#Like your in-game minority group is harming actual minority groups by existing

[starscreamingg]

Okay to respond to most of the replies on this post- I do get where you're coming from, androids are treated poorly in the game because they're an analogy for people of colour, the androids themselves don't deserve poor treatment just because they were put in a position of having to take a job that could've gone to a human.

I actually do think it could've been a decent way to get people who don't get involved with overt political discussion thinking about underprivileged people and the ways in which society has and continues to harm them. Like give the people something to latch onto (personable robots) and then go "hey you know who ELSE has been historically treated like this—"

Like that's. That's fine.

My point is that. Uh. I don't think making the androids an analogy for people of colour is a particularly good idea.

Okay let me get incomprehensible- within the real world the replacement of human workers with automated labour can and does fuck over actual people (some quick corroboration)

So we're shown in the game that androids are functionally automated labour built and inserted into industries for the explicit purpose of replacing human beings, which is an actual thing that actually happens.

And the game showcases that nothing has been done to stop employers (or cyberlife itself) from implementing them EVERYWHERE, which causes dbh's unemployment epidemic.And therein lies my problem.

The narrative comparing androids to people of colour (especially black people during the civil rights movement) and villainizing the unemployed humans by making them hyper-violent zealots (see- Markus' opening section for some of the most overt examples) is SUPER WEIRD TO ME because unlike actual people of colour the androids ARE functionally replacing jobs. They're being inserted into the workforce by corporations who have allowed the United States unemployment rate to rise to 37.4% but the game VERY ADAMANTLY STATES that the problem here is the unemployed who are violent. To the androids.

You see what I'm saying here? Like why did they write it like that? Like in real life labour being automated to this degree would be a PROBLEM. Wanting the androids universally decommissioned irl is such a reasonable point if you look at them as robots replacing the workforce without any limitations, which. They are.

And like, the game could've been sympathetic to the androids AND people fucked over by their implementation but it REFUSES to reckon with the actual problems (the corporations allowing this to happen, the lack of regulations on androids) in favour of going "humans bad for treating androids unfairly because the androids are equivalent to black people fighting for their rights."Like that's WEIRD, right???

Detroit Become Human and why does this game decide that the problem in society is individual people treating androids poorly because those androids are choking them out of the workforce and NOT the corporations and governments who deliberately designed the androids to do this

[thefinalwitness]

in general if your response to a certain type of character, especially any form of minority, is literally any variation whatsoever of "that doesn't exist/wouldn't be allowed in this setting" you're being a bigoted piece of shit. just to be super clear. and because my adderall is in full effect rn i will even do you the favor of going over some reasons why your reasoning is not only flawed and inaccurate to begin with, but extremely harmful to entire groups of people you claim to care about.

"that doesn't exist" first of all, who fucking cares if a piece of media has never depicted a lesbian or a nonbinary person or a black person in xyz region/world? just because the creators didn't do it doesn't make it Canonical Law. also, regardless of how fantastical and fictional a setting is, its audience will ALWAYS be from planet earth where lesbians and nonbinary people and black people exist, and those people's feelings and their deservingness to see and put themselves in their favorite stories IS, in fact, more important than some white-ass cishet make believe world.

"it wouldn't be allowed" subtler issue, but an issue nonetheless. just because the setting is hostile TO certain groups of people does not mean those people do not exist there. ask yourself, what is so important to you about certain kinds of people either not existing period, or having to be miserable (closet themselves, conceal certain features, etc), in a given setting. why is that so important to you. why do you think these people can only exist if they hate themselves and/or live their lives suffocated by the world around them. why is it so "lore incompliant" or "immersion breaking" to you. why are you so concerned with upholding real or perceived prejudices in a fictional society if you claim to care about the real people who these prejudices affect. "realism"? see point one.

NONE of the reasons you make up to justify your reinforcement of real world bigotry in a pretend world are even reasons that would ACTUALLY bar xyz group of people from existing in said world. ishgard only shut its gates to the rest of the world for 15 years before ARR. old sharlayan accepted people from tural into its closed society. the ancients could literally conjure up whatever the fuck they wanted inside and outside their bodies. fantasias are a canonical item in the game, as per the quest that literally talks about them and then gives you one. there are HUNDREDS of perfectly lore compliant ways any given type of person could be in any given setting. but more importantly, people shouldn't need to justify why things like sexuality or skin color CAN exist in a given setting, because if you're not harboring some very bigoted ideas about how minorities are allowed to or "supposed" to exist, you don't fucking care about shit like this. it's stupid, inaccurate, and most of all, just plain cruel to the very real people behind these characters.

racism, transphobia, etc already exist in staggering abundance in the real world; you do not need to enforce that cruelty in a random fucking video game unless you have some very fucked up feelings about those groups of people festering in your brain. if you're not a member of those groups, shame on you, do better to support your fellow human beings. if you ARE a member of those groups, i am so fucking sorry the world has rotted your sense of self so deeply as to make you believe you can only exist in misery. i really, sincerely hope you're able to work through that and know that your existence is an inherently joyful, beautiful thing, and people like you deserve to get to exist peacefully, everywhere in the real world and in any and all fictional settings. i know finding worth in ourselves is too often an extremely difficult process, so i ask instead that you start with others like you. be kind to them, support them, find things about them that you admire, and try to see yourself in them. you deserve to get to heal from the insidious, evil things this world has poisoned your heart with.

[aplpaca]

why is having your ocs be your special interest unfortunate? please tell us about them!! (curious, friendly tone)

It's unfortunate bc theres not content for them that exist without my own effort 😔(outside of a couple friends) so i cant reblog posts about them like i would for like critical role or something. ive got a variety of "main character" ocs and most of them started out as ttrpg characters that then got their own non-rpg "canon" in a story universe im making with some friends that may or may not end up turning into a series of books. (overarching "plot" of it is that the birth of a new deity ends up connecting people and politics of several planets in different universes)

so like my "main" characters for that are vyma, claysen, and yianni. vyma also has an equally canon ttrpg incarnation for a game thats still ongoing, but claysen and yianni started out as ttrpg characters but now their "canon" is just their storyverse incarnations. i put actual character descriptions under the cut

ima talk about vyma's storyverse incarnation for this, since theres Spoilers for her ttrpg canon that players who follow me dont know yet (but like, the core personality is the same between the two so yeah). but anyway, her full name in storyverse is Vyma Bapp-Matieyepa sip-Sabapak, which is kinda long bc cultural naming conventions include familial last name, chosen/official clan affiliation, and familal-but-not-official clan affiliation (if someone has that). She's one of the unofficial leaders of a revolutionary/resistance group (other leader is one of @cosmemery's characters Naki) that funnels political prisoners to freedom and tries to counteract the imperialism of the country that subjugated theirs and the harm from their own gov that tries to meet the imperialists in the middle. Vyma is pretty tall, pretty butch, and pretty ace. She's got lowkey disabling hyperempathy, but this gets paired with an autistic flat affect that makes her come across unintentionally blunt, monotone, and insensitive at times. she's kinda overcompensated for social issues by using her hyperempathy and just general problem solving to get really fucking good at reading people/figuring out how people are feeling. this unfortunately does not make her any more conversationally adept, and in some cases makes her kinda preachy instead. her flight response (like the trauma response, not just the general fight or flight) is through the fucking roof and she would and prob will grind herself into dust in an attempt to make what she considers a positive impact. she's chronically sleep deprived and refuses to talk about her feelings in a way thats not dodging the question. she likes to bake, but hasnt been able to in a while.

Claysen Hishari (birthname Jarren Claysen Vidravalsh) is like lowkey highkey kinda of A Lot in terms of stuff he's got going on. id like to think i do a decent job not being Edgy (TM) with him but like,,yeah. He's a formal noble who escaped his shitty dad after his mom died and ended up being blackmailed into becoming a spy/assassin. He also technically has emotion/identity-influenced magical power equivalent to at least a minor god, but hes repressing that and its only almost killed him once. His appearance is altered via illusion magic almost constantly. He's more visibly autistic and uses a trade sign language to talk fairly frequently. When he's not signing, he has a very specific speech pattern, and often pauses in the middle of sentences while he figures out how to make words work. At the start of the story, he basically hasn't had goals or ambitions or strong personal convictions for A While, and a lot of his growth is Growing A Fucking Spine and Learning To Act On Things. A lot of his other growth is self acceptance stuff (both autism and the whole emotionally volatile magic thing bc por que no los dos). He has a pretty fuckin codependant relationship with @cosmemery's character Kay, and even before they actually become romantic, theyre platonically flirty with each other to a kinda obnoxious degree. hes bi, super reserved but has a certain air of competence/force of presence to him despite that, and has a special interest in spiders and bugs in general

And apparently tumblr has a word limit for asks or somthing bc it wont let me add my last characters paragraph onto this so im gonna just reblog it with yianni's stuff in a sec

[fertilize-my-eggs]

I'll be honest, if you don't like my content or dead dove that's fine, you don't have to follow me or enjoy my cringe problematic fanfics. That is your valid opinion. You should respect me as a human being to write these silly dark fanfics, dead dove writer/artist don't do it or don't actually get fantasies over real people, we don't need to explain to others.

People need to understand that there are victims like myself who enjoy writing as a way to escape from trauma and escape from past experience.

We don't need to explain it and don't need to tell you antis to stop harassing us for just writing darkfics or draw problematic taboo.

By your logic that means you think every shows/movies like game of thrones, south park, big mouth, Hannibal, GTA and many manyyyy problematic tropes in that and by your logic is that you think the creators are like that, I get it there some scummy creeps who have done show/movies.

But stop actually putting all of us in groups together there are serious issues happening in the real world and you're worried about a fictional character getting noncon by other fictional characters that don't exist.

But you should be worried about war that happens right now, people are dying from a war and you're concerned about a fictional minor getting sexualized by fan artists.

You're whining about dead dove fanfic when you could of blocked it and move on, there people who are maps and zoophiles who open on here and you're worried about a proshipper shipping two fictional characters that don't exist in our world.

" what if people get off at it and want to go do harmful things towards people irl?? " Then they have mental problems and should get medical health for that because people like that should be sent to the doctor, people like that are wanting to commit a crime. Some of these people aren't into fanfic, a good simple edp445.

That man is a fan of the sports game and ended up being a pedophile for talking to children online and this man thinks lolis are bad, he thinks it's gross and there people say:" he's one of the good ones. " Or " at least he has morals. " Dude what? That man doesn't care and still thinks he didn't do anything wrong and got caught talking to CHILDREN THREE TIMES WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE ONE OF THE GOOD ONE?? EDP isn't an anime fan, he's 40s man sliding into a children's DM and he thinks they're women... How can people look at 13-17yos and think they're mature enough or are adults.

I know there are always bad people in every fandom and people should call out the one who want csem or constantly talking about it because they're predators asking that.

Pedophiles are only interested in children and go after children not fictional characters, not a fictional minors.

They'll look for it for years because I had men like that when I was teenager on the Internet, I know and I see it. I was groomed and I still regret it every single day and that I wish I didn't get a phone back then.

[peantisdeliriouts]

So… your proof that this is all true is a screenshot of two different proshippers who were getting their asses beat in the comments for supporting a fascist?…

Two can play at this game though, as I myself have never seen a group more willing to harm and doxx others than antis. There are thousands of screenshots and dozens of documents out there displaying common behaviours of anti shippers which include but are not limited to rape threats, victim blaming, ableism, sexism, racism, homophobia, and transphobia.

This isn’t a one-sided issue, both sides of the discourse have loud minorities that enjoy harming others for their own sense of justice or amusement. I’ve seen MORE antis pushing for censorship and fucking BOOK BURNING than I have ever seen in proshippers. Obviously being proship or antiship isn’t a rag or green flag by itself, but I am frankly more willing to side with the people who don’t want to burn books as opposed to the supposed “”progressive” antis who do.

It’s absolutely hilarious that you’re so deep in denial about antis being the ones to push for censorship. There are definitely proshippers who just want to be able to draw what they want and they don’t actually care about censorship, but that’s not exactly common.

Seriously, you have no clue what you’re on about here. Shitty people existing within every group doesn’t make that group as a whole bad. The entire idea that people who don’t want media censored are actually fascists in disguise who secretly wanna be able to push racism or bigotry without consequences is right wing conspiracy territory.

Like no shit fascists are calculated and lie about their intentions, but if you genuinely are out here thinking proshippers side with fascists because some of them happen to be conservative or republican, you’re insane. Just as insane as people who claim antis are a cult like that would even be possible.

Saw a proshipper repost something about how people who voted for Trump are "still welcome uwu" and that "they're safe and sound here"

And like I just gotta say with the amount of predators coming from conservative spaces and proship spaces I'm not surprised... They have something to bond over it seems.

"I'm anti-censorship" oh you mean the same bullshit excuse that fascists who want to call for the murder of marginalized persons use. Obviously it was never about your fucking fanfiction you want to make bigoted content to propagandize your fascist views.

This is why I fucking despise the proship community and even though I'm anti-harassment and don't give a shit about what others do in their own spare time and don't force on others I will NEVER be proship. Sorry but me being POC means I can't be proship unless I just let crackers walk all over me and then beat me up for being otherwise marginalized.

[adobe-outdesign]

Pokemon Worldbuilding Headcanons

Exactly what it says in the title. Some are based on the game, some on the anime, and some directly contradict both because the Pokemon lore is made up and your feelings don’t matter.

Biology

Pokemon heal faster when unconscious or asleep--thus, they faint easily from pain or exhaustion in order to recuperate.

During evolution, a Pokemon converts itself into energy and reforms itself. Evolution is optional, and a Pokemon can choose if and when it evolves. Evolution is triggered by both an environmental circumstance (ex: winning a battle), and by the Pokemon storing up energy over time until it has enough to transform.

Stress evolutions are when a Pokemon evolves prematurally in order to win a battle or when they’re in a life-or-death situation. This can result in the evolution being smaller than normal and possibly weaker as well.

“Trade evolutions” are a loose grouping of Pokemon that typically evolve when they start working with a new trainer. The exact reasons for the evolution varies by individual, and therefore can have multiple causes.

Ex: a Pokemon may evolve after it learns something from someone else. While the easiest way to achieve this is through trade, they may also evolve by training under a wiser, older Pokemon.

Trade evolutions are somewhat rare in the wild, but not unheard of.

Pokemon that evolve via stones cannot store enough energy to evolve naturally. The stones contain extra energy that they can tap into in order to aid in evolution.

Everstones work similar to sponges; they absorb the extra energy a Pokemon would normally store up to evolve, thus preventing them from doing so. They’re mostly used for medical purposes (as a Pokemon evolving when badly injured could worsen its injuries) and to help prevent stress evolutions in Pokemon that don’t want to evolve.

Pokemon types are based on the type of energy they utilize, rather than moves or appearance. Ex: Charizard is not dragon-type despite looking like a dragon because it doesn’t use dragon-type energy. New energies are discovered all the time and Pokemon are reclassified as needed.

Pokemon typing also changes as they (Darwinian) evolve. A Pokemon that’s normal/grass used to be normal-type, has started to gain grass-typing, and will eventually be only grass-type.

Humans are descended from Pokemon. They used to be psychic-type before becoming normal-type and then losing their typing all together. At this point they no longer are energy-based nor do they lay eggs, so they’re considered a separate-but-related family.

This is why some people still show psychic powers; those abilities never completely went away in some bloodlines.

Pokemon have been domesticated for so long that there’s actually no such thing as a “wild” Pokemon anymore (with the exception of legendaries). Wild Pokemon are technically feral, and any given Pokemon will quickly adapt to living with humans if caught.

Pokemon used to look different hundreds of years ago, and have slowly undergone Darwinian evolution over time as they were domesticated.

“Most trainers will legendaries shortly after their journey starts” statistic false. Most trainers will see no legendaries in their lifetimes. Ash Ketchum, who’s seen every single legendary in existence, is an outlier and should not be counted

However, areas where legendaries are known to live are oftentimes marked as no-catch conservation areas. People will oftentime travel to these parks to admire “common” legendaries (such as the bird trio) in their natural habitats.

Battles

Not knocking out a Pokemon you’re trying to capture is more of a honored rule than a law. The reason it’s done is to give the Pokemon ample time to flee--otherwise, someone may one-shot a Pokemon that doesn’t want a trainer, resulting in the Pokemon being unfairly knocked out and the trainer wasting their time.

If you give the Pokemon time to flee and it chooses to stay and fight, it’s potentially interested in accepting you as a trainer and you just have to prove yourself. If it flees, you should leave it alone.

Pokemon used for battles are specifically trained to not cause permanent harm or injury to their opponents (ex: that fire blast isn’t as hot as it could be, so it’ll only cause minor burns instead of third-degree ones). While the attacks used might look violent and cause some pain, serious injuries are very rare.

Wild Pokemon are also pretty good at restraining themselves if they’re just battling for fun or to test a trainer. They will not, however, restrain themselves if they feel threatened or are hunting. Trainers are advised to use caution when fighting wild Pokemon and return their Pokemon to their balls if necessary.

Psychic-types (Mr. Mime especially) are used to create protective barriers around arenas/trainers to protect people from flying debris and stray attacks.

Refs always have a few Pokemon on hand that know moves like stun spore or sleep powder in order to stop any fights that get out of hand.

Pokeballs

While some trainers different Pokemon by using different types of Pokeballs, decorating them is also a popular way to do it. Some people draw symbols or initials on the buttons, some add stickers, some paint them, ect.

Stores also sell semi-transparent hard shells that snap over the balls. These come in different colors and designs, so you can have a Pokeball that has a galaxy design on top instead of plain red if you want.

Most trainers keep about 40 some Pokemon or less, which they rotate between their party, the PC, and daycares/Pokemon sitters to keep them enriched and active. Some people keep more, but they generally spend all of their time caring for them and therefore aren’t trainers.

The general rule of thumb is to not leave a Pokemon in the PC for more than two weeks. If you fail to take them out after a month, they will be automatically removed and released back into the wild.

Pokeballs create little miniature simulations of nature, making them feel bigger on the inside. Different types of pokeballs have different or more advanced simulations, which may increase how much a Pokemon likes being in it.

Pokeballs create an invisible “tag” for the Pokemon by altering their energy when they’re first caught. These tags affect nothing, but Pokeballs are programmed to automatically check for one before they’ll activate.

Many poachers and other illegal groups produce their own illegal Pokeballs that do not check for tags before capture.

If a Pokeball breaks, it automatically releases the Pokemon inside and removes their tag.

Tags fade after about a month to allow for other trainers to capture a Pokemon after it’s been permanently released. The tag is automatically refreshed every time a Pokemon is brought back into its ball.

The standard Pokeball pattern is based off of the patterns of the Foongus line. Pokemon are very attracted to their markings, so the balls are painted the same to make the Pokemon like them more.

Eggs

Rather than combining genetics, Pokemon reproduce by combining their energy together (this looks a bit like two Pokemon evolving at the same time). Because of this, they lack reproductive organs and chromosomes.

Gender is a loosely defined concept for them. Pokemon can change their sex upon evolution if they want to, and some will change their sex over time (ex: legendaries are usually genderless, but will gain a sex to breed and then lose it again afterward).

If a Pokemon doesn’t display sexual dimorphism, the only way to determine their sex is to have a Pokemon Center do a blood test.

Eggs aren’t laid, but created. The pregnant Pokemon fosters energy in their body. When ready they separate the extra energy from themselves (once again, looks a bit like evolution), which forms into the egg. This causes them no pain, and means they have short gestation periods.

This also means Pokemon never look pregnant. The only way to tell is by getting them tested or paying attention to changes in behavior. Many trainers end up with eggs out of nowhere because they had no idea one of their Pokemon was pregnant to begin with.

In the wild, some species of Pokemon will lay hundreds of eggs (such as fish and bug Pokemon) to ensure their survival. In captivity, Pokemon rarely create more than 1 or 2 eggs at a time, likely because they understand their young are safe with their trainers.

Pokemon develop more quickly in their eggs than IRL animals. They can technically hatch shortly after the egg is made, but they usually spend extra time inside maturing. By the time the egg hatches, the baby already has fur/feathers/whatever, and can walk and eat solid food. This helps ensure their survival against predators.

Young Pokemon are differentiated by being “mature” or “immature”; an immature Pokemon will still gradually grow and change appearance, while a mature one is fully grown until it evolves. A Pokemon cannot evolve until it’s considered mature (excluding mega evolution for single-stagers).

To use Vulpix as a canon example: a newly hatched immature Vulpix is about 8 in tall and has one white tail. A mature Vulpix is about 2 ft tall and has six red tails.

In the wild, Pokemon mostly breed amongst their own species. The exception are Pokemon with uneven gender ratios (so if a Pokemon is 7:1 male vs female, the males will actively breed with anything in their egg group). Inter-species breeding among captive Pokemon is much more common, and usually based on the Pokemon’s personal preferences.

Hybridization in Pokemon born from two different parents is very rare, but it does happen from time to time. It’s more common in Pokemon that look similar or are distantly related.

“Perfect” hybrids, Pokemon that have equal amounts of traits from both parents as well as typing and abilities, are more sought after than shinies. They usually can’t breed due to their mix of energies.

[smolfailure]

FUCK IT, DREAM SMP HOMESTUCK AU

but it's only half shitposts and there are actual Thoughts in there.

You don't need to have read the comic to understand because I tried not to spoil anything major, but it'd help if you knew basic stuff about classpects, SBURB and the hemospectrum.

disclaimer: i'm not a good pixel artist and this is my first actual sprites ever so please be kind to my weird pixels

The Kids:

Tommy

Fundy

Techno

Tubbo

tommy, tubbo and fundy one of the kids because they're the kids in dream smp canon (with fundy being son of wilbur)

techno's there because i want to make a dave strider reference (haha get it because techno's name is also da-- *gets shot) and also because they are both coolguys except instead of using irony, techno has adhd

The Trolls:

Wilbur Soohte (fuschia)

?????? Ehrret (violet)

J????? Shlatt (purple)

Nihacu Niikki (indigo)

Skeppy Diamon (cerulean)

Quacki Tthiey (teal)

Philza Myncra (jade)

Dreame Wastkn (lime disguising as olive)

George Notfou (gold)

Sapphe Nahfpe (bronze)

Badboy Haelow (burgundy)

don't come at me saying only females are allowed to be jades and fuschias; gender is fake and this is an au

more of the AU and the talksprites are under the cut:

Tommy

Lunar sway: Derse. Types in: Red

chaotic. the first person to be introduced.

when he gets introduced instead of the “Zoosmell Pooplord” bit, Tommy is initially going to be the name inputted but then backspaced it and decided that Tommyinnit was better and he was fuming until he’s named Tommy.

Gives me big Blood/Hope vibes. Blood because a lot of the conflict of the dream smp connected to someone breaking his trust or harming the things he cares about, Hope because a lot of the plot of the dream smp stems from Tommy starting shit based on his ideals and what he thinks is right.

the first to instigate fighting against the trolls

bbh contacts him once and tommy keeps cursing until he disconnects from frustration rip

wields Gunkind and his only strife weapon at the beginning is the Vlog gun. He has Gunkind as his strife specibus mainly because he looked up at schlatt and he imitates him.

Fundy

Lunar sway: Prospit. Types in: Orange

it was his idea to play SBURB but only through Dream.

he talks to dream the most among the other trolls fwt stans getcha juice this is the rosemary of the session

dream’s the one giving him exposition about the game so that’s how he knows how to play SBURB.

wilbur trolls fundy once and instantly adopts him.

“You’re my son.” “How does that even work??” “I was one of the people who created your universe. It’s basically the same thing.”

Fundy relents anyway.

Techno

Lunar sway: Derse. Types in: Pink

dave strider but dead-inside voice + rose lalonde english major vibes

he slices the text box when you try to name him "Dave " like in

techno gives me time player vibes (contantly on the move. his skyblock series, his “stays in the pit” monologue,) but also rage vibes (anarchy,  the “theseus” monologue, political alignment is Chaos) alas i am not sure what class

uses Tridentkind and claims "it came from god"

 it was dream, he accidentally transportalized one of wilbur’s weapon while he testing the transportalizer.

Tubbo

Lunar sway: Prospit. Types in: Green

the jade harley of this session. the only thing keeping them from going apeshit. where would they be without him.

but also jade harley in a sense that he seems nice and wholesome but also don’t fuck with them they can mess you up

Heart/Life vibes??? someone good at classpecting help

i put them in prospit bc of the "tubbo third eye" instead of tubbo having a sixth sense or smth, they see the future from the clouds of skaia when they sleep

wields Stress-relieverKind at some point

bonus: everyone’s actual hair colors

Ideas about the Trolls

no i haven’t done their sprites yet bc it would take so much time and i’m not even sure if people wanna see more of this au skjdkdsakdfkl,, but i have Design Ideas.

events of the dsmp revolution are just a FLARP session drawing parallels to how the homestuck trolls had a FLARP session that spoiler alert: destroyed friendships. dtrio, eret, will are involved. eret betrays will's faction and wilbur's still Bitter over that.

on the context of alternia (highbloods and lowbloods) lmanburg and dreamsmp have their roles SWAPPED.  the emancipation theme thing is completely gone since highbloods are in more power than the lowbloods (the dream team) . 

wilbur made a faction called l’manburg because he wants a place where he and his fellow highbloods could make drugs vibe.they take a piece of land that was owned by the dream team. in normal circumstances, they shouldve stood down because lowbloods aren't supposed to start shit with highbloods (especially a group of highbloods that has the alternian heir among them)  but dream turned it into an activism thing about lowblood rights. the story plays as close as possible without tommy or tubbo in it (which is pretty hard ik but this is the best can do).

like in the dreamsmp revolution, dream kinda let wilbur do what he wants but this time he has more reason to because he’s in a lower caste. dream really only fought back when wilbur announced that he’d be building lmanburg on their land and calling it theirs.

eret betrays wilbur by supporting the lowbloods and wilbur and co. technically won but only because he finally called the drones in, as a reference to how lmanburg absolutely got crushed by the dream team in the smp but technically won. l’manburg keeps the piece of land and the dream team scatter away to find a new home.

wilbur soot's a fuschia because a) he's in a position that has a lot of power, b) yknow how he wrote a song about squids and his thing with sally… yeah.

eret's a violet because nobility!! dream looks down on him because he's ambivalent on fighting for lowblood rights when he's in a power to do so "you just sit there, and you look pretty that's it"

also like eridan he has a minor aesthetic mutation (herobrine eyes) that won't classify him as a mutant.

jschlatt is purple because it makes sense thematically because of the gamzee parallels (a. substance abuse b. if you know what happens in act 6, you know this already but spoiler alert, he ruins the main protagonists' lives) also he's a funnyman he deserves the clown caste

 quackity's a teal because he’s a law student. moving on--

 ok but for real it also makes sense thematically because he's the one who wrote the thing that tricked schlatt into agreeing also he gets manipulated by schlatt which also draws parallels to certain events in the comic

skeppy and bbh are BEST FRIENDS despite being highblood and lowblood respectively. initially, skeppy just wanted to bother bbh but they grew to be good friends in time. y’know like how they actually becane friends :D

philza minecraft is a jade because dad friend. also works thematically, because spoiler alert he gets to murder a seadweller for going batshit crazy. 

he also god tiers early. he dies fighting his quick undead denizen (haha baby zombie) but the consorts of his land carry him to his quest bed because he’s treated them all so well.

dream was initially going to be another caste but then i realized that means i have to make his hoodie something other than green which is unacceptable so its a good thing the fact that he's a lime works out

dream was the one who thought of playing sgrub in the first place- initially only planned to have gogy, sap, and bbh in the session but then realized that they four won't be enough so he invited more into his session

he’s also the first to go godtier ez clap blind speedrun not sure what classpect tho

the only reason why dream avoided being culled at birth for being a limeblood is because his rng is That Good. he quickly picked up the fact that he’s not supposed to exist and masqueraded as an oliveblood and kept mostly to himself to avoid suspicion.

george is still colorblind but he has lazer eyes along with it instead. dream lives with him in the same hive since being a mutant means dream doesn’t get a lusus of his own (dnf fans getcha juice “and they were roommates”) 

despite living in the same hive, he never really figures out that dream is a limeblood. possibly because a) he’s colorblind and when he sees dream bleeding he just sees yellow b) he’s just that fucking oblivious and it’s so valid of him.

sapnap’s a bronzeblood mainly because i know he’s the instigator of the pet war with tommy also because i associate him with the color orang in my mind so bronze it is

that’s the end of this long-ass post!! if you have other ideas PLEASE i want to hear them. i don’t know the other streamers i mentioned in here very well so if you have ideas that would be fitting to them like with classpect or lunar sway that would be GREAT. 

the only thing i’m confident about in here are the kids’ lunar sways. i’m not an expert in classpects and homestuck lore so there’s that too!! i just wanted to make this post because adhd means that the idea wouldn’t shut up until i finished it. This initially started as a single shitpost edit of tommyinnit talksprite but then the hiveswap 2 trailer came out and that means i have to combine my two hyperfixations.

also i have ideas about potential quadrants but idk how much of that is breaking some streamers’ boundaries about shipping (even the non romantic quads such as kismesistude, morallegiance and auspisticism) so i decided not to include it.

edit: apparently people want more so i made a discord server as a place to brainstorm!! please pm me to join!

[lispectore]

antvenom talks about dream's community and stans

"When surveying how toxic a community is, you have to look at the majority, not the outlier minority. (...) I think it's much easier to assume that the current Minecraft culture is bad because of toxic Dream stans, because they're the loudest and most disliked group the game has ever seen.

But percentage wise, they make up an exceptionally small percent of his overall audience. Again, we're talking about at most, 1,000-10,000 total super toxic fans out of a pool of 10,000,000. That's 0.01% to 0.1% of his total audience. Not just people who fawn over him, but the maliciously toxic ones.

And I would argue that only 1-10% of his current audience are the kind to fawn over him and revere him like a god. But hey, I think we can all look back over some figure in our past that we can draw heavy influence from. The key difference here is that it's all on public display, and they get louder about it because they have a community to feel excited alongside.

I feel not very many people tend to focus on the fans in the middle of the "toxicity bell curve". They tend to focus on those who either viscerally hate his guts, or those who would probably, actually take a bullet for him. But the vast majority exist in the middle, and are reasonable fans who enjoy his content and don't get caught up on the extreme ends of the bell curve.

The same applies for literally any audience with any kind of an active fanbase.

Dream has definitely made a lot of mistakes, and I'm sure he still isn't perfect... but he's definitely gotten better, and I think that's also worth noting.

In the past 4-10 years, opinions on the internet have a tendency to gravitate towards the most extreme version of that opinion. How much people gravitate towards the extreme end of the conversation, IMO, generally depends on how mature of a person they are. The same thing happens in politics. Not that I'm gonna get political here, but in any discussion, whether it be politics, or Dream fans/stans, how often do you see the extreme ends of peoples opinions getting amplified, and how infrequently do you see the voice of people in the middle getting amplified?

Enjoy what you enjoy without the influence of others. So long as what you enjoy doesn't bring harm to any others, live your own life. Pursue your own hobbies, your own passions, your own interests. People who allow their core beliefs to be influenced by others generally don't make it very far. Not always, but it's better to be yourself."

(x, x)

[ardwynna]

Saying “children should not be exposed to sex” is not “infantilization” it is common sense, and has been agreed upon by society at large. And them being exposed to it doesn’t help them “learn and grow” it is traumatizing. It does the opposite of that. Please step outside your bubble and learn more about this before you do something harmful.

Let’s talk about my bubble. I was a health counselor in college. A high school biology teacher for a stint after that. I am a doctor now. Human biological and psychosocial development is a thing I actually have a bit of learning and experience with, if you can imagine. And I have given ‘The Talk’ in quite a few varied forms.

Now, by “children”, do you mean prepubescents only, the way people generally do? Or are you including adolescents as well, like fandom police? Either way, there is a level of sex talk you can give to prepubescents, they do often want to know where babies come from. Some of them even get the Penis-In-Vagina bit of The Talk and handle it pretty well.

Adolescents on the other hand, well, maybe you’re a fan of US-style Abstinence Only education. I am not. So not. Comprehensive sex education all the way. No ifs, ands or buts. They’re literally going through sexual development. How can you stomach keeping people ignorant about what’s happening to them? It’s dangerous, and in my thinking, unethical. They need to be prepared. You ever explained to a class of thirteen year olds what oral sex and dental dams are? I have. You ever described vaginal secretions and ovulation changes to sixteen year olds? I have. And for the record, they brought it up. Curiosity is normal at that age and they had questions. Some of them were already experimenting and putting themselves at all kinds of risk from ignorance. Lucky I have the actual schooling and certification to answer those questions, eh?

Now, lets talk about fandom. Fanfic is entertainment. Fanart is entertainment. Fandom content creators are for the most part a bunch of marginalized amateurs chucking out works for their own amusement and any friends they can make with similar tastes in this rapidly wildening internet. Fanfic is not The Talk. Fanart is not a How-To. You have a better chance getting a decent version of The Talk at PornHub. You don’t expect people to learn sexual behavior from Game of Thrones, do you? Why would you expect them to go learn it from fandom? Why do you think fandom is such a huge influence? Because I promise you, as huge a part of your life as it might be right now, it’s a drop in a bucket compared to the rest of the world. It just doesn’t have the reach or the capability to serve as an ‘educational’ source. Nobody is saying kids should come to fandom to learn about sex. But if they get an eyeful, honestly the stuff they see here isn’t going to be much worse than Cinemax on a Saturday night.

Now, we have established that adolescents have sexual interest, even if it’s just the academic kind for some of them. We have established that knowledge is better than ignorance. We have established that fandom is not nor should be the source of that knowledge, or sure as shit not the only one.

Now let’s talk about exposure.

To sign up for social media sites, and frankly most online accounts, you have to be at least 13. Adolescent. An age of sexual development and curiosity. At 13, you are deemed old enough to leave the kiddy pool and start swimming with the rest of us. And that means learning how to operate in the wider world. It means sharing space with a wider age group than you’re used to. It means learning how to decide what is for you, what is not for you, and what is not for you yet. Same way you pass the cigs and alcohol in the convenience store before you’re old enough, you can bypass a tagged, age-rated and warned-for fic and stick to something more age-appropriate. But you do have to get used to seeing these things, and passing them by, and saying “Not now.” That’s part of living in a society. If you opt to use a fake ID to bypass the barrier, if you opt to lie about your age online, that’s on you. Only you. The adult world does not stop just because minors exist. The protections of prepubescent childhood are not meant to last forever. Adolescence is a training stage.

So if ‘children’ are being exposed to sex in fandom, they’re exposing themselves. And that’s on their parents and caregivers for not giving them proper guidelines, not enforcing those guidelines, or not giving them enough proper education to satisfy their natural curiosity, or counteract whatever fantabulous imaginary sexual escapade they go looking for online. You can’t leave kids’ welfare up to distant strangers on the internet. Distant strangers, I must add, who have EVERY RIGHT to freedom of expression and living their adult lives to the fullest. The presence of teenagers does not change that. The teens have the tools now to protect themselves. They have the tags and the warnings. But they insist on acting like actual children, prepubescents, and not people who should be practicing their basic life skills. The teenagers on social media and fandom sites need to step up and meet fandom halfway. They cannot be babied forever.

So either the ‘children’ hike off to go ask Alice, if Mommy and Daddy completely dropped the ball, or they start practicing some self control. Because wherever the adults go, the kids follow. They follow despite lockdowns, they click despite warnings, they read despite age recommendations, and that’s entirely on the kids. Because nobody put a gun to their head and made them click.

[transgenderer]

i feel like cancel culture discourse is mostly terrible because it like, doesnt really refer to a single phenomonenon? i think theres basically three things called cancel culture, at three scales: community, vigilante, and celebrity.

community cancel culture occurs among (generally large and decentralized, like on tumblr or twitter) groups of peers. usually its about minor political minutiae, works through callout posts or rumor networks, and generally has social/emotional consequences (rather than material), relating to ostracization, facilitation of abuse, scrupulosity issues, harassment generally a whole host of mental health stuff.

i think this is pretty unambiguously bad, but is hard to avoid, because like, wanting to have communities defined by certain political inclinations is reasonable, and also there are genuinely unacceptable political positions in a community (like, if your group contains a lot of LGBT, nonwhite, jewish, disabled, etc people, its pretty understandable to want it to contain zero literal nazis), and also people will use whatever they can to try to acquire social power

vigilante cancel culture happens when a group of people (often the same groups mentioned before) find somebody online, who has a job unrelated to politics, and decides that because they disagree wit their politics, theyre going to try to ruin their life. this includes harassing them, or in worse cases, trying to get them fired from their job, etc. this is, imo, unambiguously terrible, and essentially just like, communally justified sadism. this is also easy to avoid. dont try to get people fired for their political views, dont harass people.

celebrity cancel culture is the most visible, and the most ambiguous. it takes multiple forms, but i think they form one large phemonemon. the first form is the MeToo movement. this is, in its purest form, i think very good. there are lots of (usually men) people in powerful positions who use this position to cause harm to people they have power over, by sexually harassing them or sexually assaulting them. moving away from a culture of silence about sexual harassment and assault is good.

however, i think this too has failure states. often singular allegations, from unreliable sources or with explicit logical issues in them get passed around and can ruin someones career. one of the most egregious examples of this is the whole mitski allegations, which are it seems totally unfounded. theres also the problem of vague allegations emergining out of rumor networks, causing massive damage to someone's life, and then when the smoke clears it turns out the allegations were fairly minor, if they existed at all. one case of this is nick robinson, who got fired from polygon based on a bunch of vague rumored allegations, only for the eventual reveal to be he...flirted poorly and awkwardly with someone else in the games industry.

the other form is political cancellation of celebrities. this is complicated by the vast spectrum of celebrity in the modern era. this can go from youtubers with a million subscribers to yknow, real actual celebrities who get put in movies. generally these campaigns basically dont touch "real" celebrities, but can have a fairly substantial effect on minor celebrities. theres a wide continuum of outcomes heres. often a minor celebrity wont have their career destroyed, but they will be ceaselessly harassed to the extent it destroys their mental health. theres also the weird case of political creators, who are often not so much cancelled as lose popularity if their political views change, or views that are incongruous with those perceived by their audience are revealed. i think this is the least objectionable case of this kind of political cancellation, which is not to say it cant cause problems, especially when its paired with harassment.

anyway uh. cancel culture. its probably bad "on average" (to the extent you can average out stuff like this, which you cant), but its complicated and subtle.

[mariaiscrafting]

Let’s talk about the old Techno tweets

For a week now, I’ve been sitting on this ask that linked me to a Twitter callout thread on SBI. Although I have many thoughts about the entire thread, I’ve since only had the time and will to respond to the Techno part, and I figured instead of keeping it in my drafts and waiting to gather the energy to write the rest, I’d just post what I have.

Here is the thread, for reference: https://twitter.com/burner0321/status/1379103348364865536?s=21 Trigger Warnings: anti-semitism, mentions of genocide, racism, n* slur, r* slur, ableism, lesbophobia, racism Please prioritize your health and safety, and do not engage with this thread or this post if you will get triggered by any of the aforementioned. I love you, please take care of yourself, first.

So, let’s talk Technoblade’s history of making “edgy” jokes. When CCs tend to use edginess as a cover for offensive humor, they tend to do so to cover up the fact that their humor involves taking shots at minorities or employs harmful stereotypes, without addressing why people get offended by such jokes. However, when I call Technoblade’s old humor edgy, this is not what I mean. The reason I do not think people are justified in demanding an apology or addressing of the jokes in the Twitter thread is because they do not use the minorities or horrible things they address as the punchline. A joke can be in bad taste, without being malicious. This is edgy humor. In explaining my point, I want to address as many of the specific things in the thread as possible.

1) I don’t fully understand the “was Hitler a lesbian?” tweet or the title of that video, so I won’t address that. If someone has something to say about it, feel free to reply to this post, I’d love to see what you think of it.

2) Next, we have the, “titling my next video ‘mvp++ is worse than nazi germany’” tweet. What is the joke in this tweet? The joke is that the comparison between a Minecraft game and a fascist regime that caused genocide is ridiculous, and as such, would be effective clickbait, and draw people into the video. The joke is not that Nazi Germany should be taken lightly; it is actually the complete opposite.

3) Next, “#askpewds do you have any constructive criticism for Nazi Germany.” Frankly, without the context of timeframe or what the hell was going on within the Twittersphere at the time, I can only make a reach as to what this joke meant. I assume it’s in reference to the time period during which Pewdiepie was being framed as a fascist by several media outlets, and could either be a joke on the fact that people believe Pewdiepie to be a neo-Nazi, or a shot at Pewdiepie himself, by playing on the fact that he actually does espouse neo-Nazi beliefs. Again, the punchline is far from, “Nazi Germany was good,” or anything along those lines. Edgy, not anti-semitic.

4) The vampireZ tweet. The joke here is, “why did vampireZ think this was a good idea,” not, “haha get it, black people kill people.” As with many of these kinds of jokes, the existence of the word, “black” in the joke makes people think he is insulting black people. In reality, the tweet points out that the game is fitting into the history of media portraying black people as the more aggressive, violent, and/or murderous characters, and is like, “hey, isn’t this kinda fucked?”

5) This tweet actually does make an offensive joke that is malicious in its intent. Congratulations, we are five tweets in, and we finally found a joke that makes minorities the punchline. I completely understand people’s criticisms of this one. The punchline here is, “haha, I’m one of those entitled people who claims that racial profiling is the reason I was wronged,” and this minimizes the fact that racial profiling is an real, serious, and widespread problem. This tweet makes it seem like people claim that racial profiling is the reason they are excluded from spaces or that punitive actions that were enacted upon them are doing so unjustly. This can be extrapolated from the fact that it’s ridiculous to think that a) a Minecraft server would racially profile someone, and b) that a white person would be racially profiled.

6) This tweet literally just seems like a sarcastic response to someone who was accused of being a white supremacist and/or racist. Presumably, SealPlays was defending himself of not being racist, and Technoblade responded sarcastically that he was "totally” trying to recruit him to the KKK. I literally see no reason someone thought this was malicious? This does not make light of the KKK, and it doesn’t make black people or any other group or individual victimized by the KKK the punchline.

7) The slavery jokes. Presumably, the slavery jokes are in reference to the times on his Skyblock, SMP Earth, and/or Dream SMP streams and videos, during which Technoblade has done bits about making some of his friends slaves for him, so he has to do less work. Again, slavery jokes might be in bad taste, but there was literally no racial context to this, given that he wasn’t make jokes about any black CCs being his slaves. This is not to mention that he always played up the role of the one telling the people what to do, making it out to be a very negative role that only an arrogant, selfish, and/or callous person would fill. Think, Alec Baldwin playing Trump. This part of the thread is, however, so vague, that it’s hard to know exactly what instances the OP is even talking about.

There are several reasons I am personally angered by this section of the thread, but in an effort to make this post shorter, I’ll only discuss two: One, there are genuinely things that CCs, including Technoblade, have said, that carry ignorant and malicious connotations. The racial profiling joke is just one example. To create a thread where most of the examples are absolute bullshit, lack context, and/or were misinterpreted on your part is a disservice to minorities who want to have productive conversations about genuinely harmful things. I want to talk about this idea that minorities who talk about their experiences with microaggressions, such as racial profiling, are seeking attention/using an excuse/lying. But that one tweet is so buried under this mountain of bullshit that has everyone talking over each other and screaming, that the one conversation we should be having cannot be had. Two, I am utterly exhausted at watching people misinterpet jokes. As I have already said again and again, just because a joke mentions something horrible, does not mean it is malicious, or that it even harms anyone. A joke needs to make light of something horrible and/or make minorities the punchline to cross the line from “edgy” to “explicitly offensive.”

I would like to make a disclaimer: there is always two sides to a CC doing something wrong. There is the CC, who may or may not have had malicious intent, and there is the audience, who may or may not take offense to what was done or said. Both of these are separate, and I will treat them as such. What I am examining in this post is mostly the first thing - were the things said or jokes made meant with racist, anti-semitic, homophobic, etc., intent, or are people unjustified in stating that they were? That being said, and this is important: anyone is allowed to take offense to and not forgive a CC for making a joke or saying something, no matter what. Even if a joke was meant satirically or does not actually offend minorities, if you, as an individual, take offense to it and were deeply hurt by it, that is fucking valid. Do not let anyone tell you otherwise. A CC can apologize for something, and that can mean that objectively, they are not a bad person and/or have grown, but that does not mean you have to forgive them. There are two sides to this coin, and they are not inherently dependent upon each other.

If someone is offended by any of the jokes Techno made, that is perfectly valid and understandable. Even if I or anyone else comes to the objective conclusion that any given joke doesn’t have malicious intent, that doesn’t erase minorities’ very real feelings about such.

[carolyncaves]

And here we are: the 5th and final installment of WWX Goes to Gusu, aka What Actually Changes As A Result? This AU went a lot farther than I ever expected it to, and I’m so glad it did, I had a lot of fun writing it - thanks to everyone who’s taken the time to join me in it, now or in the future! 4812 words + postscript, the gang’s all here in this one, vague mental illness Wei Wuxian and now-married Wangxian, minor background pairings, some angst and sadness (I couldn’t completely save Wen Ning from his canon fate), a terrible party (that CQL staple) but in a potentially better way this time

part one | part two | part three | part four | also on ao3

“I thought I told you not to overdo it,” Jiang Cheng said to him lowly, as he and Wei Wuxian made their way together back down the mountain toward Jinlintai.

“Didn’t you hear that Jin-gongzi at the opening ceremony, though? He practically begged me. I wasn’t blindfolded, but I think I lived up to his invitation.”

“So it was on purpose, then? You set out to catch half the mountain in our nets? It wasn’t because you didn’t know your own power?”

Wei Wuxian didn’t know how to respond to that, so he didn’t at all. There would be time for that later, when they weren’t sharing a hillside with a hundred cultivators – or never, if he really had his preference.

“It’s fine,” Jiang Cheng said, before the question or its answer could agitate him. “We’ll work with it. It certainly made a statement, and if the point is to remind the Jin sect they don’t rule the world, a ridiculous display of power from the Jiang sect head disciple isn’t the worst thing that could have happened.”

Wei Wuxian thought ‘not the worst thing that could have happened’ was a low bar to set, but wasn’t about to argue with him about it.

At that point left Jiang Cheng left Wei Wuxian’s side and made his way over to confer with Shijie. That was for the best. She would probably be clearer in the retelling of the previous tense confrontation than Wei Wuxian would be. Somewhere in the middle the Jin cousin had said something too far, something about Lan Zhan and a demonic cultivator like him, and Wei Wuxian’s brain had gone white and his core had gone black, black, black with smoke. He didn’t know why he hadn’t torn that blowhard to pieces. Lan Zhan and Shijie must have stopped him.

And then Shijie, Shijie, stood in the center of a bunch of loud, arrogant men and cut every one of them down.

A part of Wei Wuxian was itching to abandon this banquet – to get away from the Jins and particularly that one, with his lousy attitude and even lousier manners, and from Yao-zongzhu and his ilk. He imagined forgoing a stuffy room full of fake, stuffy people and walking the public boulevards with a bottle of baijiu, agreeably alone in that crowd instead of under a thousand eyes in the customary one. He hadn’t forgotten the welcome ceremony, the archery range with its human targets. He’d been furious since then, in a way he’d started to think maybe he’d grown too cold to be anymore. Furious at the treatment of the Wen prisoners, furious at his impotence under the shake of his brother’s head.

Lan Zhan had taken his headband from his forehead and given it to him. Right in front of the entire world. He and Wei Wuxian were married, so he was allowed to do that. And he wanted to.

Wei Wuxian had stepped up to the targets – innocent people in front of him, guilty ones behind. Lan Zhan watching him, Jin Guangshan watching him, Shijie and Jiang Cheng and the peacock and Jin Guangyao. He had no golden core, just euphoria and fury swirling in his blood. He had to nock his bow and do this right. There were innocent people in front of him. There was no other option.

It was enough. He was enough. He just had to keep being enough.

He’d felt like too much on the mountain, when everyone was arguing with him. He felt like too much now. To make himself feel better, he looked over at Lan Zhan.

Lan Zhan, who today wore blue, a darker color than Wei Wuxian had ever seen him in. Darker than the baby blue of his forehead ribbon. Light for a Jiang, but unmistakably something that placed him with them – though the white wasn’t gone, showing in his inner layers and the embroidery down the sides of his collar. Wei Wuxian liked it. He looked … Wei Wuxian’s and himself at once. It was exactly how Wei Wuxian wanted him to look for all their days.

Lan Zhan, who despite not knowing about the flute playing advance, had immediately jumped to Wei Wuxian's defense when Jin Whoever accused him over it. Who’d said things like, “You stand before us and think we should know your name. How can you say Wei Ying is too proud?” “Wei Ying doesn’t need to carry his sword. I carry mine.” “If you think you have more capability than Wei Ying or myself, show me.”

Lan Zhan, who’d stood next to him, right next to him, and maintained a steady grip on his arm even as tears leaked out of Wei Wuxian’s eyes and he didn’t know how he was going to bear standing there and continuing to exist from one second to the next. That feeling had receded fast, fortunately, and Lan Zhan hadn’t let go of him until it was gone.

Lan Zhan, who was now looking at him.

Wei Wuxian made his heart settle, banished any remaining errant thought of leaving the group. He couldn’t be anywhere else when his husband was here. He smiled back at him.

Lan Zhan moved toward him like a river moved downhill.

As soon as he reached his side, he put a hand under his elbow, so they were walking as one.

“If you’re not careful, Lan Zhan, people will think something scandalous.” Nothing could be scandalous between them, really, but Wei Wuxian felt compelled to tease.

Lan Zhan did not rise to the bait, nor did he remove his hand. It was amazing how a few lifelong vows had emboldened him. “You did not need to play,” he said. “To use your cultivation today.”

Ah, that. “It was for the hunt, Lan Zhan.”

“The crowd hunt is a game.”

“Yes, and I did it for show, for helping Jiang Cheng secure power. He asked me to do it, we worked it all out in advance.”

“Jiang Wanyin has no call to ask that of you.”

“Lan Zhan, are you jealous? You are! You both really are two pieces of work. Jiang Cheng is my shidi and sect leader. You are my beloved husband and partner – in cultivation and all other things. I know I am not quite a whole man, but still, surely there is enough of me to spread between you." This routine was meant entirely in jest, but as was sometimes the case with jests, Wei Wuxian felt like he'd struck himself somewhere vital saying it.

Lan Zhan still seemed dismayed as well. “You are your whole self. But what of you? How much of you do you retain?”

“The whole part you have, I have,” Wei Wuxian promised, leaning closer into Lan Zhan, letting him carry his weight. “This modest, simple Wei likes how much you have of him.”

Lan Zhan hmphed. “You are not modest.” Then, with no humor: “You chose not to tell me.”

“I’m sorry, Lan Zhan. I didn't want you to worry about it the whole time. You can play Cleansing for me three times this evening to make up for it.”

Lan Zhan’s face took on a look of despair, and Wei Wuxian realized that was probably not a kind thing to have said. This wasn't banter.

“I’m sorry, Lan Zhan,” he said again, and this time he tried to say it seriously. “I needed to do this for Jiang Cheng. I’m going to have to use it sometimes. But I’m sorry I didn't tell you beforehand. I shouldn't, we ..." He stopped and grabbed Lan Zhan's hand, turning it palm-up and putting his hand overtop of it. The others would get ahead of them, but they could catch up. "I should have told you. I know. I just don’t like to make you sad."

"You are harming yourself."

"It's my way of doing good in the world, Zan Zhan." It's the only one I have left, he didn't say where someone might be around to overhear them, but he knew Lan Zhan understood it. "Would you really begrudge me of it?"

Lan Zhan's hand tightened around Wei Wuxian's own, like he was fighting a violent internal war and Wei Wuxian was his lifeline. That wasn't quite true – Wei Wuxian himself was the one putting Lan Zhan through this in the first place. There was nothing to be done about it, though. The other person's battles were unavoidable now that they occupied shared territory.

Wei Wuxian wouldn’t terribly mind letting Lan Zhan eviscerate all his enemies for him. He certainly wouldn’t mind lying down somewhere small and private and listening to Lan Zhan play sweet healing music for him. Then he would beckon him over and take his husband in his arms. He shook those thoughts out of his head. They still had work left to do here today.

"Never mind it now, Lan Zhan. We have a banquet to attend. Afterward, we can talk all night.”

“You must sleep.”

“And so must you, but if my Lan Zhan needs his husband to soothe him, that will of course take precedence." He caressed his free hand down Lan Zhan's shoulder, a gloriously intimate gesture for a public space, one he could make because they were married.

“I am always soothed, simply being with you," Lan Zhan replied – though he wasn't arguing. He said it softly, like an embrace.

"Ah, Lan Zhan, I think if you look back to our younger days, you will find that is fundamentally not the case!"

Jiang Cheng, who’d apparently hung back, called over his shoulder that they were being sickening, and Wei Wuxian hastened down the slope so he could shove him. Jiang Cheng and Lan Zhan glowered at each other. Shijie smiled and scolded them.

She scolded Lan Zhan sometimes, now – not quite the way she scolded Jiang Cheng, the free and easy way of people who'd been doing this all their life (scolding and being scolded respectively) and knew exactly what it meant between them. Lan Zhan was too new for that, they were too much strangers, so when she chastised her Difu it was gently, politely, obviously affectionate. She was inoculating him to the play-biting that went back and forth between the three of them, indoctrinating him into having a elder sister who knew better. Lan Zhan, for his part, seemed baffled by both the behavior and his own unquestionable yearning for it. The first time it happened, he was very disoriented, wounded and remorseful and bewildered. She had sat with him and touched his hand and cooked some traditional Lan food for him afterward, in apology. But now he was easing further and further into it with each exposure. He never argued back – perhaps never would, since it wasn't really like him, at least with anyone who wasn't Wei Wuxian – but he was absorbing the lesson that affection could sound like chastisement when it was meant right.

Coming from the Lan sect, where affection took the form of 3000 severe and limiting and unfun rules, Wei Wuxian would have thought he would have grasped it more quickly.

When they reached Jinlintai, the peacock was waiting at the top of the steps for them. Well, for Shijie, but he bowed to the rest of them to be cordial.

Jin-furen had asked Shijie to accompany her privately back to Jinlintai, saying she would convince Jin Zixuan to come see her and apologize, and Shijie had said, “I must go with my family to the banquet, as a representative of the Jiang sect, but I would be quite pleased to speak with Jin-gongzi there.” And apparently Jin-furen had made it happen. The peacock escorted Shijie inside with sure, careful honor, even after making a complete fool of himself over her in front of everyone on the mountain.

That was the first time Wei Wuxian was willing to consider that – perhaps – the peacock might love Shijie enough to be worthy of marrying her.

The rest of them filed in and found their seats – Wei Wuxian’s with Lan Zhan on one side and Jiang Cheng on the other. Jin Guangshan toasted Jiang Cheng, and Jiang Cheng gave all their prey to the other sects. This was probably necessary, after the way people had reacted, and Wei Wuxian made himself stand up and say a few empty pleasant words. He probably came across a little stiff over having to act like what he’d done and what he’d learned were nothing. It was fine, though, would be fine for Jiang Cheng. Anyway, let them think it was nothing. Let them underestimate him – or let them know he could do far more if he wanted.

Then, Wei Wuxian turned his back for one moment – to share a quiet snicker with Nie Huaisang over something unrelated and entirely too lewd for this formal setting – and when he turned around, Jin Zixun was deeply overcommitted in harassing Lan Zhan.

He started out ostensibly harassing Lan Xichen, but Lan Zhan had gone over to speak with his brother, and Jin Zixun was targeting both of them. Wei Wuxian restrained himself for the count of three, the count of five. Maybe Lan Xichen would dissuade him. The rest of room was quiet, but Wei Wuxian’s blood was loud. What was the matter with this man? Everyone knew the Lans didn't drink by doctrine. Was this revenge for Lan Zhan's words on the mountain, an attempt to humiliate the Lan sect in retaliation? Jin Guangyao tried to talk him down, but he was toothless, had no bite. Why in the world was Jin Guangshan just sitting there watching the First Jade of Lan consume alcohol against his will instead of calling his uncouth nephew to heel?

Jin Guangshan's eyes flickered to Wei Wuxian, just long enough they couldn't avoid meeting.

He'd been making sure Wei Wuxian was watching. This was retaliation, but not against Lan Zhan. Maybe Jin Zixun was truly an idiot, a petty, small man bullying polite people thinking it would win him face – but Jin Guangshan was letting him, the same way Jiang Cheng had excused him catching thirty percent of the prey on the mountain.

If it would hurt Wei Wuxian to see his husband suffer out of Jin Zixun's rudeness, if it would weaken him to embarrass the Lans, Jin Guangshan wanted it.

Wei Wuxian was taking the cup out of Jin Zixun's hand before he was even conscious of crossing the hall. The black rising energy must have gotten him there.

Wei Wuxian drank for Lan Zhan. Wei Wuxian spoke smooth and briefly to Jin Zixun. There was fear in the man’s eyes when he looked back at him, and he stepped away. Good. Jin Guangshan was the only other person he could see, and he looked much less relaxed and haughty than he had a moment ago. Very good. A servant came up beside them.

Except it wasn't a servant. But the moment he spent sorting that out, the half second it took his humming brain to identify dust-covered red from burnt orange, was all the time she needed.

Wei Wuxian would have recognized her in short order anyway – he’d spent a desperate week in her compound and two terrible days under her hand on a mountain, so he knew her carriage, her breath, and a simple disguise wouldn't have fooled him for long. But the hood of Wen Qing’s cloak fell back when she swung Jin Zixun around and pressed her knife to his throat, saving him even momentary confusion.

///

Lan Wangji would later have to recognize he did not notice Wen Qing's approach because Wei Ying had been the center of every thread of his attention.

Lan Wangji had wanted to disappear when Jin Zixun extended him the cup of wine. It put him in a position where he had no good path. Refuse, and coldly insult the host sect. Drink, and make a mockery of himself. Both would reflect poorly on his family, of birth and marriage. Both would diminish him, which would endanger Wei Ying. He had never been good with words or people, had few informal relationships. What he had was his reputation, and he was going to damage it here, one way or another.

Shufu had asked him if he was willing to have it dragged through the mud for Wei Ying. He was. But he had intended on preserving it long enough to be able to spend it on his behalf. This humiliation would be pointless.

Then Wei Ying stood above him.

The dark, bold lines of his form stood out against the colorful backdrop of Glamour Hall. His bold actions did likewise. The decisive movement of his hand. The contraction of his throat. His possessive words. Even the cold voice he spoke them in – those soulless tones sent a shiver down Lan Zhan’s spine like they always did, but he would at some future point grapple with the truth that this time, directed as they were at the detestable Jin Zixun in Lan Wangji’s open defense, that shiver was touched by something magnetic.

Lan Wangji was watching Wei Ying, as he always was, when it happened, with a contradictory mixture of alarm and awe.

He returned to himself immediately once he understood there was an intruder. He moved to draw Bichen. Wei Ying’s hand wrapped around Lan Wangji’s wrist, staying it.

“Wen Qing,” Wei Ying said.

Wen Qing.

She looked hollowed and worn, was covered in dirt and mud like a vagabond. She did not carry her sword. Lan Wangji tried to decide if he was personally moved by her hardship. She was the one who agreed to maim Wei Ying, tore that golden light out of him with her own skill. On the one hand, Wei Ying begged her to do it, and Lan Wangji faced the same struggle every day – between what Wei Ying wished to do and what would be good and safe and well for him. On the other, if he could not forgive himself for his failures there, why should he forgive her?

Her grip was ferocious on her knife and on Jin Zixun’s collar, but the blade never brushed his neck. “Tell me where the Dafan Wens are, or I'll kill you.”

Jin Guangyao had lurched far back when Wen Qing struck. His hand had flown to his waist and frozen there. Several Jin disciples who had been standing guard had hurried in, and every guest had risen and exposed the steel of their swords, but no one had made the decision to approach yet. Wen Qing had no escape, but a confrontation would surely end Jin Zixun’s life along with her own. Lan Wangji almost wished someone would be bold enough to take the initiative – but Wei Ying spoke of Wen Qing like a friend. And if she had some argument against Jin Zixun, Lan Wangji had to consider the possibility he would agree with her.

Wen Qing did not jerk Jin Zixun or twist his clothing. She just repeated her demand. “Tell me where they are. The old women and young children, the people who have never known how to fight. The disciples you attached lure flags to so they could serve as live bait in Ganquan. My brother, Wen Ning, Wen Qionglin. Where is he?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jin Zixun pled.

“Then you’re no good to me alive,” Wen Qing said, and Jin Zixun flinched.

“Do you think I know your brother by name? Do you think I have time to remember every disciple from the Wen sect?” He tried to sneer despite his obvious pathetic terror. “Besides, I thought your breed of Wen didn't kill people.”

“Who told you that?" The fear and fury rang through in her clear voice. "Who said to you that my family doesn't kill people?"

He said nothing, but the answer was plain enough.

“You’re right, Wen Qing doesn't kill people,” Wei Ying said. “But I do.”

“Wei Wuxian,” Jiang Wanyin interjected, alarmed.

“I don't mean anything by it. Only that we of course need to see this out. Wen Qing and Wen Ning did not fight against the allied sects during Sunshot – in fact, they sheltered Jiang-zongzhu and I from their own family. They saved our lives. In that respect, the cultivation owes the defeat of Wen Ruohan’s puppets to them.” And to Wei Ying himself, he was subtly reminding them. “We all know a great many Wens have been detained, but if they are being mistreated and used as live bait, if Wen Qionglin is in danger, I know Lanling Jin will be just as eager to get to the bottom of it as the rest of us." Wei Ying looked past Wen Qing, past Jin Zixun, and stared Jin Guangshan dead in the eye. Daring him to argue.

Dangerous. That was dangerous. Jin Guangshan was a man accustomed to being in power. Still, Lan Wangji admired it.

“You really brag about your use of Yin Iron?” Yao-zongzhu asked him from one side. “About hurting so many cultivators in the process on the battlefield?”

“She’s still a Wen, isn’t she?” Nie Mingjue said from the other. “Dafan Wen, Qishan Wen – it makes no difference. She did not act to stop Wen Ruohan. She is complicit.”

“She did shelter us,” Jiang Wanyin interjected, setting his shoulders nervously against his fellow sect leader. “She and Wen Ning took that risk.”

“The Dafan Wens have a long history as doctors who eschew violence,” Lan Xichen added, meeting Nie Mingjue’s gaze. “Both their skill and strong code of ethics are well-attested in the cultivation world’s histories.”

“Then you all see her hypocrisy,” Yao-zongzhu cried. “Is she threatening to perform a surgery on this Jin-gongzi?”

Luo Qingyang spoke out in reply. “If he takes her brother and treats those people like they aren’t people, why shouldn't she do the same?”

“Jin-gongzi,” Wei Ying said, sounding chillingly bored. “Why don’t you tell Wen-guniang where her brother is, before anyone in this room gets more agitated.”

Jin Zixun looked to Lan Xichen, to Jin Guangyao, to Jin Guangshan at the head of the room. No one came to his rescue. “Who are you to tell me what to do?” he snapped at Wei Wuxian. “Who are you to side with her in front of all these people?”

“I am Wei Wuxian. If I want to side with someone, who could stop me?”

Jin Zixun revealed that the relevant Wens were being held in a place called Qiongqi Path, and Wen Qing then made it clear she intended to take Jin Zixun with her as a hostage when she went there. Jin Guangshan looked like he’d eaten an unexpectedly sour plum, but seemed prepared to cut Jin Zixun loose. Wen Qing would likely be apprehended and stopped at some point in the unfolding of things – she would have few options even if she managed to get to Qiongqi Path with Jin Zixun, and nowhere to go with her brother if she secured him – but the odds were similarly poor for any hostage that went with her. Jin Zixun seemed aware of all these things and his behavior was growing increasingly distressed in response.

“Don’t worry, Jin-gongzi,” Wei Ying said, in a voice that would have deeply worried anyone. “I will escort you every step of the way.”

“As will I,” Lan Wangji intoned. He would hardly let Wei Ying go alone.

“And I,” Luo Qingyang asserted.

“And I,” Xichen said.

Lan Wangji’s head turned with the majority of the heads in the hall, including a bewildered Wen Qing’s.

“There are Lan sect disciples guarding the camp at Qiongqi Path,” Xichen explained. “I will go to ensure their safety, and to see with my own eyes what’s transpired there.”

Nie Mingue was staring at Xichen, his brow slightly furrowed. “I as well,” he said. “To ensure justice.”

“I will also come, with a group of disciples,” Jiang Wanyin declared.

“Then there is no need to drag me along on this wild hunt,” Jin Zixun wheedled. “This Wen bitch has her pick of hostages.”

“I will have a Jin,” Wen Qing said to Jin Guangshan, ignoring his waste of a nephew entirely. Jin Guangshan stared calculatingly back at her.

“I have better things to do with my time,” Jin Zixun argued back. “I won’t go along with this farce. You’ll have Luo-guniang if you want so badly to kill a member of the Jin sect.”

“Jin Zixun,” Wei Ying barked, hand straying dangerously toward Chenqing, which made Lan Wangji’s heart rise in his throat.

“I will go,” Jin Zixuan said, which stilled both of them.

“Wait,” Jin Guangshan said. He looked worried, now, for the first time. “Everyone, calm down, and we will take our time to discuss this.”

“There’s no need to be hasty,” Jin-furen simpered from beside him.

“I will discuss nothing until Wen Ning is safe in front of me,” Wen Qing replied icily.

“It makes sense. An elder sister will of course feel protective of her brother.” Jin Zixuan stepped forward, glancing over at Luo Qingyang and then at Jiang Yanli as he did so. “We will go without delay, and I will offer myself as a hostage, because I am sure Wen-guniang’s account is not wholly accurate. The truth of the situation will resolve it.”

The looks on Jin Guangyao’s and Jin Guangshan’s faces did not encourage Lan Wangji to agree with him.

Jiang Yanli had made her way silently over to Jiang Wanyin, and her hand curled around her brother’s arm. It seemed she intended to come as well.

It was this eclectic group that left the stunned remainder of the assembly at Glamour Hall and set off for Qiongqi Path. Wen Qing had no sword, so she instructed Jin Zixuan carry her on his. She vowed to kill him if someone tried to move against her, but it was obvious no one would. Despite all manner of vague political excuses, Wei Ying was going to help her recover Wen Qionglin, and the majority of the people in the band were going along to support – or at worst, keep a protective eye on – Wei Ying.

It turned out to be a very good thing they had all made the journey.

The camp was a disgrace. The guards were liars and cowards. Lan Xichen stayed back at the main encampment with the Jiang disciples, holding the Jin sect guards there at the point of Shuoyue. The rest of them proceeded down the slope and found the Wen dead – out in the open and unburied, tangled wherever they lay, half-submerged in water churned muddy by the torrential rain.

Wen Qionglin was among them. The lure flag still protruded from his corpse.

The crimes of the Jin sect were laid bare before them. Jin Zixuan looked as stunned as if someone had snatched his heart from his chest. Lan Wangji believed it was authentic. Jin Zixuan had often seemed to him self-absorbed, but not cruel. He remembered his brother’s words. The uninformed are not guilty. He wondered if he agreed with them. He wondered how anyone could be innocent after this. Luo Qingyang was speechless with fury. She threw her sect robes on the ground and stepped on them, grinding them into the muck. Nie Mingjue had left, gone back to the main encampment, trembling in unstable rage. Lan Wangji wondered what they would find there when they returned. Jiang Yanli wept silently. She had stayed out of the cesspool, but she did not look away. Jiang Wanyin’s face was drawn and pallid. He stared at the dead form of Wen Qionglin with a dull, slow horror. Wen Qing howled.

Lan Wangji was glad. He was glad for the mud. He was glad he was here in the driving rain. He was glad he could stand beside Wei Ying when he tore people apart for this. Because he would, surely. Wei Ying was going to cross many lines tonight, and Lan Wangji was glad he could go with him, without reservation or any regret.

///

Wei Wuxian looked for Lan Zhan through a blinding haze. There would be no healing music today. It was time for another kind, the kind Wei Wuxian played. This wasn’t showing off. This wasn’t a game. This was what he was here for. He found him, finally, and Lan Zhan nodded his infinitesimal agreement.

Wei Wuxian reached for that seething pool within him. It was overeager and insistent on a good day – now it surged over its borders and coursed through him. That would hurt later, as it had before, but he would deal with it then. When this was over, Lan Zhan would take care of him.

He put Chenqing to his lips and began to play.

/////

[So technically that’s the end, and this AU can go wherever you like from there. But if you’re interested in my opinion:

Wen Ning still gets zombified. Wei Wuxian probably doesn’t kill anyone he doesn’t want to kill while he’s doing it. Nie Mingjue doesn’t have a qi deviation.

With the exception of Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue, who have to go back and be Sect Leaders and sworn brothers and play reasonable with the cultivation world, everyone else flees to Lotus Pier with the Wen remnants, and it’s like a third iteration of the increasingly messed up inter-sect summer camps.

Things are a little tense – technically they’re in rebellion against the Chief Cultivator, Jin Guangshan. But he’s not just gonna … march into Lotus Pier and burn it down. What, is he Wen Ruohan? Terrible optics, Jin Guangyao keeps reminding him, especially after this whole torturing-prisoners thing.

(Plus he’s not actually sure he’d be able to, against Wei Wuxian and his amulet. He’s heard some pretty fantastic things out of the generally reasonable mouths of the Lan and Nie sect leaders. He’s not sure what would happen to him or his sect if he went up against that force and failed, and he’d rather not find out.)

Wei Wuxian is still going a little crazy from going all in with the demonic cultivation and working night and day to bring Wen Ning back, but instead of aloneish starving in a cave, he's at Lotus Pier and everyone’s around. He's taken over a pavilion and plastered it with nets and talismans. Lan Wangji doesn't make him stop or sleep if he says he really can't. He does make him listen to Cleansing a lot.

Auntie Wen gets a nice guest room. Fourth Uncle helps refine the lotus wine. A-Yuan is absolutely still a miracle, and he also gets to eat good wholesome food whenever he wants it. Maybe Jiang Cheng is rich-gege this time. Or maybe that’s Jin Zixuan. Lan Wangji can be quiet-gege. He has several amazing jiejies. This new place with all the water is delightful.

Jin Zixuan is there as a ‘hostage’. "Yes, I'm definitely here against my will," he says, making puppy eyes at Jiang Yanli. It does offer Jin Guangshan additional motivation to not attack them.

Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng probably never have to stab each other.

Jiang Cheng spends an awkward amount of time watching Wen Ning be dead-ish. He keeps spending time with him once he’s undead. He’s always liked Wen Ning, some kind of baby sibling solidarity. In the long term, it turns out he did want a gentle admiring Wen sibling to go on dates with, he just started with the wrong one. The ghost general thing does not phase him.

Meanwhile, Wen Qing and Luo Qingyang are getting along like a lakehouse on fire: swimmingly.

Maybe Nie Huaisang saunters up to Lotus Pier about a month in and says ‘I’m here to negotiate, and perhaps to spy, yes, certainly’ when really he’s there to join the others! How could they leave him out! He was at the last two summer camps, and he knows he’s not the most obviously valuable player on their sorts of teams, but he thinks his wit and jovial spirit merit him a return invitation! (“You didn’t even invite me to your wedding, Wei-xiong, Lan-er-xiong.” “Jiang Cheng said I couldn’t because it would make the Jins mad – looks like that was a waste, huh, Jiang Cheng? We should have had a rude and extravagant affair after all.”)

I couldn’t really get any of this into the fic itself because I’m not trying to write a 100k epic, it had to end, but I’m attempting to eat my cake too by putting it all here.

I’m not sure how it might unfold after that, but my preferred interpretation is that everything generally turns out better. In canon, Wei Wuxian’s disruption of the banquet at Jinlintai is extremely scorched-earth, but in this scenario where Wei Wuxian doesn’t have to be the one throwing fighting words at the Jin sect and Jin Guangshan doesn’t have an opportunity to really demand the Yin Tiger Amulet, it might at least leave the door open for an eventual resumption of friendly relations between Wei Wuxian/the Jiangs and the Jins. Jin Guangshan can throw Jin Zixun under the bus and come out clean in the prisoner debacle, and if he’s frustrated the Jiangs now have ‘custody’ of the Wens and his sect has lost its elite status and his window for removing the Yin Tiger Amulet from a weakly-positioned Wei Wuxian is closing … there’s not much he can do about it.

And if he starts to take those frustrations out on the only son left in his house and/or he gets a little (self)destructive in his attempts to recoup power, and Jin Guangyao becomes his best self by committing patricide before he gets set up to marry his sister and then quitting while he’s ahead … I don’t think anyone’s going to complain. Jin Zixuan might be a little sad. Jiang Yanli can comfort him.]

[itsclydebitches]

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

Hi, anon!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[xenoredux]

Balto but its been rewritten 24 years after its release

Okay so here's the Balto rewrite lol. It's quite a bit different then The Actual Thing but the plot itself is much the same, as are the major beats of the story. I dropped a lotta goofy shit in there just because it made me laugh, but try and imagine this stuff happening as if it's from an actual 90s movie made by a studio on its last legs.

Some things to know going into it:

I cut out the live actions segments because they seriously didn't matter at all. Like, who cares. The plot is fine without them and I don't think that one line from Rosie at the end makes a huge difference. I guess it's nice to see the statue but even than it's like..... whatever

In my fantasy world, Balto was a standalone movie that didn't spark any sequels. Eventually I'll write out my version of the sequels if they'd actually been good, but in the universe of this rewrite for this film, a Balto "franchise" never existed, hence why the ending is sorta different

It's still a "historical" fiction that holds very little relation to the actual events. There's a touch more actual history in there, but c'mon. You're not reading talking dog movie fanfic to learn anything. Pick up a book if you care about the actual serum run and don't get on my juicy ass about it if some things remain inaccurate

Please also note that I didn't baby this as much as I should have, so some major plot elements that are kinda stupid are likely still in there (I'm not a good writer lbr). I don't believe this is necessarily "better" then the OG, I just tweaked some stuff that always pissed me off about it. I also re-included cut content I thought was more interesting and made more sense then what we ended up getting. 

There's also a handful of fake screenshots throughout for shits and giggles, and I'll likely have at least one or two more to share later this month. Some links to past character designs are also provided for easy reference so you can make up scenes in your head but with Brand Spankin’ New Designz.

So here's Balto v2.0!

The year is 1925, and it's wintertime in Nome, Alaska. Two dogsled teams are participating in a race. A malamute named Steele leads his team against a powerful, but older and more experienced mutt named Wild Joe. Steele, despite being a decorated and much beloved champion lead dog, is a massive dick, and he snaps at a critical moment at one of Joe's teammates. Joe's team wipes out, his chances of winning are in shambles, and Steele is waaay in the lead.

A flare is shot into the air to let the enthused waiting townsfolk know that Steele's team has passed the race's 3 mile mark. Meanwhile, watching from his perch on the balcony of a house, a wolfdog named Balto excitedly bounds back and forth, unable to contain his excitement. He simply cannot sit still despite the protests of his closest friend Boris, an old Russian-Jewish goose who isn't a fan of all the excitement. Balto drags Boris around the roofs of the houses, ignoring his chiding all the while, until he can see the finish line of the race.

Back down on Earth, a young girl named Rosie is inside a woodworker's shop. She's receiving a gift she adores: a beautiful handmade sled, perfectly fitted to her size. The sled includes a harness in front that also perfectly fits her dog, a purebred copper Siberian husky named Jenna. Rosie's parents playfully lecture her to not lose the sled like she loses her other belongings. Almost as quickly as she receives the sled, Rosie and Jenna are trotting down the street in their new getup.

Jenna comes to rest in the race's sidelines among a group of other female dogs. The smallest of them all, a Pomeranian named Dixie, chides Jenna for allowing herself to be made a sled dog, even if it is in the spirit of make believe. After all, a canine of her slender frame and social standing shouldn't be performing manual labor. Jenna sighs at her friend's internalized misogyny and eugenics talk, rolling her eyes as if to say "oh you!"

Nor should someone of her persuasion be meeting up with any strays, Dixie continues while going on to show her racist side, for Balto and Boris have just plodded up to the group. The other girls scoff and huff at Balto's arrival, but Jenna and Rosie both are glad to see him. Rosie gives the wolfdog a hug, telling him to keep outta sight of The Parental Units. Just then, Steele's team rounds the corner, and Rosie waves her hat at them as if it's a foam finger and this is the most arduous baseball game in history. A sudden gust of wind picks up her hat and sweeps it into the path of the oncoming team. Rosie begins to panic and, while Jenna soothes her, Balto runs out alongside the advancing sled team to retrieve it.

Balto manages to snag and deliver the hat before Steele passes the finish line, which visibly upsets Steele. His owner speaks to the man who leads Wild Joe's team. He seems unimpressed with Steele's performance, enough so that Wild Joe's owner admits it's likely time that Joe was retired. The two imply that if a sled dog can't even outrun Steele, it's time for him to hang up his harness, even if he is wearing a bitchin' little number they speak in awe of called "A Golden Collar", a veritable necklace of medals awarded to sled dogs who have proven they don't suck. As one can imagine, this pisses Steele off something fierce. He gazes into the reflection of his face in his own golden collar, getting a bit of anger-saliva on it in the process.

The important thing, of course, is that Balto managed to save Rosie's hat. Jenna thanks him and playfully teases him about how nuts he'd have to be to do something like run alongside a car made of dogs, to which the quiet Balto just smiles. Rosie's dad isn't smiling very much, though, because all he saw was the town's favorite punching bag running wild with his daughter's hat. He swears at Balto and kicks snow his way, spooking him into running off down the street. Rosie's dad herds his child away, scolding her for playing with wild animals, while Jenna tries to follow her friend. Unable to recognize where he's not wanted, Steele blocks Jenna's path and starts flexing about his elite gamer/sledding skills. The other girl dogs can barely contain their ovaries around him, but Jenna just politely excuses herself as Steele begins spouting off insensitive remarks about "the howler from the cannery".

But Balto's not going home just yet. He knows exactly how to navigate the neighborhood and find his companion. Boris complains about the cold and how much he's walked around today, so he pisses off back to to their place. Balto simply shrugs and wanders until he finds Jenna again. He trails behind her, hiding in various places along the street as Jenna follows her masters home. Jenna talks passionately about how she'd love to do something big and hella just to show up guys like Steele. Balto encouragingly comments on how he's sure she'd be the best at whatever she did, and she smiles at him in a particularly heterosexual way.

Eventually the two part ways, and Balto decides it's time to go home. As he trots along, he notices a glove that Rosie dropped. He smiles and rolls his eyes as he picks it up and turns to head to Jenna's and give it back. Unfortunately for him, Steele's ego bruises like a banana and heals just about as well, so the meat-headed malamute has dragged along his team to harass the town's token minority once he was alone. The only dog on the team who seems against harassing someone for something they can't control is Star, Steele's smaller, weaker, more cowardly little brother. Steele jeers at Star for being too much of a puss to participate in the g-rated hate crime before rolling a barrel in Balto's direction. Balto's bowled over by it and falls face first into a bucket.

Steele's team howls with laughter, then literally howls in an effort to insult Balto. The words "howler" and "feral" are thrown around a lot as Balto struggles to free his face from the pail. He never manages to, and before Steele can harass him some more, his musher calls out for him and the rest of the team. Steele calls his men to his side and makes his way out. The only one who trails behind is Star, who gingerly pops the bucket off of Balto's head. The two stare wordlessly at each other for a moment, the stunned Balto dwarfing the underdeveloped Star, before Star gets too scared to stay any longer and books it. Balto looks around himself for Rosie's mitten, but he can't find it. He sighs and begins heading towards the harbor.

As Balto walks through the cannery, the other stray and unloved dogs take notice of him and begin jeering at him. Despite how pitiful-looking they are, almost all of them feel the need to tell Balto in livid detail about just how shit he is in comparison because of his wolf heritage. Those who don't jeer hateful words hole up and hide from him as he passes them by.

Boris takes notice of Balto returning home, and he goes to wave to him with his one good wing before noticing something peculiar on the hill by the shoreline: wolves! A small pack of wolves take notice of Balto. They even begin howling to him. It's clear that they're inviting him to join their DnD party, and for a tense moment Boris is afraid Balto will run after them. But Balto simply shrinks away, shaking his head. His shoulders slump and he makes his way to the wrecked boat he and Boris live on.

Boris attempts to cheer Balto up with some wAcKy SlApStIcK cOmEdY before having to realize that harming himself is increasingly silly ways will not cure Balto's bigotry induced depression. He slumps against Balto as the two notice a flock of geese flying overhead. Balto asks Boris what it was like in "the old country", and Boris soothes in the most Russian voice ever conceived what are likely concerns he's heard many times before by assuring Balto he came to Alaska for good reason because the old country sucked. He also assures Balto that the busted wing he has was the best thing that ever happened to him, because it meant he got to live in Nome and find that lonely wolfdog kid those several years back. Balto can't help but crack a smile.

When the sun has gone down, Balto begins to leave the hovel he calls home. Boris reminds him to be careful on his nightly excursion to find food, to which Balto merely smiles and nods. He pads past the sleeping cannery dogs and back towards town.

Meanwhile, Jenna is sitting outside of the hospital doorway. She watches as her masters lead Rosie inside. Rosie's gotten a nasty cough, and she makes an odd wheezing noise when she breathes. As mom and pop speak to the very busy doctor, Rosie gazes out the window at Jenna, waving and smiling at her. Jenna stands up excitedly, but feels her heart sink into her stomach as Rosie has the sort of coughing fit a Flintstone's chewable can't fix. Her parents come to lead her away from the window. Jenna tries her damnedest to find a way to peer inside from around the back. There is a window, but she's unable to reach it, even as she's standing on her hind legs.

Balto, dirty from digging around in garbage, spots Jenna's vibrant red coat from across the way. He calls out to her softly, and though she does acknowledge his greeting, she barely responds. This concerns Balto, and he comes to join her under the window. She explains that she wants to see in, and Balto allows her to climb up and stand on his back to do so. She obliges, too worried about Rosie's well-being to thank him, and gazes longingly inside.

She climbs down from Balto a beat later, saying how she wishes she could understand what was happening in there. Most of what went on was just the doctor talking. Balto pauses and thinks for a moment, and then tells Jenna he has an idea. He leads her around to the boiler room placed adjunct to the hospital where the doctor's dog, a St. Bernard appropriately named Doc, spends his nights. The two make their way inside.

Doc is in fact there, snoring like a buzz-saw on crack. Balto gently wakes him up, and at first he's both annoyed to be woken and offput by The Wolfdog being in his face, but when Jenna explains the situation to him he becomes much more amiable. He leads the two over to the crawlspace under the hospital, stating there's far too much of him to love to allow him to fit under with them. Balto and Jenna thank him and go inside.

The two creep through the creepy underside of the hospital until they find themselves under a grate beneath the doctor's desk. The doctor discusses with the nurses how the children of Nome have diphtheria, a fast acting, aggressive disease that causes fatal epidemics. The anti-toxin he was able to treat the first few cases with has run out, and without it, all infected children will surely die within two weeks' time.

Jenna is unsurprisingly distraught at the idea of her favorite person on the planet dying a slow, painful death, so she scrambles out of the crawlspace and begins crying. Balto follows close behind her to see that Doc has already begun to comfort her. He apologizes for bringing Jenna here, to which Jenna states she's glad he did. Aside from Jenna's gentle sobbing, all is silent for a moment. Suddenly, a loud crash can be heard outside. Everyone turns to see Steele and his dogs have come back to ruin another scene. Doc becomes upset at the sudden influx of uninvited guests crowding up his personal space, so he goes to alert the doctor and get them all the fuck outta there. Meanwhile, the team menaces Balto while Steele tries to impress Jenna by pulling Rosie's missing mitten out of his collar. He offers to walk Jenna home to deliver it to her family as the team, lead by a pitifully unintimidating Star, back a snarling Balto into the corner.

Jenna's obviously not interested in Dog Gaston's posturing, but she's also got an IQ higher then 6 and understands that he's not going to go away simply because she asks him to. As Balto watches from out the corner of his eye, Jenna flirtatiously backs Steele into the glowing red boiler. She mutters something about meatballs under her breath as Steele begins to howl and shriek in pain. The smell of burning dog ass and the cries of a defeated jock archetype alert people to the scene, and all the dogs begin to scatter. Balto and Jenna try to join the reverse flash mob, but Steele flings himself hard into Balto and forces all of them to stumble. Lanterns shine in the literal dogpile's direction. Steele refuses to get off of Balto, so Balto insists that Jenna get away. She forgets about Rosie's mitten, which Balto snags to keep away from Steele's posturing self, and the men finally descend upon the dogs.

Someone pulls Steele off of Balto, and he begins making as if he's injured, intentionally limping and stumbling melodramatically around. The men start to make a fuss about the wolfdog injuring the town's best runner when one of them, Rosie's dad, notices his daughter's missing mitten in Balto's mouth. He begins yelling and kicking at the dog, going on about how he's dangerous and he'd better not go anywhere near his child ever again. Balto tucks tail and barrels out of town, and all the men stroke a miraculously healed Steele to compensate for the trauma of being attacked by a dog half his size.

As Balto pounds pavement, he passes the telegraph office, wherein an important message is being sent. A request for more anti-toxin to treat the epidemic is being relayed, and in it are the details of why this situation is uniquely urgent: the Alaskan winter is doing its worst, bringing blizzards severe enough that ships and planes alike cannot manage to deliver the medicine. Nome's best bet becomes obvious: use a train to deliver the medicine as closely to Nome as they can, then set up relay teams of sled dogs to receive and deliver the anti-toxin.

The morning after the message has been sent, the town organizes a race to test which dogs in town have the highest stats in stamina, speed, and agility. Almost every husky in town is lined up to race... all except a very upset Jenna, who keeps insisting the other dogs make room for her. Some dogs look at her with concern. Others laugh. But most of them seem convinced that her place is here in Nome, keeping her people company and not chipping any of her nails. Dixie tries to lead Jenna away from the race, but Jenna's so pissed that she angrily stomps away from the race altogether.

Balto, who has been hiding around town this whole time, slips out of the shadows to meet her. She vents loudly to him about being disallowed to participate because of the snot-nosed chauvinists running the race. If Balto didn't know the depth of her conviction before, he certainly does now; she begins to cry angry tears over what will happen to Rosie.

Balto can't stand to see a grown womandog cry, but he's worried about what will happen if he tries to line up with the other dogs. Everyone believes he attacked Steele, after all. Nobody would tolerate him joining the race... at least, not while they're all there. He wordlessly slips away from Jenna, assuring her he has a plan. In a moment he's disappeared. The race is about to start, and Boris has hobbled into town. He goes over to Jenna and begins complaining about how Balto didn't come home last night. Jenna tells him it's a long story, but that she's sure he'll turn up again soon. Maybe. Hopefully.

The starting gun is fired off, and the dogs take off with the speed and accuracy of drunken Nascar drivers. Just as soon as they've all bolted, Balto boltos past the starting line right in tow, which causes some reasonable upset among the crowd given word of Steele's definitely-real-not-made-up scuffle with the wolfdog has spread fast.

Despite the jeering Balto is faced with, he continues on. By this point, Jenna and Boris have noticed him running, and they begin to cheer him on as they scramble to keep up with him. Turns out wolves and their relatives are pretty fast.

In contrast to the other dogs, Balto's saving grace isn't just his speed, but his ingenuity. Balto breaks off of the track as he begins advancing on the dogs in an effort to avoid their snarling and snapping at him. He shows his cleverness by traversing obstacles like frozen ponds, hanging pulleys, and crumbling wooden beams that bridge buildings, all while maintaining pace with the other dogs. Any townsfolk who are capable of seeing him are too impressed with his abilities to remember his alleged attempted dogmurder.

To the surprise of literally nobody reading this, Balto manages to cross the finish line before anybody else, which includes an especially tilted Steele. Unexpectedly, several townsfolk cheer for our parkour-loving protagonist, and Balto's face lights up in pleasure, having never experienced praise from basically any human person.

Steele and Wild Joe's mushers come around to give Balto the once over, discussing how he'd be an invaluable asset to any team. Joe's musher believes he'd made a good replacement for Joe now that that dog's been laid off of his animaljob. Balto ingratiates his coy self with a gentle tail wag, and Steele has literally never been more angry in his life. His ego as sore as a freshly kicked-in face, Steele looks around for some way to prove Balto is totes nasty. A toothy grin spreads across his face as he spots Jenna leading a hobbling Boris over, and he quickly rushes the goose and snags him up, carrying him away.

Balto doesn't like seeing his surrogate feathered father being doghandled, so he snarls and chases after Steele, startling the men. The men follow Balto, who is following Steele, who is following his own evil agenda. Steele tosses Boris off the nearby harbor, and the bird struggles to collect himself in the icy water. Balto rushes Steele, still snarling. This spooks Steele's musher, and he begins throwing rocks at Balto. The man tells the wolfdog to stay away from his animal, and he states to Wild Joe's musher why Balto would be useless as a sled dog: he can't manage to get along with other canines. He's too wild. The two men collect Steele and depart as Balto similarly collects Boris, who is little more then a honking popsicle by now.

As Balto begins carrying Boris home, Jenna stops him and asks what happened. Balto gruffly states that Jenna's master would be angry to see her speaking to him. After all, he doesn't get along with other dogs given how wild he is. Jenna is so surprised by her friend lashing out at her that she can't speak, and she watches solemnly and wordlessly as Balto and Boris make like Rosie's health and disappear.

That night, the relay teams are being dispatched. The electric cross hanging on the church steeple is turned on - the pastor says that so long as there's hope for the children, the light will stay lit and the electric bill will stay high - and a handful of teams are sent out, including Steele's. The sick children watch from inside the hospital. Jenna watches from her new favorite spot just under one of the hospital's front windows, her face contorted in worry. From his ship, Balto ignores Boris's cacophanic snoring as he watches the teams head out. He gives a sigh.

A day passes as the relay teams power through the awful weather. Steele's team receives the medicine from another team who just had it delivered to them by train. Now Steele's gang is intended to deliver the medicine once again to the team of a dog named Togo. Unfortunately, Steele's unwarranted self-importance prevents this, as he dislikes the idea of not being the guy to deliver the goods to town. He tells Star that he doesn't need to follow the rules of the relay - he knows the way home and he can do this himself. He intentionally ignores the path to Togo and drags his team helplessly onward, and none of them but Star are any the wiser.

The governor's dog calls a meeting in the boiler room for all the other dogs in town. It's been longer then the townsfolk expected it to take for the meds to arrive, and everyone is getting ants in their collective pants. Balto watches the meeting from outside a window to maintain some discreetness. Doc tries to calm everybody down once they begin panicking, but they're all too much in a tizzy thinking about what will happen to the kids to hear him. Suddenly, the rabbling of the crowd is halted when a sharp, reverberating bark cuts through the noise. Everyone turns to the door.

In the doorframe stands the tall, bulky silhouette of an unknown beefcake. The dog steps into the light, and Wild Joe finally announces his presence verbally and not just cinematically. He informs the dogs that he's had a lot of time to wander since being unharnessed, and tonight he wandered by the telegraph office. He's a gifted enough fella to understand Morse code and the hopeless sighs of an old man sending 1800s text messages, and he informs the dogs that Steele's team broke the relay chain. Nobody knows where they are, which means, more importantly, nobody knows where the medicine is. Wild Joe suggests that the dogs make peace with the passing of their childfolk before he steps back outside and disappears into the snowy night.

Whatever the dogs inside the boiler room are saying, Balto can't hear it. Not just because their voices are drowning each other out, but because he's stricken with too much grief to care. Rosie has only been getting worse. What's going to happen to her?

Meanwhile in the hospital, the doctor is managing as well as one can to explain to the parents of the sick children that their one hope of salvation may or may not be lost to the elements forever. This barely registers with the horribly ill Rosie who, despite being in the same room as a doctor forcing her parents to confront her mortality, is now too sick to lift her head from her pillow. In an effort to afford their child a sliver of comfort, Rosie's folks allows Jenna into her room. Jenna pads loyally over to her girl, and for just a second Rosie's eyes flutter open. "Jenna?" is all she can manage to wheeze out before passing back into unconsciousness. Jenna gloomily rests her head on her owner's chest, whimpering softly.

Balto pads through town. Nobody is really out at night anymore. They're all crowding the hospital to keep close to their children. Balto's main goal is to find Jenna, to discuss this horrible thing with her, but he's distracted as he passes by the woodworker's shop. The same jolly man who had made Rosie her bitchin' new sled was now hunched sadly over a new, much less bitchin', much more morbid project: tiny coffins, each no bigger then 4 feet tall. A small collection of them has formed in a corner of the room. Balto shakes his head and gasps, breaking out of a stupor he was not previously aware he was in. Something has to be done.

The morning sun is peaking out over the horizon when Balto begins to depart from his home. He trots down from the harbor and along the shoreline, aiming to enter the forest the teams left through. Boris is plodding behind him, slipping around on frozen patches of sea water and flopping around in puddles of slush. He's going on and on, trying desperately to convince Balto not to waste his efforts on a town of people who'd be perfectly happy if he were dead. Balto doesn't reply, instead flashing Boris a solemn look. His eyes light up with new intention, and he grabs Boris by the beak, dragging him along as the old goose honks angrily.

Balto releases Boris as the two come to the back of the hospital. Jenna, who had once again settled out front, hears the commotion of the intensely pissed off bird wailing and honking. Balto wordlessly releases Boris, and just before Boris can complain further, Jenna comes over to the two. She and Balto share one miserable, knowing look before Jenna begins to cry. She presses her face into Balto's neck, weeping softly into his fur. Another child is herded into the hospital by a concerned parent. The girl wheezes and shakes violently as the door closes behind her. Boris looks on, all anger having subsided. 

Instead, he says in a very business-like tone that Balto needs to hurry up if he's going to find the lost team. And he shouldn't keep Boris waiting. Boris is an old man who hates waiting more then he hates traveling. Boris begins to waddle off back towards the forest, and Balto can't help but smile. Jenna presses the pause button on crying long enough to ask what Boris means, to which Balto states that neither he nor his old man can stand idly by any longer.

Jenna understands, and she insists that the two allow her to come with them. It pains her to leave Rosie, but the child is barely ever awake at this point, and inaction won't make the situation better. Balto's smile grows wider, and the three take off to find the missing team themselves.

Hours pass. The three haven't ceased their journey, nor does it seem they've given up hope. Boris certainly has got a lot to bitch about, though. And he does this loudly and frequently as Balto and Jenna lead the way, exchanging words. Jenna vents about how it's ludicrous that Steele, a gloryhound who loves the smell of his own farts, was even selected to do the relay given how hard he is to handle. Balto agrees, if a bit softly. Jenna interrogates him gingerly, asking what happened the day of the race. Balto admits that the townsfolk have gone even more sour on him as of late, and that he's been genuinely afraid to be around anybody now... except for Jenna, of course. Jenna reassures him with the same viciously heterosexual smile as before that she'll stand by him no matter what. Balto can't help but smile back.

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the frozen over Hell that is Alaska, Steele is blindly trying to redirect his team onto the trail, but the trail has long gone from his sight. Star, exhausted and growing antsier by the minute, suggests turning around and going back; it's totally obvious now that they're lost. Steele buckles for just a moment before snapping at his brother about how he knows where he's going and, having just told the worst lie in history, begins running directionlessly through the blizzard.

Expectedly, this sends his team careening down into a gully he failed to notice on account of the whole reduced visibility thing. The sled tips over - though it seems the anti-toxin is still secured and unbroken - the musher falls out and hits his head on a rock, and the dogs tumble into a heap. Some of them are bruised. Some of them are worse. But nobody is dead, not even the flame dancing inside the musher's lantern. The only thing that looks dead is Steele's spirit. He stares wide eyed and panting as he realizes the team truly is lost. "What are we gonna do now, Steele?" Star asks hopelessly. Steele doesn't respond.

Night has fallen. It's cold as shit out in the forest, but the three musketeers haven't ceased their journeying yet. Boris, effectively feeding into every stereotype about old men ever, complains about how long this road trip has lasted. Neither Balto nor Jenna have the energy left to respond to him, so they don't. Boris gets huffy and says the kids can keep going if they want, but it's time for him to sleep. He decides to set up a nest on a large snowdrift, and Balto finally gets frustrated and turns to explain to Boris that there's no time to stop now. And then the snowdrift stands up.

A polar bear, hulking and powerful, is standing on its hind legs in front of the dogs. A screaming Russian goose is flapping around on the crown of its head, and the bear immediately begins trying to attack its winged hat. Balto leaps to his grandhonk's rescue, but the bear lands an easy hit on him and sends him flying. The goose isn't nearly as threatening as the wolfdog, so the bear turns to Balto, ready to tear him to pieces.

This understandably displeases Jenna, and she flings herself headlong into the bear to save her friends. She's more lithe and agile then Balto is, which makes it easy for her to dodge most of the bear's swings, but she's not as quick as Balto is, so she still ends up taking a pretty nasty blow to the legs. She flies across the forest floor and strikes Boris, knocking them both to the ground. Meanwhile, Balto's trying to deal with the bear situation on his own. He's not doing so hot, though, as the bear makes like a 90s sitcom bully and starts wailing on him. This sends Balto careening down a hill and across a frozen lake.

The bear quickly follows him. It doesn't seem to notice the ice below it cracking like splintering glass as it walks towards Balto, but Balto sure as hell does. And so do Jenna and Boris, who, despite their injuries, are scrambling to reach Balto before the ice gives. But they're too little too late. The bear takes another step and the busted ice snap crackle pops apart, taking the bear under as it shatters. Balto stumbles away from the gaping icehole that's growing larger and larger.

The bear is thrashing wildly around, foaming up the water and swinging its claws around in the air. Boris thinks fast and grabs Jenna's bandanna to toss out to Balto. As the bear struggles to grab both Balto and the edge of the ice, Balto snags hold of the bandanna and hangs on as his friends drag him from the freezing water. As Balto collapses to the ground, the bear's struggles begin to subside, and finally it drowns.

Balto is badly shaken, but ultimately unharmed. Jenna, however, bit total shit, and now that Balto is safe her strength has left her. Balto and Boris drag Jenna off the lake and lay her down. Balto lays down beside her, shivering hard from his time in the water. Without thinking about it, Jenna pulls herself on top of him, murmuring about how cold he is. Balto tries to argue she should go easy given her injury, but the two go silent instead, smiling gently at each other. Then Balto's eyes light up as he turns to Boris. He thanks the bird for not just saving him, but for coming along in the first place. Boris absolutely beams.

But his grin disappears when the dogs get up... and Jenna falls back down. Balto insists she's too hurt to continue the journey. After all, who knows when they'll find the team? Jenna tries to argue, but falters when Balto insists that without her help he'd be dead now, and he'd be devastated if something happened to her out here. Jenna asks Boris to take her back to Nome when she notices that he's waddled a short distance away. He's gazing intently at something, looking worried and guilty. Balto pads over to where Boris is staring into space to see what the fuss is about.

Turns out the fuss is about two hairy little things: twin polar bear cubs. One is slightly bigger then the other, though he may just be bigger boned then his brother. The two are huddled close to each other, whimpering and cooing. It's obvious they're very young, toddlers at most. "Oh no," murmurs Balto. The cubs gaze up at the two with wide, frightened eyes. Nobody has to guess what happened to their mother, and Balto feels himself overwhelmed with guilt too.

The cubs follow Boris closely as Balto goes back to Jenna. He tells her that he's sorry she can't continue the journey, but that she can help by keeping the bear cubs safe until they know what to do with them. Jenna agrees and the two smile warmly at each other. Jenna offers up her bandanna to Balto "to keep him warm" despite how small it is as Boris helps her onto a large tree branch. Boris begins instructing the cubs on how to help, going demanding grandad on them in record time, and Jenna wishes Balto good luck. Boris pulls Balto aside and, out of obligation to the source material, tells Balto that a dog cannot make such a journey alone... but maybe a wolf can. The group depart, leaving Balto by himself in the snow.

It's a snowy night in Nome. A somber mood hangs so thickly in the air that one can almost taste the chunky sadness. The streets are empty aside from one stray black mass. It's Wild Joe, makin' his way downtown. He passes the hospital and sees a child who is obviously ill but not in bed. Joe's face crinkles in pain as the child, a boy, coughs so hard he wracks his body in great tremors. Joe pulls himself away from the sight and, face to the ground, starts walking faster. In a moment he passes the telegraph office. His ears perk rhythmically to the beeps of the morse code. He whispers sweet nothings to himself like, "Cannot send more antitoxin. Weather too severe. Lost sled team only hope. Our prayers are with them."

Meanwhile, in a somehow less depressing part of the Alaskan tundra, Balto has finally caught sight of a glowing pink light. The wind is too hard for him to smell properly, but as he mounts a rise in the path, he can see clearly what rests at the bottom of the slope. It's the team! The pink glow is the light from the sled's lantern. Balto's so beside himself with joy that he throws himself headlong down the slope, previously unaware of how slippery the embankment really was. He only just manages to gain his footing at the bottom of the hill. The sled dogs look up at him in amazement, unfurling themselves from the miserable balls of fur they'd tried desperately to wrap themselves in. "Balto!" is heard in a wave of gasps.

Balto begins asking a slew of questions. What happened, is the musher okay, etc. etc. Everyone does their best to answer. Everyone, that is, except Steele, who has been sulking wordlessly since Balto arrived. Once he's gotten a satisfactory amount of info on the situation, Balto picks up one of the now empty harnesses on the sled and tells the dogs he can lead them home. Steele is none too pleased with this, and he steps on the harness, jerking it out of Balto's mouth. Steele insists the dogs will be able to find their way home by themselves - after all, he's leading them.

Everyone immediately becomes uncomfortable as the tension rises. Balto shrugs, assures Steele that he can do as he likes, but that the kids need the anti-toxin and they need it now. Balto knows the way back for certain, so he'd be happy to just take the medicine. Steele just about goes batshit at the suggestion, crouching over the crate of medicine like a wild animal, snarling at Balto. He threatens to rip Balto to pieces if he so much as tries to touch the crate. Someone tells Steele to lighten up, and Steele just about shits himself.

He flings himself headlong into Balto, telling him to get out and leave them be. In the scuffle, the medicine crate is tipped over, where it begins sliding down a tiny incline towards a cliff's edge. Balto eyes it nervously and tries to get to it, but Steele continually throws himself at Balto, snapping and snarling and threatening. The other dogs begin telling Steele to stop, that Balto isn't worth it. Star suggests that maybe just this once the howler might be useful, so the team might want to listen to him. Balto looks Steele dead in the eyes and tells him that children are going to die if everyone can't be all kumbaya for a second.

Steele sneers eerily and simple states that he doesn't care. And with that, he outright flings himself into Balto, tearing into him viciously enough to send him whimpering in pain. The fight halts for just a moment as Steele looks down at the wolfdog, who is now battered and bleeding. Steeles give a triumphant huff and bares his fangs before he notices something. The other dogs are advancing on him. They've stopped their gawking long enough to realize that Steele's intentions haven't just soured. They were never good in the first place. The medicine crate continues its gradual trip down the incline.

Steele is spooked by the dogs encircling him, and he demands they get away from him and back into their harnesses. Meanwhile, Balto, despite his injuries, has wormed his way over to the escaping crate of anti-death juice, finally securing it between his paws. Star turns and notices this, praising him. The other dogs gaze over at him too, finally realizing he's probably an okay guy actually. If Steele was angry before, he's furious now. He leaps over the hoard of dogs that had formed a tight circle around him and barrels at Balto and the medicine, screaming for the wolfdog to let it go. Balto quickly shoves the medicine away from the cliff as Steele snags him by the bandanna. The two dogs teeter totter on the side of the cliff before the bandanna rips in half. Steele unceremoniously falls off the cliff's edge, tumbling down into the valley below.

Balto cringes at the sight as Steele refuses to get up from his epic fail landing. Still, there's no time to lose. Balto hobbles over to the sled, surprised to find the other dogs are securing themselves in their harnesses. All except three, that is. One dog, a Chinook by the name of Kaltag, notices an especially icky wound on Balto's leg, and he uses what remains of Jenna's bandanna to wrap it. Another dog, a chow mix named Nikki, is placing the musher in the sled. The man's in rough shape, but he's still alive. Finally Balto takes his place at the head of the team, where Star is holding the harness up for him. Balto slips into it, and it fits like a glove. He takes a moment to breathe and marvel at the situation.

The dog sled takes off again. As it departs, a couple of white paws grapple their way up the cliff's edge. Steele hoists himself out of the valley. He's bruised all over, but he's alive, and he's none too happy. He wastes no time. He tucks the remains of Jenna's bandanna into his collar and begins rushing after the dogs. The guy may be bulky and injured, but he's full of enough rage adrenaline (ragedrenaline?) to overpower an elephant's higher thinking, and he's not slowing down til the sled has stopped.

It doesn't take long for Steele to catch up to Balto. He tells Balto to stop the sled and leave the team alone, but Balto insists Steele doesn't know the way. The other dogs all but tell Steele to fuck off given they've seen what kind of person he is, but Steele doesn't care. He pulls out a handy dandy trick he's been itching to repeat since the beginning of this summary and snaps at Balto's legs, tripping him up. Balto regains his footing quickly enough so as not to slow down the team, but oh no! A moment later, Steele snaps again, this time grabbing Balto's injured ankle.

The wolfdog can't recover so easily from that, and he falls over. The team goes tripping and spilling across the icy forest floor. Steele allows himself to fall behind and watch the destruction unfold. The team is barreling towards another cliff's edge, and Balto's meager frame isn't enough to cancel out the laws of inertia. Balto slides out of his harness as the other dogs try to stall their descent, finally bringing everything to a standstill as the crate of medicine teeters on the cliff's edge.

Balto dives forward and snags the crate, and the team praises him... seconds before the cliff's edge starts to crumble. As the rock breaks to pieces beneath his feet, Balto and the antitoxin fall into the snowy abyss below. "Aaaaaa," is how Kevin Bacon put it.

The next morning, everyone is abuzz is Nome. The people even pull themselves away from their sick kids in the excitement, curious to see what's happening. Something has arrived, though it's not the medicine. The dogs are equally riveted, huddled in the boiler room to discuss their own canine-centric news.  Turns out Jenna returned home the previous night, aided by two polar bear cubs and a goose. The dogs prattle on excitedly, asking a weary Jenna all about her journey. But, in all honesty, they seem most concerned with how - and further, why - Jenna would ever be brave or foolish enough to pair with a howler while on a wild goose/dog/plot chase.

Jenna tiredly begins to explain what happened, why the goose and bears were there, etc. when a ruckus can be heard outside. The dogs all look up, but nobody gets up. Not yet. A few moments pass, and then the door, which has been only halfway open up to this point, swings open in full. Standing in the doorway is Togo's team, along with an exhausted looking Steele. Togo remarks that they found the dumb jock wandering delirious through the cold. He was just lucky enough to meander past their relay station. Togo shrugs and leaves the room.

Everyone immediately starts flipping shit again, asking a new flurry of questions so loudly they drown each other out. Finally, Steele breaks the silence by asking "Where's Jenna?" Everyone goes quiet and looks over at the token girl husky. Steele pads over to the middle of the room, looking at Jenna but speaking to everyone, as he explains in a voice so sincere it's sickening that his team died in the cold. Balto did in fact find him, the last dog alive, but all he cared about was taking the anti-toxin away. Balto never meant well, Steele asserts, his chest heaving with every passionate word. All he wanted to do was get back at the town for turning its back on him! Everyone gasps except Jenna and a stoic figure sitting in the corner of the room.

Steele says that Balto took the anti-toxin and, in a desperate effort to get revenge on Nome for never accepting his boorish, violent ways, threw it and himself over the edge of a cliff. The medicine, and presumably every bone in the wolfdog's body, shattered on impact. Why, Steele even tried heroically to stop Balto from this suicide mission by grabbing him by Jenna's bandanna, but... He punctuates his speech by handing Jenna the remains of her neckerchief. She gapes at it.

Steele says that this has been a tragedy for certain, but all the dogs must band together and be strong. Heck, he even generously offers to be a shoulder for Jenna to cry on in her time of need. Such a noble guy, that Steele. Except Jenna has a finely tuned 6th sense she uses solely to detect bullshit, and it's going crazy right now. She tells Steele to his face that she knows he's lying. Balto isn't violent. In fact, the primary reason he left to find the team was to save the children. To save Rosie.

The dogs in the crowd begin to murmur among themselves, but Steele casually states that it's such a shame the wolfdog managed to manipulate Jenna so efficiently that she honestly never saw him going feral, never considered his more selfish motives. Steele reminds the room of dogs that Balto attacked him several times before the relay teams were dispatched. Everyone seems a bit swayed by the reminder.

Everyone's trains of thoughts are prevented from actually leaving the station by the dog in the corner clearing his throat. Surprise surprise, the mysterious guy in the shadows was Wild Joe, resident lurker. Steele almost looks intimidated as the dog pads over to him. Joe basically goes off on Steele, detailing how it's hard to believe a dog who has proven himself violent for the sake of winning, is mysteriously the only dog out of about 15 to survive, and thinks himself a hero despite failing to bring back even one ounce of medicine. Everyone is silent as Joe and Steele glare daggers at each other.

Steele huffs at Joe and leaves the room, stating that he won't be insulted this way after having had such a traumatic experience. The dogs watch Steele go, then look at Joe and Jenna, then awkwardly begin to file out. There's nothing else of importance to be said, and damn has it gotten awkward in here.

When the two are alone, Jenna quietly thanks Joe for believing her. Joe snorts and states that he knows what Steele is like and he knows when he's lying. Then Joe tells Jenna plainly that he doesn't have much hope of the anti-toxin arriving, and that even if it did it's too late for his fallen boy. Taken aback at the realization, Jenna expresses sympathy for Joe, but encourages him to keep his chin up. Balto is a dependable dog who won't let the town down, because despite everything he's faced, he understands how important this is. Joe smiles for probably the first time in 50 years, then asks Jenna where the goose and bears she mentioned went.

That night, the electric cross on the church steeple turns off. Rosie's mother notices this from the hospital window, and her husband hopelessly wraps her in a hug. Rosie's condition continues to worsen.

While this is happening, Jenna abandons her post under the hospital window and leads Wild Joe to Balto's boat. Some of the dogs at the cannery ogle Jenna, but Joe sets them straight with a well directed glare and a scolding about the male gaze. Boris and the bear cubs are understandably shaken when they are met with a sentient hunk of muscle, but Jenna assures them that Joe is a friend. Joe makes himself comfortable in Balto's home and asks the goose if he can wait for Balto to come back with him. The two cubs remain anxious around the old dog, who playfully teases them by asking if they think he's gonna turn them into mukluks.

As all this is going on, miles away at the previously mentioned snowy abyss, the snow in the depths of the gorge begins to shift. In a few labored, measured movements, Balto manages to pull himself from the snowbank. He collapses exhausted back into the snow, realizing how dire the situation has truly become. God only knows where the medicine has fallen, let alone whether or not it's shattered. "Kids... Rosie... I'm sorry," is all he can manage to mouth as he begins to weep.

Soundlessly, a large mass moves across the snowy terrain towards him. The world is a void of white, and the figure is too, but when he looks up, Balto can just make out the dark features of a canine face. A majestic white wolf, large enough to dwarf any dog, is gazing down at him with vibrant amber eyes. The wolf howls, then pauses as if waiting for Balto to respond. He doesn't, instead shrinking away in embarrassment. The wolf gives him a strange look, then gazes past him for a moment, then finally withdraws, quickly disappearing from view.

Balto allows his eyes to wander. Suddenly, those wandering eyes widen. The medicine. It's sitting unharmed no more then 10 feet away. And after offering the cliffside its own glance, he believes it might be possible to get it back up.

Balto rises slowly but surely to his feet. He eyes the tracks the white wolf left behind as it departed. He reaches out a paw to touch one, and quickly realizes that his paw fits inside it perfectly. His shame melts away. He raises his head up high, nose aimed at the moon, and lets loose a howl.

As if by magic, the white wolf reappears in the fog. Balto continues to howl, feeling as if it's the most natural thing he's ever done. The wolf rejoins him, and it fills the air with its own howls. The blizzard rages on around the two, but for just a moment it feels as if the world around them shimmers with a newfound clarity.

Up on top of the cliff, the sled team is huddling close together. Their spirits all seem to have been broken by what they presumed was Balto's death and the lose of the medicine. The dogs straighten up, however, upon hearing... the howling of wolves? Everyone huddles in closer together, suddenly terrified. A second later, though, they realize the howling has stopped, effectively being replaced with the sound of shuffling snow. Wait, huh? Everyone peers over the cliffside.

It's Balto, very much not dead, and very much pulling the unharmed crate of anti-toxin behind him. The dogs yap with joy, cheering Balto on as he mounts the cliff. The moment he's within reach, several dogs lift him and the crate the rest of the way up. Balto collapses in the snow, absolutely pooped. He lies there for just a moment, beaming coyly as the dogs praise him for his feat. Is this what it's like to be respected? When Balto can stand again, the dogs go through the motions once more: musher in sled, lantern on crate, crate secured, Balto up front. And nothing can stop them now.

Well, they figure as much, anyway. But they're proven wrong a short while later. The team enters a deep valley, surrounded on all sides like a great white bowl made of high pale mountains. The air is eerily still. And then, breaking the silence, someone sneezes. The sound reverberates around the cereal bowl that is the mountain range. A moment later, a cascade of snowfall begins barreling down the steepest mountain. An avalanche! The team runs for cover in the nearest cave.

As the team enters the cave, the sled thumps loudly against the ground. The dogs hazard a look up as the tinkling sound of ice on ice becomes apparent. To their horror, they see a barrage of icicles begin to plummet down towards them. One severs the handles at the back of the sled, only inches away from the musher's head. Another slams down just beside the medicine crate, causing everyone to promptly flip shit. The team rockets forward as quickly as they can, just managing to clear the cave as the worst of the icicles shatters behind them. Okay, NOW it's gotta be over, right?

Dawn is just about to break. The cannery dogs are all struggling to rest in the cold weather. One of them, a shabby, long nosed creature, gently lifts an ear in his sleep. Some sort of sound is reverbing in the distance, so far away that it can't reach the true populace of Nome. But it's there, and it rouses him awake. Other dogs begin to take notice as well. On Balto's boat, the twin cubs follow Boris to the railing as they listen. The sound starts as a very low bellow, but soon it becomes clear...

Someone is howling. It's a foghorn! It's a train! No, it's... Balto!

Balto lets out another very primitive howl as he and the team advance towards the cannery. Everyone is overcome with joy. They're so close! The cannery dogs begin running to meet the team, eyes bulging in surprise. They didn't expect this because they really only skimmed the story up to this point. The sled team keeps pace, everyone acknowledging the cannery dogs with excited yips, as they continue towards town. Boris and the cubs climb out of the boat to greet Balto.

But the team is brought to a halt as a dog steps directly in front of the sled, unmoving. Everyone rams into one another, but at least the medicine isn't being flung off a cliff this time. The dog who stopped them is, of course, Steele. His bi-colored eyes shimmer menacingly as the sled's lantern's light reflects off of them. He says he's amazed that the dogs made it home, sarcastically giving Balto in particular a "Bravo". Very cute, very heroic.

But what does Balto expect to happen? Does he think all the townspeople are just going to accept that some guy they've always hated brought the medicine back? Balto has no idea what he's gotten himself into. His only choice, obviously, is to slip out of the harness and allow Steele to lead the team back into Nome. Now.

Wild Joe leaps out of Balto's ship, finally coming to see what all the hubbub was about. He pushes his way through the crowd of stunned cannery dogs and glares daggers at Steele, telling him that he never deserved to be the lead dog and now he's still so greedy for glory that he's holding up the cure for a child killing illness. Steele snarls at Joe, clearly not caring about his opinion. Then the other dogs in the crowd begin jeering "Yeah!" and "You tell him!" and various other cliches meant to show solidarity.

But the real surprise comes when the only dog who actually does slip out of his harness is Star. "Steele doesn't deserve credit for this!" Star spits at his big brother. "In fact, he doesn't even deserve the golden collar he's wearing! All he's ever done is boss everyone around. He's bossed me around since we were pups." Everyone's eyes drift towards Steele's neck. The golden collar and all the medals adorning it shimmer dimly. "You're the hero here, Balto," Star continues. "You deserve that collar. And you're gonna wear it."

He steps towards a stunned Steele, looking as frightened but unflappable as a weeaboo asking out a girl he likes, and lunges at Steele's throat. He yanks the collar off in one swift tug, stepping back and letting it fall to the ground at Balto's feet.

Everyone looks equally amazed at the sight of Star standing up to the guy who's shat on him his whole life. Balto looks at the collar before him, then at Star, then at Steele. "Thank you," he says awkwardly, "but he can keep it. It obviously means more to him then the kids do."

Now Steele is Peak Tilted. The team moves forward again, bypassing Steele and stepping on his collar as they do. Steele stands, chest heaving, for a moment's time before he loudly snaps "no" and drives himself at the team. He shoves cannery dogs out of the way left and right as he plummets towards Balto. Balto notices and comes to a stop beside a coal shoot. The team warns him to LOOK OUT BRUH and Steele flies at him, mouth agape and ready to bite. Just as Steele is about to land on Balto, Balto rolls over, sending Steele tripping over him in the process.

The coal shoot's hatch opens as Steele lands against the lever behind it. Steele tries to claw his way up out of the slowly opening hatch as the other dogs watch horrified. Balto tries to reach out to him, but it's too late. A load of coal drops down from another hatch above the ground. Hundreds of hunks from hell hit the hedonistic Steele as his grip slips. He screams as he falls down the shaft below, a 2 ton torrent of coal following right behind him. Eventually all that can be heard is the sound of stray chunks of coal bouncing around in the shaft. The sound fades as both hatches close. Steele is gone.

Wild Joe walks over, gazes at the closed hatch, and gives a low grunt. He laments on how it couldn't have happened to a nicer dog, then turns to Balto. He says that Balto can't stand around all day when he's got medicine to deliver. But first there's something he needs to do. Star was right, Balto does deserve a collar. And to make sure he has one, Wild Joe slips his own golden collar off his neck, effectively stripping naked in public, and puts it on Balto. Balto is awed. Boris comes up behind him and wraps a wing around him, complimenting him on his new look. Joe tells everyone to hurry into town, and so they do. Balto lets up a torrent of howls once more.

The team FINALLY enters town, and already a whole slew of townsfolk have gathered to see what's going on. They can't contain their relief and their joy upon seeing the medicine has honest to God arrived. Balto brings the team to a stop right in front of the hospital, and immediately the doctor and several other people pry open the crate. A wave of people descend upon the dogs of the team, petting and hugging them. Balto is no exception to this, as people he never expected to respect him begin rubbing his ears and stroking his back.

One of those people is Rosie's father. He hesitates for a second before stroking Balto's head, then leans down and wraps his arms around the dog's neck. Balto withdraws for a moment, but then allows himself to be held. When he's satisfied with the amount of wolfdog hugging he's done, the man coaxes Balto into the hospital, where the staff is already going about administering the anti-toxin to the children.

Balto is brought in to meet Rosie. It's been some time since he's seen her, and she's just been given her injection of the medicine. She's still too weak to lift her head, but she smiles at him all the same. She reaches out her hand to stroke his muzzle, and he licks her. "Balto," she cooes half asleep, "I'd've been lost without you."

She gives a sigh and begins to snore gently, and Balto considers this an appropriate time to head outski. As he turns to leave, he sees Jenna in the doorway, her face scrunched tight in a misty-eyed grin.

The two dogs throw themselves into each other, romping in the doorway. Jenna allows herself to weep, and even Balto's eyes get a little wet. Part of her had truly believed she'd never see her closest friend again. As the two pause and settle back down, she goes to git it and plants a kiss (or the dog equivalent of one I guess) on his nose. He returns the gesture and the two lean into one another. They sit in an embrace as the town continues its celebrating.

A year has passed. Balto, Joe's golden collar still adorning his neck, runs across the cannery harbor to the boat he used to live in. Boris can be seen teaching Luk how to sweep the deck with a poorly held together broom. Muk watches in amusement. Balto calls to Boris that it's time and that he and the kids are invited if they'd like to come along. Boris, overjoyed, leaps onto Muk's back and tells the cubs to pretend they're Paul Revere and hurry up. Everyone who lives in the cannery greets Balto as he rushes by.

Balto passes Dixie on the street as everyone hurries along. Dixie's owner is offput by the presence of the polar bear cubs hi hello what the hell, but Dixie nonchalantly asks Balto what all the fuss is about. Balto explains that it's time, and Dixie congratulates him. He continues his trek, and it goes very much like it did when he was competing in the trial race before the Great Race of Mercy took place.

Finally, Balto reaches the hospital's boiler room. Inside huddle a small crowd: Rosie, her parents, Wild Joe (who is looking a little green), Doc, the actual doc, and, of course, Jenna. Jenna's the center of attention, and she's clearly exhausted. But she's not so exhausted that she can't look up at Balto with a smile on her face. Wild Joe grabs the blanket that she's tucked into and pulls it off of her as Balto and his friends gaze over her.

A litter of 6 puppies whimper out complaints as they reorganize themselves against their mother's warm belly. They're sickeningly precious, squeaking and huddling together. Most of the little ones are varying shades of red like their mother, but the smallest newborn looks remarkably like her father. She lifts her tiny, trembling head and lets out quite possibly the smallest howl any living thing has ever uttered. Everyone chuckles, and Balto leans his head into Jenna's cheek. Their faces are awash with pride.

So there you have it, Balto But Not Balto But Still Balto. Happy 24th year of existing, you trashfire of a movie you. I genuinely love this movie more then I should, and this has been fun to work on. Later this month I'll dump some more Balto stuff here, but it's just about time for me to start a new project for this blog. Hope yous guys enjoyed the wolfdoggy content. Cheers.

[briek58454521]

Let’s rant about bigotry in media and fake allies.

.Look. I get it. You want to believe that your cartoons, media and celebs are completely perfect darlings that can do no wrong, but let me be frank. I don’t care how much you don’t want to talk about it. I care about the creators who keep inviting the discourse their way through their idiocy. Whenever a creator gets in trouble for doing shit like making jokes about slave hats on a live stream, or including a blackface caricature in an art book, or killing off their gays the very episode they come out or are introduced, there’s always a subset of people who say shit like, “it was a mistake, they didn’t mean it. It kinda gives us as a leftist community a bad name when we keep attacking each other like this”.

Let’s dismantle that. And let’s break this down in three basic points I’ll use throughout. 1. It is not your place to accept an apology that was not for you, especially when in regards to racism, sexism, anti-LGBTA+ bigotry, and anti-semitism. 2. We need to stop lumping in actual criticism with alt-right idiots being shitty about marginalized groups existing, because ultimately, infighting is not the end of the world, and disagreements are not inherently bad. They are a fact of life. 3.  Most importantly of all, just because these people claim to be allies, that does not mean that they are. Because make no mistake. CARTOONS ARE NOT ANY LESS EFFECTED BY THE BIASES OF THE ENVIRONMENTS WHICH PRODUCED THEM THAN ANY OTHER WORK OF ART.

Now. Let’s break down that shit completely.

1. I used those examples as a jumping-off point, but in general, this shit always happens. A creator fucks up, they get criticism which was unquestionably earned, they get rightfully dragged, and the creator uses the backlash to garner sympathy from their audiences and paint their critics in a bad light and whine about Cancel Culture. NOW, I already talked about that in another post, but basically, it doesn’t exist, and is used as a weaponized shield from criticism. 

Thing about all of that as well is when the creators keep bringing up how they didn’t mean it like that. Most people would answer this with, “doesn’t matter, what matters is what you did”, but there’s something else that people don’t talk about. This is usually a bunch of white people excusing this shit. Or otherwise, a bunch of people who weren’t actually affected by the latest controversy. And therein lies the rub. Allies, let me put it this way. WHEN THE SUBJECT OF THE CRITICISM IS ABOUT THE PORTRAYAL OF MINORITIES IN MEDIA, YOU ARE IN NO POSITION TO EXPECT SAID MINORITIES TO FORGIVE THOSE CREATORS WHEN YOU WERE NOT AFFECTED BY IT.

Remember the Lana Del Rey controversy, where her dumbass ended up getting shit for her statement filled with venom towards other artists? Could have been cleared up if she had just accepted that she messed up and didn’t word her statement correctly, but no. She lashed out at the people who told her it was kinda racist to lump a bunch of black female artists into a conglomerate of artists who just, “twerk, cheat, have sex, and get money”, and dismissing feminism as needing to accommodate women “like her, who were more delicate”, perpetuating inadvertently to the idea that black women are less delicate, white women are petite, demure, and need to have a place above the others. AND LOOK, it’s how she responded that sealed it. Accusing her critics of being the actual racists, who hate women, and conflating the criticism with.....ugh....a FUCKING RACE WAR. Do I EVEN need to explain the problem with that?

The point is that it was idiotic of her to assume that she didn’t deserve the criticism because she “technically didn’t mean it”, when ultimately, she wasn’t the victim, she wasn’t the one who ACTUALLY got hurt by all of this, and that most of the criticism WAS NOT ANYWHERE NEAR as vitriolic as Lana accused it of being. And people do this to minorities all the fucking time. Where the praise for the work is what matters, but then they’re just upset and looking to be upset about things when they....sorry, when WE have shit to say about the fuckups. Constantly, minorities are expected to praise bare minimum bullshit lest we have self proclaimed “””””allies””””” get pissy that we aren’t playing along. Well, sorry, but, I think it be time to stop with that shit. It doesn’t matter how pure you think that person is. If the people who are the actual part of the controversy have shit to say about it, MAYBE LISTEN TO THEM instead of trying to force people to accept the apology that wasn’t even yours to accept, nor was it for you to shove in our faces to shut us up. And if you dislike that I’m saying that, just know. That’s exactly what you’re doing when you pull that shit.

2. As simply as I can put it, complaining about how a trans person is portrayed badly is not the same as complaining ABOUT the presence of a trans person, and to lump that shit onto the other pile is dishonest and willfully ignorant. When we keep getting upset about the tone, or upset about, “WAAAH, they said a me-no-like”, and lump that in with the actual facists looking to erase us from the history books, we are doing half of their job for them, and normalizing shit like what I saw the other day, where on Twitter, some asshole complained, “Anime is supposed to be an escape from reality. Adding black people to it kinda ruins the point.”

I’m gonna talk about it in the next point, but for now, understand this. NO ONE says shit like that just out of the blue without having it come from somewhere, and that attitude is all too prevalent.

In cartoons especially, criticism of the NB lizard from She-Ra is not being bigoted towards non-binary people, because the use of a fucking lizard to portray them is the ACTUALLY bigoted thing. And to lump in criticism of that with the criticism of She-Ra not being conventionally attractive enough for men to masturbate to the fucking minor is only going to long-term HARM any discourse. Because having these conversations as well as discussing these issues and educating each other about them is how we AVOID THEM. Criticism is not just a vector for asshole conservatives to be pissy about your existence. It’s also a veritable TREASURE TROVE for how not to fuck your shit up. And when we all get it, we learn. I get it, you don’t want to do shit wrong, but when you do, as everyone will, the backlash will burn itself out, and once you’ve fixed it, people will be very forgiving. Because, and it’s gonna sound mean....THAT’S HOW AUDIENCES WORK. THEY WANT TO FORGIVE YOU FOR WHEN YOU DO SHIT WRONG. So just...fix it. And listen. Yeah, you’ll get called stupid, you’ll get called “moron”, but you will have saved yourself from getting that shit ten times worse later on down the line. BEAR IN MIND, THOUGH, any of you already typing about how that’s enabling cyberbullying under the guise of critique, IT’S NOT. There’s a wealth of difference between the two, and trying to distract from the point with that is just a red herring. So stop with that.

And now....for the biggest one of all.

3. See...here’s the thing. About that anime douche. That doesn’t happen in JUST anime. It’s been around for decades, and has been a thing to this day. The WoW community got upset about womz being in power for the past 15 years, and have gotten on their high horse about black people being in the game, stating that if they were around sooner, maybe it wouldn’t, “SEEM TOO POLITICAL”, with that Asmongold jackass trying to start a second wave of GamerGate because one of the people at Blizzard said, “Black Lives Matter”. Fantasy as a genre has been so rooted in racism, that the inclusion of goblins for the most part is synonymous with anti-semitism towards Jewish people. Captain Marvel was pilloried for the past two years because the mean lady said that shit needs to change and wasn’t too nice, and also, me don’t like her too much. Basically, tone policing over a personality that we still give Howard Stern a platform for. In cartoons, the inclusion of black people is seen as an inherently political opinion. The rumors of Gen 6 Apple Jack possibly having a black voice actress prompted comments such as:

“The thiing with AJ is clearly anti-white/conservatist as a response to Trump America. What is opposite of country redneck female? Of course, and urban black woman.”

“It’s the fact that she’s black that bothers me.”

“Killing a blonde freckled Southern character for some political agenda is the last thing I want to see.”

The news of Velma Dinkley being gay was immediately pounced upon with shit about a homosexual agenda, and constant bullshit about how it was so forced, or whatever. This shit always happens, and is gonna keep happening. You know why?

Because the entertainment industry is not ready to accept minorities. The games industry is not ready to accept minorities. Cartoons are still not ready to accept minorities. They accept them for a moment, until those minorities challenge someone’s ego. Fans embrace a character until they’re a woman, or a POC, or on the spectrum, or LGBTA+. The existence of us is denigrating to these idiots’ escape, not from reality, but from us. It’s bad enough that they have to put up with us in the real world, but even worse that they have to see us in fictional shows that aren’t real.’ Us merely BEING AROUND is a bad thing, and to ask for some improvements is met with bemoaning about agendas.

Supposed allies begin and end their support with how much money we put in their wallets and how much we stroke their egos about how woke they are, and actual allies are lumped in with actual offenders. If we get upset that a show they’ve posited as so enlightening is actually the utter pits and not in any way healthy, they get upset. Tell a Reylo they’re shipping something toxic and dangerous, they’ll get upset and yell racial slurs at John Boyega for sitting next to Daisy Ridley. Say, “Fuck Arthas”, people get upset jump down your throat about how you hate forgiveness. Tell people that the Grinch ought not to be forgiven, people get upset you’re strawmaned about how you hate forgiveness.

They just don’t understand, or care about the essential fact about all of this. As I said earlier. The environments which produce the worst of offenders in these fields, and the problems we hate seeing so much are in no way less affected by the biases that they were cultivated by. And media has never been any more ready to accept minorities as people and as worthy of being portrayed as people than literally anywhere else right now. And speaking up about that is what gets these fake allies mad, especially when they LIKE the media. What makes these people so mad is not the troubling portrayal of POC, or women, or minorities. Not that we are routinely ostracized for existing in cartoons, not that this shit happens at all. They don’t give a flying fuck about any of that. It’s the thing that they have to put up with as a result of that that makes them the most upset.

Criticism. And they don’t like that.

And no matter whether or not these cartoons are made by bootlickers, or this movie was made by a TERF,  or if this creator has a history of blackface, racism, or has made garbage statements about women, if you aren’t nice and considerate enough towards their feelings, you’ll make them, and us, the allies, feel uncomfortable. NO DWAMA, just not too divisive feedback that’s ultimately worthless as it was made purely to try to appease idiots and the people most affected by these issues at the same time, meaning it had to be watered down past the point of no return in order for us to factor it in with our jaded mindsets and worldviews that are the direct cause of the problems we complain about, yet keep exacerbating through our ignorance and unwillingness to change.

If you aren’t like that, and don’t believe you should be lumped in with that, don’t behave as if you are that sort of person. But, even then, if you aren’t...listen to the actual experts. Stop listening to some white guy’s idiotic hot takes about black rep, and actually listen to black people. Listen to trans people instead of some cis white chick with no understanding of trans issues. Stop platforming the worst of offenders within these communities as the bestest ever. And most importantly....

remember that horses don’t exist.

[casperolivervo]

Just bc I saw your tweets I wanted to ask about your experience with Christianity? only if youre okay with answering!

I don’t mind answering!

A reason I’ve been talking a bit more about religion/my Baptist experiences have mostly been because I’m playing a Baptist priest for a “Vampire: The Masquerade” game coming up and also my character in the next JoR story (Jar of Rebuke: Crossroads) is battling with religious trauma, so I’ve been doing research on it since I haven’t been active in the church in like 10 years. I’ll give a run-down, but I’ll put it under the cut.

CW: sui, self-harm, addiction struggles, abuse, bullying, politics, and religious trauma.

I was raised in a small south-eastern Indiana farm town that was VERY Baptist heavy. Like, basically southern-Baptist, but in the Midwest. I was raised by a Southern Baptist family, attended a Southern Baptist church, and all that stuff. 

My parents started to go through a lot of marital problems, and the church deemed my mother hysterical/swayed by the Devil and tried to have her locked up in a stress center/have her lose custody of me. Didn’t work.

I started to explore my own spirituality (delved into witchcraft), my sexuality/gender, my aesthetic (I had a LONG goth phase heh), and also started to show signs of various mental illnesses (ADHD, C-PTSD, HPD, BPD, & Anxiety- all this started in me starting to get physically sick a lot too).

All of that got me bullied hardcore, and a common thing I was told was: you’re going to Hell, God hates what you’re doing, you’re being swayed by the Devil, etc. Also, reminder: I was living in Indiana when Mike Pence was governor there... yeah, so there was a BUNCH of “Christian laws” being passed against queer folx- the community I was just starting to get into.

I once had some recently-lit matches thrown at me in Biology class by other students claiming “burn the witch”. I had peers shove Bible-verses in my face or in my locker to demean my queerness, my interests, my spirituality, and so on.

I know that MANY folx have wonderful experiences with great churces, I won’t deny that. But I, personally, have had terrible experiences surrounding the churches I’ve gone to, Christian groups/circles I was in, and my religious family using it as an excuse to abuse or disown me.

OH! I also went to an in-patient mental health facility (Ascension St. Vincent Stress Center in Indianapolis- screw that place) after a sui attempt in high school and while my first day there was actually nice... but after my first day, it was TERRIBLE. Group-therapy leaders shamed me for my clothes, my sexuality, my taste in music- claiming that THAT was why I was suicidal. Then when I spoke one-on-one with a counselor, they claimed I didn’t actually love anyone in my life and was incredibly selfish for wanting to end my life. They sent me away crying and thought that having me sing Katy Perry’s “Roar” would be enough to cure me. I feigned feeling better to escape because just one week was enough. Oh, also, when I ended up sick with terrible congestion, coughing, sneezing, and in horrible pain- they refused any medicine even though we were connected to a HOSPITAL and I was OBVIOUSLY very sick.

Being raised with the mentality of “God values the free will that He gave us, but remember! His love is strongest for those who fear him”- well, that landed me in hot water with entering terrible romantic & platonic relationships AND had me putting up with a lot more familial abuse than I should have.

Also I went to a support group for minors/young adults trying to kick addictions and even though I was living with folx who smoked cigarettes, drank, and did drugs- I was told that I was at fault for why I couldn’t quit. That the adults who were enabling me weren’t responsible for my addictions whatsoever.  Oh yeah, and that was a Christian group- they threw God around a lot... so many crosses in every room.

My character in the next JoR arc, Adam Hankins, will be dealing with a lot of these themes. JoR: Crossroads is not a religious story, but a lot of Adam’s struggles are coming from religious trauma. 

I PERSONALLY believe there’s many beautiful things about the Bible, but there’s also a BUNCH of terrible things in it too. I personally believe that any and all Gods/deities exist if folx truly believe in them, which means I do believe that the Christian God as well as Jesus and them exist in a spiritual sense because folx believe in them. But, they’re not my deities. I do not follow them.

I like Jesus, but the Christian God...? Eh- done some shit, y’all.

But nothing in comparison to what PEOPLE who have used their faith and the Bible as an excuse to spread violence, hatred, oppression, and more.