most part & not even your narrator’s voice being Like That excuses plain bad writing, like the  absurd overuse of ‘intone’ and ‘pose’ as dialogue tags. i see the potential and i see the point & i liked some of it but uh. not good. 2/5, regretfully, generously

in the distance, hernan diaz

i don’t really go for westerns or man vs wilderness stories but damn i’m impressed. despite the violence & deprivation and sheer amount of gross shit, this story of a swedish immigrant getting lost in the american west for decades remains at its core so human, so tender, so sad (honestly this book is SO SAD, yet sometimes oddly hopeful), so evocative of isolation, loneliness, and the desire for human connection. 4/5

notes on a thesis, tiphaine rivière (tr. from french)

god, if i ever considered doing a phd i sure don’t anymore. this is a short graphic novel about a young woman’s descent into academic hell while writing her dissertation about labyrinths in kafka. it’s funny, the art is expressive and fanciful, and it is incredibly relateable if you’ve ever tried to actually write your brilliant, glorious, intricately constructed argument down, battled uni administration or had a panic attack over how to phrase a harmless email to a prof. Academia: Not Even Once. 3.5/5

red mars, kim stanley robinson

this is a very long hard sci-fi novel about mars colonisation & terraforming, discussing the ethics of terraforming, the potentials of a truly ‘martian’ culture, and how capitalism will inevitably fuck everything up, including outer space. all of this is up my alley and i did really like the first half (early colonisation efforts), but the 2nd half (beginning of terraforming, lots of politicking) was a slog - i liked reading about how terraforming was going, but the rest was just bloated, scattered and confusing. also there’s a tedious love triangle the whole time. 2/5

dragon keeper (rain wild chronicles #1), robin hobb

i love robin hobb she really can write a whole 500+ page book of set-up, characterisation and politicking and make it WORK. anyway, this has disabled dragons, a quest for mystical city, lots of rain wilds weirdness, a dragon scholar in an unhappy marriage, liveships, a sweet dummy romance, and uh... a lil penpalship between two messenger bird keepers? not much happens but it’s so NICE & so much is going to happen. also althea & brashen & malta turned up & i screamed. 3.5/5

season of migration to the north, tayeb salih (tr. from arabic)

this is a seminal work of post-colonial arabic literature, a haunting tale of the impact of colonialisation, especially of cultural hegemony in the education system, the disturbing dynamics of orientalism and sex, and village life in a modernising post-colonial sudan. it’s important, it’s well-written, it’ll make you think, but fair warning, there is a lot of violence against women - it has a point but still uh... wow. 3.5/5

dune, frank herbert

SOMETIMES.... BOOKS THAT ARE CONSIDERED MASTERWORKS OF THEIR GENRE.... ARE WORSE. so much worse. the writing in this is atrocious (”his voice was charged with unspeakable adjectives”), herbert somehow manages to make court intrigue and plotting UNBELIEVABLY DULL and sure, it was the 60s, but i’m p sure people knew imperialism was bad in the 60s! the main character, the eugenically-engineered chosen one or whatever, literally spends years among the oppressed & resisting natives of a planet ruled by a space!empire and at the end he’s like ‘i own this planet bc imperialism is Good Actually’. emotionally neglecting/abusing your wife, who you (!!!) decided (!!!) to marry for political reasons bc you’d rather marry your gf is also Good Actually (cosigned by the protag’s mother....) the worldbuilding is influential for the genre, sure w/e, but mainly notable for there just.... being a lot of it, the whole mythology-science makes No Goddamn Sense, all around this is just Bad. Bad. 0.5/5 i hope the Really Big Worms eat everyone 

dragon haven (rain wild chronicles #2), robin hobb

this healed my soul after toxic exposure to dune. anyway w/o spoilers: everyone is very much In Their Feelings (including me) and there’s a lot of Romance and Internal Conflict and Feelings Drama and Complicated Relationships and Group Dynamics and also dragons, which are really like very big, very haughty cats who can speak, and a flood and a living river barge with a mind of his own (love u tarman!). it’s still slow and languid but so so good. also: several people in this have to be told that People Are Gay, Steven, including Sedric, who is himself Gay People. 4/5

an unkindness of ghosts, solomon rivers

super interesting scifi story set on a generation ship with a radically stratified society in which the predominantly black lowerdeckers are oppressed and exploited by the predominantly white upperdeckers, mixed in with a lot of Gender Stuff (the lowerdeckers seem to have a much less stable and binary gender system than the upperdeckers) and neuroatypicality. it’s conceptually rich and full of potential, but just doesn’t quite stick the landing when it comes to the plot. 3/5

sanatorium under the sign of the hourglass, bruno schulz (tr. from polish)

more dreamy surreal short stories (ish?). i didn’t like this collection quite as much as the amazing street of crocodiles, but they are still really good, even tho you never quite know what is going on. featuring flights of birds, people turning into insects, thoughts about seasons and time, fireman pupae stuck in the chimney, and the continuing weird fixation on adela the maid. 3.5/5

angela merkel ist hitlers tocher, christian alt & christian schiffer

a fun & accessible guide to conspiracy theories, focusing on the current situation in germany and the current boom in conspiracy theories, but also including some historical notes. i wish it had been a bit less fun & flippant and more in-depth and detailed bc it really is quite shallow at points, but oh well. also yes the title does indeed translate to ‘angela merkel is hitler’s daughter’ so. yes. 2.5/5

the midwich cuckoos, john wyndham

fun lil scifi story in which almost all women in sleepy village midwich are suddenly pregnant, all at the same time. the resulting children, predictably, are strange, creepy, and possibly a threat to humanity. i get that it was written in the 50s but it is strange to read a book where almost all women, and only women, are affected by A Thing, but all the main characters are men & no one tells the women ‘hey we think it’s xenogenesis’ -  like realistically 80% of women affected went to the Neighbourhood Lady Who Takes Care of These Things like ‘hello, one (1) abortion please’ and the plot just ended there. i still liked it tho! 3/5

antigone project

antigone, the original bitch, by sophocles (tr. by fagles)

god antigone really is That Bitch. that’s all i have to say. 4.5/5

antigone, That Bitch but in french, jean anouilh

the Nazi-occupied france antigone. loved the meta commentary on what tragedy is and how antigone has to step into the Role of Antigone, which will kill her “but there’s nothing she can do. her name is antigone and she will have to play her part through to the end”. i didn’t really like (esp. given the ~historical context) the choice to make creon much more sympathetic, trying to save antigone’s life from the beginning. hmm. 3.5/5

antigonick, anne carson

look, antigone really is That Bitch and you know what? so is anne carson. best thing i’ve read so far this year, don’t ask me about it or i’ll yell the task of the translator of antigone at you. 5/5

home fire, kamila shamsie

honestly i really wanted to like this bc politically it’s on point and an anti-islamophobia antigone sounds amazing, but it just doesn’t succeed as a book/adaption. it spends way too much time in build-up/backstory (the play’s plot only starts in the second half of the book!), waaayyy to much time on the weirdly fetishistic antigone/haimon romance, and even the most interesting characters (ismene & creon) don’t fully work out. sad. 2/5

currently reading: the magic mountain by thomas mann, but i should be done in a week or so! also: the paper menagerie by ken liu, a collection of sff short stories

[melanoradrood]

WIP Wednesday #1

So I’m working on a four different AU’s right now, and I’m not sure which one I plan on turning into a big fic first. TWO of them have the opening part written ( and I plan on writing the other two as well ) and then I’ll choose which one to start on next!

Here’s the opening to bodyguard!Cassian:

“Papa, I don’t need a bodyguard.”

Jyn has already said it at least fifteen times, but she’ll keep saying it until he listens. Yes, she understands that there’s a threat against her, but honestly, she’s more concerned about the creep in the Biology lab she teaches on Thursdays than Orson Krennic.

“Please, listen to me, Stardust. I know you can take care of yourself, but it would give me peace of mind.”

She’s giving her father a long glare, one that says that she’s not budging, and the look she gets back is practically a mirror. After all, she learned be stubborn from her Papa, refusing to budge even an inch.

Someone has to move eventually, and she already knows he’s going to pull the card, because he lets out a sigh, runs his hand into his greying hair, and looks away, like he’s lost to another time, lost in thought, lost to his memories. “Your mother, she would know what to say. We both always want the best for you, Jyn. I know that you can protect yourself, but this is something serious. He wants me to resign, and he’s willing to threaten you to get it.”

She knows that the bill is important to her father, that passing clean energy is his life’s goal, and that he won’t back down from Orson Krennic, his former close friend and former supporter. She also knows that she won’t let her father resign from the Senate, because he’s one of the few politicians that isn’t corrupt, that believes in their cause, that doesn’t have anyone feeding their pockets.

The only person that had been doing that was Krennic, and as soon as her father realized what was going on the Clean Energy Act was born. Blackmail had begun almost immediately, but her father, always the honest one, had opened up all of his secrets, about his wife, about his friendship with Saw Gerrera, about his former friendship with Orson Krennic, and how he had once accepted money, not realizing what it was tied to.

People loved him for his honesty, spoke of him running for Vice President, or even President. And now, Jyn was the one being threatened, threatened to get him to step down, to step aside, to let the bill die.

“Does it really mean that much do you?” she says with a sigh, and her father looks up, eyes a little hopeful. Jyn knows that he wouldn’t speak about her mother unless he was worried, truly worried.

“Oh, Jyn… You do not know how much I worry for your safety. If anything were to happen to you-”

“Only until the bill is passed,” she says, and she’s raising a hand towards her father, finger pointing, making certain that he listens to her. “And I’m still refusing Secret Service protection if you become President.”

Her father wouldn’t run for president, refused to run, but as an Independent, it seemed as though both parties wanted him on their ballot… He was strictly against, but Jyn knew that they wanted him for a good reason - her father, for all of his awkwardness, lack of public speaking abilities, and general anxieties, was a good man. He couldn’t be bought, believed in protecting people and the planet, and was all in all the only decent human being in the capital.

Her father was going to be President one day, but that didn’t mean her life had to change.

“Just until the threat is gone,” he responds. It’s not complete agreement, but if it would keep him from worrying…

“There’s a huge fucking problem with this guy,” Jyn hisses into the phone, and she can hear Bodhi snorting on the other end of the line.

“What is it? Your father and the President handpicked him. He’s one of the best Special Operatives they have, is young enough that he can blend in as a TA or even a late student, and he’s easy on the eyes.”

Jyn nearly threw her phone in response, and she should have just taken Bodhi coffee and donuts before she yelled at her father’s Aide, but now she’s stuck sitting in her office on the other side of the city with a very very very attractive man in a suit standing on the other side of the door she just slammed.

“Dammit, Bo, that’s the problem. I agreed to a bodyguard, not someone from the Secret Service.”

“Jyn, you should be honored that the President is allowing you protection. That like… never happens. You have to literally be someone important.”

She knew what Bo meant, because she said it herself, that she was just a Senator’s daughter, not important, but it kind of stung in the moment… And yes, she knew that this was a big deal, but it was just Krennic throwing around baseless threats. She had seen the man drunk on a Tuesday on her father’s couch from drinking too much Smirnoff. She wasn’t scared of Orson Krennic.

“Yes, and in that suit, he sticks out like a sore thumb,” she hisses into the phone. Not to mention how attractive he was… all eyes would be on Jyn and the guy that followed her around.

“Then take him shopping, put him in new clothes. He’s fresh out the military, was accepted into the CIA and the FBI as well, and he’s… well, Jyn, I think he may have killed more men than you.”

Jyn rolled her eyes, because the only men she killed were when she was practicing her self defense - or killing them with rejection at a bar - but now, she maybe did want to see this guy’s resume - Only not, because she wasn’t keeping him.

“Send someone else, Bo.”

“Don’t make me put your father on the phone.”

For two seconds, Jyn was no longer 25 years old with two BSs and a MS, working on her PhD. She felt like an eight year old, with a Nanny, because her mother was dead, and her father worked too much.

“... God dammit, Bodhi. I don’t have time to deal with this.”

“I know, but you have to deal with it all the same,” Bodhi half sings to her, and honestly, she’s going to kill him next.

“Hate you.”

“I love you too, Jynnie. See you Friday night?”

She scoffs, because she doesn’t want to do drinks with her father’s aide, his boyfriend, the boyfriend’s sister, and her new bodyguard. “Only if I can ditch the suit.”

“Don’t you dare-”

Jyn hangs up the phone and lets out a sigh before she finally stands up from her desk, heading to the door. When she opens it, she’s greeted by the same face, eyebrows raised, hands on his hips. He looks too damn good in that suit for it to be legal.

[fae-fucker]

Zenith: Chapter 11-12

Aka the last of the preview bits! 

After this post, we’re in completely new territory.

Are you excited? I’m excited.

Chapter 11

We’re introduced to a woman named Nor Solis, who is the queen of Xen Ptera, the planet that’s, like, super shitty.

It used to be a beautiful “kingdom” (well, it’s a planet, but go on), but now it’s all gone to shit because their varillium mines ran out of juice. We’re talking constant earthquakes and acid rain and all that jazz, which makes me wonder how the population survives and why they don’t just move somewhere else, but I guess we’ll find out.

Actually, with the new addition to the ahem ... “lore,” and I use that term loosely, we find out that once their varillium ran out, Nor’s father had turned to the other systems for help, and they all refused to “offer enough,” which then lead to a war that was so hardcore that it’s now called the “Cataclysm” and which apparently fucked up the ecosystem and atmosphere of the entire planet.

The wording also implies that once they were out of varillium, the people literally started starving and disease started spreading easier. Did ... did they eat the varillium? How the fuck did they survive before the discovery of varillium? I can see their trade and status in the galaxy suffering massively, but why did their people start dying?

Literally all of this sounds like complete and utter nonsense. 

Flowers ceased to bloom, and real water was now a dream as artificial water tablets took its place.

Artificial ... water ...... tablets ....

I don’t .... I don’t think that’s how that works .......

As Nor is angsting about how terrible things are, some cyborg girl comes in to disturb her.

A girl in the doorway was half Xen Pterran, with smooth, tanned skin, and half metal parts, a whirring gear where her heart should be. A wonderful find, the girl, plucked from the streets of a collapsing sector of this damned city.

A cyborg girl stood in the doorway, patches of metal spiraling across her burned skin, a whirring gear where her heart should be. She was one of the few who had been saved from radiation exposure even after it had done its damage.

Why is their race of people named after their planet like it’s a country?

I mean ... I guess you could call a human an earthling but not without looking like an actual alien.

Update: As you can see, this has been edited, along with the color of her skin. Also I don’t think you can be saved from radiation exposure if your entire planet is radioactive, especially not after it’s done its damage, because once that’s happened, everything is radioactive. Which, on top of the radioactive soil ... They’re all like, double radioactive at this point. I don’t even know what the word means I’ve used it so much. 

Nor flips her shit that this servant did what servants are supposed to do and entered her quarters.

Nor had always loved the sound of her own voice  -- powerful, yet pure all at once. A voice that brought even the strongest, bravest men to their knees. A voice that could make heads roll, should anyone speak a word against her.

More SJM influences, I see. Is this our BIG BAD BITCH?

Watch as Andi and Nor are described exactly the same way but Andi is arbitrarily better because Shinsay says so.

Seriously, switch out “Nor” for “Andi” and that sentence could’ve been more wank about how great and badass Andi is.

Nor cast a glance backwards. The sharp, spiked collar of her midnight gown stabbed at her throat, but she relished the pain.

It reminded her of the pain she would soon inflict.

What?

She’s wearing a collar? Is this supposed to show how weird and kinky and evil she is? I don’t mind that, kinky people are literally the fucking devil, but it’s still pretty weird.

Update: This has been removed and I am deeply disappointed.

But it’s okay, Shinsay. You may have removed my favorite bits now, but I have another 80+ chapters to comb through, and this time, you can’t edit shit.

Whatever. Nor goes to the person who called for her.

“You think so highly of yourself, Darai, that you summon me to your quarters?” Nor hissed.

Why’d you come then, you fucking idiot?

1) Darai is implied to be below her in rank (he’s her advisor), so the fact that he even did this in the first place makes no sense.

2) If you think you’re superior to him, and you are, why the fuck did you come when he summoned you?

3) Why couldn’t he just like ... send her a message? This is the future, yes? Why didn’t he just do the hologram thing like they do in the Avengers? It turns out that he doesn’t even have to show her anything, just tell her something, so this makes no fucking sense.

4) It also turns out that he’s delivering some pretty important info, which makes me wonder why the person didn’t just notify Nor directly instead of going through her advisor.

5) Couldn’t the servant girl deliver this message, if they’re so technologically impaired?

Does Shinsay not know of any other ways to show how eeeeevil Nor is?

We find out that something that Nor’s been waiting for for months now is in its final stages of development.

Superweapon? Superweapon.

Update: It’s now outright stated to be a weapon.

[...] “Then we should prepare ourselves at once.”

Darai stood from his desk, his long robes sweeping behind him like a curtain. “Highness Nor, if I may suggest…”

“Speak now, Darai Uncle, before I grow tired of you.”

If you want him to speak, why’d you fucking interrupt him you dumbass?

I dunno why they made Darai her uncle (though they’re not related by blood), since it didn’t change their interaction at all, but ok.

Darai tells her that timing is important and that they must wait until all pieces fall into place before making their move. Very ominous.

Nor out-edges him, though.

“The final piece is already in place,” Nor said, with a wave of her metal gold prosthetic hand. 

Seeing it only reminded her of the past. The explosions. The loss. The need for revenge that empowered her.

The past was what fueled her present.

[...]

“When we bring the galaxy to its knees,” Nor said, a smile slowly appearing onto her rouged lips, “I’d like to repaint this room. Perhaps, With the blood of every man, woman, and child who has ever lifted a finger against my planet.”

[...]

“Majesty. My dear” His voice was slippery, as if drenched in oil. “When we bring the galaxy to its knees, you can paint the entire palace in blood, if you wish it.”

Nor closed her eyes, and smiled.

She could see it, taste it.

And it pleased her.

Christ.

“The past was what fueled her present” is actually a pretty decent line, though I would suggest changing “was what” to “that” to make it smoother and fit with the line before it. 

I know Nor is supposed to be super evil and all that, but does she genuinely think that children have personally done something to hurt her planet? The war was fifteen years ago. Depending on how we define “children,” most were probably born after it already ended. 

Chapter 12

Andi is sulking around while the Marauder is being prepared for their mission.

Breck asks how Andi knows the general won’t betray them once they’ve delivered Valen, and Andi says that he made the Arcardian Vow, which is significant because:

The Arcardian Vow was as binding as two souls becoming one.

What does that ... mean?

No? All right. Who cares, I guess.

Andi angsts some more about how even if she wanted to return to Arcardius, it would never be the same and bla bla bla. 

Traveling to Olen had become a fool’s journey ever since The Cataclysm ended. There was still the peace treaty in place, preventing the massive Olen System, with its capital planet of Xen Ptera, from attacking the other Unified Systems of Mirabel. But those living in the Olen System weren’t exactly friendly with the Unified Systems.

You’re telling me ... that this system, whose capital planet is dead and whose people are starving and radioactive, is an active threat? 

I would’ve understood it if they had superweapons they could threaten people with and it was a North Korea type situation, but they’ve been specified to have nothing, and even if they do have secret weapons, the other systems aren’t aware of them, so logically, they should’ve just forgotten about them all and left them to rot.

Also, who cares if they’re not friendly with the Unified Systems? You’re pirates, specifically chosen because you’re not associated with the Unified Systems. On top of that, presumably you’ll be trying to sneak in anyway, so what’s the fucking dealio?

Gilly expresses skepticism about their odds and Andi’s response is:

“We can’t think of it like that. If we do, we’ll end up overthinking every move we make. It’s just another job. A grab and go.”

Yes, Andi. Overthinking. That’s definitely y’all’s biggest problem right now.

Gilly and Breck fuck off to check the new weapons. 

Lira stayed remained behind, watching Andi with those all-seeing Adhiran eyes. They’d been together the longest, shared countless stories over bottles of Cosmic Cram until their eyes became as glassy as the stars.

What does that even mean?

And can we stop reminding the audience of how DIFFERENT and ALIEN Lira is?

She’s Adhiran. We got it the first time you mentioned it. Trust me.

Lira says that she can tell Andi isn’t feeling great, and it’s “clear as varillium.”

I get it, Shinsay. You invented some indestructible glass for your cool space book. Can you stop mentioning it every five fucking seconds now? 

“I’m just in shock. Seeing Dex again after I thought he was gone for good...I stuck a knife through him, Lira. And now he’s come back to haunt me.”

If you stuck a knife through him, it kind of implies you were 100% done with the guy. You know, considering you tried to KILL HIM. I get being surprised that he survived (except I don’t, you didn’t even stay to make sure he was dead so of course there was a chance he’d survive you absolute moron), but this comes off as Andi not being over her ex, which is exactly what it is and it makes no goddamn sense.

Look at this ruthless murderer losing her cool because her cute ex-boyfriend is back and she still has fee-fees for him even though he’s a bad, bad boy!

Update: This has been changed to Andi just telling Lira that she needs time alone.

For once, she wasn’t positive what the next step would be, besides rescuing the general’s son. Beyond that was an expanse of complete uncertainty.

A death sentence pardoned. An entire planet waiting for her . But after all that had transpired and with the wounds she still held inside...could she ever really return?

So Andi doesn’t know what the next step would be, but is already planning her return to Arcardius? I don’t think rescuing the general’s son will be as easy as you make it sound, pumpkin.

I love how it says “for once,” as if Andi usually knows what to do at all times, right after we watched them do nothing but get defeated and captured for the first ten chapters.

Andi angsts and has some more flashbacks to when she was younger and wishes she’d just become a soldier like her father instead of a fancy Spectre:

Her earliest memories of their time together were of training days, bruised fists and bloodied knuckles.

I feel like bruised firsts and bloodied knuckles are essentially the same thing, but alright.

We find out that Andi had a TEMPER in school, because what’s a badass female character without anger issues (because emotions are the only acceptable motivations for a female character’s violence, you see), and that her parents put her in dance classes as a way to combat that (wut), and that’s how she met and befriended Kalee, and also why she was chosen to be her Spectre.

Alfie approaches Andi for no reason.

The android AI’s body was see-through, like the Marauder’s walls, and Andi could see all the gears and wires inside its body from head to toe, clicking and whirring silently, like an old-era clock.

1) How can it click silently? A click is a specific type of sound. Who edited this?

2) “Old-era?” That’s awfully specific. Too much worldbuilding! Tone it down!

3) What’s the point of making an android that doesn’t look human? 

Ah, so now they’ve removed the android thing, and it’s just an “AI” this time.

Anyway, apparently AIs were briefly banned because that’s what Xen Pterra used in their army, but now they’re back. Woo!

“Oh, I see you’ve met Alfie,” [Dex] said, looking between the two of them.

“Alfie?” Andi asked, confused by the name.

“It stands for Artificial Lifeform and I added the “ie” to make it less boring.”

“It stands for Artificial Lifeform Intelligence Emissary ,” the AI said, staring at Andi with those strange eyes. “But you may call me Alfie.”

And more stupid? They fixed it. 

And thanks for clarifying she was confused by the name, the context clues were just too subtle to pick up on!

[...] [Andi] turned around and sat back into her chair.

Dex crouched down next to her, lips level with her ear. “You know, you were a lot more fun three years ago.”

Is her chair embedded in the floor if he has to crouch to get their heads at the same level? Great visual.

Update, I can’t find the chair bit, but Andi is still sitting down and Dex is still crouching, so uh. Ya didn’t fix this one, Shinsay.

Andi gets all flustered when Dex is near her, and remembers the scar she gave him when she stole his ship.

Tenebran Guardians were known for taking pride in their battle marks, but the scar she gave him—whether it still existed or not—was not one he should be proud of.

“Whether it still existed or not?” Meaning you people do have technology that repairs skin? 

WHY IS ANDI STILL WEARING HER STUPID CUFFS THEN?!

What she also noticed was how her heart no longer fluttered like it used to when he looked at her. Her heart, the traitorous thing, fluttered for a moment like it used to when he looked at her. She used to love his eyes, their unspoken words. The feel of his skin against hers during their passionate nights,. but 

Now those thoughts made her cringe.

Oh sure. Of course. That’s why you think about how handsome he is and about all those passionate nights you had before. And why you’re worried that he’s back. Because you’re toooooohhhtahhhllly over him!! Makes sense.

You’re fooling nobody, Shinsay.

Update: Well, at least they’re a bit more honest this time. 

Dex says how it’s good to be back on his ship, to which Alfie responds that his records say that the ship belongs to Androma.

Which ... makes no sense. Alfie is the general’s assistant, meaning his records are most likely official documents. Andi stole the ship. Dex never transferred ownership of the Marauder to her. It should still belong to him.

Anyway, this doesn’t matter because it’s only there so Andi can have the last laugh, to which Dex doesn’t even react, so I don’t even know why this was changed.

Dex.

Even his name was poison in her mind.

Don’t you mean a blade of poison in her heart?

In a different time At another time in her life, Andi would’ve felt guilty for her coldness toward him. But that time was long gone.

“Felt guilty?!?!?!?” YOU TRIED TO KILL HIM!!!

ONCE YOU REACH THAT POINT, YOU’RE KINDA PAST GUILT AND REGRET, NO?!

Remember, she’s supposed to be hating him now, so the fact that she’s even considering guilt make no goddamn sense. She didn’t feel bad about killing him, she’s feeling bad that he’s back and she still wants to ride that space dick.

Or is she?

GOD I CAN’T EVEN TELL WHAT THE CHARACTERS ARE FEELING OR WHY.

Now she was made of ice, too afraid full of anger to get close to him again, for fear that he’d melt her all over again from the inside out.

SEE?!

I FUCKING TOLD YOU SHE’S STILL NOT OVER HIM!!

Update: They fixed this too. Why didn’t you hire me as your editor if you’re gonna use my comments to make your book better, Shinsay?

He’d betrayed her, and so she’d betrayed him.

One shredded heart for another.

1) Edgy.

2) Can you ... just ... pick one. Do you hate him and feel no guilt or are you feeling sad and still want him?

And I know what you’ll say: “Oh but Eff, she could be feeling confused and conflicted!”

THIS ISN’T CONFUSED AND CONFLICTED. SHE COULD BE FEELING CONFUSED AND CONFLICTED AND I WOULD’VE THOUGHT IT MADE SENSE BECAUSE IT WOULD MAKE SENSE. RIGHT NOW, SHE’S HAMMERING ON ABOUT HOW OVER HIM SHE IS AND HOW SHE FEELS NO GUILT IN ONE SENTENCE, AND IN THE NEXT, SHE’S LUSTING OVER HIM AND TELLING US HOW SHE’S AFRAID TO FALL IN LOVE WITH HIM AGAIN.

AND WE’RE SUPPOSED TO BELIEVE THAT BOTH OF THESE FEELINGS ARE ONE AND THE SAME AND SOMEHOW MAKE SENSE TOGETHER.

I’m ... I’m tired.

Hearts were pathetic things, too easily broken. The Bloody Baroness couldn’t afford such a weakness. Especially not now that Dex was back at her side.

Edgy.

She’s still afraid she’ll fall in love again.

There would be another tally added soon, accompanying the others on her blades.

It had Dex’s name written all over it.

And now she wants to kill him again.