#Socialism for all is a matter of life and death...socialism is society and life

[communistkenobi]

I’m watching FD Signifier’s new video about edgelord white guy movies. He spends a decent amount of time talking about how creators have responded to their edgelord fanbases, using The Joker and The Boys as two examples, where these creators feel uncomfortable with how their art has been received and taken up by “angry white men,” and that in response to this, they have followed up these artistic products with sequels or new seasons of television that are incredibly blunt and obvious about how you shouldn’t think of Homelander as a based chad or Arthur Fleck as a motivational figure in your life. And like he ends the video saying this is insufficient because these audiences won’t care about the messages in these follow-ups (largely bc these are downstream of larger social issues), but his framing of it in terms of “the death of media literacy” is still really frustrating and annoying because it’s buying into the idea that the main problem with people “not getting” art is literacy/education. And its not just his video, this framing is a popular memetic phrase across social media, and he does a better job than most people in talking about it

But like I just straight up do not accept that the audience of these edgelord movies “didn’t get” that they are portraying bad people, that audiences of mass media are “taking the wrong message” of “very obvious” pieces of art. Not because I think they do secretly get what these films are ‘actually saying,’ I don’t care about what’s in their hearts, but because this concern with people ‘not getting it’ feels wildly off-topic. I think it has been demonstrated over and over again that mass media is not an educational tool where people go to “learn lessons” or “take away a particular message.” I think the very fact that we have a consumptive marketised relationship to these artistic products structures and produces a specific set of responses, which is, above all else, “getting my money’s worth.” Who gives a shit what the movie is ‘really’ trying to say! That’s unimportant when faced with the question of did I get what I paid for? And I don’t mean this in an annoying lib “consumerism is making us all stupider” way I mean the economic structure of artistic production is the primary determinant of how commodities on a market are received. The idea that, under these conditions, we can purchase a piece of art that will “teach us” something about the world is laughable, that art-by-itself contains the authority to impart political knowledge. The idea that we can purchase our way into good values, good politics, that we can buy a movie ticket and see the error of our ways is buying into this same exact consumptive framing.

“The death of media literacy” implies a point in recent history where this economic relationship to art was unimportant, that we used to be able to participate in mass standardised artistic production and be unaffected by this arrangement. I think about Adorno & Horkheimer’s argument in The Culture Industry, that the profit motive is itself an object of consumption under capitalism, that advertisements are themselves products & as a result, all mass standardised artistic products are advertisements for their own capitalist production processes and logics. 

I think when people “don’t get” that Starship Troopers is depicting a fascist society, when people “don’t get” that Travis Bickle is a bad, un-admirable person, they aren’t stricken by a sudden deficit of education or literacy, they are responding to the conditions under which these things get made. Being able to get art’s “true message,” no matter how supposedly clear or compellingly-articulated, is to argue that ‘message’ and ‘meaning’ can be made independent of the conditions under which those things are created and presented to people. The industrial capitalist machinery outputting standardised artistic products is itself an authority telling you how to interpret its own products, much the same way a cathedral is presented as evidence of god. There is a material & physical authority in their presence and social arrangement that are themselves arguments. Adorno talks about this with the radio - that this vast industrial infrastructure of radio towers, broadcast stations, systems of wires and cables, and the production of standardised radio receivers (available for purchase, of course) is utterly incomprehensible to most people and amounts to hearing the voice of god when you turn on the radio. The arrangement of artistic production & presentation is itself the structure through which you experience art, and that structure is an authority you can neither comprehend nor alter. And again as A&H say in The Culture Industry, the techniques, narratives, and genres of the culture industry become standardised themselves, cookie-cutters on a production line, and therefore dictate meaning above and beyond any particular semantic meaning injected into an individual film or story. “Romcoms” are a cultural authority above and beyond the sum total of every romcom film ever made, and it is these genres and techniques that transmit the justification for their own continued reproduction. Under this arrangement, the meaning of this film or that television show are rendered marginal - not unnoticeable or irrelevant, certainly, but secondary to the cookie-cutters they were produced from 

Now does this lead to a widespread ignorant, impoverished, reactionary view of art? Of course, but that is not because the guy who likes wearing V for Vendetta masks is illiterate. To place the blame on individual education, discipline, or literacy is to take Hollywood for granted as a natural eternal entity, to take it as just another church. It’s a goofy fucking argument! 

[lowkeyerror]

Chasing Extinction

Wednesday Addams x Vampire! Reader

Word Count: 13.5k

Ch. Notes: Multiple parts, angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of death, aged-up characters, potential ooc Wednesday, blood, lmk if I missed anything

Summary: As a child, loss showed you how disappointing humanity could be. As a teen you learned the importance of relationships. As an adult you learn how uncomforting success can feel. It's not until reconnecting with Wednesday in order to try save the Vampire race that you finally feel real purpose, direction, and romance. (BASED ON THIS)

An: ... Chat I couldn’t wait I'm sorry it needed be let free so here is part one. There will be another part at a date in the near future. Hope you guys enjoy reading as much as I enjoy writing. Also at the bottom of fic is the symbol mentioned if you want a visual aid.

Series Masterlist

At heart you were a skeptic. The world was bleak, and you refused to place your hope into it. That ideology alone saved you from emotional weaknesses time and time again. You didn’t believe in people, as you learned at an early age, the only thing people were proficient at was causing disappointment.

Your mother and father loved you in their own ways. You remember tender touches from your mother, a caregiver at heart. She was always so careful with you, fearful that you might break.

Your father kept a lot of his emotions to himself. You rarely had a grasp on the kind of individual he was, but you knew his embrace was filled with warmth. You’d like to think all of the things he didn’t know how to say, he conveyed with a hug.

You loved your parents, but humanity did not. They were afraid of what they could not understand. All they saw was a group of monsters: Vampires that were a threat to them and their families. Their motivations didn’t matter to you. They had orphaned you without any hesitation. In that moment you learned disappointment.

After the loss of your parents, you were placed with your aunt. Your mother’s younger sister, perhaps too young to raise a child. She tried her best with you, but it was hard. Neither of you were quite certain of the roles to play in each other’s lives. She was a skeptic too, a woman who trusted no one, but herself. All she could do was instill in you her way of thinking.

She taught you about the dangers of attachment. Life had a way of being of cruel, according to her. She taught you how to protect yourself, not only with your hands, but with your brain. Without her there was a chance that you wouldn’t have survived the way you had.

It was easy to be skeptical when you were alone. When there weren’t many people like yourself around it was easy to not trust anyone. It was harder at Nevermore.

The school was filled with outcasts. People who could relate to being mistreated by society. On a more intimate scale, there were other Vampires at the school.

It was the first time you realized just how many of you there were. It was also the first time you realized how lonely you were.

You weren’t a social person by any means. The other Vampires learned that quickly. The only person who didn’t seem to mind was your roommate, Yoko. While others pushed to discover the workings of your personality, Yoko didn’t.

Her indifference eventually piqued your interest after months of harassment from the others. You let yourself question her one night in your dorm.

“Do you not care to know anything about me?”

She put her phone down before answering you, “Are you suddenly in the mood to share?”

“You’re the only person here that hasn’t tried to pry into the details of my personal affairs,” you deflect slightly.

“Here, it’s easy for some people to forget how cruel the outside world can be to us. They forget that our lives are at risk in most places. I know what it can be like out there and I understand what that can mean. So, I get why you're not so eager to share, it’s probably not anything you want to remember.”

Her words resonate deeply with you. It was like they were pulling something inside of you that made you want to tell her. It was the first time you felt that way, so you listened, “When I was a child, my parents were killed by the normies. I learned then that people couldn’t be trusted. Putting trust in others only leads to disappointment. After my parents died, my aunt became my legal guardian. She reinforced my beliefs and in part, is the reason why I’m not too keen on socializing.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

There was a pause. Something in her tone told you she had more to say. You didn’t know if it would be beneficial to continue the conversation, but you had already made it this far.

“You wish to say something else?”

She didn’t answer immediately, “Would your parents want you to experience a life without any companions? Living with no one to trust and no one to rely on sounds miserable. Especially when you consider how long we live. You may not understand it now, but finding the right people is usually worth the disappointments it takes to get them.”

You ponder on her words. The memories you had of your parents played in the back of your mind.

“I suppose that makes sense,” you spoke softly.

“Not everyone can be your friend, but that doesn’t make them all your enemy.”

You nod in understanding, “I’d like to call you a friend, Yoko.”

For a long while Yoko Tanaka was your only friend. She was popular amongst your peers, meaning being around her outside of the dorm meant being around her friends. She gently pushed you to socialize a bit more. While you weren’t exactly an open book some of Yoko’s friends became your friends.

Enid was a bit much initially. You didn’t judge her energy or the bright colors. She was a very vibrant person, which you had to get used to. Underneath all of that excitement, Enid was one of the most caring people you had ever met. It seemed to be second nature for her to care about the people around her. She was fiercely protective of her friends and that included you. You trusted her the same way you trusted Yoko.

“I wish you'd let me paint your nails just once, Vampy.”

You and Yoko were situated in Enid’s room for a sleepover. The blonde was currently painting your roommate’s nails. She had been trying to persuade you for a while. You always declined her offers.

“I don't like it when you call me that. If you agree to retire that name, I will let you paint my nails,” you sighed internally, preparing yourself for what was about to happen.

Enid let out a squeal of excitement, quickly abandoning Yoko to get closer to you. Her hand reached for yours without hesitation. She began analyzing your nails, her file ready in the other hand.

“What’s your favorite color Vam- Y/n?”

The immediate slip up made you laugh a bit, “Red, dark red like-”

“A blood bag, very cliché Y/n,” Yoko interjected.

Enid glared at the other Vampire, “Yoko don't ruin this moment. This is the first personal thing Y/n had shared with me.”

“It’s just a color,” Yoko argued back.

Enid shook her head dramatically, “No, it’s Y/n’s favorite color.”

Yoko looked at you with her eyebrow raised, “Would you tell our pup another piece of information so she could let this color thing go?”

You think for a moment, trying to find something about yourself that you think Enid would be satisfied with.

“My birthday is in February.”

“O-M-G, are you an Aquarius or a Pisces? I totally get Aquarius vibes from you. Things are starting to make a whole lot of sense. I wonder if our signs are compatible for friendship. Do you have Costar? You should download Costar.”

She rambled on about horoscopes until she finished your nails. After that she took your phone and downloaded Costar, making sure to send herself a friend request.

The only other person you made a connection with at Nevermore was Wednesday Addams. In some ways she reminded you of yourself. She was very intelligent and very private. Wednesday wasn’t someone who loved being the center of attention, she just often found herself at it. Her pride would not allow her to run from it.

It wasn't something that was outwardly apparent, but Wednesday was an adventurer. She craved a challenge, which she would never find in a schoolbook. Wednesday needed a case to crack.

“Have you ever thought of getting revenge on the people who murdered your parents?”

“Wednesday! You can’t just ask her-”

You cut Enid off, “Sometimes, but it wasn’t just one person. It was an angry mob, so I’d have to find them all first.”

“Finding them sounds like child’s play. I could probably do it in an afternoon,” Wednesday offered up her services.

You shook your head, “I wouldn't feel vindicated. Even if I killed them all, it wouldn't be enough. They robbed me of something truly priceless.”

You kept your eyes focused on the window. Watching students engage with each other on campus. The question created a thick emptiness in your mind.

You didn’t see the way Enid glared at her roommate. Nor did you see the slight displeasure on Wednesday’s face as realized her question was potentially insensitive.

Enid was careful to wrap her arms around you from behind. You tore your gaze from the window to turn into her arms. Enid had deciphered some time into your friendship that you preferred physical contact when it came to being comforted.

“My question was inappropriate, forgive me,” Wednesday spoke flatly.

Enid let go of you, getting ready to unleash a hurricane of words onto the girl in black.

“I think it’s quite thoughtful of you actually.”

“Huh, how?” Enid questions.

You look into Wednesday’s dark eyes, “That was Wednesday’s way of offering to help me get revenge on the people who wronged me most in life. It was a friendly gesture.”

Wednesday looked away from your intense gaze.

“Oh, I get it now. That’s sweet of you Wends, we’ll practice on the delivery next time,” Enid’s mood did a 180.

Wednesday rolled her eyes, “There is nothing sweet about me. I was just trying to put my expertise to use. I beat Crackstone and the stalker, I’ve been terribly bored lately.”

Wednesday and Enid went back and forth for a while. You simply watched the converse once again getting lost in thought. Your eyes scanned the raven-haired girl. Your mind wandered to places it had never explored before.

Yoko had explained crushes to you before. It was in simple terms; terms that felt too simple for the strength of the feeling. It was an intense yearning that you fought against at every opportunity. Having a crush on Wednesday sounded like something trivial, a waste of time.

You knew how the girl felt about romance. She wasn’t interested in it; in fact, the thought repulsed her. Yet as you learned from Yoko, you don’t get to choose. The feelings act on their own with disregard for social etiquette.

You valued your friendship with Wednesday and did not wish to ruin it with your romantic feelings. So, you promised yourself to never reveal them.

“What are your plans after graduation, Y/n?”

The question from Enid abruptly removed you from your own thoughts, “I haven’t given it much thought.”

“Does nothing interest you?” Wednesday let some genuine curiosity slip through.

You shrugged, “What is the monetization of an interest, if not the death of a hobby? There are many things I enjoy, but finding my life’s work has proven to be quite difficult.”

Enid was excited to chime in with her opinion, “I think you could be a writer, like Wednesday. You’re into classical music too, maybe a composer?”

“You have been more than competent as a detective during our investigations,” Wednesday gave you a rare compliment.

“I enjoy all those things, but how do I know if they’re worth pursuing? What if I’m not successful at any of them?”

“I loathe this expression, but perhaps it will be useful to you. You must ‘follow your dreams'. If you are passionate about something, you can use that to push yourself to successful heights. Success is not unilateral; it looks different for everyone. Though in the eyes of the law my investigations are fraudulent, I count them as successes because I know I solved those cases. I simply do not care what they have to say, because I know the truth.”

You reflected on her words before a sly smile took over your features, “If I got a bestseller before you would you take it personally?”

“Competition fosters creativity.”

-Many Years Later-

You wrote under a pseudonym. At first it was to hide your shame if you became a failure. As you began to garner an audience you kept it to sustain your private life. Much to your surprise you actually did make the bestseller list. In fact, you made it multiple times. Wednesday had still gotten there first. Her semi-autobiographical tales of Viper De La Muerte were beloved by many.

It turns out she was right when she said that competition fosters creativity. It seemed as if the two of you were always battling for that number one spot on the list.

Lately you have found yourself in a creative slump. There are too many distractions around, you can’t put pen to paper like you need to.

“I think I want to go out of town.”

You sit across from your aunt, while the two of you eat dinner.

“Where?”

You sigh, “I’m thinking about renting a cabin for a few months. I need to focus on my writing, and I can't do that here.”

“Y/n our numbers are dwindling, and you want to go live alone in the forest? What if something happens to you?”

You knew that this was an inevitable conversation, “Amdis I’ve already booked the cabin. It’s not too far from Yoko, so if anything goes wrong, she’ll be able to help me.”

The woman’s eyes flare red, “And what of the murders?”

“Conspiracy often plagues-”

She cuts you off, “You know better than anyone else that there is no conspiracy when it comes to the hate in the heart of humanity. Did you forget what happened to your parents?”

Her comment causes you to slam your fist down and rise from your seat, “Don’t you dare make such claims. I carry their loss with me in every step I walk, I see them when I look into the mirror, I hear them when I speak. How can I forget them, when I carry a scar, which lets me know that I should’ve lost my life with them?”

“Y/n I-"

“Just as no one came to save my parents. It’s impossible for me to save our people. I can’t live my life in fear of death because that’s not what they would’ve wanted!”

Your eyes burn into the woman. It was as if there was lightening storming behind your red irises.

Amdis relents, “I’m not saying that I expect you to save everyone kid. I just want you to be mindful of what is happening to people like us. The hunters are getting out of control, and the only safety we have right now is in numbers. I can’t stand to lose any more family.”

You sit back down. The gravity of your aunts words weighs heavily on you. You take a moment to see her not as your aunt, but as a person. The woman who lost her older sister, who could’ve denied you entry into her life. She was 18 and suddenly tasked with taking care of a 9-year-old. She had done everything for you, sacrificed so much to be the person you needed her to be.

“I know, I’m sorry for being inconsiderate. Your worry means everything to me. It’s just- this is something that I must do. You taught me how to protect myself, now I must ask you to trust that I've retained that knowledge.”

“You’ll check in with me every few days. If you miss a single day, I’m coming out there,” her tone stays stern, but you begin to smile.

“Understood.”

Yoko picked you up from the airport and offered to take you up to the cabin.

“How’ve you been bestseller?”

You sigh, “Uninspired.”

Yoko laughs, “I was hoping to hear about something outside of your career.”

You search for something to share, “My life is only divided into two categories my career and people I care about. Enid’s been sending me a lot of recipes lately; she said she wants to make me some blood brownies.”

“The brownies are fucking delicious; you should definitely take her up on that.”

You nod starkly, “Maybe I’ll host a little get together once I’m settled in and have gotten enough work done.”

The other Vampire nods, “You could invite me, and I'll of course bring Divina, Enid will bring the brownies, and last but not least Wednesday.”

“She’s probably busy being a modern day, more fashionable version of Sherlock Holmes. If she’s not doing that then she’s for sure drafting a book about it.”

Yoko shakes her head in disbelief, “And you’ve still got that teenage crush on her.”

“I do not.”

Yoko plays along, “Fine, then how’s your dating life?”

You blink a few times, “I have yet to find a substantial partner that piques my interest or matches my drive."

“Because you aren’t looking for anyone that doesn’t have the name Wednesday Addams.”

You roll your eyes, “Give it a rest Yoko. We both know that Wednesday doesn’t wish for romance.”

Yoko quirks an eyebrow, “Is that so? I’ve heard otherwise from Enid.”

“What do you mean?” The words spill quickly from your mouth. You try to regain some of your nonchalance, but Yoko sees right through you.

“I mean Enid has told me that Wednesday has had many romantic encounters. Passionate love affairs, burning romances, quick flings, you name it she’s experienced it."

You feel your jaw clench at the information, “Good for her.”

“Don’t be upset little bat. I also know that they never last. Enid tells me that none of them really understand Wednesday. They think they can change her, but-”

“Wednesday doesn’t change for anybody.”

Yoko agrees, “Precisely. Wednesday’s affections are often lackluster to many people. Some want grand gestures and proclamations, but that just isn't her vibe you know?”

“I know.”

The trail to the cabin isn’t too far into the woods. Yoko was able to park right in front of it. It was a cozier looking space than you had originally thought. The cabin was big but packed with well-loved furniture and knick-knacks. The most important accommodations for you were the TV, and internet.

Yoko helped you bring in your things and unpack.

“Ok, I’m going to visit every Friday.”

“You don’t have to check up on me,” you tell her.

She pulls you in for a hug, “I know, but it’s nice to have you around. It would be weird to know you’re less than an hour away and not come to visit.”

“You’re worried,” you mumble into her shoulder.

Her hand caresses the back of your head, “A lot of us have been going missing lately. I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

“You sound like Amdis."

Yoko’s voice is soft, “Your aunt has every right to be worried. Call her, let her know you made it. I’ll text you when I get home.”

With one more squeeze Yoko exits the cabin leaving you alone. The quiet washes over the area and you let out a large breath.

Your eyes drift over to the typewriter you brought. Usually, you author your stories on your laptop, but you brought the typewriter to draw extra inspiration.

Before you attempt to write, you call your aunt like Yoko instructed. By the time the call ended Yoko had texted you that she made it home safely.

You sat in front of the typewriter just thinking. The pressure was building. There was a finality in writing on a typewriter that wasn't there when you worked digitally. You’re somewhat forced to be more intentional with your words. Which was the main rain you had brought it in the first place.

It feels like forever before you type your fist sentence. Slowly, but surely you begin finding a rhythm and soon enough you’re loading in another sheet of paper.

A text message a few hours later is what finally breaks your concentration. You assume that it is Yoko or your aunt, but you're wrong.

Wednesday: Enid tells me you’ve taken up shelter in a cabin in hopes of ending your writer’s block.

You: I have and it's working quite well actually.

Wednesday: With all of the Vampire killing going on, you find locking yourself up some in a cabin to be safe?

You: Not you too 😒. I’m fine, Yoko lives close by and I'm very capable of defending myself Addams.

Wednesday: If you’re put in a position to have to defend yourself, that just shows that you didn’t take the proper methods of precaution.

You: I assure you; I have taken every possible precaution.

“Have you really?”

You scream and jump at the same time. Your hand places itself over your shallow beating heart.

“What the fuck, Wednesday?”

The woman eyes you up and down, “Vulgarity is new for you, Y/n. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear before."

Your phone rings before you can question your old classmate. You pick it up hearing Yoko’s slightly panicked voice at the end, “Are you alright? I heard your heart rate like triple.”

“I’m fine Yoko, just have an unsuspected visitor.”

“Who?”

Wednesday makes her presence know, “Hello, Tanaka.”

You can nearly see the other Vampire smiling on the other end of the line, “Addams, very interesting. Well, call me if you need anything baby bat, I’ll talk to you later."

You say a quick goodbye before hanging up the phone. You turn your attention back to Wednesday. The last time you saw her was a little over a year ago at some party Enid was throwing. She hadn’t changed much; in fact, she hadn’t really changed much of her aesthetic since Nevermore.

Her attire was still all black. She still had her two braids. She might’ve been an inch taller and maybe her tan was a little darker, but she was essentially the same.

“How did you find me and why are you here?”

Wednesday walks around observing the cabin with each step, “Well I mentioned that Enid told me, that girl can’t keep any details to herself. She said you’d be staying close to Yoko, and this is the closest available cabin to her. I thought I would have had to search more, but I got lucky with this one.”

“Okay… but why?”

“Is it so strange that I want to catch up with an old friend?”

You look at her incredulously, “You wanted to see me, so you tracked me down and broke into the place I'm staying at? Try again.”

“I’m investigating the increasing amount of murders in the Vampire community,” she reveals.

“Oh.”

Wednesday begins to explain, “As you know the unprovoked hunting of Vampires has been illegal for quite some time now. Yet this year alone the number of bodies belonging to the immortals have been found at an alarming rate. A lot of Vampires are afraid that they might be next. With terror comes two paths avoidance or violence. Neither has ideal conclusions for the Vampire race. To avoid would be to possibly become extinct and the violent route means a war. Someone must put a stop to it before it goes too far.”

Hearing the reality of the situation from Wednesday feels more bone chilling than when your aunt or Yoko mentioned it. The last war between the Vampires and the human race had ended horribly for both sides. So much death that both sides eventually relented to peace talks. Those talks laid a lot of foundation for not only Vampire rights, but also the rights of many supernatural beings. Another war wouldn’t only affect the Vampires, but all relations between humans and supernatural beings would be up in the air.

“Another war would cause complete and utter chaos,” you say.

Wednesday agrees, “It would be the end of peaceful relationship between the naturals and the supernatural entirely.”

“What does any of that have to do with me, Wednesday?”

The brown eyed girl bores into your eyes, “My pride has learned to take a backseat over the years. I understand now that I cannot do everything on my own. The stakes of this investigation are the highest that I’ve ever come across. I require assistance from people I trust to ensure this matter is properly dealt with."

“You need my help,” you summarize her words.

“Yes. I’m currently making my way through my list of allies. Enid suggested that I recruit former Nightshades.”

Your eyes drift over to your typewriter, “Has anyone else agreed to this?”

“Enid is in, she’s in the process of convincing Bianca, Ajax, and Ken. I’m here for Divina, Yoko, and you.”

The pressure of this decision weighs heavily on you. Choosing to stay and write your book rather than fighting for the rights of your people seems ridiculously selfish. On the other hand, willingly agreeing to put yourself in the middle of a potential war didn’t sound much better.

“I need a drink.”

You enter the kitchen, locating the bottle of blood wine you had brought with you. With a wine glass and corkscrew at the ready, you’re pouring yourself a hefty glass.

Your sipping from glass at an eager pace before refocusing your attention on to Wednesday, “Do you want a drink?”

“Bourbon, neat,” she steps into the kitchen.

You sit your glass to begin making Wednesday her drink.

“I never pegged you for a dark liquor type of detective, it’s a little cliché.”

She’s quick to shoot back, “And a female writer with an affinity for wine isn’t?”

You wince playfully, “Touché.”

When you hand her the drink she continues the banter, “Your typewriter is an antique, Royal Magic Margin from 1938. Impressive."

“Amdis got it for me as gift after my first bestseller. I only really use it when I have writer’s block otherwise, I'm on my laptop like everyone else.”

“Though I’ve embraced most technology I still prefer my typewriter. It feels more satisfying when I can physically see all of the pages,” she shares.

You nod, “Understandable.”

The two of sit in silence as you nurse your drinks. You keep running through scenarios in your mind of how this all will turn out. Even the good outcome for the supernatural beings didn't necessarily mean a good outcome for yourself. Anything could happen to you along the way.

“I know that what I’m asking you to do is a lot, but I assure you that I wouldn’t have come if I didn’t think you were capable.”

Your finger plays with the rim of your empty glass, “Do you have any leads, evidence, or plans, or would we be going into this completely blind?”

“I have a few leads and pieces of evidence. I have the ghost of a plan, but I can’t finalize anything until I know my allies. For now, the plan is to gather a team to bring to my residence in order to create a feasible plan of action,” Wednesday explains.

You bargain with her, “If you can convince Yoko, I’m in. I don't want to be the only Vampire around if we're going to be facing hunters.”

“Fair, I was wondering if there was any potential in getting Amdis to join in as well,” Wednesday propositions.

You frown, “You know my aunt doesn’t play well with others. If I tell her that I’m getting involved in something like this she will personally track me down and drag me off to the furthest corner of the Earth.”

“Right, well then we shall wait for one hour and then I will drive us to Yoko's,” Wednesday says matter-of-factly.

“Why are we waiting an hour?”

Wednesday kept a deadpan look on her face, “For the drinks to metabolize."

An hour later the two of you are making the drive to Yoko’s house.

“How have you been fairing?” Wednesday keeps her eyes on the road as she speaks to you.

“Fine and you?”

You see the woman’s shoulders drop a bit, “I never imagined you’d give me such a scripted answer, Y/n. I thought we were years past formalities.”

Her words startle you. This is a side of Wednesday that you are still getting to know. You’re used to her being more nonchalant with the feelings of others.

“Sorry, it’s just my most given answer. I don’t know how I’m doing. I’m a successful writer, but I’m suffering with writers’ block. That doesn’t even really matter when my people are being slaughtered though does it?”

“I think we’re approaching the age where we don’t know what matters anymore? Everything blurs together and starts to feel the same. Success doesn’t seem as important as we thought it was when we were younger. We are going to save the Vampires and avenge the ones that have been lost. Then maybe we’ll be to appreciate the triviality of our daily struggles,” Wednesday answers you completely.

You find yourself staring at her side profile. There’s a hidden vulnerability in her words. You don’t know if it’s the right thing to do, but you question her anyway, “Have you been uninspired lately?”

“Uninspired, unmotivated, and bored. Not just with writing, but with the detective work too. I’ve thrown myself into my work since I was a child. Though I’ve seen the heights of success, they weren’t as tall as I pictured them to be. I suppose it’s like, I’ve grown larger than my dreams, and now I find myself… unsatisfied.”

“Then why take on this case?”

The woman licks her lips for a second before taking a quick glance at you, “It’s personal, isn’t it? I’m not a Vampire, but you are as well as Yoko. I can’t sit around and do nothing, as the people that I’ve worked hard to care about lose everything. Like we said earlier, this problem could expand beyond Vampires. My best friend is a Werewolf. Nearly every person that I tolerate is a supernatural being. I refuse to wait until it’s too late to act.”

A small smile takes over your features, “Noble as always, Wednesday.”

She scoffs in faux agitation, “Still trying to paint me as some kind of heroic figure.”

“Well maybe if you’d stop saving the day, I’d let it go,” you tease her.

“I don’t save the day; I simply follow leads and clean up investigations.”

You answer with sarcasm, “Of course, and it’s not like you take these events and turn them into bestselling novels where the protagonist is a reflection of yourself.”

“How dare you drag Viper De La Muerte into this?”

You laugh at the menacing tone behind her words, “Look, I thought we were done giving scripted answers. You, Wednesday Addams are one of the most heroic people I've ever encountered. Stop being stubborn and treasure the compliment.”

She parks the car before turning her full attention to you, “Perhaps I have some of the qualities of a hero, but I refuse the title. I’m more than the mysteries I solve or the books I write. There are plenty of times I was less than hero like.”

The both of you exit the car. You mumble to yourself, but she still hears you, “Spoken like true hero.”

You ring the doorbell and wait for Yoko to answer. It takes less than a minute for her to open the door.

“Baby bat, already out of the cabin so fast? And you brought a friend too. Long time no see, Addams.”

Yoko steps aside to let you in. The two of you enter and subsequently follow her into the living room.

“I’ve come to ask a favor of you, Yoko,” Wednesday gets straight to the point.

Yoko eyes you for clarification, “I think it’s best she speaks for herself here.”

Wednesday tells Yoko the same thing she told you. The Vampire did not interrupt once. Her facial expression stays neutral as she takes on the information and what is being asked of her.

“That’s a big ask Addams,” Yoko says once she’s heard it all.

“I’m aware, but we would be the only thing standing between an all-out war,” she reasons.

Yoko sucks her teeth, “And Divina is needed as well?”

“Ideally, yes.”

She’s silent for a few minutes. There’s a slow tension building in the room as you wait for her answer.

With a huff of annoyance she agrees, “I’m on board, Addams. What kind of person would I be if I didn’t at least try?”

Wednesday turns her attention to you.

“Fine, but I’m too young to die Wednesday,” It’s as much a joke as it is the truth.

“I would give up my life before I’d let you lose yours.”

Her words seem to suck all of the air out of your lungs. It’s the way she says it, in that way only she can. She speaks these passionate words as if they are fact. They’re common sense to her but seem like an alien language to you.

You say nothing, just sit there trying to keep your face from showing how flustered you are.

“Anyway… should I wake up Divina and pack our things now?”

Wednesday nods curtly, “The sooner we leave the better. It’s a long way to my residence.”

-At The Addams’s Estate-

Wednesday had not been exaggerating about the nearly 8-hour drive to her home. The property was just as unique as the members of the Addams’ family.

“Enid should be here somewhere with the others. You can sit your bags by the door Lurch will take care of them,” Wednesday instructs the three of you.

You all follow her through the home. As you get closer to the rest, you can hear Enid chatting away.

“Some things never change, do they?” Divina nudges Yoko.

The Vampire smiles, “The day that Wolfie has nothing to say, is a day I truly fear.”

When you enter the kitchen area you are met with a plethora of familiar faces. Enid is having a very animated conversation with Bianca. While Ken and Ajax are speaking amongst themselves.

The blonde let’s out shrill yell when notices your arrival. She’s quick to envelope her oldest friend in a hug, “Yoko, I’ve missed you.”

Enid’s grip is something fierce but Yoko hugs her back regardless, “We just saw each other last week, but I missed you too Wolfie."

Divina and Enid exchange quick pleasantries before the siren makes a beeline for her twin.

When it’s your turn Enid can’t help but to lift you off of the ground. It startles you a bit, but you let out of laugh, “You’re a lot stronger than I remember, Enid.”

“It’s a wolf thing, Vampy.”

You groan at the nickname, “I could’ve sworn that we agreed that you wouldn’t call me that.”

The blonde shrugs, “I don’t recall. Wednesday do you recall?”

“You’re asking her because you remember that she was there,” you point out.

The corners of Wednesday’s lips turn up slightly, “We all have unfortunate nicknames given to us by Enid. I believe it is a form of endearment. Though ‘Vampy' is not ideal, it could be worse.”

“See you could stand to learn a thing or two from Willa,” Enid beams.

“Don’t push it,” Wednesday threatens, her stoic expression returning to her face.

Enid concedes, “Understood.”

Wednesday snaps her fingers getting the attention of the room, “We all know why we have gathered here. As much as I would love to dive right into all of the details surrounding the event, I feel as though it would be beneficial to make sure everyone is settled in first. Get reacquainted with each other, try to enjoy this time. Tomorrow we will begin the real work.”

The traveling likely was weighing the abilities of the group. Most of them completing a full days’ worth of travel just to get to the home. Trying to rally them at this point would be a waste of time.

Upon hearing Wednesday's words, the talking picks back up again. Everyone is engaged in a conversation. Wednesday sees this and takes that as her cue to try to leave the room.

You stop her, “Leaving your guests already?”

“Enid is a much more entertaining host than me. She’s familiar with the home so she should be fine,” Wednesday tries to justify her exit.

“Where are you going?”

Wednesday fixes her posture slightly, “If you must know completing a nearly 16-hour drive back and forth is quiet tiresome. I was hoping to get some rest.”

Your eyebrow raises in amusement, “My god, I’ve seen it all. The Wednesday I grew up with would never admit to actually needing sleep.”

She rolls her eyes, “I said rest, not sleep. The two aren’t always synonymous.”

“Well, I could use some rest too. I've been traveling technically for two days straight.”

Wednesday extends her hand out for you to grab. You stare at it cautiously before slipping your hand into hers.

“I’ll show you to the room,” she begins dragging you through the house.

You wonder if she took your hand, so you'd be forced to keep up. It could be a precaution about you getting lost, her home was big, so it made sense. Maybe she remembered your affinity for physical touch and was trying to offer you comfort.

The last thought made you blush. You were grateful the woman was in front of you as to avoid her seeing your face.

She opens a door to what you assume is the room you’ll be staying in. When she closes it behind her, she starts to speak again, “Because I’m not regularly used to accommodating such a large number of guests, rooms will be shared. You and I will be sharing if that is alright.”

“This is seeming more and more like Nevermore by the minute,” you joke, though on the inside your nerves are failing you.

“Would you like me to get the tape?”

Though her tone doesn’t reflect it, you can tell she’s joking, “It’d only be for your benefit Addams, I don’t mind being close to you.”

“Good to know,” she says it to herself more than to you.

The room is large, you can tell it’s somewhat of a masters suite. It doesn’t surprise you to see that there's a bookcase situated against a wall. Near the shelf there’s a medium sized black couch that you could picture the girl reading on.

The bed in the center of the room is large, you assume it’s king sized. It feels silly to picture Wednesday laying in that huge bed alone, but the voice in the back of your mind reminds you that according to Yoko, Wednesday doesn’t spend her nights alone. It's in that same frame of thought that you realize there’s only one bed.

Wednesday heads over to the couch, “You will take the bed.”

You shake your head, “I can take the couch, this is your home.”

Wednesday counters, “And you are my guest.”

“Don’t be stubborn Addams.”

Her gaze meets yours aa little fiercer than usual, “I thought last name basis was just something between Tanaka and I, but it seems to have rubbed off on you.”

You crease your brow, “Abrupt change of subject don’t you think?”

She shakes her head a bit and the emotion leaves her eyes. She reaches for a book off of the shelf, burying her face in it, “Take the bed, Y/n."

“Old habits die hard I see,” you comment, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“What are you referring to?”

You purse your lips, “The way you avoid discomforting topics.”

You can see her jaw twitch from your place on the bed. For a moment, you think you overstepped.

She keeps her focus on the book, “I’d prefer if you’d just call me Wednesday.”

You keep your eyes on her, “Well, Wednesday, I think your bed is quite large. Too large for just one person, in my opinion. I see no reason for you to take the couch, when there is ample space on the bed.”

The statement makes her sit the book down on her lap, “You would be comfortable with that?”

You fight the urge to look away from her, “I wouldn't have suggested it if it made me uncomfortable.”

She gets up from the couch and hesitantly makes her way towards the bed. She sits on the side opposite of you, leaning her back against the headboard. You follow her lead and get comfortable. You lay flat on your back, pulling out your phone for entertainment.

You attempt to fight the urge to fall asleep. However, between the traveling and the softness of the mattress, you lose.

Your light snores pull Wednesday out of her book. She takes in your sleeping figure, analytically. Her thoughts roam freely in her mind as she watches you sleep.

She wonders if the rest of your skin is as soft as your hand. Wednesday wonders if you have laid in bed like this with anyone else. She wonders just how close she could get to you without it b being inappropriate.

The truth of the situation pokes at her. Yes, this case was foundationally important to her. She hadn’t lied in trying to get you to her home, but she also wasn’t entirely truthful. Wednesday didn’t like knowing what was happening to Vampires and being so far away from you. In her mind the closer you are to her, the easier it is to keep you safe.

An aggravated sigh escapes her. After all these years and her futile attempts to move on, she finds herself just as enamored with you as she was at Nevermore.

Now here you were, in her bed. Yet romance couldn't even be considered with such important things at hand. Wednesday had to stay sharp, to keep her focus on the task at hand. This was likely the biggest investigation of her career, potentially the last one she would ever do. Failing here meant failing you, and everyone else she cared for.

Though it was unlike herself she tried to stay optimistic. She refused to believe she had gathered you all to put you in worthless danger.

With her book long forgotten, she attempts to rest her eyes as well.

“I’m using this as blackmail one day.”

“They aren't even that close together.”

“That’s what Photoshop is for Yoko. You're looking at an Adobe certified editor.”

Your eyes open just enough to see Enid and Yoko conversing at the entrance to the room.

“Just take the damn picture Enid, before one of them wakes up.”

You sit up right in the bed, startling the women, “Too late.”

You yawn, sighing in satisfaction when your bones crack.

“We were just-”

“Being weirder than usual and taking pictures of us in our sleep,” Wednesday answers, sitting up in a similar fashion to you.

“Jesus, you guys are the creeps! Who wakes up like that?” Enid replies, completely deflecting on to the women sharing a bed.

“What do you want?” You ask them, your voice echoing as you wipe your eyes.

Enid rolls her eyes, “Relax Vampy, we just came to say dinner’s ready. You’ve been asleep for a couple of hours already.”

“Ok, we’ll be down in a minute,” Wednesday tells them.

“Take your time kids,” Yoko says, pulling Enid along with her.

You run a hand through your hair, trying to shake the last of your tiredness out of your body.

“I’m going to shower before I go down, you don’t have to wait for me,” Wednesday gets out of the bed.

Your body almost melts at the thought of a shower. It’s as if the word itself makes you untense.

“A shower sounds nice,” you say aloud.

“Though I’m aware of the dire state of the climate crisis-”

Your face turns red, and you cut her off, “I wasn’t- I didn’t mean together. I just meant in general.”

You marvel as you see color paint her cheeks "Oh, yes, that does make more sense. Down the hall, first door on the right there’s another bathroom.”

The two of split off into your separate showers. You find each other at the top of the stairs heading to dinner together.

You never pictured Wednesday in relaxed apparel before, but she stood beside you in a pair of black pajama pants and an oversized shirt. It looked like the clothes would swallow her up.

“Were you expecting something more elaborate,” Wednesday speaks, noting your lingering gaze.

“Maybe, but I like this.”

She heads down the stairs without another word and you follow behind her. Once you get to the kitchen table you take a seat next to Yoko while Wednesday sits at the head of the table.

“Enjoy your nap baby bat?” Yoko says suggestively.

“Do enjoy having 2 fangs?”

Yoko laughs, “How unusually violent of you.”

You roll your eyes, “Unusually? Have you forgotten the way I was when we first met.”

“All talk, no action,” Yoko argues back.

“Ajax, do you recall when I broke your nose?” You call him out, trying to make a point.

He sighs poking at his nose, “I do, it’s been a little crooked ever since.”

“Well, if you hadn’t stood up Enid, your nose would be straighter,” you remind him.

“Hey, I accidentally turned myself to stone.”

You shrug, “Should’ve led with that.”

Bianca laughs, “You didn’t even give him a chance. It was definitely on sight.”

Ken adds on, “No literally, and she just walked over him when he was on the ground.”

“It was kind of like a hit and run, except she slowly walked away,” Divina thinks out loud.

It’s nice to laugh and joke you still can. It feels like something you’ve been missing lately in your life. The sense of community that you have here surrounded by your friends is warm.

It's not that you isolate yourself from others. You make it to their parties or gatherings for special occasions, but it’s not often. It’s also not everyone like this. Though you wish the circumstances were better, you’re grateful for this, as you don’t know when it will happen again.

After the meal, you head back to the room. You aren’t tired, in fact you feel focused. With your laptop in hand, you sit on the couch. You take this moment to begin recalling things that might be important for the investigation. You think over the historical content that you know about Vampires. Strengths, weaknesses, previous war efforts, and enemies, anything that might help for tomorrow.

You’re familiar with the 6 W's of investigating, so you assume that’s where you’ll start tomorrow. You had some theories based on what you had seen and known from your aunt, but you couldn’t confirm anything without Wednesday’s evidence.

It made sense for this to be a group of hunters, but with the volume of deaths and missing cases, it was improbable to believe they were working alone. Killing Vampires wasn’t an easy feat. They were strong and nearly immortal. Evolution had done the race good. Garlic had been minimized to an allergy, they didn’t combust in the sun anymore, and wood could not simply penetrate their skin.

Silver was still the deadliest of their weaknesses, followed shortly by magic, holy water, and finally the claws of a wolf. There were other things that made them vulnerable, but those were the main ones.

“Feeling inspired to write after dinner?” Wednesday enters the room.

“You could say that. I'm actually getting some of my thoughts together for tomorrow. I want to have everything I know readily available. That way when we start going into what you already have, I could potentially plug in useful information.”

Wednesday sits next to you on the couch, slightly leaning over your shoulder to look at what you have written so far, “Has there ever been a civil war amongst the Vampires?”

You nod, “Multiple times. The first one was about territory expansion. At one point the entire population of Vampires was in one place. Some people thought that it was necessary for survival, others believed that they should be able to go wherever they wanted. People picked sides and they fought against each other.”

“I’m going to assume the side who wanted to separate won.”

You shrug, “Kind of. That war technically led to us being discovered by humans. There was lots of commotion, you can’t necessarily hide a war. Once they were discovered the humans began trying to kill them. So, they had to make a truce to fight against the humans. There was a huge loss of our people, a loss that some argued could’ve been minimized if we all weren’t in one spot. After that any Vampire who wanted to stray from the coven was allowed to.”

“I see, and the other wars?”

You continue, “I only know of 2 more that were civil. The next one was about interspecies relationships, and the last time we fought it was about ethical consumption of blood. The quick version of events with the interspecies dispute was that there had been this obsession with being pure. Vampires were not allowed to mate outside of the race, regardless of who the other party was. It was challenged after our war against the Werewolves; as a number of Vampires had fallen in love with certain Werewolves.”

“The blood one was quite recent, correct?”

You nod, “I was alive for that one. Maybe 5 or 6 years old. It was probably the largest civil war we’d had; some people even believe we’re still in it today. We need blood to survive, but everyone was divided about where we could get that blood. Some people didn’t want to drink from humans as it is not the best for our image in their eyes. Others argued that drinking from animals could slowly kill the ecosystem. There was even more fighting when it came to how to obtain it.”

“Who won?”

Again, you shrug, “Like I said some people say this one is still happening. It ended in a sort of agree-to-disagree manner. There are technically restrictions about how much of any species that a single Vampire can consume but-”

“Not everyone abides by those restrictions,” Wednesday finishes your sentence.

“Exactly. What are you thinking about all of this in correlation with the investigation?”

Wednesday doesn’t hesitate to share, “I asked about in-fighting within the community because I believe that Vampires are in some ways responsible for these murders.”

You hold back a gasp, “You think we’re killing each other off?”

Wednesday points to a part in your notes, “You have it written out here that you don’t think it’s the hunters alone if it’s them at all. They don’t have the strength or the numbers to operate on a high scale like this. They have to be working with some non-human supernatural beings. Who better to help kill Vampires than other Vampires?”

“As much as it sickens me, we can't rule it out. However, you did say any non-humans, which could mean anything. We all know the history between Vampires and Werewolves. We also know that a noted weakness of Vampires is magic which could indicate Witches. I don’t think we can rule out anyone yet,” you reason with her.

Wednesday’s gaze softens as she looks at you. It’s as if she knows something you don’t. For a moment you can see her contemplating, in her mind.

“Do you know something I don’t,” your voice is delicate as you press for answers.

You can see her mask falling back into place, “I think we should talk about it tomorrow.”

She tries to get up from the couch, but your hand grasps her wrist, “Wednesday.”

She wishes she could ignore your plea, but it was impossible. Maybe if she was the teenager she used to be, she could shrug you off and stand her ground a bit better. However, Wednesday had grown up and knew that acting in that way would not benefit the relationship.

“Come with me,” she says, slipping her hand into yours.

You stand and walk with her out of the room. You walk down the hall, taking a turn before approaching a door. When Wednesday enters the room, you immediately realize it as her study. If the large desk in the middle of the room wasn’t a giveaway; then you’re certain that the evidence board on the wall would’ve given it a way.

The raven-haired girl waits to speak. She watches as your eyes scan the evidence board. It’s a mess of pictures, sticky notes, and red string, but she’s certain you can follow it.

The images on the board are disturbing, she paid close attention to your reaction to them. Pictures of people like you, but lifeless. Some bloody and gore filled, others with bones broken, and some just neat.

You study the pictures, perhaps longer than you should. Your brain is working overtime to find some sort of connection.

“There’s a marking on them. You can’t see it in the pictures, but it’s visible in person. I drew it, right there. I tried to look it up, but the only thing that came up was general Vampire facts. I couldn’t tell of this was some kind of branding or maybe an identity mark that Vampires have,” Wednesday breaks your concentration.

Your eyes flit over to the drawing. It was a circle with triangles around the inner lining, and in the center was a swirl. You recognize the symbol but can’t necessarily recall from where.

“I’ve seen this before.”

Your fingers reach out to trace over the symbol. As soon as they find the paper you feel a burning sensation in the middle of your back. The pain makes you grunt and crumple on to the floor. Blood wells behind your eyes and spills out as you cry silently.

Wednesday is by your side instantly. She tries calling your name and asking what’s wrong, but you can’t respond to her in the state of pain. She sees you clawing at your shirt and without hesitation helps you take it off.

In the middle of your back, she can see a scar forming. It looks like the outline of the symbol she had drawn. It was only the circle; the triangles and spirals hadn’t formed yet.

“Burns,” you manage to spit out. Your fangs come out without your permission.

Wednesday stands up frantically searching for something in her office that would help you. When she returns to your side you can hear her opening a jar of sorts.

Without much warning you feel her hand rubbing the substance on to your back. You flinch out of fear but are relieved when the burning sensation dies down significantly. As your breathing returns to normal, you attempt to sit up.

“Well, I guess we know it’s a brand now,” you attempt to joke.

Wednesday glares at you for a second. She wipes her hands off before reaching to wipe the blood off of your face.

“Nothing about this is funny. You have this circle on your back, we don’t know what it means, and you’re a bloody mess.”

You grab her wrist to stop her from wiping the blood off your face, “These are just tears Wednesday. I’m fine.”

She looks at you wildly, “You are not fine-”

“Wednesday, we have more pressing matters at hand.”

She shakes her head firmly, “They can wait. Get on the desk.”

You furrow your brow, “Excuse me?”

“Get on the desk so that I can properly examine the wound,” she elaborates.

It’s when you stand that you start to really process that you don’t have a shirt on. Wednesday politely turns and waits for you to follow her instructions. You do as she asks, laying against the cold wood.

“Is this really necessary?”

“Just be still.”

You try to relax as reality begins to crash down on you. Not only is there a partial brand stamped into your back, but the woman that you liked since you were a girl is tending to your wound. You’re laying shirtless on her desk while she examines you. This is both a dream and a nightmare.

She begins pressing down on the mark, but you don’t flinch from the touch, “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“Interesting,” Wednesday says getting a closer look.

“Does it look bad?”

“It looks… healed already. Last time I checked your kind isn’t fast healing.”

You stop her, “Well that’s not entirely true. Some Vampires, usually the older one have enhanced healing features to make up for their evolutionary disadvantages.”

“I want to try something. Sit up and give me your hand,” she says.

“You’re still just as bossy as you were when we were teens,” you say, but again follow her orders.

She huffs at you, “And you’re just as compliant.”

Her words shut you up immediately. You watch as she closes her eyes, both her hands firmly in yours. That’s when you begin to understand that she’s attempting to use her powers.

For a moment you feel her grip loosen before her grip becomes deathly and her eyes shoot open.

“What did you see?”

“You’ve seen it on a book at your house, it’s your aunts. Old brown leather, it looks like a journal but it’s thick like a book.”

You sigh, “You think we’re going to need that book, don’t you?”

Wednesday confirms, “Ideally yes, but we’ll worry about it later. I think we’ve done enough for today.”

You attempt to get off of the desk. Your foot slips on one of the loose folders Wednesday has on her floor. The dark attires girl is quick to try to steady you.

Her hands feel unusually warm against the bare skin of your sides. You feel her breath fanning over your collarbone. The fabric of her shirt felt soft, lightly tickling your chest.

There was a small tension building between the two of you. You could feel Wednesday’s eyes following a trail from your face all the way down your body. She did it so shamelessly, in way where it made you feel like a piece of evidence she was examining.

You don’t expect it when the back of her hand rests against your forehead, “Do you feel lightheaded, because you look flush?”

The way her eyes examine every corner of your face makes you want to melt on the spot.

“I slipped on your folder,” you manage to slip out.

Her hand drops from your forehead to caress your cheek, “I must clean in here before I let everyone in tomorrow.”

“Wednesday-"

“Can I ask you something Y/n?”

She says this while her hand finds a place on the small of your back, guiding you out of the room. You forget your original thought.

“Yes,” you answer.

“Are you aware of how cool and soft your skin is?”

You stumble over your words, “I- um-"

“It’s always been like that. As long as we’ve known each other, I mean. I remember the first time you put your hand in mine, to shake it. I’ve pondered over the years if the rest of your skin feels the same. Now, I have the answer.”

You’re in her room now. The door closes behind you, and her hand is still on your back. She leads you to the bed, and you still haven't found the words.

All you can manage to say is her name tentatively, “Wednesday.”

“Are you accustomed to sharing a bed like this? Does anyone of note know the comfort of your skin?”

“No,” you answer breathlessly.

Wednesday releases her own breath, “Good.”

You watch helplessly as the woman walks to the other side of the bed and climbs in.

“What was the meaning of this Wednesday?” You say as you climb into the bed.

She dares to get closer to you. There’s a small space between the two of you. Something you could close if you wished to.

“You’re captivating.”

“Is that something you say to everyone that's shared this bed with you?” You can’t help it as the snarky comment leaves you.

Yoko’s words about Wednesday’s escapades run through your mind. At first you doubted the validity of what you had heard, but with the way Wednesday was acting with you, it was starting to make sense. The suaveness of her words, the charm of her certainty, she could have anyone be putty in her hands.

“No, it’s not,” her voice held a sincerity in it that you weren't prepared to hear.

You lay flat on your back, scared to look into the Latina’s eyes, “I've heard about your romantic encounters.”

Wednesday sighs, you can feel her eyes burning into you something akin to the brand on your back, “Y/n, we’re adults rapidly approaching our 30’s. As a teen I could pretend not to be the slightest bit interested in romance. I could focus on my work. However, as I grew, and began to accomplish my goals, I realized that I wanted somebody to share it with. Not platonically, but intimately. So, I tried dating, is that a truly repulsive thought?”

“No, it’s of sound logic, just like everything you say.”

Wednesday lays on her back, turning her attention towards the ceiling, “Have I misinterpreted things between us? The tension, is it of another variety?"

“You haven’t. I’m just having a hard time understanding this.”

Her hand extends into the space between the two of you. Your hand falls into hers and your fingers interlock.

“I should’ve known the moment I met you that any other attempts at romance would be frivolous. I apologize for my timing, but with you here with me in this capacity, I could not help myself. I thought I would be able to keep these feelings buried like I did when we were younger, but the truth is Y/n, I yearn for you.”

“Wednesday-"

“No one has ever come into my quarters to lay with me. I’ve never brought anyone home, and subconsciously I knew why. None of them would live up to you. Your beauty, your strength, your humor, your passion; all unrivaled.”

You squeeze her hand, “Careful, you’re sounding like your father.”

“I can no longer afford to be careful. I am willing to risk my reputation if it means that you will entertain my pleas.”

“I always thought that one day I’d tell you how I felt about you, and you’d be kind enough to let me down gently. This is a lot to take in,” you close your eyes briefly.

“Is this something you want?”

Your eyes meet hers and suddenly they’re burning just as intensely, “Yes, but I am afraid. Wednesday, you brought me here to help you save my people. This isn’t Crackstone or some stalker, I could die. Hell, you could die.”

“I won’t let that happen.”

“Why is it so easy for you to say that?”

As your head falls her hand lightly grips your chin forcing you to keep eye contact with her, “Because I mean it. Have I ever broken my word?”

“No, but-"

She moves closer, closing the gap between you. You feel everything slow as her thumb cascades across your bottom lip.

“I could argue you down with logic if I have to. My track record speaks for itself, but I don’t want to do that. I want you to trust me, can you trust me?”

You nod, internally shivering when her lips slightly brush against yours. Your breath mingles with hers and your eyes begin to flutter.

“I trust you.”

Wednesday moves hesitantly, but she’s basically already there. Your lips touch experimentally. She keeps getting closer until she’s on top of you. She’s straddling your waist with your face still in her hands. Your hands slide under her shirt to rest on her waist. She’s warm, warmer than you ever could’ve imagined.

You push her away from you a little as you work to control your breath.

“What’s wrong?” She looks for signs of discomfort or regret on your features.

You open your mouth, showing your fangs, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Wednesday slips her thumb into your mouth. You keep it open, feeling her touch your teeth. The pad of her thumb against the point of your fangs. She pricks herself and you know it immediately.

A single drop of her blood falls onto your tongue. Your lips enclose around her thumb as you suck lightly. Her blood is rich but bitter like an expensive chocolate.

You moan at the taste. Red hues swirling around as you taste her, “God Wednesday.”

She pulls her thumb from your mouth. Her chest heaves slightly, “I would allow you to drink from me until my knees were weak. As much as I desire that, I fear that if we go any farther it will becoming increasingly indecent.”

You nod, inhaling deeply, “You’re right, it seems like we are getting ahead of ourselves.”

She steals another kiss from you before she returns to her spot next to you. She tries to put distance between you two, but you pull her flush against you. Her back against your front. Your purposefully blow air against her ear.

“Where did you think you were going?” You chuckle in her ear.

“I thought we were giving each other space, as to not escalate our behaviors,” she murmurs.

It makes you laugh even more, “Can’t control yourself enough to lie next to me?”

Her arms overlap yours to keep them place, “I can. I suppose I forgot that you are someone who prefers physical contact.”

“We don’t have to cuddle,” you say.

“No, I like this,” Wednesday holds on to you tighter.

“Goodnight, Wednesday,” you whisper into her hair.

“Goodnight.”

You weren’t ready to wake up when you felt the warmth move from beside you in the morning. Your arms pat around the bed searching for the girl that had spent the night next to you.

You groan when you are unable to locate her.

“Go back to sleep it’s early.”

Instead of listening to the voice, you sit up and began to rub the sleep out of your eyes, “Where are we going?”

“I am going to clean my study, and you’re staying here,” she puts emphasis on the ‘I.’

“Let me help,” you say getting completely out of the bed and stretching your limbs.

You hear Wednesday sigh, “Your eyes aren’t even open.”

You open them slowly, adjusting to the new brightness, “Better?”

Wednesday rolls her, “Fine, but put a shirt on. We don't need everyone seeing your bra.”

You let a dopey smile play on your features before throwing a shirt over your head, “Jealous?”

“And if I were to say yes?”

You walk across the room to stand in front of the shorter girl, “Then I’d say you have nothing to worry about. Divina, Yoko, and Enid have all seen me shirtless before and none of them have been swooned.”

Wednesday glares at you, “Not funny, I recount Enid saying some rather interesting words about your body.

Your eyebrows raise, “Wolfie liked what she saw then?”

You could see Wednesday’s jaw clench, “If you would rather room with Enid that can be arranged.”

You shake your head, “I’m right where I’m supposed to be.”

Color dusts Wednesday’s cheeks as she looks away from you, “We’re supposed to be cleaning my study.”

You step aside and dramatically gestures towards the door, “After you.”

“After I practice my dental hygiene,” Wednesday says taking steps to her restroom.

“I’ll do the same and we’ll meet in front of the office?”

She nods and the two of you go your separate ways briefly before meeting in front of Wednesday's office.

It was as messy as it had been the night before. Together you work in silence to make the room more presentable. Papers that are scattered on the floor find themselves in neat stacks on her desk. Some of the books are returned to their proper home against the wall. You clean until the only mess that remains is your shirt from last night and a small bloodstain on the floor.

Wednesday picks up the shirt before you do, she examines it. When she holds it up there’s a notable hole in it, the shape matches the one of the symbols that was now etched into your back.

“Just how hot was it?”

When you get a glimpse of the shirt you frown, “I’ve never felt such an intense pain in my whole life. It felt like the sun was resting on my back.”

Wednesday keeps the shirt as evidence she you help her remove the stain from the floor. By the time you finish it’s actually a reasonable time in the morning.

You decide to go the kitchen and look for sustenance. Yoko, Enid, and Bianca are already there, seemingly making breakfast for everyone.

“Morning,” Enid speaks enthusiastically.

You greet them quietly, taking a seat at the table. Yoko brings you a slice of toast that’s covered in, what you assume is blood jam. You’re correct, and munch on the bread happily.

“Y/n did you have a nightmare or something last night?” The other Vampire questions, taking a seat next to you.

“I was going to ask the same thing, your heart was going crazy, and it sounded like you were crying,” Enid adds on.

“I think it’s better if I wait to tell everyone at once,” you mumble.

“Does it have to do with the investigation?” Bianca correctly assesses your hesitance.

Wednesday answers, “Yes, and let’s hold any further questions until after breakfast.”

You can see Yoko roll her eyes behind her glasses, “How come Addams gets to know and I don’t?”

“Yoko, we were together, so she saw everything. I’ll tell everyone once we’re getting ready to start working out the plan.”

One by one, everyone else appears in the kitchen. The chatter is low but fills the room all the same. Once everyone finished, Wednesday starts to direct them towards the office. As they file into the room Wednesday grabs your hand pulling you to the stand with her in front of the evidence.

“Last night after speaking with Y/n, about the history of in-fighting in the Vampire community, we came to this room to go over some of the evidence that I have gathered. During that time, I pointed out the pattern of this symbol on the victims. Though it did not photograph well, I took the time to draw it. When Y/n touched that drawing, it partially burned into her skin.”

You turn with your back facing them. You raise up your shirt to just above the scar on your back. A few gasps are heard with the reveal.

“That symbol belongs to the first generation of elders,” Yoko inspects the drawing.

“Do you know why it burned her?”

Yoko tilts her head to the side, “There was a story my parents used to tell me about it, but I always thought it was legend. The symbol was originally the crest of the first Vampires in existence. It goes back to the territory expansion, the elders wanted everyone to stay together. However, when it was decided that the others could leave, they wanted a way of being able to identify each other once out in the world. They took their symbol and filled it with cursed magic. It marked every Vampire that it could touch.”

“Does that explain why it’s on the bodies?” Ajax questioned.

Bianca answers him, “I doubt it, that story is probably hundreds if not thousands of years old. Most of these victims wouldn’t have been around back then, according to this board.”

Yoko adds on, “Bianca is right. After Vampires were allowed to migrate, it didn’t make sense for us to all follow one set of elders. So, everyone kind of started doing their own thing, finding guidance in the community rather than the original elders. Of course this upset them, they tried warning people about fighting against them. Eventually their need for control caused them to do some heinous things to other Vampires resulting in exile. Their symbol was banned and as far as I know they dropped off the face of the earth.”

“Is there a chance that these markings come from them?” Ken speaks up.

The group looks to Yoko and yourself for answers.

“It’s not impossible…” You begin to say.

“But as immortal as we claim to be, we can still die. The average life span is somewhere around 500-700 years. They would be pushing 1,000 if not older,” Yoko finishes.

“Did you have any suspects Wednesday?” Divina chimes in.

Wednesday begins to point to the evidence board, “There’s inconsistencies across the murders. They all look different, live in different areas, various ages, even the way they are being killed seems different in each circumstance. In some places I’ve found some typical Vampire hunter weapons, stakes, silver, matches. However, with respect to the scale of the crimes it is unlikely that they’re working alone.”

Enid begins to speculate, “So we think the elders Vampires are teaming up with the Vampire hunters? How does that work?”

“Well, the motivation is there for both parties. If the elders are still alive, they have to be powerful beings. Even if the hunters wanted to kill them, they probably couldn’t,” you offer her an answer.

“That or the hunters could be under hypnosis. So, they have no choice but to work with the elders,” Yoko adds on.

“So, what’s the plan Addams?”

Bianca’s question refocuses the attention on Wednesday. You all can see the gears spinning in her brain. This was tedious work, not something that could be wrapped up instantaneously.

“We’ll start by getting the book from Amdis. Then I have a few leads we can follow.”

It wasn’t a full plan just something structured enough to start. Things could develop and change depending on what you found in the book, so it made sense to keep things open.

You weren’t necessarily fond of bringing everyone to your house to collect the book, but it was the most efficient thing to do. That way you guys would be able to check out Wednesday’s leads together straight after.

You were hoping that your aunt wouldn’t be at the house when you arrived. It was a silly thing to hope for, you knew she was an introvert. Your key wasn’t in the door for 3 seconds before it was yanked open.

“Back from finding yourself in the woods already? Oh, and you’ve brought guests.”

You lead your friends into the house going straight to the living area. The book you were looking for should be somewhere on the bookcase. Locating it is easy; it sticks out amongst the rest. You’re scared to touch it, the burning sensation still very fresh in your mind. Wednesday can sense the hesitation from your side, she picks up the book, tucking it under her arm.

“We haven’t come to stay, I just need to grab something, and we’ll be on our way,” you call out to your aunt.

“On your way where exactly?”

Your mind goes blank, but thankfully Enid cuts in, “We’re going on a little friends vacay. It’s been so long since we’ve all been together. With work and life and everything else, we just thought it would be fun to recapture some of that teenage magic before we forget what it felt like.”

“Well, this is more practical then locking yourself in the woods alone, I suppose,” Amdis states.

Your jaw twitches at the slight jab, “More inspiring to have my friends by my side.”

“One last question, where do you think you're taking that book?”

Your face drops with the question, “I’m just doing like you said, caring a little more about our people.”

Amdis crosses her arms over her chest, “I’m just supposed to take that at face value when you have the world’s most unnerving detective by your side? How do you even know that books about Vampires?”

“I have seen this symbol before, why are you making such a big deal of it?”

Amdis stares at you in disbelief, “Because you clearly think I’m some sort of idiot. You’re standing here lying to me like I haven’t known you, your whole life.”

“I’m not a child anymore Amdis, I don’t need you to babysit me. We both know you didn’t want to in the first place,” you shoot at her.

“Is that how you really feel? You want to lay it all out, fine. No, I wasn’t ready to become a parent at 18, but you were all I had. My parents were long gone, and my sister was dead. I knew what it felt like to be alone, to be abandoned, and I didn’t want that for you, Y/n. I sacrificed the little that I had for you, and I’d do it all over again because you’re my family and I love you. Yet, you repay me for my sacrifice with lies, deceit, and accusations. All because I care about you.”

The tension in the room finally explodes. Your friends watch you with careful eyes. Wednesday wants to reach out, but you move before she can. You find yourself sitting in a chair staring at your aunt, the empty expression on your face reminiscent of when you were young, and emotionally avoidant.

You lean forward with your elbows on your knees, trying to find the confidence in your posture. When you speak your voice betrays you, wavering with a soft timidity, “We’re going to stop the extinction.”

The anger vanishes from your aunt’s eyes, “What?”

“I’m going to help save our people, with or without your blessing. It’s dangerous, it’s risky, and perhaps it’s even a little naïve, but Amdis you were right, our people are dying. I’ve seen it and I just can’t stand idly by.”

She exhales audibly, “I’m going with you.”

“But-"

“Kid you’ve lost your fucking mind if you think I’m going to let you go on a literal suicide mission without me. Besides, you’ll all be better off having an expert on your side.”

Bianca interrupts, “We were trying to get her to bring you along in the first place.”

You glare at the siren, “Fine since we’ve figured this out so graciously, I need a minute alone with my aunt. So, talk amongst yourselves and don’t break anything in my house.”

Your aunt leaves the room first and you attempt to follow her. A gentle grasp on your hand stops your briefly.

“Are you going to be alright?”

You squeeze her hand lightly, “I’ll be fine, Wednesday. It’ll be quick, just start looking through the book.”

You squeeze her hand once more before going after your aunt. She’s waiting for you in your room. You close the door behind you as the two of you stare at each other.

“I’m sorry for lying to you. I just didn’t want you to try and stop me,” you admit.

“Kid, I know it feels like I’m getting in your way sometimes. It’s not that I don’t believe in you, because I do. You’re one of the brightest minds I’ve ever encountered. I've watched you succeed in spite of everything you’ve been through. I love you and I’m proud of you. I just- I don’t want to lose you too,” you see the tears begin to well in her eyes.

Though she stands defensively, you still make your way across the room to wrap her up in a hug. Her head falls onto your shoulder as you tightly hug her.

“I couldn’t have done any of it with you. You became the parent I needed you to be and I'm grateful for it, I love you for it. You’re not going to lose me, I promise,” you sway with the embrace.

Amdis pushes herself out of the embrace gently, wiping at her eyes, “Let’s go save our people.”

Upon returning to the living room Wednesday presents the book to Amdis holding it up a picture of a man.

“Do you know who this man is?”

“Ulysses Obrien, he was a secretary of sorts. He worked with the elders, even after the territory expansion. Why?”

Wednesday holds up her phone and a modern picture of a man that strongly favors the one in the book is displayed, “Because he’s my first lead.”

With the pictures side by side in front of you, the theory of other Vampires being involved in the extinction was becoming more and more likely. The fact you were looking at the historian of the elders was proof enough they could live that long. The thought of the power alone was intimidating, but you couldn’t run from it. You believed in it too much now; you were going to save the Vampires from extinction.

[sunny-day-jack-official]

URGENT! Stop KOSA!

Hey all, this is BáiYù and Sauce here with something that isn't necessarily SnaccPop related, but it's important nonetheless. For those of you who follow US politics, The Kids Online Safety Act passed the Senate yesterday and is moving forward.

This is bad news for everyone on the internet, even outside of the USA.

What is KOSA?

While it's officially known as "The Kids Online Safety Act," KOSA is an internet censorship masquerading as another "protect the children" bill, much in the same way SESTA/FOSTA claimed that it would stop illegal sex trafficking but instead hurt sex workers and their safety. KOSA was originally introduced by Sen. Edward Markey, D-Mass. and Bill Cassidy, R-La. as a way to update the 1998 Children’s Online Privacy Act, raising the age of consent for data collection to 16 among other things. You can read the original press release of KOSA here, while you can read the full updated text of the bill on the official USA Congress website.

You can read the following articles about KOSA here:

EFF: The Kids Online Safety Act is Still A Huge Danger to Our Rights Online

CyberScoop: Children’s online safety bills clear Senate hurdle despite strong civil liberties pushback

TeenVogue: The Kids Online Safety Act Would Harm LGBTQ+ Youth, Restrict Access to Information and Community

The quick TL;DR:

KOSA authorizes an individual state attorneys general to decide what might harm minors

Websites will likely preemptively remove and ban content to avoid upsetting state attorneys generals (this will likely be topics such as abortion, queerness, feminism, sexual content, and others)

In order for a platform to know which users are minors, they'll require a more invasive age and personal data verification method

Parents will be granted more surveillance tools to see what their children are doing on the web

KOSA is supported by Christofascists and those seeking to harm the LGBTQ+ community

If a website holding personally identifying information and government documents is hacked, that's a major cybersecurity breach waiting to happen

What Does This Mean?

You don't have to look far to see or hear about the violence being done to the neurodivergent and LGBTQ+ communities worldwide, who are oftentimes one and the same. Social media sites censoring discussion of these topics would stand to do even further harm to folks who lack access to local resources to understand themselves and the hardships they face; in addition, the fact that websites would likely store personally identifying information and government documents means the death of any notion of privacy.

Sex workers and those living in certain countries already are at risk of losing their ways of life, living in a reality where their online activities are closely surveilled; if KOSA officially becomes law, this will become a reality for many more people and endanger those at the fringes of society even worse than it already is.

Why This Matters Outside of The USA

I previously mentioned SESTA/FOSTA, which passed and became US law in 2018. This bill enabled many of the anti-adult content attitudes that many popular websites are taking these days as well as the tightening of restrictions laid down by payment processors. Companies and sites hosted in the USA have to follow US laws even if they're accessible worldwide, meaning that folks overseas suffer as well.

What Can You Do?

If you're a US citizen, contact your Senators and tell them that you oppose KOSA. This can be as an email, letter, or phone call that you make to your state Senator.

For resources on how to do so, view the following links:

https://www.badinternetbills.com/#kosa

https://www.stopkosa.com/

https://linktr.ee/stopkosa

If you live outside of the US or cannot vote, the best thing you can do is sign the petition at the Stop KOSA website, alert your US friends about what's happening, and raise some noise.

Above all else, don’t panic. By staying informed by what’s going on, you can prepare for the legal battles ahead.

[13thpythagoras]

"In 1988, the U.S. Senate paid tribute with a resolution(3) that said, "The confederation of the original 13 colonies into one republic was influenced by the political system developed by the Iroquois Confederacy, as were many of the democratic principles which were incorporated into the constitution itself.""

This is the kind of free thinking Fascists want to crush.

[orcasoul]

Joel Miller Imagine #5

Warnings: sexual themes (under 18's DNI)

Word Count: 818

Jackson boyfriend Joel who took longer to settle into Jackson than you and Ellie did. Who, even though there's no immediate danger, always keeps an eye on you when you're out and about (old habits die hard). Who gives a death glare to any man he catches checking you out, silently signifying that you are off limits. Who is slowly becoming more comfortable showing affection to you in public, no matter what some may think of your age gap of twenty years. Who fiercely loves the little family you've all become.

Jackson boyfriend Joel who wakes up every morning thankful that the three of you made it here in one piece. Who takes a moment some mornings to watch your peaceful expression as you sleep, chuckling quietly when you mumble something incoherently while dreaming (you can be adorably vocal when you're asleep). Who wakes you up for breakfast by nibbling at your ear lobe, causing you to giggle and hide under the covers. Who sometimes still can't believe the simple, domestic life you all get to live now, knowing it should never be taken for granted. Who will do everything he can to ensure Jacksons' prosperity -patrols, building maintenance, farming - anything, if it means you actually get to live and not just survive.

Jackson boyfriend Joel who is still adjusting to community life; after so many years in different QZ's, where everyone kept their heads down and business private, it's quite the change to be surrounded by decent, friendly people who aren't out to take advantage and exploit each other. Who has to remind himself that people approaching you and Ellie no longer means danger, but at the same time, he's ready to defend at a moments notice. Who smiles to himself when he sees your effort to integrate and realises that if you're pushing yourself out of your comfort zone to become part of this society, then he should do the same.

Jackson boyfriend Joel who still has nightmares about losing his daughter, but now the nightmares also include you and Ellie. Who sometimes wakes up silently in a cold sweat and after the reassurance that you're okay, sleeping soundly next to him, he gets up to quietly check on Ellie in the next room before settling back down. Who sometimes is awoken by your voice calling his name and your hand stroking his cheek. Who lets you pull his head to rest on your chest as you lay down; the soothing sound of your heart beating against his ear quelling the fear and tension plaguing him.

Jackson boyfriend Joel who always makes sure you're both on patrol together - wether it's just the two of you or a group - if you're going beyond the walls he's going with you. Who instantly reverts to the survivor he's been for the past twenty years when on patrol, listening (with his good ear), watching and waiting for any and every possibility, all while keeping close to you. Who fears sometimes that life in Jackson might make you both unintentionally complacent and that's something neither of you can afford.

Jackson boyfriend Joel who often attends social events, mostly for you and Ellie. Who'd promised himself that he'd give you both the life you deserve and if that means putting up with meaningless chit chat from the locals, so be it. Who enjoys seeing you make friends with other women your age (after all you need more than his grumpy old ass). Who groans in amused frustration when you pull him up to slow dance with the other couples. Who knows exactly how you get when you're tipsy, your eager eyes slowly dragging down his neck to his exposed collarbone, teeth grazing your plush bottom lip and sending his blood rushing south. Who discreetly follows you to the toilets after you've "excused yourself" and moments later is buried to the hilt inside your pulsating pussy as he fucks up into you against the cubical door, while you bite down on his neck to keep from screaming. Who, because of you, feels like a horny teenager all over again.

Jackson boyfriend Joel who's chest swells with pride when he sees how close you and Ellie have become with Tommy and Maria. Who never thought he'd have anything close to resembling a family again, but here he is with a second chance of having exactly that; of course he feels the pang of regret when his thoughts drift towards Sarah and even though she's not physically present, she's still here, treasured safely within his heart. Who has begun to realise that calling himself your boyfriend feels to simple and casual a statement compared to the depth of his love and gratitude towards you. Who wants to spend the rest of his life making you as happy as you make him. Who very soon will make it official by asking you a most important question.

[kseniyagreen]

And no one in the world can see through you...

I think one of the most important and acute themes of the drama is the desire to be seen, to be real for someone. The desire is so greedy and desperate that many heroes are ready to die for it.

Because without this feeling of being seen and understood, they feel like they are in an endless dream. Not so real. And for the opportunity to become real, they are ready to pay with pain and life.

Ying Lei and Bai Jiu both died trying to do something meaningful for their special person. Striving to be the one who changes something - himself, alone. And maybe that's why they were so reckless.

Li Lun sacrificed his immortal existence to become a real man for one day - the man Zhao Yuanzhou will not forget.

The bird goddess understands that this Fei is not real - and understanding this, she kind of see the real Fei in her heart.

And therefore she feels it as if they are finally together.

This is a desperate, beautiful but painful desire to have someone who sees you and whom you see, someone who will illuminate the darkness of your loneliness, especially acute and painful for those who are used to feeling like an "anomaly".

The drama also raises the social aspect - about how anomalies are not accepted by society, are seen distortedly and falsely, and this experience of social invisibility makes the desire to find someone who will see and understand the real you even stronger - sometimes dangerous and even destructive.

All the characters are in some sense are dreamers in a dream and puppets in a play.

And in this play you can go beyond the given role, show a glimmer of your true self only at the moment when your role ends. And every hero here dies looking at the one for whom they wants to become real most of all.

This interestingly reflects the fact that under censorship, a lot can only be shown at the cost of the hero's death. Like queer couples in censored dramas, they usually die in the finale (at least one of them). Antiheroes who reject the laws of this world's also usually assert their right for sympathy with a selfless death.

But in reality, a person asserts themself and finds understanding not through death, but through life. It is not the final sacrifice, but the path traveled that matters.

And this is where I see the meaning of Zhao Yuanzhou's path.

He could have died in the middle of the story - and the villain would not have received his power, and the world might not have needed to be saved.

But then ZYZ would have died unrecognized and misunderstood, lonely.

But thanks to the path traveled, he finds someone who sees him, who understands him, who loves him and makes him real.

And for Zhuo Yichen, this is no less important - for someone who was afraid of his dreams and therefore lived as if in a dream, for someone who was afraid of that unconscious part of himself. And therefore, diligently fulfilling his social role, he did not get close to anyone.

But the more alive and real they become together, the tighter the web of fate becomes. As if resisting their desire to be together.

And yet I would like to think that this desire and their mutual reality turns out to be stronger than the tragic scenario.

Like at the moment when Zhuo Yichen was supposed to die together with the villain, but did not die because the Zhao Yuanzhou's spell "recognized" him.

This desire to stretch the thread of connection through all obstacles, barriers and through death itself is very tangible in the way they're holding hands.

And this courage not to let go even when it seems the universe itself is separating you plays a key role in the finale.

"I recognize only the principles of my heart," says Li Lun.

And I like to think that along with his power, he passed on to Zhuo Yichen a part of his rebellious spirit and gave Yichen the courage to resist fate.

Yichen too manages to save part of Yuanzhou's soul because he knows that soul truly. They manage to pull this theme of mutual recognition into a situation as far away from an act of love as possible.

This "I knew you would do this" "and I knew you would do this, and that's why I do something else" and "you're still so..." - as both recognition of "it's you" and surprise and recognition anew.

They are both tied with ropes to their roles, like puppets of a demon who fulfills wishes. But they see each other beyond these roles. And with his final act, Zhuo Yichen seems to connect their destinies beyond the boundary where their roles end.

Zhao Yuanzhou had to fulfill his role as a sacred sacrifice and leave. Zhuo Yichen had to fulfill his role as an instrument on which Yuanzhou would make his sacrifice. But Yichen, taking on an active role in a situation of impossible choice, goes beyond the role of an instrument - and thanks to this, he can do what does not fit into this role.

Save Zhao Yuanzhou's life and connect their fates beyond the fulfillment of the prophecy.

And now they're both free.

[esoteric-oracle]

//long rambles ahead!

I think what really lingers with me about MDZS is that it's not a novel with a cathartic ending at all. It's a bittersweet story that leaves you slightly hollow. Yes, it's a beautiful and epic romance. It's a piece of social commentary interwoven with a love story and murder mystery. It's a cautionary tale. But it is also very much a tragedy. It's a story about being too late, second chances, and moving on.

By the time the truth of everything JGY and JGS did comes to light, it's 13 years too late. Everything that mattered has already happened. Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan are long dead. Jin Ling is still an orphan. Wen Ning is dead, and sometime in the future, his death will be permanent. Wen Qing was burned to death at the stake for no fault of her own. Nie Mingjue has already spent ten years in a no-doubt agonizing state of un-death, and Lan Xichen will have to bear the guilt of loving both Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao, and by doing so, forsaking them both. Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng's once-close bond is irrevocably broken, and the woman who sowed the seeds of resentment when they were still children will never face the consequences of her vitriol.

People sometimes say MXTX was too hard on the side characters, and only gave the Wangxian a happy ending, but what stuck with me after finishing the story is how… sad things are. Yes, Wangxian finally get the happy ending they've deserved for nearly 20 years - but at the same time, it's not a happy ending where the people who've wronged them get the consequences they deserve.

Wei Wuxian will spend the rest of his life haunted by guilt and loss, over what happened to Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan, over the loss of the Wen remnants. The rest of his years won't even be lived in the body his parents gave him.

Lan Wangji will spend the rest of his years wondering if he'd chosen to stand with Wei Wuxian when it mattered - would his son have had to grow up without his birth family?

Nie Huaisang is left wondering if his brother had been a little less trusting and had never taken Meng Yao in as a Nie deputy, would his brother have died a less wretched death? Would he have been forced to stoop to ruthless machinations and manipulations to seek some semblance of justice?

Wen Ning will have to live with the knowledge that if he'd been a little less kind, if he'd let Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng die that fateful day - his family would still be alive. The Wens would've won the war; Wen Qing might've even succeeded Wen Ruohan.

No one really gets the ending they deserve. MDZS isn't a story where good people get happy endings, and bad people get their dues. Sure, Jin Guangyao's crimes are revealed and he faces the consequences of his actions. But what about the people who stood by and made him into a monster? If anything, the side characters and antagonists who survive get better than they deserve. The real villain of MDZS - society - will never face retribution. Those cultivators who always believed in their own bigotry and righteousness over and over again, will never face justice.

Do you think those cultivators and the public will ever feel any regret for the innocent people they condemned to death in their own prejudice and blind self-righteousness? Do you think the people who gathered at Nightless City to call for Wei Wuxian's death considered for one second that he was the biggest reason they won the war? When the cultivators who sacked the Wen settlement at the Burial Mounds threw the bodies of the Wens into the blood pool, do you think that was a sign of shame?

Do you think Jiang Cheng will ever regret leading a siege on a small settlement of innocent farmers? Do you think he's haunted by condemning to death the same people whom he owes his life to?

Do you think those people like Yao-zongzhu will ever feel an ounce of remorse for so easily believing rumours and hearsay, and spreading speculation and vitriol about innocent people?

Do you think that unnamed cultivator out there will ever lose a single minute of sleep over smashing in Wen Popo's head?

In the years that follow, Wen Ning will have apologized a hundred times for lives he did not take, crimes he did not commit, because of the name he bears. People, both in-universe, and even readers, will condemn him for actions he could not help, for doing the right thing. But did Jiang Cheng ever apologize for killing his family? Did the Jins ever apologize for their horrific treatment of people in the labour camps?

People will continue to demand that Wei Wuxian apologize for causing the deaths of their friends and family. But how is Wei Wuxian meant to do that? No one ever apologized to him for taking his family away. No one ever apologized for condemning the Wen Remnants to death for crimes they took no part in. The Wens were his family too.

There's so much potential for bitterness and corruption in MDZS. Instead of saving everyone, Wei Wuxian could've stood aside and let the people who tried to kill him die. MDZS could've been a story of succumbing to hatred and grief, but it wasn't. MXTX could've gone on and on about how society wronged the protagonist, but she didn't. The narrative is one of forgiveness and moving beyond past grievances. The story chose to close the story on a positive note. I truly love that aspect of MDZS, where MXTX leaves just enough room for hope and love at the end.

A-Yuan will finally get his closure about the family he lost as a toddler. Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian get their happy ending together after being separated by nearly two decades by war, miscommunication, cruelty, and death.

Wei Wuxian will never regret protecting survivors of an attempted genocide, because it was the right thing to do.

And Wen Ning will still stand in the way and take a fatal blow meant for Jin Ling, despite everything the Jins and Jiang Cheng did to the people he loved.

Because they chose love. Characters like Wei Wuxian and Wen Ning and Lan Wangji have the chance to move on and live a happier life because when they could've succumbed to hurt and fury and resentment, they chose to be kind and do the right thing. Wangxian get their happy ending because they learn to recognize the toxicity of the cultivation society's self-cannibalizing prejudice, and chose to pursue righteousness above personal benefit.

MDZS isn't a story about good people getting good things. Just look at what happened to Xiao Xingchen. There's really nothing satisfying or cathartic about everyone's fates at all. There's no promise about society facing the consequences of their mob mentality or Wangxian actually changing the world together. Even in TGCF, for all its makings of a love story, we get the promise of societal change once Jun Wu is deposed.

It has all the makings to be a tragedy or tale of vengeance of epic proportions - but instead, it's a love story. It's a story about making the best of what you've got, and staying true to yourself and your morals, even if that's sometimes a bitter pill to swallow. It's a story where everything that could go wrong went wrong, but the characters still managed to fight their way to a better ending by choosing kindness. At its core, MDZS is a testament to choosing compassion over cruelty no matter how tragic and hopeless life gets, no matter how long the journey gets. Even though the happy ending is more personal and only applies to the specific characters, even though we don't actually get the promise of their society becoming a better place - we still have the hope that Wei Wuxian's second chance brings. The hope that sometimes, no matter how cruel the world is, some people who deserve it still get their happy endings. That's what makes MDZS such a memorable work of art. That's why it stays with you.

[goldenasirpa]

The thing about Ekko seeing other-timeline Powder is that, critically, she isn't all that different from Jinx.

Ekko spent his later childhood years convincing himself that Powder was gone, that Jinx had replaced her, and that she was an evil force. Of course life isn't so simple, and Ekko still can't kill Jinx when the time comes- something that is probably eating away at him even when he is thrust into another timeline.

But Ekko also knows that only Jinx can help him build the machine to send them back. As much as he was focused on how this Powder was different from his, he had to focus on their similarities in order to get home. Any incidental differences they have beyond that just proves, over and over, that Jinx is a product of circumstance, not some entity that was formed completely separate to Powder.

Because Jinx is Powder.

And that's why Ekko goes right to her when he returns to his own timeline, too. If he could believe that some part of Jinx was in (a completely different) Powder, so too he had to accept that some part of Powder was still in Jinx. It's interesting because, in a way, Vi has to come to terms with this same thing, in a different way. She also desperately wants to believe that her sister is gone, and that only Jinx remains, because it would make things easier for all of them. It would definitely make killing Jinx easier, anyway. But she can't do it. Because she knows that deep down, no matter what anyone says, they are the same person. But in accepting that, Violet is forced to confront how she contributed to creating 'Jinx' in the first place.

I don't think we talk about it quite enough; but Ekko is the reason that ALL of this happened. Ekko followed Jayce home and gave Vi and Powder the info that led to robbing him. Which led to the Hextech explosion, which led to the manhunt, which led to Vander and Milo and Claggor and Benzo's death, Vi's imprisonment, and critically, the creation of Jinx. Ekko is just as responsible for Jinx as Vi or Silco, and I truly believe that has been eating him up for years.

But when he goes to this other universe, he has to face an even more difficult reality; that these events were, in a way, also completely random. Because in this other universe, Ekko's actions were the exact same, but the outcome was different. Sure, he was guilty of Violet's death, but he also could see the direct path between that random tragedy and a significantly better future. What paved the path to this better future? What was critically different between these two worlds? Just Vi's death? No.

Forgiveness.

Silco forgiving Vander, sure- but also, presumably, Powder forgiving Ekko for the part he played in Violets death. To me, this is what their 'romance' story is about beyond any genuine feelings that Ekko may have for Powder. Ekko receives unconditional forgiveness, something he isn't expecting. And he goes back to his home timeline with the truth sitting right in front of him; that only forgiveness can save them now. And he knows that it must start where he is hurting the most, so of course, he goes straight to Jinx.

It's less that Ekko forgives Jinx, more that he forgives himself the responsibility for all that death. He let's go of his guilt, his anger, and he embraces... Well, love is the wrong word. Ekko embraces duty, and knows now that this duty includes compassion for those at the very fringes of society; in this case, Jinx (who represents the most mentally ill and traumatized among us, but my essay about how every character in Arcane is actually just a social archetype is an essay for another day).

But it literally saves everyone. Ekko, and his huge heart, spares their future.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Garden of Secrets [40] - Laurel

A.N: The last 3 chapters! ❤️Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤️ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think❤️

Summary: An engagement ball can be followed by an unexpected surprise.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of sex, mentions of threats.

Word Count: 3000

Series Masterlist

Technically you knew planning an engagement ball was bound to be stressful, of course you did.

But from the way Lottie was treating it, you were beginning to think it was a life-and-death situation.

“Lottie you do realize you didn’t have to come here to make sure me and Ben are coming to the engagement ball?” you asked “Don’t get me wrong, I’m always glad to see you but there is no way we’d miss it. No matter how much Benedict whines about you and Anthony getting married, he’s actually happy for you.”

“Oh I know!” she said as she sat beside you on the bench. You were in the garden, enjoying your book in the gazebo after having spent hours in the greenhouse while Benedict was busy with his painting in his studio. “I cannot stay long because I must go to the Bridgerton House but before that, I figured I could come here and give you this.”

She put the wrapped rectangular box that she was holding into your lap and you tilted your head.

“What is this?”

“This is sort of a thank you for accepting to be my maid of honor,” she said, making you smile.

“Lottie, you really shouldn’t have…” you said as you unwrapped the box and held your breath when you saw the chocolates. “I take it back, I’m glad you did.”

She let out a laugh as you hugged her and pulled back to look at her better.

“It’s my privilege to be your maid of honor,” you said as you popped a chocolate into your mouth and offered her, but she shook her head.

“I feel as if I’m in the most pleasant dream,” she whispered like she was giving you a secret. “I never thought Tony would love me back and the funny part is—”

“He never thought you’d love him back?”

“Yes!” she said. “Can you believe it?”

“I absolutely can,” you said with a laugh, then reached out to hold her hand. “I’m really happy for you.”

“Thank you!”

You grabbed another piece of chocolate, then chewed on it.

“So are you very excited for the engagement ball?”

“Very tense, more likely,” she said. “I hope everyone will like it.”

“Of course they will,” you assured her. “And you’re not doing it for them, you’re doing it for you.”

“That is something I must repeat to myself a lot, yes,” she said with a sigh. “I mean don’t get me wrong, I’m so happy about the wedding and such but I’m also happy for the time I’ll get to be alone with Tony after all this.”

“I know how that feels,” you said, smiling slightly and she looked around.

“Benny is in his studio?”

“Mm hm, painting.”

“I must go but you must give him my regards.”

“You don’t want to say hello to him?”

“I’m not going to interrupt him while he’s painting, he might lose focus,” she said and stood up, then kissed you on the cheek. “I will see both of you tonight?”

“Cross my heart,” you said and hugged her. “Tell the family I said hello!”

“Will do!” she said and walked away, and you looked back at the house before making your way there. You hummed a song to yourself, still carrying the box of chocolates, and climbed the stairs, then walked down the hallway to approach the closed door of the studio.

You only hesitated for a moment before knocking on the door, then stepped back.

“Yes?” Benedict’s voice carried outside and you smiled slightly.

“You’ve been awfully quiet, is there something terrible going on there?”

The footsteps came closer, then the door opened halfway, letting you see him and you repressed a grin. He looked handsome as always but there were traces of paint all over his hands and his white shirt, and his hair was tousled as if he had been running his hands through it the way he always would when he was stressed. You tilted your head.

“Did you lose a fight with the canvas or something?”

“I’m winning actually,” he said as he gave you an excited grin and you leaned sideways to the doorframe, then held up the box.

“Do you want a chocolate?”

“God yes,” he said and grabbed one to pop it into his mouth. “Where did this come from?”

“Lottie dropped by, she didn’t want to interrupt you while you were painting,” you said. “She brought me chocolates to thank me for accepting to be her maid of honor.”

Benedict blinked a couple of times. “Wait, we get treats for that?”

“I got treats for that,” you corrected him. “You’re the best man, what did Anthony give you?”

“…A speech.”

You clicked your tongue. “Ah well, that sounds like the consequences of your choices.”

“He’s my brother, I honestly did not have a choice in that,” he said, eyeing the chocolates. “How come you get chocolates and I get a speech?”

“Probably because I’m nicer than you,” you said with a grin. “There’s no other explanation here.”

“Mm hm, I’m sure.”

“So the painting?” you asked, standing on your tiptoes to sneak a look inside but he tut-tutted, blocking your view.

“Not yet.”

“What’s it about?”

“You’ll see,” he said. “Y/N, I can’t explain, I…ever since that night, it’s like I’m more inspired than I’ve ever been in my entire life.”

You could feel the warmth spreading inside your chest and you shifted your weight, letting a smile pull at your lips.

“And yet I cannot see it?” you asked, nodding in the direction of the room and he shook his head.

“Not yet, but you will be the first person to see it once it’s finished.”

You hummed, pretending to be in deep thought. “Do you promise?”

He smiled softly, then leaned in to brush his lips against yours, making you heave a happy sigh.

“On my honor,” he said. “You’ll see it before anyone else.”

“Very well, I guess I’ll leave you alone to work on it,” you said. “Just don’t forget, we must be at Lottie and Anthony’s engagement party before eight o’clock.”

He made a face. “After Anthony’s huge speech about responsibilities, how could I?”

“See, the speech was useful,” you pointed out, and walked away from him, popping a chocolate into your mouth. “But chocolates are still better!”

                                                    *

You had to admit, though you knew Lottie and Anthony’s engagement ball would be beautiful, even you did not see this coming. Every single guest looked like they were having so much fun while Anthony and Lottie seemed like they were in their own happy bubble, as if blind to anyone else in the ballroom.

“Anthony a married man…” Colin murmured as he sipped his drink while Eloise shook her head. “Now I know the world is coming to an end.”

Benedict grinned. “You do realize what it means right?” he asked. “Mother will focus on only you two the next season.”

“This is your fault, you know?” Eloise asked and Benedict tilted his head.

“How is that?”

“First you, then Daph…” she tilted her glass in Daphne and Simon’s direction who were talking to Lady Danbury and Lady Bridgerton on the other side of the ballroom. “And now Anthony. Even Colin almost got married this season!”

“The season of scandals,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders and Colin heaved a sigh.

“Has someone put the whole family under a spell I wonder.”

“Not me,” Eloise said. “I remain to be the smartest among you all.”

Benedict pushed her shoulder with his in a joking manner. “Does this mean you’re not looking forward to the next season when you will have so many suitors to entertain, El?”

“You take that back!”

“I’ll help you threaten them,” you assured Eloise. “Don’t worry. Eloise before I forget, do you want a knife?”

“She does not want a knife,” Benedict answered in a haste before Eloise could. “I do not trust her with a knife.”

“I second that,” Colin said and Eloise leaned in so that she could whisper into your ear.

“Please tell me you’re getting me a knife.”

You winked at her and nodded, then sipped your drink.

“When we return to Aubrey Hall in two weeks, we will have nowhere to run,” Eloise said. “I mean I can’t stay at your house because you two are sickeningly in love, and so are Daphne and Simon, and now, Anthony and Lottie. Where am I supposed to go to in order to see no romance?”

“It is a challenge,” you said and Colin shot you a look.

“Did you miss the part she said you two are sickeningly in love?” he asked. “I mean you’ve always been but lately it’s even…it’s different, it’s much more than before.”

You and Benedict exchanged glances and you pursed your lips to hold back your grin while Benedict ran a hand over his mouth to keep his expression straight.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he managed to say and Lady Bridgerton raised a hand to motion at them to come over. Eloise heaved a sigh and looked up at Colin.

“Come on,” she said and Colin downed his drink, then they both made their way to her. You looked around, standing on your tiptoes.

“Have you seen Josie?” you asked. “Or Andrew, or Bess?”

“Not yet,” Benedict said. “I’m sure they will be here soon.”

“Hello you two!” Lottie’s cheerful voice reached you, making you turn around. She threw herself into your arms and you hugged her tight, smiling wide. Anthony grabbed the glass from Benedict’s hand and took a sip, making him frown.

“Get your own God damn glass!”

“Every time any footman makes his way to me, someone pulls us into a conversation,” Anthony said, still holding Lottie’s hand with his free hand. “I swear to you, I couldn’t even eat anything yet.”

“Still doesn’t explain why you’re taking my glass—”

“I’m the oldest, that’s why.”

“This is your engagement ball!”

“I could give you my glass Tony,” Lottie said like a melody and Anthony pressed a kiss on the back of her hand.

“No need my love.”

“Everyone has so much to tell us,” Lottie told Benedict. “So much advice about marriage too, it’s rather overwhelming.”

“Probably they’re still waiting for you to wake up and see the light and change your mind about marrying him Charlie, the wedding is next week so it’s not too late—”

“Benedict!”

“I mean he stole my drink, is this really the type of person you want to grow old with?” Benedict motioned at Anthony with a grin while Anthony rolled his eyes.

“Unbelievable.”

“I’m still working on your wedding present by the way,” he told her, making her gasp. “It should be ready by the time the social season is over.”

“You got us a wedding present? Aw Benny, you shouldn’t have!”

“Yeah well, if you can’t fight it…” Benedict said with a shrug but the happy grin on his face told a different story than his pretend nonchalance. Lottie pulled him into a hug, and he hugged her back.

“Congratulations to you both by the way,” Benedict said as Lottie pulled back, “In case I forgot to say that. I really am happy for you.”

“That is uncharacteristically mindful of him, is this your doing?” Anthony asked you and you let out a laugh.

“I’d love to take credit but no.”

“And how is it going with the plan—” Anthony started but cleared his throat when Benedict shot him a look. “The plan with the…the art thing that you uh—that you do?”

You pulled your brows together. “Hm?”

“I have this plan for a new painting,” Benedict said. “It’s going quite well brother.”

“Keep me informed about that, will you?”

“Sure—”

“Oh isn’t this the happy couple?” A lady you didn’t even know touched Lottie’s arm. “Do you two mind if I borrowed them?”

“Of course not,” you said and Anthony heaved a dramatic sigh while Lottie squeezed his arm as if trying to console him.

“We will see you later,” she said and both Anthony and she followed the lady to the small crowd on the other side of the ballroom. You pressed your lips together to hide your smile, then looked up at Benedict.

“What plan?”

Benedict turned to you. “Hm?”

“What plan was he talking about?”

“I told you,” Benedict said with a shrug of his shoulders, then held out his hand. “Just the painting, that’s all. A dance, my lady?”

                                                *

By the time the ball was over, it was almost dawn. Lottie looked like she was about to pass out from exhaustion, so you gave her a quick hug, then you and Benedict told everyone else you would see them the next day and -which was technically today- and got on the carriage.

“Is it just me or was Andrew a bit distracted?” you asked while the carriage moved through the street and Benedict thought for a moment, then shook his head.

“Probably because Felix wasn’t there?”

“Maybe,” you murmured and rested your head on his chest, letting out a small groan. “I’m so tired.”

Benedict buried his nose into your hair, throwing his arm over your shoulder so that he could hold you tighter.

“At least they’ll have their wedding before we all go back to countryside,” he said. “I wouldn’t be expecting any other ball from them for at least next season.”

“Because they’ll be very busy?” you asked with a grin and he made a face.

“Yeah yeah… Please don’t remind me.”

“What are you getting them as their wedding present?”

“I’m going to paint their portrait together,” he said as you pulled back to look at him better, your jaw dropping. “And send it to Aubrey Hall because I honestly think when I see my sweet Charlie as Anthony’s wife, I might just—”

“Stop with that, I was there when you told them you were happy for them,” you said with a laugh. “So is that what you’re working on then?”

“Not yet,” he said. “I’ll get to it once I’m done with the painting I’m already working on. It’s about to be finished.”

“And I’ll be the first to see?”

“And you’ll be the first to see,” he said with a mischievous smile before kissing you, and the carriage came to a stop. Benedict got out of it and helped you out, and you both started walking to the house, still holding hands.

“So everyone is going back to Aubrey Hall in two weeks then?”

“Well everyone but us and Daphne,” he said as you two climbed the marble stairs leading to the house. “I forgot you still haven’t seen there, or our home in the countryside.”

A warmth spread inside your chest and you took a deep breath.

“But we’re moving all the flowers from this greenhouse to the countryside house?” you felt the need to ask and he nodded his head.

“Of course. Might be a little time because the greenhouse there still hasn’t finished but I was thinking,” he said as you both reached the door and walked through it, entering the foyer. “Maybe we could get some and put them in the house and once the greenhouse is finished—”

“Mr. Bridgerton,” the butler’s voice reached you and you both turned your heads to see him approach you. “There’s a note for you, it arrived a couple hours ago.”  

“Thank you,” Benedict said, taking the letter from him and you tilted your head.

“Just now?” you asked. “That’s not very common, everyone is asleep. Who’s it from?”

Benedict ripped open the envelope to read the note, a grin curling his lips as he got to the end of the lines, and let out a breath.

“Oh thank God, finally.”

“What?” you asked and Benedict lowered the letter, then gave you a soft smile.

“My love, I haven’t been the most honest with you I’m afraid,” he said, making your heart skip a beat and you pulled back slightly, a frown pinching your brows together.

“About what?”

“Me and Andrew, remember we talked the other night?”

You nodded your head, still frowning.

“Well you said your parents didn’t even know Josie was here, but that they were blackmailing her about that letter.”

“Yes?”

“So it got me thinking, if they didn’t even know she was here, there was no reason at all why they would bring the letter with them here.”

You blinked a couple of times. “Uh… I suppose?”

“So we sent someone to the countryside to go find that letter in their house while your parents are here.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “What?”

“Someone we can trust—Anthony knows him, that’s what he was talking about today,” he assured you. “And I told him to take the letter to Andrew and give it to him directly, no one else, but to let me know immediately so…” he held up the note. “He apparently found it and wrote to me that he would wait for Andrew to come home so that he can deliver it in person.”

You could feel the shock taking over your whole mind and you tried to wrap your head around it.

“…You mean to tell me—”

“I mean to tell you that there’s nothing at all they can use against Josie and Bess,” he said. “And they’re not going to hurt you, or Josie, or Teddy. Ever again.”

A relieved laugh spilled from your lips before you flung yourself into his arms and he caught you to hug you tight, pressing a kiss on the top of your head.

“Ben, I don’t know what to say,” you managed to mutter, still in disbelief. “Thank you, you…you didn’t have to help—”

“Your family is my family,” he said. “Of course I will help however I can.”

You looked up at him and stood on your tiptoes to kiss him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I love you,” you said and he gave you a lopsided grin.

“I love you too,” he muttered and leaned in to brush his lips against yours again, making you smile. “In this life and the next, darling.”

Chapter 41

[lisafication]

Digging Graves for your Morals; Or, The Ethical Problem of Outlawry

Hello, yes, I am here again. This one is shorter, I swear (it’s under four thousand words, even). If this is the first post from me you’re seeing, this is a follow-up to my prior essay posted here on the game The Coffin of Andy and Leyley, although it should be able to mostly stand alone.

At the end of my last essay, I touched on both the game’s nearly uncompromising moral scepticism and relativity, but I didn’t really dig into it. I outlined that the game only textually frames actions as ‘morally bad’ in the context of a morality set by the society and the world that has treated them as no better than farm animals raised for the slaughter. Well, I have a lot to say on the topic of ethics on the topic of The Coffin of Andy and Leyley, so buckle in, this one’s going to talk about the social contract, moral scepticism and everyone’s favourite topic: Mrs. Graves.

As usual, this was originally posted and formatted for on Sufficient Velocity and you can perhaps more easily read it there. Spoilers abound, and my content warning from last time still applies.

She’s not too hot on either ethics or her mother

The Meat of the Matter

Since a lot of this is optional or otherwise missable information, let’s review the premise the game gives us. If you’re already aware of all of this, I apologise, it won’t take long.

First off the bat, the quarantine at the start of the game was a hoax-driven money-making scheme of which you can pick up more-or-less all the relevant details of. This is entirely missable and by the time it’s possible to discover, our protagonists have better things to dwell on and have dialogue about, so I’ll give you a summary of what you can deduce from reading the notes and thinking about it.

The quarantine is an organ harvesting operation, as per some documents you can discover in the wardens’ office. They entrap the residents, test their blood types and starve to death those they deem surplus to requirements — alternatively the starvation itself could be their method of ‘preparing the harvest’, there’s evidence in both directions and it hardly matters — harvesting the organs of the others for sale. As our protagonists are AB-typed, the ‘universal recipient’ or ‘most selfish blood type’, they’re some of the first on the chopping block.

If you read through the newspapers and the documents in Mr. Washing Machine’s car, you can discover that ultimately ToxiSoda are responsible, and a similar thing is happening in a different city under the guise of a ‘chemical leak’.  Should you further investigate matters, you will find mentions of the ‘man behind it all’, the doctor, or the Surgeon, as the fandom have been referring to him — you may recall Mrs. Graves mentioned someone similar! Yeah, he’s the guy who runs ToxiSoda, who are themselves partners with the water company that faked the parasite outbreak in the first place.

It’s all a life insurance scam, apparently

How much the details of the operation matter is something open to interpretation — it might just be something for players to figure out and Episode 3 will not cover the Surgeon at all, or he might play a major part; it's not particularly relevant to this essay. What matters is that it happened at all — indeed, it’s fairly easy to justify Ashley and Andrew in everything they did in Episode 1 (flashbacks aside), arguing that if they’d made any other decisions they’d have died — an argument that the victims dug their own graves, even if the Graves siblings put them in them. How correct that is is a matter of debate, but that you can make the argument at all matters, and we’ll be returning to this later. In my last essay (and again in the introduction here), I made an analogy to farm animals, raised without love and for slaughter. Let’s put a pin in the ‘for slaughter’ part for now and take a look at the ‘without love’ part. 

That’s right, it’s time to meet the parents.

As Andrew notes, there are significantly more compelling reasons for you to say that

They Fuck You Up, Your Mum & Dad

They really do. 

Our charming protagonists are, as with many things depicted in this game, an exaggerated, almost farcical example of this phenomenon — one that’s just grounded enough to still feel very real, just like the siblings themselves. 

The late and lamentable Mrs. Graves is just the same: originally a teen mother, hopelessly out of depth with two difficult children — even if one was good at masking it — and an unreliable, emotionally unavailable (at least to their children) partner who can’t hold down a job, ends up foisting them off on each other and doing a Parental Negligence because she simply Cannot Cope. That’s the real part. The part where she gets paid off by an organ harvesting operation to leave them to die, that’s the borderline-farcical exaggeration that throws all the nooks and crannies of her character into sharp relief.

Mrs. Graves does not have a good relationship with either of her kids. Having self-admittedly fobbed the job of raising Ashley off on her son, to the degree that they did not even celebrate her birthday as kids, both of them hold differing degrees and types of resentment for her.

For Ashley, it’s hate — perhaps not quite so clear cut as that, as it’s her that calls for the eulogy and she shows some potential signs of discomfort while cleaning up her parents’ corpses, but by and large, it’s fairly simple and straightforward, as usual for Ashley. The sentiment is not exactly unreturned, either.

This brings Ashley’s heart great delight!

The most clear incident raising her from everyday ‘neglectful’ to ‘wow she wanted nothing to do with this kid’ is the optional ‘birthday cake’ scene, obtained by finding the present in Ashley’s first ‘transitory world’ dream, in which we see Ashley’s birthday  and the founding of a lemon cupcake tradition between Leyley and Andy. She has received nothing from her family, notes that her ‘friends’ would say they were busy before she even told them the schedule and Andy takes her out to buy cupcakes with his pocket money.

This scene gets a callback in Andrew’s dream later. Just remember to Ask Nicely, rather than Kill Her.

Parents of the year, everyone.

So with Ashley it’s as straightforward and obvious as she herself is — she hates her mother, her mother hates her. With Andrew, as with Andrew himself, it’s a fair bit more complicated. His mother is a much more nuanced figure, who is believable in her role as an unfortunate teen parent who was trying her best. He has a degree of trust in her against, seemingly, his own good judgment In her conversation with Andrew, she acknowledges her fault in raising him and seemingly sincerely tries to offer him a ‘way out’, an olive branch.

I think many people have had relationships where they might say this

This scene in particular intrigues me, because she is acknowledging fault in a way that Andrew strictly avoids doing — and well, there’s nothing Andrew likes more than a good way to avoid acknowledging any fault of his own. With her dominant relationship over their father as a model for Andrew to draw comparisons to his own relationship with Ashley with, it’s no surprise that the narrative resonates with him to the point of ‘Accept’ being many people’s first completion.

Of course, that’s not all there is to it. There is a fascinating contrast with her later conversation with Ashley, where she — despite accusing Ashley of brainwashing Andrew — refers to Leyley and Andy as ‘two psychos’ and states that she always knew they were responsible for Nina’s death and that, implicitly, they owe her for not turning them in. 

There's something about mother-daughter relationships here that I just do not have the time or reading to dig into, unfortunately.

Meanwhile, when Andrew interrogates her on her possession of their death certificates, she has… an interesting, plausible story about a life insurance scam and claims that she really did think they died in the fire, implicitly denying the claim that she sold them. It’s entirely possible that she’s describing the details of the ‘scam’ correctly — you can even buy that she genuinely does care for Andrew in some way, if not Ashley, but her claim about being an honest, grieving parent shocked at their deaths… doesn’t add up?

This is a very normal reaction to your supposedly dead children showing up in your house.

As Andrew himself notes after hearing her story, she’s full of shit. This gets into speculation, because there are a few ways to read this, but the most plausible ‘gist’ is that she and her partner were paid off in money and jobs to not raise a fuss — the surgeon she mentioned is almost certainly the founder of ToxiSoda, remember?

The overwhelming difference in presentation between how she speaks to Andrew and Ashley invites investigation — and when Andrew turns down her offer and tells her he isn’t interested in her offer in Decline, her reaction isn’t… despair, it’s shock — and well, there’s a good reason for that.

Why do you think she did it in the first place?

This is the happiest we see her

Well — it’s so she can finally fit into society. That white picket fence, that idyllic 1950s life — hell you can call it the American Dream. She wants that, or as close to it as she can get — the working-class teen mother, living in poverty, aspiring to the middle-class. It’s a very common, very real and very grounded motivation.

And to that end, she effectively sold off her children. It’s no wonder she can’t fathom why Andrew wouldn’t choose the same.

That’s the part that makes you think — just like the deaths in Episode 1, well- maybe the siblings are justified here, too. It’s a weaker argument, but it’s still one you can make under many common moral paradigms today — what goes around comes around, all that jazz. Just look at how awful she was to Ashley.

She’s finally found what she’s been striving for.

Here’s the thing, here’s the thing though — what, reasonably, could she have done? Andrew and Ashley briefly highlight this in conversation about Ashley’s ‘friends’ in Episode 1 — was she supposed to fight gunmen to try and break them out? Throw food to the balcony from four stories?

Moreover, as she herself says to Andrew… would anyone really have been able to do better than her in her position? She was seventeen when Ashley was born, living in poverty with a partner who couldn’t even remember Andrew’s name when he was a kid. Anyone would have had difficulty, let alone with these kids.

Her evils are — they’re not any deliberate action, but rather… prompted inaction. She didn’t have the emotional energy, resources or plain capability to properly parent her children, she didn’t have any solutions to their murder of Nina in a state so blatantly hostile to its underclass, she didn’t have a way to connect with Ashley and she took the money rather than fight a futile and likely suicidal battle against a corporation and its armed goons in a dystopian setting.

Ashley, notably, does not deny this.

Her sin is the one we’re all, I think, guilty of — that of not trying hard enough, that of inaction in the face of difficult tasks, of not standing up on principle because it’s just too much that day and you don’t have the spoons, you’ll do it tomorrow (no you won’t). It’s a petty, everyday kind of evil — that of not doing enough. 

Is that enough to condemn her? Certainly, there’s a pretty manipulative read of her that likely has some truth to it — in the locked door in Ashley’s dream in ‘Decay’ you can discover that she has a ‘not-hatched’ tar soul — but consider that lens — the game won’t make up your mind for you, so you’ll need to choose that for yourself.

The dad is interesting in terms of negative space — but he’s mostly important in that he doesn’t matter, so I decided to not fit him in here. He has art, though — just no sprite, because, well, he’s never mattered to either sibling.

The Contract We Call Society

Right, it’s time to get a little bit Theoretical in here. Not much, but a little. Social contract theory is a complex topic with a lot of nuance, much of which I will be eliding in the name of not writing a twenty thousand word paper on semiotics, law, and anthropology, but the short analogy is… the idea that as long as you play by society’s rules, as long as you are a good citizen, a good person, the state, or the community, will take care of you.

In a number of ways, the harshest penalty levied by many historical states and legal codes was not death, but rather the criminal status of outlawry, a practice that’s cropped up a number of times in history — the practice of no longer being protected by the law. This meant one could be killed or worse with impunity — you were no longer protected by mob justice and, while overexaggerated as a term of reference, certain texts from Medieval England refer to outlaws as bearing a wolfshead, ‘for the wolf is a beast hated by all folk’. Never minding that wolves are actually delightful, this was a time when wolves were actively hunted and sold by people — and the same was intended to happen to outlaws. They were ‘fair targets’ as far as society was concerned, no longer to be treated as your fellow citizens.

This was the gravest punishment on the books, for most of these legal codes — something saved for those who had broken the social contract so completely that there could be no turning back (civil outlawry is… a bit different, that’s not the topic here). Among others, a modern critique of the concept is that it offers no incentive for improvement, no incentive to change or to cease harming society — if an outlaw has none of the social contract’s protections, what reason do they have to obey… any of the social contract? If that seems familiar, well, let me ask you this:

What if the state or community fails its end first? What responsibility does the innocent outlaw have to that contract?

It’s an interesting phrasing, that the world is better off.

It’s time to talk about the incest, and part of why it’s there. The cannibalism too, but that’s less impactful here. If you’ve seen me elsewhere, you might have seen me say that the incest is a load-bearing narrative pillar — in large part due to it being a critical facet of the siblings’ relationship, but in another large part due to it being an equally critical part of how the game uses taboo.

A taboo is in this context something that is considered repulsive and to be avoided by society. It’s a more complex term than that — you can also use it for certain sacred actions or utterances that are only permitted to certain people, for example — but that’s what it is here. Swearing, premarital sex, BDSM and murder are, approximately from weak to strong, some example taboos held in modern Anglospheric society. 

Strong taboos are a staple of horror — they shock, they disgust, they draw people’s attention and it’s that last one that’s critical here. Incest is a very strong taboo — while I am absolutely not segueing into its historical context, the very well-established Westermarck effect gives it a certain timelessness and immunity to desensitisation that most other taboos don’t have — murder, to contrast, is a taboo we’re largely desensitised to in modern media and works of modern media have to put in actual work to make a murder seem horrifying — through atmosphere, cinematography, evocative prose etc.

And this is important because the use of taboo I’m covering in this essay is that the incest is used to invite judgment — it is so ingrained as a ‘wrong thing’ in people’s brains almost regardless of background that it forces the player to engage with the work morally. And that’s where the fun starts.

I’ve mentioned before, very briefly, about the juxtaposition of tone between the Burial & Decay endings, contrasting with the very monstrous difference in morality. Burial is remarkably light-hearted — they play around with the drain blockage, they joke about their mother’s personality and this is further exaggerated on the Love path, where Andrew is much more comfortable with casual contact and the two make a game out of how far they can throw their parents’ skulls, the humour is directly contrasted against their abhorrent actions.

I’ll be real Ashley is far more merciful than I, I’m shuddering at the thought of that gunk in my hair

In comparison, Decay is… bleak. I’ve seen it being referred to as being ‘emotionally sandblasted’ and, yeah I think that’s fair — it’s uncomfortable, it’s heavy and it’s just not fun. And this is the route in which, if you chose Trust into Accept, Andrew has bought into the narrative that his mother’s offered — that he can fit just fine into society if he wasn’t stuck, if not for Ashley — the route that ‘fits’ most closely to the social contract, to Andrew feeling the guilt that we think he should and hating the monsters that they’ve become, as the social contract deems them. Given the pains the game takes to attach the player to the protagonists, this normative moral ending is very easily interpreted as the bad ending.

And well, isn’t it?

Thing is, as mentioned above, the social contract has never held up its end for them. The game takes careful pains to point out to a viewer that they’ve never had the life that society promises people, so why do its moral standards apply?

The game invites you to judge the characters, and in the same motion, asks you from what principles you judge them, making a pretty good guess in that, like most people who haven’t spent a large amount of time navel-gazing and reading some very boring books by very dusty old men, they come from the society around you.

Love even has Ashley express this sentiment directly after the incestuous dream — she asks you — well, Andrew, but this is also something for the player to mull over — why this is what’s engaged your morality or sense of revulsion, rather than the desecration, cannibalism or murder.

Andrew and Ashley are both very funny and very fascinating in this scene.

And that’s the framing that it casts all of its own moral judgement in — even the ‘tar-soul’ aspect is… well, it’s unclear what it even means. Mrs. Graves was a ‘not-hatched’ tar soul, after all. Other than that, it’s society and the world being better off without them, rather than any kind of assertion of objective morality. Due to the present of ‘soul colour’, we’ll presumably see the game make some moral statements in Episode 3, but as it stands?

It’s nearly completely morally sceptical, in and of itself — it’s not interested in moral assertions or education, it’s interested in making you question your own morals. Deconstructive (not that kind), rather than dialectic, to be mildly pretentious.

It uses taboo and shock to invite moral judgement, but then uses tone, charm and our instinct to look for the happiest end for our blorbos to get you to recognise that these are principles you yourself brought into the game, rather than any it’s handed you. 

To summarise: you’ve brought these principles in from society, but what do the siblings, the protagonists, the villains to the world, owe society? Enough that they should follow them? It failed them first, after all.

Closing Thoughts

This one is a bit less energetic than the last, tragically — my sleeping schedule is the stuff of nightmares recently, I love windy weather. Wait, no the opposite. Huge thank you to everyone who commented on the last one, you are the wind beneath my wings and the main reason I managed to get this out this week.

This essay is a bit more interpretative than my last one — certainly, there are alternative readings and I’ve been toying with the idea of deliberately taking a reading I don’t like very much and writing from that perspective as a demonstrative exercise recently — mostly that you shouldn’t just take my word for things!

Otherwise, if the last bit at the end seemed murky, I apologise — I did try to write a more detailed version, but firstly, it was three thousand words and secondly, I re-read it the next day and I could not understand what the fuck I was talking about. Personally, I blame Derrida — suffice to say that I strongly recommend playing through it with an eye towards considering culpability, morality and why you think certain characters are more or less forgivable than others, and for what deeds. See what you get out of it.

I managed to keep one particular thread open to wrap up with here —  I try to keep speculation on Episode 3 content to a minimum in the main essays, but it should be fine here — you might have noticed that I refer to Episode 1 and Episode 2 being on something of a spectrum of justifiability, with the siblings’ actions being ‘more’ justifiable in Episode 1 and ‘less’ justifiable — but still justifiable if you try — in Episode 2. 

To continue the thought of the happiest ending being the one in which they step the furthest away from common morality and to further jar the viewers’ sense of morality by contrasting societal morality and blorbo-oriented morality, Episode 3: Burial could continue this trend in having a major victim be someone who, well, has done nothing wrong and isn’t even guilty of bystander syndrome.

I wonder if there’s any good candidates, someone who’s sweet, harmless and will indisputably be an innocent victim…

…I’m sure she’ll be fine

[thethiefandtheairbender]

Had a good chat with my partner about it today that maybe let me put a finger on what's always bugged me about "we're here to fix canon" attitudes being so prevalent in fandom (especially in the past 10ish years) throughout my life. This is not to say there's never a time or place for that (I've written fix its myself, or the occasional meta on how something could be fixed/improved) or that people are wrong to (we're anti fandom policing). It's also not an issue to me on the basis of "I love my blorbo in canon and fandom mischaracterizes them in the name of 'fixing' them" etc as it is just... coming from a fundamentally different perspective for story analysis / interaction than most (not all) people in fandom, I think.

One of the reasons I enjoyed getting my English degree was because I was finally being encouraged to and taught in alignment with what my brain had always be inclined to do: you always assume that there's a reason, and a good reason, for the story to do whatever it's doing. It assumes that the story is already exactly what it is supposed to be as it is supposed to be, and it's up to you to find the reasons Why.

The story was boring, or made you feel uncomfortable/bad, or you couldn't root for a character or relationship? All of that, at least at the beginning, doesn't really Matter. You assume that the story is paced fine, you assume the discomfort was intentional or part of something broader (historical shit that hasn't aged well) or that the dichotomy of "I feel invested or not invested" isn't useful. And in doing so, you replace all that with asking why.

An example I'll use is 1984 by George Orwell. I read that book in high school and I fucking hated it. Normally, I like the protagonist the most in anything I watch/read, but in that book, I loathed both the two leads and were actively rooting for them to be captured and tortured so the book could end faster; it was an actively miserable affair. I don't think that was necessarily the author's intention (certain amount of death of the author is baked in, but for a lot of the texts I was reading, we didn't even know the author or anything substantial about them, i.e. Beowulf) but, more importantly, I don't think any of those things are Flaws or downsides in the text.

Part of this is because 1984 is a dystopian novel (if a romcom book breaks genre convention that badly where you're miserable reading it, yeah, maybe something went wrong, but more on that in a minute) but even then it doesn't really matter on the basis of genre; I'm sure some people read 1984 and felt fascinated/excited while reading.

Rather, the focus becomes: what do I find so unlikeable about the protagonists? Why would they be written that way (on purpose)? What does it say about the society they live in? What does it say about their characterization, social stratification, etc etc? If a character does something that I think is non-sensical, why? Have I missed something? Should I watch retrospectively for clues? Is there another way to engage and to understand? Is what I label as confusion potentially a, or the, Point?

It is only after finding the reasons, and/or finding them unsuitable, that I let my subjective feelings into play. While a story can have great merit on the basis of relatability, relatability or "this aligns with my worldview / expectations / desires / etc." is not the be-all end-all of discerning quality

For example, I'm never going to be a fan of Jane and Rochester (she's 18, he's her 40 year old employer who routinely lies to her) but there are reasons, Good reasons, they get together in Jane Eyre (a book so subjectively boring I struggled through it twice) in response to both when the book was written and with the book's themes / symbols / their characterization. If they didn't end up together, it would be a fundamentally different story; it would not be Jane Eyre. So objectively, it's fine and an understandably massive influence on the western literary canon; subjectively, it's so fucking bad and I'm so glad I never have to read it again. But if I stopped there with my lack of interest or dislike of the main romance, I'd be missing out on what the text has to offer as well, the text.

This applies to more modern day stuff as well. I don't like Double Trouble from SheRa as nonbinary representation, and I'm nonbinary myself; however, I can acknowledge that the things I don't like about them were probably simultaneously empowering and exactly what the author (who is also nonbinary) wanted to be per his own experience of gender. Having a "I assume the text is right" mindset means that I can hold space for my own feelings/analysis (i.e. I also did not like Catra's arc, as I think she needed to learn other things / be written under a different lens) while holding space for the text as is (under the canonical lens of Catra learning it's never too late to be saved, I think her arc is conclusive and well done). And these two viewpoints aren't fundamentally opposed, but can coexist as analytical soup, being equally true / having equal value under the subjective (my view) and more 'objective' (the canon text's construction, or what I / the scholarly consensus, if it exists, believes it to be, anyway) at the same time.

Again, none of this is to say that you can't take issue with a canon text, or want to change something. I remember one time I was watching a show where their refusal to explore a romantic relationship between the female lead and her guy best friend was actively making the show worse; I understood their reasonings of wanting to put them with other people to explore their relationships, and wanting to emphasize a male-female friendship at the core of the story, and I still wanted them to put the two together as a Ship instead for various reasons. But that doesn't mean my line of thinking would've been Objectively Better—assuming if they had been paired together would've been executed in the manner I'd enjoy, or that them being paired with other people couldn't have been executed in ways I would've enjoyed more—merely that I likely would've enjoyed the series more per my own subjective preferences.

What I see in fandom sometimes is that people, understandably, aren't approaching at the start from a "the story always has a good reason" as much as they are speed-running from a "this didn't make sense to me or felt bad/off" and maybe examining why (which is supremely useful!) but not going back to examine the other side of the coin as to why the story would do it anyway.

Because sometimes the story—or a part of a story—is still 'bad' to us. It's just worthwhile to look at why it's 'good,' too.

[briarpatch-kids]

I'm trying to think of a way to articulate my feelings on like... what cripplepunk actually means. There's a lot of talk on who can call themselves a cripple but not too much on how like... if someone describes the economy as "crippled" they're saying it doesn't work. If someone is described as having "crippling" social anxiety, they mean that person is so anxious they can't function in society so they might as well be a cripple.

Cripple means broken and useless. We're seen as a bad and redundant part of society, something to be fixed or forgotten about.

CripplePUNK is about taking that place in society, really a not-place, and saying yeah, I AM worthless to most of society, people don't want to be me or be around me because I make them uncomfortable just by existing. We're considered the lowest of the low and the most useless of the useless. We used to be called invalids for a reason. And fuck you my life is worth it anyways. I'm going to give my worthless life the meaning I choose to give it. I'm not going to spend my entire life trying to be a good cripple and do all my physical therapy and eat perfectly and be nice to people who "didn't mean it" and everything else to try and be worthy of respect from people who think my life is worth than death, I'm going to do what I think is worthwhile and if you don't like me or like the way I live then you can go fuck yourself.

If you're not willing to take on all the baggage of being a cripple, cool. A lot of people don't want that, but cripplepunk is about throwing your disability and your 'uselessness' to society back in their face and experiencing disability on your own terms.

It's also acknowledging some people DON'T make it and their lives were just as worthwhile no matter how short.

[northern-passage]

No Pride with Genocide!

You have probably seen the grotesque images of jubilant Israeli soldiers holding the pride flag on top of our scorched Gazan lands infiltrating social media feeds last week. The Israel State cynically publishes on its Twitter account, “The first ever pride flag raised in Gaza,” as it proceeds with its genocidal crusade and its concomitant Zionist propaganda campaign. We view these images with immense feelings of frustration and uttermost disgust, and we see through their despicable tactics of weaponizing homophobia and queer violence for colonial means. The following are notes from Queers in Palestine, elaborating on what such imagery tries to accomplish and what underpins their production:

1. Zionist Colonization is Anti-Civilization 

Colonial and Imperial powers have long used their fabricated lies of “civilization,” “rights,” and “democracy” to justify their plunder, military rule, and capitalist accumulation. We learn this from global histories of European colonization across Abya Yala, Asia, Africa, Turtle Island, Aotearoa, and Australia. The Zionist colonization of Palestine is no different. Oftentimes, the pretext of all of these bloodied invasions is that the “civilized” world is invading racialized communities to bring culture, education, and liberalism and instill it in societies it deems barbaric, immoral, and uncivilized. The images of the LGBT flag supposedly claim to bring rights and liberties to Gaza, but unironically, the soldier stands on top of the debris of hopes, dreams, and human remains of Palestinians he himself and the army he serves bombed moments before. The flag merely stands to reaffirm the simulacrum of colonization, death, white supremacy, and destruction. 

2. Israel Erases Palestinian Queerness

The images of the Israel Pride Flag and the other with the text, “In the name of love” send a clear message: Israel will not allow queer liberation unless it’s through its settler-colonial genocidal project. To that, we say No! We queer Palestinians have a vibrant, diverse liberation movement that is part of the Palestinian anti-colonial movement. For decades, we have been tirelessly working on carving up and maintaining a space for Palestinian queer life amongst our communities and not despite them. We are everywhere: in schools, streets, prisons, hospitals, and at the forefront of every confrontation in every corner of Palestine, from the river to the sea. What we are working towards is a Palestine liberated from colonialism, patriarchy, and capitalist exploitation.

3. Queer Opacity in Times of Hypervisibility

In a time when Palestinians are being prosecuted without trial, student movements shut-down and students in universities suspended and detained, and solidarity with Palestine and Palestinians at large are attacked and criminalized, visibility has proven itself to be a frontline of resistance against the erasure of Palestinians worldwide. In Palestine, Israel’s surveillance apparatuses hunt any expression for Palestine’s right to exist as grounds to attack, incarcerate, and murder Palestinian life. This over-fixation on the supposed lack of Palestinian queer visibility steers the attention from Israel’s campaign against all Palestinians – workers, activists, students, feminists, queers, and otherwise. Israel and its allies dangerously decontextualize the violence queers suffer from its historical colonial roots, and dissociate it from the impacts of current settler-colonial violence. This is an attempt to portray Palestinian society as unsafe for queers to legitimize the annihilation of our people, and in turn our annihilation as queers. Under Israel’s surveillance & police state, visibility, opacity and invisibility are survival and resistance tactics we use interchangeably, and aren’t always a matter of choice. None of us is safe under settler-colonization.

4. These Images Endanger Queer People Worldwide

The Pride Flag has long been hijacked and homonationalised. It represents a narrow and limited understanding of gender and sexuality and excludes the myriad of sexualities in the colonized world. This homonationalism renders colonized sexual and gender attitudes illegible to the liberal gaze and forces us to speak a language that compromises our experiences. Under nationalist and colonial regimes, our bodies and sexualities will always be regulated. What the pride flag has come now to represent is a commercial, imperialist, and white supremacist sexual ideologies, and this, in turn, puts us queer people in danger. This homonationalist project hinders our fight against anti-queer violence within our communities because our identities and sexualities are constantly being hijacked by the empires and colonies that brought destruction upon us. We need to reject such associations that only strengthen queerphobia in colonized societies, especially during this time in Arab and Muslim communities, when the soldiers and armies that are destroying our homes and killing our parents, siblings, friends, and children are doing so in the name of LGBT rights. 

5. Colonialism & Empire are Anti-Queerness

In the past, colonial projects sought to eliminate any sex-gender organization systems that fell outside of the European binary patriarchal model of man-woman. We learn this from the British criminalization of the Hijra in South Asia, or British and French social organizing efforts to enforce a binary sex-gender system in Yoruba Land, or Portuguese and Spanish efforts to eliminate “two-spirit” indigenous North Americans – deeming all uncivilized in need of external civilization. This was also the case in Palestine under British-Zionist military occupation, as same-sex relations and other diverse gender practices became criminalized and demonized. All the current laws in Gaza that criminalize queerness are, in fact, British and are upheld by Zionism. However, it becomes evermore absurd that rhetorics of bringing queer liberation to Palestine have been now hijacked by Zionists and, for the most brutal reasons, in service of annihilation of Palestinian life and mass destruction. We, Palestinian queers, position our movement for liberation alongside anti-colonial and anti-racist movements globally, and we stand firmly in objection to any attempt to hijack our movements, or exploit our bodies.

In the name of revolutionary love, a love which fuels our struggle for liberation and yearning for freedom, rooted in our love for our communities and our land; we tell you, there is no pride with genocide, and there is no pride in settler-colonialism.

Our pride can only come through true liberation for all, for us and for all the peoples fighting worldwide.

A Liberatory Demand from Queers in Palestine | Pinkwashing - Decolonize Palestine

[mostlysignssomeportents]

America's largest hospital chain has an algorithmic death panel

It’s not that conservatives aren’t sometimes right — it’s that even when they’re right, they’re highly selective about it. Take the hoary chestnut that “incentives matter,” trotted out to deny humane benefits to poor people on the grounds that “free money” makes people “workshy.”

There’s a whole body of conservative economic orthodoxy, Public Choice Theory, that concerns itself with the motives of callow, easily corrupted regulators, legislators and civil servants, and how they might be tempted to distort markets.

But the same people who obsess over our fallible public institutions are convinced that private institutions will never yield to temptation, because the fear of competition keeps temptation at bay. It’s this belief that leads the right to embrace monopolies as “efficient”: “A company’s dominance is evidence of its quality. Customers flock to it, and competitors fail to lure them away, therefore monopolies are the public’s best friend.”

But this only makes sense if you don’t understand how monopolies can prevent competitors. Think of Uber, lighting $31b of its investors’ cash on fire, losing 41 cents on every dollar it brought in, in a bid to drive out competitors and make public transit seem like a bad investment.

Or think of Big Tech, locking up whole swathes of your life inside their silos, so that changing mobile OSes means abandoning your iMessage contacts; or changing social media platforms means abandoning your friends, or blocking Google surveillance means losing your email address, or breaking up with Amazon means losing all your ebooks and audiobooks:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2021/08/facebooks-secret-war-switching-costs

Businesspeople understand the risks of competition, which is why they seek to extinguish it. The harder it is for your customers to leave — because of a lack of competitors or because of lock-in — the worse you can treat them without risking their departure. This is the core of enshittification: a company that is neither disciplined by competition nor regulation can abuse its customers and suppliers over long timescales without losing either:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys

It’s not that public institutions can’t betray they public interest. It’s just that public institutions can be made democratically accountable, rather than financially accountable. When a company betrays you, you can only punish it by “voting with your wallet.” In that system, the people with the fattest wallets get the most votes.

When public institutions fail you, you can vote with your ballot. Admittedly, that doesn’t always work, but one of the major predictors of whether it will work is how big and concentrated the private sector is. Regulatory capture isn’t automatic: it’s what you get when companies are bigger than governments.

If you want small governments, in other words, you need small companies. Even if you think the only role for the state is in enforcing contracts, the state needs to be more powerful than the companies issuing those contracts. The bigger the companies are, the bigger the government has to be:

https://doctorow.medium.com/regulatory-capture-59b2013e2526

Companies can suborn the government to help them abuse the public, but whether public institutions can resist them is more a matter of how powerful those companies are than how fallible a public servant is. Our plutocratic, monopolized, unequal society is the worst of both worlds. Because companies are so big, they abuse us with impunity — and they are able to suborn the state to help them do it:

https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/perspectives-on-politics/article/testing-theories-of-american-politics-elites-interest-groups-and-average-citizens/62327F513959D0A304D4893B382B992B

This is the dimension that’s so often missing from the discussion of why Americans pay more for healthcare to get worse outcomes from health-care workers who labor under worse conditions than their cousins abroad. Yes, the government can abet this, as when it lets privatizers into the Medicare system to loot it and maim its patients:

https://prospect.org/health/2023-08-01-patient-zero-tom-scully/

But the answer to this isn’t more privatization. Remember Sarah Palin’s scare-stories about how government health care would have “death panels” where unaccountable officials decided whether your life was worth saving?

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/26195604/

The reason “death panels” resounded so thoroughly — and stuck around through the years — is that we all understand, at some deep level, that health care will always be rationed. When you show up at the Emergency Room, they have to triage you. Even if you’re in unbearable agony, you might have to wait, and wait, and wait, because other people (even people who arrive after you do) have it worse.

In America, health care is mostly rationed based on your ability to pay. Emergency room triage is one of the only truly meritocratic institutions in the American health system, where your treatment is based on urgency, not cash. Of course, you can buy your way out of that too, with concierge doctors. And the ER system itself has been infested with Private Equity parasites:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/17/the-doctor-will-fleece-you-now/#pe-in-full-effect

Wealth-based health-care rationing is bad enough, but when it’s combined with the public purse, a bad system becomes a nightmare. Take hospice care: private equity funds have rolled up huge numbers of hospices across the USA and turned them into rigged — and lethal — games:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/26/death-panels/#what-the-heck-is-going-on-with-CMS

Medicare will pay a hospice $203-$1,462 to care for a dying person, amounting to $22.4b/year in public funds transfered to the private sector. Incentives matter: the less a hospice does for their patients, the more profits they reap. And the private hospice system is administered with the lightest of touches: at the $203/day level, a private hospice has no mandatory duties to their patients.

You can set up a California hospice for the price of a $3,000 filing fee (which is mostly optional, since it’s never checked). You will have a facility inspection, but don’t worry, there’s no followup to make sure you remediate any failing elements. And no one at the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services tracks complaints.

So PE-owned hospices pressure largely healthy people to go into “hospice care” — from home. Then they do nothing for them, including continuing whatever medical care they were depending on. After the patient generates $32,000 in billings for the PE company, they hit the cap and are “live discharged” and must go through a bureaucratic nightmare to re-establish their Medicare eligibility, because once you go into hospice, Medicare assumes you are dying and halts your care.

PE-owned hospices bribe doctors to refer patients to them. Sometimes, these sham hospices deliberately induce overdoses in their patients in a bid to make it look like they’re actually in the business of caring for the dying. Incentives matter:

https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2022/12/05/how-hospice-became-a-for-profit-hustle

Now, hospice care — and its relative, palliative care — is a crucial part of any humane medical system. In his essential book, Being Mortal, Atul Gawande describes how end-of-life care that centers a dying person’s priorities can make death a dignified and even satisfying process for the patient and their loved ones:

https://atulgawande.com/book/being-mortal/

But that dignity comes from a patient-centered approach, not a profit-centered one. Doctors are required to put their patients’ interests first, and while they sometimes fail at this (everyone is fallible), the professionalization of medicine, through which doctors were held to ethical standards ahead of monetary considerations, proved remarkable durable.

Partly that was because doctors generally worked for themselves — or for other doctors. In most states, it is illegal for medical practices to be owned by non-MDs, and historically, only a small fraction of doctors worked for hospitals, subject to administration by businesspeople rather than medical professionals.

But that was radically altered by the entry of private equity into the medical system, with the attending waves of consolidation that saw local hospitals merged into massive national chains, and private practices scooped up and turned into profit-maximizers, not health-maximizers:

https://prospect.org/health/2023-08-02-qa-corporate-medicine-destroys-doctors/

Today, doctors are being proletarianized, joining the ranks of nurses, physicians’ assistants and other health workers. In 2012, 60% of practices were doctor-owned and only 5.6% of docs worked for hospitals. Today, that’s up by 1,000%, with 52.1% of docs working for hospitals, mostly giant corporate chains:

https://prospect.org/health/2023-08-04-when-mds-go-union/

The paperclip-maximizing, grandparent-devouring transhuman colony organism that calls itself a Private Equity fund is endlessly inventive in finding ways to increase its profits by harming the rest of us. It’s not just hospices — it’s also palliative care.

Writing for NBC News, Gretchen Morgenson describes how HCA Healthcare — the nation’s largest hospital chain — outsourced its death panels to IBM Watson, whose algorithmic determinations override MDs’ judgment to send patients to palliative care, withdrawing their care and leaving them to die:

https://www.nbcnews.com/health/health-care/doctors-say-hca-hospitals-push-patients-hospice-care-rcna81599

Incentives matter. When HCA hospitals send patients to die somewhere else to die, it jukes their stats, reducing the average length of stay for patients, a key metric used by HCA that has the twin benefits of making the hospital seem like a place where people get well quickly, while freeing up beds for more profitable patients.

Goodhart’s Law holds that “When a measure becomes a target, it ceases to be a good measure.” Give an MBA within HCA a metric (“get patients out of bed quicker”) and they will find a way to hit that metric (“send patients off to die somewhere else, even if their doctors think they could recover”):

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Goodhart%27s_law

Incentives matter! Any corporate measure immediately becomes a target. Tell Warners to decrease costs, and they will turn around and declare the writers’ strike to be a $100m “cost savings,” despite the fact that this “savings” comes from ceasing production on the shows that will bring in all of next year’s revenue:

https://deadline.com/2023/08/warner-bros-discovery-david-zaslav-gunnar-wiedenfels-strikes-1235453950/

Incentivize a company to eat its seed-corn and it will chow down.

Only one of HCA’s doctors was willing to go on record about its death panels: Ghasan Tabel of Riverside Community Hospital (motto: “Above all else, we are committed to the care and improvement of human life”). Tabel sued Riverside after the hospital retaliated against him when he refused to follow the algorithm’s orders to send his patients for palliative care.

Tabel is the only doc on record willing to discuss this, but 26 other doctors talked to Morgenson on background about the practice, asking for anonymity out of fear of retaliation from the nation’s largest hospital chain, a “Wall Street darling” with $5.6b in earnings in 2022.

HCA already has a reputation as a slaughterhouse that puts profits before patients, with “severe understaffing”:

https://www.nbcnews.com/health/health-news/workers-us-hospital-giant-hca-say-puts-profits-patient-care-rcna64122

and rotting, undermaintained facililties:

https://www.nbcnews.com/health/health-care/roaches-operating-room-hca-hospital-florida-rcna69563

But while cutting staff and leaving hospitals to crumble are inarguable malpractice, the palliative care scam is harder to pin down. By using “AI” to decide when patients are beyond help, HCA can employ empiricism-washing, declaring the matter to be the factual — and unquestionable — conclusion of a mathematical process, not mere profit-seeking:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/26/dictators-dilemma/ggarbage-in-garbage-out-garbage-back-in

But this empirical facewash evaporates when confronted with whistleblower accounts of hospital administrators who have no medical credentials berating doctors for a “missed hospice opportunity” when a physician opts to keep a patient under their care despite the algorithm’s determination.

This is the true “AI Safety” risk. It’s not that a chatbot will become sentient and take over the world — it’s that the original artificial lifeform, the limited liability company, will use “AI” to accelerate its murderous shell-game until we can’t spot the trick:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/10/in-the-dumps-2/

The risk is real. A 2020 study in the Journal of Healthcare Management concluded that the cash incentives for shipping patients to palliatve care “may induce deceiving changes in mortality reporting in several high-volume hospital diagnoses”:

https://journals.lww.com/jhmonline/Fulltext/2020/04000/The_Association_of_Increasing_Hospice_Use_With.7.aspx

Incentives matter. In a private market, it’s always more profitable to deny care than to provide it, and any metric we bolt onto that system to prevent cheating will immediately become a target. For-profit healthcare is an oxymoron, a prelude to death panels that will kill you for a nickel.

Morgenson is an incisive commentator on for-profit looting. Her recent book These Are the Plunderers: How Private Equity Runs — and Wrecks — America (co-written with Joshua Rosner) is a must-read:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/02/plunderers/#farben

I’m kickstarting the audiobook for “The Internet Con: How To Seize the Means of Computation,” a Big Tech disassembly manual to disenshittify the web and bring back the old, good internet. It’s a DRM-free book, which means Audible won’t carry it, so this crowdfunder is essential. Back now to get the audio, Verso hardcover and ebook:

http://seizethemeansofcomputation.org

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this thread to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/05/any-metric-becomes-a-target/#hca

[Image ID: An industrial meat-grinder. A sick man, propped up with pillows, is being carried up its conveyor towards its hopper. Ground meat comes out of the other end. It bears the logo of HCA healthcare. A pool of blood spreads out below it.]

Image: Seydelmann (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:GW300_1.jpg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/deed.en

[horreurscopes]

So, I could be out-of-bounds here since I think you meant it as dark humor, but what did you mean in the tags of that 'israel-hamas war' post? I suspect you(and op) are criticizing that framing because Israel is obviously demolishing much more than 'Hamas'(and probably doing a terrible job of actually targeting terrorists- they seem content to reduce Gaza to rubble even if the brass of Hamas escapes). I'm guessing that by saying "joining the Israel-Hamas war on the side of Hamas" you mean, if they're going to conflate Palestinians with Hamas unilaterally, then you're saying, whatever the media wants to call Palestinian civilians- you still support them. I am asking anyways though bc, given reports of increasing antisemitic activity in the US and Europe, I am worried about the potential for blurring lines between the cause of Palestinian civilians and the alt-right individuals who are likely masking their antisemitism in the context of being anti-Zionist. Although Israel's government has been the source of Palestinian loss for decades, (it seems to me that) even joking about supporting terrorism is enough to reinforce the persuasion that Israeli/Palestinian Jews and Palestinian Arabs must be mutually-exclusive peoples. I don't think it's fully rational per se(tho I'm not claiming to have all the relevant information myself, and I'm white US American goyim so like- grain of salt-), but I think that existential fear is the incredible hurdle facing Zionist Jews. (Idc too much about the opinions of non-Jewish Zionists bc I don't grant that they are dealing with the same emotional complications at this time, although that doesn't stop me from arguing w my acquaintances abt their callous acceptance of US/Israeli propaganda.) I just think..... isn't it overall harmful to allow anti-semitic rhetoric, even used sarcastically, to enter the genuine humanist cause for Palestinian liberation? Or, have I misunderstood, and you actually are not in opposition to Hamas, or something else I didn't think of?

hi! thank you for approaching the question thoughtfully and with curiosity, i really appreciate it. i was being kind of flippant with that meme, but this is the only ask i'm going to reply to on the matter given that i am neither jewish nor arab, so i'm going to answer in earnest:

hamas is a political resistance movement with an armed wing, much like the black panthers party was, and like the bpp, a large part of the organization is dedicated to social welfare and civic restoration.

they have stated that they are not against judaism, but against the zionist project. they openly support political solutions.

labeling hamas a terrorist group is a propaganda tactic used by the united states and israel to justify the horrors of settler colonization.

hamas is palestine, a part of it, even if palestinians like any other demographic on earth, are not a unified, single-minded people. to declare hamas a separate entity falls prey to the imperialist lie that there is an enemy to fight "fairly" within the people they are displacing and exterminating.

am i rejoicing in the deaths of israelis? of course not. killing civilians and taking civilian hostages is a war crime, whether it is committed by the opresor or the oppressed. the israeli government is not its people, and many jews, within israel as well as in the US, are bravely risking their lives to publicly dissent the criminal acts of the israeli government. all loss of human life is a tragedy.

no one should ever be faced with the choice between annihilation and murderous violence after exhausting all other forms of peaceful protest and being massacred like animals.

but why is it that we consider a resistance group formed within a population with a median age of eighteen a terrorist group, and not the IDF, a US-backed military force with an annual budget of twenty billion dollars?

i am currently reading hamas and civil society in gaza by sara roy to learn more about hamas and the history of israel in palestine. i'll remember to post more excerpts which i am admittedly terrible at.

but all of the information above can be found by reading wikipedia. investigating with duckduckgo searches (not gonna pretend google isn't prioritizing propaganda, to be fair), and reading reliable news coverage like aljazeera and the many journalists who are at risk of, or have lost their lives, reporting on the ground.

i have also appreciated reading posts from @determinate-negation @opencommunion @fairuzfan @ibtisams and @bloglikeanegyptian amongst others

in conclusion:

[fumifooms]

Makima, devils and self-fulfillment

Dumping some Makima and CSM thoughts after a part 1 binge bc I think about her forever and ever. I’m sure I’m forgetting some devil lore, feel free to correct what i get wrong/what’s been confirmed. On the table of contents there’s why & how Makima got fixated on Chainsaw, her revealing liking for the country mouse and discussion of her nature & emotions & desires. Was the scorpion doomed to be a scorpion?

The most of this post was thought of during a conversation with @saccharineomens and I don’t think it makes sense to jump into the spiral it sent me on without first laying down the interesting groundwork theorizing she did:

"Thinking about how makima herself wants to be deified. I wonder whether she recognizes the difference between Love As Worship and the love that Aki, Power, and Denji had. She says she wants to help humanity by having Chainsawman eat the “bad” devils, but why does she want to help humans? Because she was ordered to by the Prime Minister? No, her drive seems much more personal than that, it seems like she teamed up with the PM for contractual reasons. (In the most recent chapters we see governmental members wanting certain devils to be eaten, too. What was Makima’s relationship with them? She’s too independent to just follow THEIR orders, she’s Control.)

So is she wanting to better humanity for the accolades, or out of the goodness of her heart? She sees the big picture. She sees any small sacrifice as worth it for the end result, and she’s ruthless. Perhaps she thinks that a more sedate human race would be easier to control? But Makima doesn’t loathe humanity. She never acts like she sees all humans as lesser. She loves humanity’s creations, like good food and movies. She just wants Good Things all the time

She says she prefers the country mouse BUT adds a story where she helps exterminate country mice like vermin. She likes the simplicity yet rejects the idea of being simple. Makima the complex individual you are"

~

The story itself seems to prefr the country mouse. Well- it strikes a balance, shows that a risk to live good & fully can be very worth it, but still that stability over ambition is preferable, proning having a simple happy life over fame, a simple job instead of a dangerous one, etc etc. And I do find Makima’s answer on this so so interesting, she prefers the country mouse, but this preference isn’t out of affection or sympathy but because of how relaxing it feels to exterminate them when they cause problems.

Order satisfies her. Her order satisfies her. She likes the action of rooting out disorder. Maybe this is the devil part, like how Power especially wants blood and drinking it, I feel there’s an itch to every devil, and for Makima it’s a very rigid world view/morality/standards & making things follow her rules and submit to her order.

And maybe this is why she’s attached to humans too, why she felt it was worth it to stick with the government- because devils are chaotic by nature (it’s a whole plot point that hell is essentially a free-for-all battleground for example), meanwhile humans are the species that universally rule Earth with systems they invented and instilled. They made then enforced rules, complex and intricate webs of them. She feels alienated amongst devils but she understands the humans’ need for an orderly organised society, and now she wants to be part of it. Control and conquest require social dynamics after all, requires civilizations or groups. War is chaotic while peace is, well, peaceful— Makima resents her sisters for being death, famine and war, things that throw the world in such chaos. She wants a world of perfect order, no matter how much collateral damage there will be if the end result is control.

This is even more interesting if you consider that yes, Makima is untouchable of her own design, she deifies herself with her omnipresent amount of control and the sway over others that she seeks and encourages— There is this urge to dehumanize her for it, that yes, she is the devil of control and that means she was never going to be any different, have any more feeling be any less uncanny. And I love part 2 so much for this, because it shows us the war devil and the famine devil and we see how frankly uncharismatic with poor self-discipline they are, Nayuta too, and it helps us realize just how much Makima’s success was self-made.

She admires Chainsaw Devil, the Hero of Hell, because he had his own code and his own rules and he made Hell, the chaos pit, submit to them unfailingly. Wherever he goes he decides what he does and what happens to the people he encounters but does so consistently, he has his mechanism and his rules that he always obeys, and he fulfills them every time. It’s still a mystery the why of Chainsaw Devil’s behavior back then and how it works exactly, maybe Pochita left hell because he was tired of these rules he lived by like chains, but still, he was a servant to his code. Makima would have been glad being killed and eaten by Chainsaw Devil because it’d have been becoming part of his design, his conquest, his domination, she’d have been part of that —his— order. Through her death she would be shaping his world and be part of a conqueror’s making history. Like how she appreciates the country mice that die for the sake of order. Like how sacrifices must be made to herself, like listing the name of every person whose life was lost to the Gun Devil— All for the ~greater good~, for her vision for the world. Conquest always thinks its reasons are justified.

And she does mention with the country mice thing that she goes out to a friend’s farm every year! She has a human friend?? That she visits yearly and she genuinely likes it?? Ultimately she lives a busy city life because of her goal and drive and her urge & satisfaction with overseeing shaping the world herself, but part of her, like so many characters including Angel and Aki and Reze, wishes she could live a slow peaceful country life. Moviegoing and dogs and mice in a farm- Wouldn’t it be so much simpler if Makima could find fulfillment and happiness in being a farmer, in keeping control of her own farm, getting satisfaction from exterminating vermin and expertly getting everything right, the right crops grown at the right time on the right soil? Here, too, in a way it’s trying to have full control of an ecosystem, but her goals would be easier to achieve and better, without ceaseless sacrifice or much pressure. But Makima wants grandiosity and her goal does matter to her on a fundamental and moral level, she does think she knows what’s best for the world, and with the power to change it why wouldn’t she strive to? Visiting the farm is just a break, just something she does in fall to help out and just in time to see the vermin extermination. It calms her, then it’s back to actual work.

In capitalism, even the one at the very top of the ladder is ultimately alienated from others and often unsatisfied by their lifestyle, always wanting more and more power because surely that’s the extra edge they must be missing to be content— like how Makima thinks she wants to dominate Chainsaw Devil instead of being his equal. And she says it herself too, she likes humans the way humans like dogs…….. And she keeps so many dogs :( Makima prefers the country mice because they’re calming to root out, maybe because she usually mainly deals with city mice. It’s very easy to equate humans to the mice in this allegory because it’s pretty direct and she’s already likened humans to lesser animals compared to her. She’s self-isolating by design for her design but she still craves relationships and contentment, and the dogs are the embodiment or her want for bonds and occasional simplicity because there is no possible ulterior motive, no way they tie back into her wider plan. They’re her personal life— something that feels so alien when speaking about Makima. Personality and individuality and likes and preferences and friends they visit every year. She likes how easily she can train a dog and how they become putty in her hands, at her beck and call, how much they love her and how much she enjoys their love. How simple and straightforward and easy it is. She keeps them because she likes being loved by them and loving them, and she’s gotten and raised so many. A conqueror always wants more and more and more, is never satisfied.

Devils and agency

Like Power the blood devil wanting blood and having a fixation on drinking it like with Denji’s, or how it was shocking that the violence devil was pretty tame and nice and how he himself theorized it was because he was a fiend and possessing a human body… There’s something to be said about nature vs nurture with the devils. The way they reincarnate and always embody their fear makes it seem categorically like nature, that they always always end up fulfilling the role they were named after and born to fill… Outside influence they’re helpless but to conform with. Like the humans accepting their spot in the social ladder and the shittiness of their living conditions and job under capitalism. Makima craved being equals with someone despite being the control/conquest devil, Angel Devil despite claiming to be a devil who likes to see humans dying was haunted by their deaths and wanted to avoid ones like Aki’s. The Ghost Devil being ironically haunted by Himeno, seemingly helping Aki in her memory out of… Lasting affection? Or maybe it was less about being haunted itself and more about it recognizing how Himeno haunted Aki, and acknowledging that, with the memento, paying her respect to the ghost of her. It’s Angel Devil’s devil nature that makes him like human suffering, so then is it his angel nature too to still care about their deaths? Is there truth to this or is that just personality, just our confirmation bias haunting every part of their identity like it might in their own view of themselves too? We do know different reincarnations of devils do have different personalities after all.

Yoru, war devil, is the most interesting one when talking about the nature vs nurture debate with devils. There is how through her we see the perhaps the most the consequences of a devil stopping being feared— we see a horseman for a concept as universal and horrifying as war be reduced to some bird who needs a contract with a human to have any power even just on the situation when meeting Asa. And through the story we get to know her better, and it becomes clear that her goal is fueled in good part by simply wanting to be remembered and respected through fear. Liked, validated, seen a powerful. But what is more isolating than war? Or control? We also see Nayuta accepting others’ house rules. If part 1 shows perhaps the futility of running away from the truth, with Denji’s memory, with escapist coping mechanisms, with passivity and denial under a corrupt system and with abusive relationships- running away from your own feelings and from the reality of things and from all that you are, more complex than simply human or devil or both or neither— part 2 builds upon the theme of cult of personalities, the chainsaw church, etc. The apocalypse is coming, but this celebrity superhero might save us all, or doom us all uh, dunno. The hero of hell reliving the cycle of pressure from responsibilities and expectations, maybe the part will end with Denji running away like Pochita did~

But yes, on the reverse, I think Famine is a very interesting example of how a devil’s namesake may be more innate than coerced by circumstances. One would think that a famine devil would only like inflicting famine upon others, not being famished itself, but Famine has a bottomless stomach that can never, ever be satisfied, sated. I struggle to find a psychological explanation for this, except that maybe instead of her being hungry it’s her feeling empty when she’s not eating, tasting and having that high sensory experience that releases serotonin in humans, sort of like drugs? But I do take this as a step towards the compulsion theory overall, feels like a reach in the consistency otherwise. And compulsion does not mean it’s something that they like nor that it’s something that they fight against, pretty neutral, just a nature that nudges you towards one path. Maybe it’s even just their go-to for entertainment. Maybe it’s the only thing that makes them feel right and whole. But still the debate remains, what is it, a compulsion or an urge or an itch or an active desire or a conscious chosen want? Does it change anything in practice?

And because of all of this earlier, devils being self-fulfilling prophecies with their role is not in unsignificant part nurture, because doing their atrocities is how they stay remembered— feared, powerful, known— hell and devils are a very isolating place and breed after all, and we do see devils can want companionship. Existentially, it’s their purpose and how they justify their place in the world, in the terrifyingly vast and unknowable cosmos.

We still know so little of what makes Chainsaw Devil so special, why his carnage is so self-controlled. Despite a chainsaw maybe being possibly one of the most "nature" thing you can be— a tool to cut things, a human tool that can be helpful for many things, something to be wielding by another at their judgement on what they decide, but mainly something to cut, a tool suited for carnage, to hurt and to destroy. A blade with a toothed chain, spinning around and around and around endlessly on the same road at the same pace. Such a…. Innately circular concept. And yet the Chainsaw Devil is his own, not driven by an urge or by chaos but his very own brand of order, his own unique assigned purpose, a "if you call i’ll come running to help" policy equalizing everyone. He chooses to withhold his destruction and interference otherwise, and then he chooses to be used. If it’s a choice, of course.

Maybe this is what inspired Makima so much, that Chainsaw Devil could decide what to make of himself despite expectations or innate role. Because even Hell he decided & managed to subjugate under his will and whim, with a precise vision and process. When Chainsaw Devil acts like Denji or is defeated, Makima clicks her tongue and loses her admiration and respect. Makima admired and liked Chainsaw Devil, but only as long as he matched her great image of him in her mind, as long as he followed he rules for what she thinks he should be like. She admired him for his unrivaled self-made success, but once he stepped out of that to truly embody self-fulfillment and agency, disappearing from hell to live on his own road at the beat of his own drum… Well. Surely that was a mistake she has to correct. However their second battle ends, the better conqueror will have prevailed and she’s happy about that, all in the spirit of domination and subjugation.

Imo Makima’s biggest tool, similarly capitalism’s most helpful effect for its own purposes, is complacency. Resignation and passivity helps uphold the system and go along the flow of the will of the people in power. Aki and Reze go along with orders even when knowing their job is trash, etc. In Angel Devil especially we see him go along with the flow uncaring about anyhing, and we discover it was in part due to Makima taking away memories that motivated him. If every devil decides this is just how things are and how things should be that’s what they’ll continue to be and do mindlessly, not pursuing a better life like Chainsaw Devil and Denj and not seeking to change the world like Makima. I think even Makima veils herself to a lot of things, she doesn’t like to think deeply about some things, like her desire for connection, or how making bad movies disappear is strenuous and unsustainable and requiring sacrifices at best— how her judgement is as subjective as anyone else. How liking the country mouse and her friend back at the farm and her dogs could be not devoid of sentimality. Wanting bad movies erased is her one biggest show of selfishness, of pettiness and individuality, it’s about her tastes, simple as. About how she can have tastes, and cry seeing a scene of people hug, and want things that aren’t logical, her ideology and mind twisted into a pretzel to avoid acknowledging that she doesn’t live and breathe purely for the mission she’s made a single-minded robot out of herself to accomplish. Nayuta is assertive and selfish and loud, Makima is manipulative and strategically both for her goals and for coping hollow.

Everything in her plans and goals she says is for the greater good, necessary evil, manufactured happiness the way she’ll have decided for people— and that’s the thing isn’t it, like with War, it’s the crack that shows it was all truly about herself after all. Her self-made deification still had the flaw that a self made it. Makima is not omniscient, and it’s not Chainsaw Devil the not-so-fellow-kindred-soul conqueror who gets the best of her, but a city mouse, a dog, someone she would have never thought to respect, Denji.