#Stripped to Kill II: Live Girls | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pearlsinmyhair · 1 year ago

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₊ ⊹ the price of the name.

synopsis: reader has had a hard life, and now she’s an orphan. but someone just as lonely comes into her life to take her under his wing.

warnings: death. suicidal thoughts. grief. angst. miguel being a hardass. cursing/adult language.

notes: ok, here we go. the last part. star girl kisses hobie on the cheek, and they have some romantic implications. HOWEVER. i did not write them to be romantic. i just see hobie as a very physically affectionate person (especially since i’m this way.)

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv

word count: 2.6k

part v : void

　　　. 　　˚　　　　*　　　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚

cursed daughter,

uttering insanities no one believes,

do you regret taking the vow?

“you die.”

it felt like the ground was dropping out from under you, like the void had somehow traveled from your dead universe to this one to drag you down where you belonged.

in the grave. in the ground. gone.

you were staring at lyla. or maybe you weren’t. her orange form blended and swirled as tears overflowed your eyes and dripped down your cheeks. all the fight, the rage, the energy, was gone. snuffed like a candle flame.

just like you should be right now.

“i was supposed to die.” you whispered, more to yourself than miguel or lyla. “but i was somewhere else.”

anger lit in your chest fast, ignited by the frustration that had grown for months in your mind, words yelled at mirrors and whispered to the ceiling.

you turned to miguel, still on the ground as you raised your voice.

“i was somewhere else because of your sorry ass beating a mother fucking teenager to death! because i had to protect a child! from you!” you stepped up, rising slowly even as your knees shook. “if i hadn’t been worried about miles or you or your determination to keep the canon intact, then it would have been fine! i would have died, and everyone in my universe would have been okay!”

deflect, ignore the problem, fight, rage, scream.

you hated how similar you were to miguel.

you hated him.

he stood still as a statue, watching you with a defeated expression as you self destructed.

“y/n…” he tried, voice the softest you had ever heard it.

and you broke.

your knees buckled, but he was there in an instant, hands looping under your arms so that you didn’t fall. he pulled you into him, even as your fists beat against his chest.

“i hate you so fucking much. i hate how you make me feel and i hate what you did and i hate you-“ you sobbed, trying and failing to grapple with the weight of what had happened.

and through it all he just held you, tucking your head under his chin.

“i know, mija.” he whispered, his hand resting against the back of your neck to pull you against him.

“if you hadn’t been an asshole and chased a kid then it would have been alright. all those people would be alive and-“

“and you’d be dead.” he finished, his arm around you tightening slightly. “and i think we both know i wouldn’t let that happen.”

you felt repulsed, like his hands were burning, a betrayal to a boy beaten by the same palms. but you were also desperate, clinging to a life you lived for nine months only to be stripped from it completely. you wanted this contact, craved this hug.

your mind cried TRAITOR and your heart cried HOME. it was a contradiction that made you ache, a reminder of what was gone and would never return.

your hands clenched the material of miguel’s suit tight, bunching it as you wheezed. you felt so small, and yet so large. grief scratched at you with newly sharper claws, and guilt followed at its heels.

miguel’s hold tightened.

your mind switched to analytical thinking, trying to procure a solution, to fix what you had broken.

the answer came clearly, emerging from the darkest spot of your mind like a banished creature.

“you need to kill me.”

miguel pulled back just enough to look down at you, his hands moving to your upper arms to grip you in an unyielding hold. his eyes filled with a solemn determination that made you want to sob, made you want to scream.

“it won’t bring them back.” he whispered, resting his forehead against yours. “nothing you or i or lyla or anyone does will bring them back.”

the void at your toes, ready to swarm. an ocean of black silence, waiting to drown you.

“there has to be a way, miguel. please. if my universe collapsed because i didn’t die, then maybe if i died it would come ba-“

“do you think i didn’t try that when gabriella’s universe disappeared?” he asked, voice firm but expression soft. “i tried for weeks, never truly sleeping. i went through data and experimentation just for a chance to reassemble a universe. it doesn’t matter.”

your chest tightened, your breath limited as you tried to force a rhythm.

in, hold, out.

all those children.

in, hold, out.

mothers and fathers.

in, hold, out.

AND ITS ALL YOUR FAULT.

miguel pulled you into him, wrapping his arms around you.

the thoughts muted, the world dark and warm as you pressed your face to his chest. his arms, keeping you safe from the outside.

the tears didn’t stop for a long time, and neither did your choked cries. but it didn’t matter to him. it didn’t matter that there was a wet patch in his suit that most definitely included snot as well as tears.

he guided you through breathing, moving his hand in rhythmic circles on the upper plane of your back as he whispered “in, and out” over and over until your heartbeat calmed.

miguel knew that this was just the beginning. there would be late nights and frustrated yelling and breakdowns for a long time. it would take months to heal, months to work this guilt out of you.

but he’d be there every step of the way.

he refused to leave you again.

“you’re a hypocrite.” you whispered, and again he pulled back to look at you.

your eyes were set in firm decisiveness, as though you’d been thinking about this for some time. his gut twisted and his frustration flared slightly, but his inclined his head to let your speak.

you took a breath. “you’d save me for the sake of your own benefit. you care for me- i make you less lonely.” she held up her hand when his mouth opened, and his words died on his tongue. “you’d let my entire universe die just to have me.”

your voice faltered as tears balled in your throat, but you swallowed and carried on. miguel needed to hear this, and you were pretty sure you were the only person he’d hear it from.

“that’s selfish. incredibly so. but.” she trailed off, piecing the words together and preparing for his rebuttal. “when miles wants to save his father, it’s a cardinal sin.”

“y/n, it’s diff-“

“no, it’s not.” you cut him off, and again his mouth shut. he had forgotten just how quick your words were, no doubt sharpened by your temporary grounding.

“you’re sympathetic to me, but you slam a boy, a boy, miguel, into a train because he wants to save his father. meanwhile, you’d save your daughter without so much as a second thought? that’s hypocrisy.”

his eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t interrupt.

“all i ask is that you give him the same grace. can’t you understand why he refuses to follow your orders?

miguel sighed, keeping his eyes on you.

“miles is an anomaly, he’s was never meant to be spider-man-“

“enough of that. that has nothing to with the canon event. the universe didn’t collapse when he was bitten. it’s not his fault.”

“he is the beginning of this, the reason why there even is a spider society.”

your eyes narrowed, anger rising as you remembered the broken boy with bandages on his chest. “so you’re going to traumatize him? as punishment? he doesn’t deserve this blame, and you should never have reinforced it into his head. he’s fifteen, miguel. fifteen and scared. and now his head is full of your rhetoric, full of this hate that he doesn’t deserve. it’s not fair.”

you paused, and miguel worked his jaw, speechless.

“there must be another way. the canon has been flexible before. we can’t bring my universe back, but maybe we can save his. without making him watch his father die.” a tear slipped from your eye as you shoved down your sadness, forcing yourself to move on in order to help miles.

miguel’s thumb caught the tear before it fell, and you leaned into his palm.

“i think you need to sit this one out.” he whispered, eyes full of concern as your own blinked open. “i made the mistake of training you too early after your mother died, i won’t make the same mistake by allowing you to rush into this while you’re falling apart.”

you watched him, processing his words.

he was right, of course. it wasn’t healthy to push grief aside for later, especially this kind. the kind that poked at your throat and dug into your stomach. but the clock was ticking. a little less than two days.

you wanted nothing more than to curl up into a bed and cry. but you didn’t have time.

“i need to do this. and i need you to be there with me when i do, at my side. not against me. and after we figure this out, i’ll go to therapy and we can eat ice cream or whatever shit people normally do when they’re sad. ok?” you said.

this was the price of the name. sacrifice. pain. suffering. all for the greater good of the people.

miguel’s thumb stroked across your cheekbone as his jaw feathered.

“please. let me finish this.” you whispered.

miguel’s decision appeared in his eyes before it came out of his mouth.

“is this our tradition now?” he asked, and your face broke into a watery smile.

“fucking shit up despite our metal health? i guess so.” you laughed as you rubbed the heel of your hand against your eye, rubbing tears from your face.

“lyla?” you called, and she appeared at your shoulder. “can you help me reach hobie?”

lyla nodded, but miguel’s eyes hardened. “what do we need him for?” he asked, already sounding exasperated.

you smiled. “if you want to really fuck the system, you call the anarchist.” you said as you tapped at your watch.

i need some help defying the canon. you in?

it only took a few seconds for a reply.

let’s raise hell. meet you at my place in an hour.

i have miguel. but he’s leashed.

miguel looked over your shoulder, scoffing at the message.

“leashed?” he asked, and you smiled wickedly.

“you will be if you don’t listen. i’m not above webbing you to a wall and taking Rapture away from you.” you patted his shoulder. “just behave.”

you opened a portal when a thought rose suddenly.

“do you have any causal clothes?” you asked over your shoulder, and miguel raised a brow at you.

“for what?”

you grinned. “hard to be incognito in a spider suit. we need to blend in where we’re going.”

he smirked. “and what about you? think no one’s gonna stare at that suit just as much as mine?”

your teeth flashed as your grin widened. “i have clothes at hobie’s place.”

miguel’s amused expression dropped, and the glint in his eye told you that you may have to stand in front of hobie when he came back.

when he returned with clothes, grumpy as ever, you turned to the portal and jumped in, miguel at your heels.

₊ ⊹

“i cant fold it right, mine keeps bursting open.” you sighed, showing miguel the embarrassment of an empanada in your hands.

he shook his head at you, having already made a pile of at least ten. “it’s too much filling. you’re smart: use deductive reasoning.”

you elbowed him in the side, and he pretended to be wounded, letting out a fake gasp of pain.

you had both gone to the grocery store as soon as you entered earth-138, grabbing the necessary ingredients for a meal for the kids.

you had resolved that, if miguel couldn’t fully verbally apologize yet, then he could at least make them dinner.

and miguel had dragged his feet, refusing to give his input as you walked the aisles of produce and food. but when you fixed him with a glare and a sharp word, he had straightened up, explaining what exactly you needed.

and that brought you here, assembling empanadas with salsa verde and mexican rice on the counter of hobie’s house boat.

the group was late, though hobie had messaged you telling you that it was because they were talking miles into actually going in. the boy was terrified, but hobie and gwen were assuring him that everything was fine.

miguel placed the empanadas in the oven as the door to the boat clicked open and the spider band stepped though.

thank god it was spacious, you thought as the filed in.

you stepped forward to hobie, who embraced you with an arm around your waist and his mouth to your ear.

“one word and he’s a dead man.” he murmured to you as his eyes stayed fixed on miguel over your shoulder.

you garnered that miguel was staring back based on the tingling feeling of your skin.

“i got it. but noted.” you replied, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you pulled back.

his hands found your shoulders, leaning down to level a look at you. “you good?” he asked earnestly, his eyes concerned.

your smile was small, but it was a start.

“i’m good. better now.” you whispered, and he squeezed your shoulders.

he moved to the side, and your eyes caught miles’s, who stood with his arms limply at his side in a corner of the room.

you walked over to him, and his jaw clenched.

“i’m so sorry.” he whispered, and your heart ached.

“its not your fault. fate is a bitch sometimes.” you said as you slung an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. his arms wrapped around your back gratefully.

you reached a hand to gwen and pavitr, and they joined the hug.

“my baby spiders.” you cooed. “i missed you.”

you pulled away to look around at the others, nodding to noir and peter b and fist bumping peni.

you met miguel’s eyes, and he nodded.

deep breath. it’s not like this is the end of the word or anything.

“we have less than two days to find a solution to save miles dad. the cannon is temperamental, but it is flexible. there must be a way other than jefferson’s death that can prevent earth-1610 from collapsing. any ideas?”

you gazed around the room to blank stares and thoughtful expressions. silence pressed against your ears as no one replied.

“my dad stepped down.” came a hesitant voice.

you turned to find gwen staring at you with a hopeful expression.

“he stepped down from being captain.” she said again. she looked to the side at miles. “after he found out my identity.”

something like hope grew in your chest as you glanced again at miguel. he looked back with a soft expression, tilting his head at you.

“he’ll never step down.” miles sighed, his fingers finding his temple.

“but it shows that there’s wiggle room.” you said, and miles’s eyes peeked at you.

“nothing is black and white. it’s not simple, but it’s a start.” you said as you walked over to the oven, getting out the empanadas.

“brain food?” asked peter b, and you smiled.

miguel stood beside you, preparing plates.

“not bad, y/n.” he said, and you leaned your side against his for a moment.

“where there’s a will, there’s a way.” you said, passing out plates before taking a seat next to hobie on the floor.

you looked around at the group, a smile rising on your face.

“spot’s on the move in 1610.” announced lyla, and hobie turned to you.

“okay, star girl. what’s the plan?”

　　　. 　　˚　　　　*　fin　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚

taglist: aka my little stars

@brittany69 @ladyfairenvale @teamwolverine @kinkybandages @lunamhm565i @dhadiirah @pearlssdiary @zeyzeys-stuff @alexisabirdie @ifuckyourmom @hagdgishr @migueloharaslxt @ladynecromancer @leviathxn @khaylin27 @dulceteris @mouthfulofpearls @alecmores @kissitoffme @mvlanchqly

oh my goodness. thank you all so much for your love and kind words. this is my first finished series, and it’s crazy to think that it all started with a thought of

“what if miguel had a daughter who’s universe collapsed?”

and it’s become a series with followers and people who love it. i’m so incredibly thankful for both your love and your patience- i went through a very hard friendship breakup that kind of ruined my spirit for a while. hence why this took so long.

i know there will be some of you who are not satisfied with this ending. i myself am never truly honestly satisfied with what i write. but i wanted to get this out into the world. BUT. my asks are always open for questions, requests, and headcanons for this story. it’s very dear to my heart, and i’m just so amazed at you all.

my little stars, i hope you enjoyed ‘the price of the name’.

all my love,

pearl ♡

#—the price of the name #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #dad!miguel o’hara #dad!miguel x daughter!reader #miguel ohara x fem!reader #platonic!miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara

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kumeko · 5 months ago

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A/N: For the Effervescence @tankanazine21 ! I was so sorely tempted to end this with Nezuko and Tanjirou dying young, my personal head canon is they died at the same time a few years after the end of the series, but I steered the train back to fluff.

…

Tanjirou aches. It seems to be the only thing he feels these days. Wounds from demons trying to kill him. Scrapes from running away from the police. Bruises from training. There is pain and there is pain, and Tanjirou has learned to tell the various shades in between apart with the skill a painter looks at his palette.

“Are you okay?” Kanao asks anxiously, her thin but muscular arm looped over his shoulder. They aren’t that far apart in height, but he still has to duck down slightly as she tries to support his weight.

“Good enough.” He tries to smile encouragingly but judging by her grimace he missed the mark. Or maybe that is just the blood smeared on his face, the small hobble he has to take with every step, the gasp whenever he breathes in too deeply.

He might have bitten more than he could chew in the last battle. If Kanao and Nezuko weren’t there, he isn’t sure how he would have made it.

She gnaws her lip before suggesting, “I can take the box.”

“That…” The box on his back is a familiar weight, almost as much a part of him as his limbs. Within it is the last of his family, the only one anchoring him to the world. He would sooner strip naked than hand his sister off to someone else. Even if that someone is as trustworthy as Kanao.

Tanjirou shakes his head. “No, that’s fine.”

She looks even more worried by his response. Her brow furrows, her body tenses, and he wants more than anything to smooth the wrinkles from her forehead.

“Thanks for the help,” he says instead.

“I didn’t do anything,” Kanao replies, carefully leading him down the path to the Butterfly Estate.

“You did,” he corrects immediately. Tanjirou has seen Kanao fight, flitting around her enemy like a butterfly in the breeze. There is no way someone that strong can be anything other than amazing.

She doesn’t say anything. Her expression is similar to Giyu’s, in the way they both doubt their own abilities. “Seriously,” he presses, forcing them to a standstill. When she looks up at him, confused, he adds, “You’re amazing. I wouldn’t be here without you.”

Kanao stares at him for a long moment, her eyes wide and fathomless. He cannot read her expression. He wonders if she thinks he’s lying.

“You’re really strong,” Tanjirou adds, just in case. “You’re cool and awesome and really fast and—”

“I get it,” she interrupts, her ears reddening. She smiles softly. “Thanks.”

“It’s nothing,” Tanjirou says. He doesn’t add, and you have a great smile and you should use it more.

ii.

Hand in hand, Tanjirou and Nezuko stand in front of the Butterfly Estate, in front of the place they’ve called home for the past few months. For the first time in almost a year, both siblings stand under the sun, neither of them suffering from blood lust or a demonic urge.

“So, this is it,” Nezuko says softly, her rough hand gripping his tight.

They are from a poor family. There never was an option for Nezuko to be anything more than a working girl, but Tanjirou still feels a pang of guilt that his sister will never have hands as soft as a lady’s. Still, those hands saved him more times than he can count, and he squeezes back appreciatively. “It is.”

The front door opens and Kanao steps out. There’s a small basket in her hands and Nezuko lets go to take it. When his sister peeks inside inquisitively, Kanao explains, “We thought you might get hungry during the trip.”

His heart swells. No doubt Aoi took the lead, forcing everyone to stay on task and schedule. Tanjirou is glad that finally it’s all over, that it isn’t impossible for him to return home, but he cannot deny he’ll miss living on the estate. In many ways, the girls here replaced the siblings he lost. He smiles. “Thanks.”

“It’s nothing,” Kanao mumbles.

Nezuko shoots him a knowing look before wrapping her arms firmly around the basket. “I’ll go ahead.”

“Huh?” Tanjirou steps forward. Even with one arm, he is still strong from his days chopping wood, carrying coal, swinging swords. “I can take—”

“It’s fine!” Nezuko insists, glaring at him as she turns around and all but runs down the path to where Inosuke and Zenitsu are waiting. He doesn’t know what to make of that.

This leaves just him and Kanao. The two of them stand there in a comfortable silence. It has always been that way with her; no matter what they’re doing, it’s comfortable. Unfortunately, they can’t just stand there forever, and he straightens. “Thanks for everything.”

“It’s…” Kanao wets her lip, her clasped fingers fidgeting nervously. “It’s nothing. Just…”

This is rare. She’s never asked for anything before and he leans forward, eager to please. “Just?”

“We’ll…see each other again?” There’s a desperate note in her voice, her good eye meeting his.

He doesn’t think before he nods. Later, he’ll recognize her expression as loneliness, as the same one he wore when Nezuko first turned. Now, his gut knows what his mind has yet to understand, and Tanjirou grabs her hand and squeezes. “Definitely. I’ll come and visit. This isn’t goodbye, just see you later.”

Her smile is as soft as a butterfly’s brush as she squeezes back.

iii.

Visiting Kanao by train eats up nearly all of their savings. Tanjirou is used to poverty, used to walking until his feet are sore and sleeping on the most threadbare of blankets. Living as a demon slayer had been luxurious compared to his usual fare. Coming back home only reminds him of the reality of his situation.

There was no one to take care of his house, so it fell apart. There was no one to care for his garden, so it ran wild. Fortunately, there is Inosuke and Zenitsu and between the three of them, Tanjirou’s old house is in shape in no time. Nezuko scavenges whatever supplies they have left, putting together blankets and clothes and turning rusted pots into multipurpose cooking utensils.

It all comes back to two of them very easily: the art of how to make something out of nothing. They scrape and they save and Tanjirou earmarks money for repairs and other must-haves.

Nezuko forces him to take a cut for a trip by train. It will take weeks to get to Kanao otherwise, she points out (rightly). He is blind in an eye, with an arm he can’t use, and what if he gets attacked, she adds (somewhat rightly).

He has never been able to say no to his sister.

Tanjirou is used to walking until there are holes in his shoes. Travelling by train is a new experience. The last time he had been on one, he had been too tense to enjoy it. The last time he had been on one, it had tried to eat him.

This time, though, the train stays on the rails and in one piece. He doesn’t sleep, too engrossed in the way the countryside rushes past as they head further and further away from home. A whistle goes off. There’s the scent of coal in the air. He can hear the wheels clatter as they chug down the hot rail.

Inosuke was right to treat it like an animal. Tanjirou feels like he is in the belly of a fast-moving beast.

All too quickly, the train pulls to a stop. Tanjirou grabs his small bag before jumping off, searching the crowded platform for a familiar face. He smells her before he sees her, a familiar rose-water scent that he thinks he’ll recognize no matter where they are.

“Kanao!” He spins on his heel, turning his head as he tries to check his blind spot.

There’s a butterfly clip amongst the sea of people. Kanao turns, her eyes widening as she spots him. “You’re here,” she breathes.

“I am.” He smiles. It’s almost automatic now, when he sees her. There’s something about her that leaves him feeling warm and bubbly.

Her eyes crinkle. “Welcome back.”

iv.

Tanjirou can’t say exactly when the estate starts to feel like a second home, when Kanao starts to spend as many nights in his shack in the woods as he spent days in the butterfly-pea scented home of hers. It is probably the same time she begins to call him by his name, or when he finds himself holding her hand as they wait at the train station.

What he can say, though, is that he’s glad that no one else is in right now. He’s standing in the courtyard with Kanao, stepping through his father’s dance, and while it isn’t a secret, he doesn’t want anyone prying either. Lately, Nezuko and Aoi have gotten all kinds of annoying when Tanjirou and Kanao are alone, and he’s glad that for once they are free of that.

He’s also found Kanao smiles more when they’re alone together, and while he doesn’t understand why, he’ll do whatever he can to make that happen. And often that means embarrassing himself in a way he doesn’t want the others to tease him about.

Today, though, he is merely walking through his father’s dance. His left arm tingles a little when he tries to move it, like it’s remembering an old pain. There’s still no sensation from it.

“That’s beautiful,” Kanao says, clapping as he finishes.

She’s in his blind spot and by the time he turns to face her, she’s already clasped her hands on her lap, her expression a soft neutral once more. It’s frustrating. His good arm is on his bad eye’s side, and he finds he misses things more often than he catches them.

He can only imagine what Kanao’s vision is like. Despite her assurances, he’s certain she’s completely blind in one eye, and almost there in the other. It’s not entirely his fault, but it’s also not not his fault. Tanjirou might not be able to make up for it, but he can compensate in the only way he knows how: making her smile.

“You want to do it?” he asks, taking her hand in his and pulling her up before she can reply.

“W-what?” She stiffens but doesn’t pull away, her cheeks reddening. It’s probably embarrassment. He wants to reassure her.

“I’ll show you how to do it.” Gently, he leads her to the center of the courtyard. With the way she fights, he is certain Kanao’s a graceful dancer. Dancing always makes him smile and it can’t do less for her.

“I... I’m not…” Kanao glances at him before quietly asking, “Show me.”

“Of course.” He grins as he takes her hands in his and sets her in the first position. “One.” Tanjirou lifts her right arm and gently taps her left leg so she shifts her weight onto it. “Two.”

One by one, he molds her body into the moves, his fire dance turning more into an ember dance. The flames are still there, but just barely, a warmth that could be used to help rather than burn.

“That’s right,” Tanjirou encourages as she shifts into the final position.

“Tha—” Kanao squeaks as she stumbles over a pebble.

“Kanao!” He doesn’t hesitate before grabbing her hand, yanking her into his arms. The momentum throws him off balance and he leans back, trying to keep them from falling. Tanjirou doesn’t let go. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah,” she murmurs, her head buried in his chest. Her long hair brushes his bare arms as she looks up.

She’s close. Too close. He can feel her breath on his face, count the shades of purple in her eyes, see every lash when she blinks. Her skin is red again, a blush that climbs down her neck until it swallows her whole.

And just like that, he understands exactly how he feels when he’s with her. How he’s been feeling for a long time, really.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he whispers.

Her skin turns a brighter shade of red but she only smiles in response.

Even in his twenties, Tanjirou is poor. He thinks he will always be poor, that this fate has been carved into his body in the same way that Nezuko’s scratches are still on his arm or that his sister has never fully healed from the scars he left her.

Yet, he is happy. He has never needed much in life, just a bed to sleep in, food to eat, and good company. He has that in spades with Zenitsu, Nezuko, and Inosuke.

And he’ll never be alone as long as Kanao holds his hand. It’s probably his imagination, but even when she holds his bad hand, he can feel it. His mother once told him love could heal any wound. That was true with him and Nezuko, and that is definitely true between him and Kanao.

Still, Tanjirou is in a better place than he was even five years ago. The Butterfly Estate is provided for. He and Kanao have found ways to use their skills in a more modern Japan, in one that doesn’t need demons nor demon slayers.

And little by little, they save, until they can afford treats like going to a local festival. Kanao’s hand is in his, like they’ve done a hundred times before, but it feels different now. More special, somehow, as though realizing his feelings has turned the ordinary into the extraordinary.

Kanao hums softly as they follow the path to the village. She does that sometimes, when they’re alone. It’s like he’s uncovering a new thing about her every day. How can anyone have so many mysteries? And how can he want more—Tanjirou never tires of learning of yet another new side of his love.

The sweet smell of magnolia’s fills the air. As they pass by a tree, its pink flowers slowly blooming in the night air, he plucks one and tucks it in her hair. Immediately, she reddens, looking up at him quizzically.

“It looks good on you,” he explains.

She flushes as she smiles.

vi.

The only number better than two is three. Tanjirou presses his ear against Kanao’s slowly swelling belly. There’s a small thump. “I think I hear her kick,” he whispers, awestruck.

“It’s too early,” Kanao replies, threading her hand through his hair.

He can’t see her expression like this, but he doesn’t want to move either. Tanjirou listens again. Outside the room, he can hear Inosuke and Aoi arguing. Outside the room, he can hear a raven caw. He ignores it all, focusing instead on the small life beneath his ear. “I’m pretty sure she’s kicking.”

“She might not be a girl,” Kanao reminds, twirling a lock around her finger.

“She will be.” Tanjirou lifts his head slightly, just enough that he can watch her expression. “She told me so.”

Kanao smiles, like a flower opening. These days, she smiles every day, over everything. “She didn’t.”

“She did,” he replies, lowering his head once more. “Should I tell you what else she said?”

Tanjirou hopes their daughter has her mother’s smile.

#tankana #tanjiro kamado #kimetsu no yaiba #kanao tsuyuri #tanjiro x kanao #nezuko kamado #fanfic

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acefaun · 1 year ago

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Hi!!!

Please write a part 2, where Lou faces the consequences of HIS ACTIONS.

Where-

His mother slaps him, in front of everyone, while his father says he is disappointed in him, because they never thought their son would do something like that. They have started considering the mc as their own daughter so they could never imagine that, a boy who would never hurt anyone would hurt the girl he claimed to love the most. His mother says she never wants to see him ever again, with tears streaming down her eyes.

The gods, looked disappointed and somewhat angry. Krioff hands were in fire, ready to get at Tauxolouve, if given the chance. Krioff had started considering mc as his sister, after all they had similarities. He was angry on himself for not being able to save mc sooner.

The King thought of the time when Tauxolouve's birth parents came to him and asked him to let Tauxolouve be adopted by their friends ( Tauxolouve's parents).

Mc was standing there see all this unfold. Was she happy maybe not, but she was certainly relieved.😌

Please write a second part these key points.

Yandere Tauxolouve II~ The Outcome

Synopsis: Facing his fate, Tauxolouve is disowned and left a broken man, stripped of all powers, dignity, and title. Looking back… he only wanted to love you… and he hated himself for it.

🩸Yandere Masterlist🩸 Female goldfish! (Primarily Lou’s POV)

A/n: I LOVE that y’all were able to feel my feelings through this! 💖💖 This is my favorite part as a writer. Sure, I love making stories out of the wazoo, But I love forcing emotions onto people!! Not to be weird, but the way Lou was enjoying MC’s tears, I'M ENJOYING YOUR TEARS BECAUSE I’M CRYING TOO. Oh my lord, it hurt so much to write some of these lines. 🥺 (Other note: I 100% wrote all of Zyglavis’ lines in Neuvillette’s voice. It’s engrained in my head now.)

–Word Count: 2,945–

His dull eyes stared across the barren cell, only observing the wall before him. It was blank… Much like the walls of his room before you walked into his life. It was an unavoidable fate, wasn't it? Ever since he first saw the vision of him killing you… he thought it was some form of cruel irony. He did everything in his power to stop it from becoming a reality. But… in the end… it was all inevitable.

You were the only bright spark in his life; you made him see that it was all worth living while there was still time left. Still, all the times he saw his death, it made him want to hold you all the tighter.

Tighter. And tighter. And tighter.

Until he had no choice but to watch you walk away in the arms of another god. His heart clenched again. You should have been his. Up until the very end of his existence, you should have been his. Even now, locked away in a cell, stripped of his powers, reflecting on how wrong it was for him to love you like this, he still wanted you.

The other gods were right, he certainly was a pathetic god; but he was only so pathetic for you. You were the cruel one for rejecting his love. He would have done anything for you, and you turned your back on his love. Was it wrong, too, for him to think that this was all your fault? You should have picked another god to protect you from those dark gods… if this was what you were going to do to Tauxolouve.

Tauxolouve resented how things got to this point. If you had just behaved like you were supposed to—no. If you hadn’t hung all over the other gods the way you always did… Maybe then his sanity would have been salvageable. But… it was his fault too for giving into your sinful human temptations. He couldn’t help but ponder if this was why loving a human was considered a sin…

Perhaps this was why his father was cast out of the Heavens as well. It seemed that Tauxolouve was just destined to follow in his father's footsteps.

Footsteps echoed through the barren prison, before stopping outside the bars of Tauxolouve’s cell. Taking a glance up, Leon had come to retrieve him from his cell already. Had such time passed that they were ready to judge him?

Leon and Tauxolouve stared at each other for a solemn moment before Leon bluntly announced, “It’s time.”

Tauxolouve didn’t respond, simply nodding his head and following Leon obediently as his cell was opened. He was being treated like a prisoner, as expected, but it wasn’t like he didn’t deserve any of this. He could admit to his faults at this point. He hated himself for everything he had and everything he lost.

However, if there was one thing he could avoid, it would have to be facing you. He didn’t want to see you again, however strange that might have seemed for someone so obsessed with you. Despite how possessed and obsessive Tauxolouve was, he knew the carnal urge to have you was all too fresh in his soul. He loved you, and so he was a danger to you.

It was best to get this over with, he decided as he followed Leon’s footsteps to the Department of Punishments.

Whispers followed him. Rumors of his deeds met his ears, having spread like wildfire across the Heavens. He loathed these gossiping gods as much as he loathed himself. He loathed- No… He loved you.

He wanted to resist looking at you, but the minute he caught sight of you across the courtroom, he flinched. Seeing you in his mother’s arms, he couldn’t help but long for it to be him comforting you.

Leon stepped forward, blocking Tauxolouve’s view, giving a pointed look at the younger demigod. He had no sympathy as he ushered Tauxolouve in the opposite direction from you, being directed into the defendant’s stand; though, he knew there was nothing to defend against. This entire trial was just for appearances and formalities sake; Tauxolouve was unquestionably guilty.

Zyglavis’ eyes lingered on Tauxolouve for a brief moment. There weren’t any obvious emotions on his face, as expected of an impartial judge. Still, his thoughts were none too pleasant; such was the vibe in the room. Inclining his head, he addressed the court, “Now that all parties are present and accounted for, the trial shall begin.” Assessing the room, Zyglavis noted that Tauxolouve’s gaze was focused on you. Zyglavis’ sharp eyes narrowed. “Tauxolouve, I ask that you remain focused, please.”

Regardless of Zyglavis’ sharp command, Tauxolouve hardly paid any attention as Zyglavis listed his crimes and recounted what had to have been your description of events. His eyes were locked on you the entire time, though you refused to even glance at him. He hated how you were staring at Zyglavis. The thought of you having eyes for anyone else drove him mad…

His mind was so preoccupied with thoughts of stealing you away once again, he didn’t register that he was being addressed until Zyglavis loudly interrupted his train of thought. “Tauxolouve, I will ask you again. If you have nothing truthful to add in your defense…” He paused, the tension growing in the room. “Do you plead guilty?”

The court waited with bated breath.

After a minute of thick, suffocating silence, Tauxolouve replied, “I do.”

“Then our verdict is such…” Zyglavis announced to the court, “Tauxolouve, ex-god of Sagittarius, is guilty of all confirmed charges. As decreed by the King of the Heavens himself, Tauxolouve shall be stripped of his godhood and exiled from the Heavens. In accordance with the severity of his crimes regarding human life and death, a curse of eternity shall be placed upon him.” Inclining his head, he briskly concluded, “Court is adjourned.”

With Zyglavis as the judge, things went exceptionally smooth. Any quarrels or arguments were swiftly silenced, and the entire trial started and ended in a timely manner. Finally, after it was all said and done, it was time for the punishment to be fulfilled. The Zodiac gods and select other gods were gathered before the King’s throne. Tauxolouve was going to be dealt with at last.

While waiting on the King’s appearance, you unexpectedly approached Zyglavis and he regarded you curiously. Aside from the quiet chatter around the room, everything else was quiet. Your voice was no exception as you timidly inquired, “I’m not familiar with divine sentences… but you said he’d be exiled and cursed. What does that mean?”

Zyglavis’ eyebrows were furrowed, as if he were conflicted over something. Still, he answered, “These types of punishments were decided long ago for such sins involving humans, as well as the natural cycle of living things. The curse will allow his soul to be placed on the wheel of rebirth, forever as a human; however, he will retain his memories as a god. He will be forced to suffer with his sin for an eternity.”

“He’ll be reincarnated on Earth…” You slowly repeated, “with his memories of me?”

“We considered that this could be a danger to you,” Zyglavis quietly agreed with your unspoken concerns. “But this is the King’s final decision, and we’re reassured that Earth is much too big a place for him to find you. But as for our negligence to your situation…” He trailed off, his hand gently landing on your head. His goal was to comfort you with this minimal affection in front of the other gods. “You will have our blessings as Zodiac Gods. Once this punishment is finally complete, there will be no further threat to your freedom or your life.”

***

Seeing you share hushed words with Zyglavis infuriated Tauxolouve more than he cared to imagine it would. But all he could do was watch the scene take place, his heart clenching with pain. Was watching all he could do? After all, the minute Zyglavis’ hand came into contact with your head, he lost his composure.

Seeing that something was off, Karno called out quietly, “Lou-”

“Don’t touch her~” Tauxolouve interrupted Karno’s concerned call. In an instant, his arms were wrapped around you, pulling you away from Zyglavis before the god had a chance to move. It was almost as if Tauxolouve were trying to shield you away from the other gods, when it should have been the opposite way around.

The gods panicked at the situation that came up so suddenly. They never should have left any open space between you and Tauxolouve. However, they were fortunate to have the right people with them to defuse the situation—or at least help out in ways the zodiac gods couldn’t.

Tears had already started to well up in your eyes, but to keep you from panicking and feeling trapped, Tauxolouve’s mother, Sofia, was holding your arms firmly. For the moment, they were all trying their best to remain calm and collected. “Louie…” She struggled to say, “Let go of her.” Tauxolouve and Sofia stared into each other’s eyes, but it was as if Tauxolouve was searching for something he’d never find. “It’s too late…”

Tauxolouve was clutching desperately onto you. In his mind, he would rather die with you than die alone and suffer fate the way they had planned it for him. Tears welled in his eyes in sheer desperation as his nose nuzzled into your hair. “I can’t…” He admitted, his voice cracking. “I just wanted to love her… I didn’t want things to end like this. But I couldn’t stop it…”

Tauxolouve’s father, Nasir, placed a hand on his shoulder, quietly ushering, “Just let go; that’s the only way you can fix this.” They had to make Tauxolouve release you calmly, lest they put you in a worse situation.

Your eyes were wide as you felt tears dripping above your head. Tauxolouve was already suffering for what he’d done, and he wasn’t even exiled yet…

You hoarsely whispered, “Lou…”

Tauxolouve’s eyes widened as he loosened his grip on you. Between his parent’s gentle coaxing and your quiet plea, he was able to see the pain that surrounded him. He whispered into your ear, “I’m sorry… for everything…”

His grip had loosened enough to where you were pulled away from him by Sofia, and Tauxolouve was again forced away from you, restrained by the other gods.

Sofia held you against her chest like a child, caressing your head as you numbly cried without registering the tears that fell. You never expected Tauxolouve to apologize like that. For that one, brief moment, he sounded like he meant it. What was more than that, he sounded burdened by tremendous guilt—as if his actions were finally registering in his head. You couldn’t help but wonder… Was he finally hurting as much as he had hurt you?

“What were you thinking?” Sofia suddenly snapped. Finally, after having seen his seeming obsession for herself, she seemed to lose her composure.

Seeing her reaction, Huedhaut instinctively reached out to comfort you in her place as she approached her son. After all, this was going to be their last time to speak.

However, no one was expecting her to slap Tauxolouve…

The loud smack made everything fall silent, your sniffled the only quiet sound being made in the large throne room.

Nasir held onto Sofia for comfort, though the two of them were both clearly torn, expressing it in different ways. “We never thought our son would do something like this,” he solemnly said. “We didn’t want to believe it, even after watching the trial. If only we didn’t have to see the evidence right in front of our eyes…” His eyebrows furrowed in frustration, yet remaining calm as he expressed himself. “We’re unfathomably disappointed in you.”

Sofia, heartbroken by Tauxolouve’s actions, shockingly announced, “No son of ours would have ever done the things you’ve done to this poor young lady. Our Louie would have never hurt anyone… especially the girl he claimed to love most.” Her eyes flickered to the ground, and it was clear that their words implied that Tauxolouve was being disowned. Tears were streaming down her delicate face as she uttered, “I never want to see you… ever again… Tauxolouve…”

These words were breaking Tauxolouve bit by bit. Hearing Sofia say his full name was so foreign to him… it didn’t sound right. None of this was right.

He wasn’t right.

His guilt melded into hate… hate for himself and his actions. But… he still sought your love and forgiveness, because that was all that mattered in his mind. “I’m sorry!” Despite his sudden struggling, he failed to pull out from the arms of Leon and Krioff. “(NAME)!” He wanted you to look at him. Time was running out. Why weren’t you looking at him?! “(NAME), I’m sorry!” Why? Why wouldn’t you even glance his way? He wanted to scream.

Watching the scene empathetically, the gods were just as disappointed in Tauxolouve as Nasir and Sofia. It was clear that everyone had higher expectations for him. He shattered their reality. Seeing what he’d done to you pissed all of them off, and there was no apologizing for that. All the Zodiac gods cared for you; that was no secret. So it was fairly obvious the harsh reaction one would receive if anyone were to hurt you. Tauxolouve had irreparably hurt the one person they all agreed to protect…

Krioff, who had much in common with you, had even started considering you as his sister. The guilt in his chest festered into a hot anger at the thought of not having been able to save you sooner. They all should have known better when you suddenly stopped making appearances in the mansion with all of them. They really failed you…

Hell, even the King of the Heavens was displeased with this turn of events—however much he knew it was inevitable to happen. He knew the dangers of allowing a demigod to join the pantheon. Tauxolouve never had the constitution of a god to avoid his sinful nature.

Still… he had pitied Tauxolouve’s parents when they brought this demigod infant before him, pleading for his protection…

He could no longer uphold that promise.

Revealing himself amongst the gods, his presence settled the chaos by forcing silence to fall upon everyone.

Apathetically, he looked down upon the gods gathered there, before his unforgiving gaze landed on Tauxolouve. “It is time. There is no need for you to say your farewells to the gods here, nor this human. You will live with your sins for eternity and have no solace in redemption, nor forgiveness. Therefore… I hereby cast you out.”

A bright light suddenly overtook everything in the room, and for a moment, your tears stopped overflowing. This bright light was so warm and comforting all around you. For the first time in months, you felt like it was all over. Your soul felt at peace. Maybe it was the blessings of the King and the 11 Zodiac gods present, or maybe it was just the sudden relief hitting you.

You recalled Zyglavis’ words from earlier… You were finally free.

#star crossed myth #star crossed myth fanfic #star crossed myth yandere #scm tauxolouve #department of wishes #fanfic #voltage fanfic #zodiac gods #yandere #yandere x reader

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the-jam-to-the-unicorn · 9 months ago

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Address by Zelenskyy on the Day of Remembrance and Victory over Nazism in World War II

youtube

“They break into your house. They come to kill, burn, execute. They don't spare anyone – the elderly, women, children… They are beasts…”

These are the memories of the Nazi occupation survivors.

And these are the memories of the Russian occupation survivors. The same horrors, the crimes of the same monsters.

80 years ago, millions of Ukrainians fought to defeat Nazism forever. But today, Ukrainians are once again standing up to evil, which reemerged, returned, and wants to destroy us again. It’s an army of a fiend that kills, tortures and wipes peaceful cities and villages off the face of the Earth. This evil is called Russian fascism, or RF for short.

A witness to this is this basement in the village of Yahidne in the Chernihiv region. The ruscists herded all the villagers into it and kept them there for almost a month. All of them. 350 people, all the children of this village, 80 girls and boys, the youngest of whom was a month and a half old. Everyone in the world can understand what Putin's Russia is by imagining themself here, in this basement, among these people, without light, food, water, medicine, and air, in a room with less than a meter per person. They slept seated. They went outside only once. They ate 200 grams of soup a day. The men were stripped naked in the freezing cold to find Ukrainian tattoos. 10 of the hostages died here. It was forbidden to bury them. Another 17 people were killed by the ruscists. In any corner of the world, that’s known by the same word – hell. When entire villages are burned down, when there are mass executions, when people are put against a wall blindfolded to be killed – in any corner of the world, that's known by the same word – Nazism. If that's not Nazism, then what is that?

And everyone on Earth knows history and remembers how to fight Nazism. It’s done with humanity united to oppose Hitler, not with buying oil from him or attending his inauguration.

Yahidne, a village that survived the hell of the RF, is just one example. It's just one village, but it reflects the essence of Putin's vision of the world, his real goals. And his goal is to force underground all those who want to live freely, to force a whole village into the basement, and then another one, and then the whole of Ukraine, and finally, force the whole world into the basement. For the RF, these are just stages of their morbid plan to imprison freedom in a ghetto, in a concentration camp called the "Russian world," and to export Russia's main asset – barbed wire – worldwide, by repeating the same scenario Hitler created 80 years ago: swallowing the lands of others step by step and testing the world’s reaction. And when the reaction is spineless, the Nazis keep going. Appeals, resolutions, and half-sanctions don't stop them. And the only question Putin is concerned about today is: Who's next?

Russia has officially approved a list of states that cannot feel safe and called it a “List of Unfriendly States.” Tellingly, it almost completely coincides with the list of the states of the Anti-Hitler Coalition. Those who defeated Nazism are enemies for modern Russia: the countries of the European Union, the United Kingdom, the United States, Canada, and almost fifty states in total. They are free, democratic and independent, which in the modern Kremlin ideology means “dangerous.” And therefore, they are targets.

The world didn't see the threat, the world slept through the revival of Nazism – at 5 a.m. on February 24, 2022. And today, everyone who remembers World War II and has survived to this day is experiencing déjà vu. The Battle of Kyiv, bombing of Kharkiv, Odesa, Dnipro, mass graves, blockade of ports, plundering and seizure of grain, tortures, executions, deportation of children, filtration camps, and colonies for captives. Russia has brought pages from textbooks about World War II back into the headlines of the world's media. Russia has brought the terrible past back into the daily news, proving with each new crime that Nazism has revived. Just this time it has a new label: “Made in Russia.”

Recently, our society was moved by a photo of a man at the grave of his grandson who died at war. The father of this man was killed by the Nazis. His grandson's life was taken by the Russian occupiers. This is just one of the millions of examples that put the sign of equality between Nazism and modern Russia.

Today, Hitler's ideas are voiced in Russian. Nazi crimes are committed under the Russian flag. The difference is merely formal. The new Wehrmacht that invaded Ukraine wears a double-headed eagle on its sleeves. Kalibrs and Kinzhals are the new V-weapons, MiGs and Su-aircrafts are the new Luftwaffe, a Z symbol is the new swastika, and Yunarmiya is the new Hitlerjugend. There are dozens of similar parallels and hundreds of similar emulations.

And if the modern Kremlin resembles the Third Reich in everything, its end should be identical, taking place in the new Nuremberg – in the city of The Hague.

And like in 1945 this can only be ensured by a united free world, the world united in Anti-Putin Coalition, the world that can stop Moscow Nazis through actions, not words, and prevent the new evil from spreading to the entire European continent and, subsequently, to the entire world, the world capable of helping Ukraine defeat Russian Nazism, helping itself, and proving its commitment to the words “Never again!”, so that “Never again!” becomes relevant again.

Dear Ukrainians!

The residents of the village of Yahidne were held here for 27 days. On March 30, 2022, the village was liberated from the ruscist invaders. On April 19, it was demined by our military forces. This symbolizes that history is repeating itself, and everyone who came to destroy us will eventually have to flee from Ukrainian land. A part of our territory is still occupied, and some of our people are held in captivity, which means that our battle continues. And today, on the Day of Remembrance and Victory over Nazism, as we commemorate the millions of Ukrainians who fought and gained victory together with other nations, we keep believing and we bring a new day of a new victory closer.

When the expulsion of the Nazis from Ukraine, we read about in the history textbooks, will happen in real life. And the event of the mid-twentieth century will be repeated and become part of the history of the 21st century, the history of our joint victory over Russian evil.

Greetings on the Day of Remembrance and Victory over Nazism in World War II!

Glory to Ukraine!

#one of his best addresses #very gut-wrenching #leaves you with goosbumps of the chilling kind #on point though #a hard sombre watch but a must watch #rarely so far we heard him saying all of this so frankly out loud and called putin and russia what they are #here and there in some interviews but not often that frankly #but good we should absolutely do more often #putin is a dictator #russia is a facist terror regime #and the comparsion with nazism and the third reich are not overestimating or just talks from pro-ukraine supporters #these comparsions dont come from anything #they based on facts #volodymyr zelensky #volodymyr zelenskyy #zelenskyy #ukraine #war #Youtube

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killjoyfem · 2 years ago

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Agree on not accepting feminazi in any way even ironically!! Human rights protectors should never be compared to murderers and criminals

Funny story: I only live in Brazil nowadays because my family had to flee Poland during WW II due to the persecution of Jewish folks and the occupation by the Germans and Soviets. I am, literally, of Jewish descent.

Trying to compare Radical Feminists to how Nazis operated would be comical if it wasn’t so tragic. We know today the amount of women who were raped by both sides of the war, and we know it only happened because they were women and that males didn’t get targeted that way nearly as often. Sexual humiliation of the Jewish body was an inevitable consequence of the dehumanizing Nazi racial theories and the misogyny of the soldiers - the latter coming again from both sides of the war.

When you put it into perspective, saying things like “feminazi” or “I’d punch a terf before a Nazi” is extremely cruel. Not only cruel, but ignorant too; of the realities of how horrific nazism was/is and specifically how bad it was for women, who were often made targets because of their sex:

Edmond Baumvald, Holocaust survivor of the Janowska camp in Lviv, recalled that a member of camp leadership forced Jewish newcomers to strip in order to take their possessions. One of the young women refused to do so. For disobedience, he forced her to lift her skirt from behind and then shot her in the genitals. He called up a Jewish man and ordered him to cart her around the square until she died.

Selections would take place in the barracks, in training yards, during recruitment, after the women came back from work, or before deportations. They would usually take several young women at once. A survivor of Stepan ghetto remembers: “At night, policemen would bring Germans, and they would grab young women and rape them. They really brutalized them… They took [the women] away, and then brought them back and left them half dead.”

In some camps and ghettos, women went through forced abortions, sterilizations and medical experiments. Beila Habis, Holocaust survivor from the Bershad camp in Vinnytsia oblast, remembered that women in the camp “had formaldehyde solution injected in utero,” which caused strong pain and bleeding. Such violence constituted an attack against women’s reproductive body biologically designed to reproduce the Jewish nation; it can thus be considered genocidal sexual violence.

Gang rape was not a rare phenomenon during the Holocaust. Groups of perpetrators would barge into barracks and rape young women right in front of everyone present. Those who resisted could be beaten or killed. Some girls and young women were chosen specifically for sexual abuse. They were selected among permanent residents of ghettos and camps.

Women’s experiences of WWII prove that some suffering is indeed based on sex. Nazi camps and ghettos in Ukraine were just some of the places in the topography of sexual terror against Jewish women and girls. But it was there, in the spaces of forced confinement and lack of freedom, where sexual violence was especially concentrated, widespread and brutal. (source)

#asks #trigger warning: graphic content #radblr #terf safe #anti semitism

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mariacallous · 2 years ago

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Meduza's The Beet: Kaliningrad: An imperial gem and a thorn in everyone’s side

Hello, and welcome back to The Beet!

Eilish Hart here, the editor of this special dispatch from Meduza covering developments across Eurasia. If someone forwarded you this newsletter, you can sign up here to receive a fresh edition every Thursday. Some of our stories, like last week’s report about Kyrgyzstan and Uzbekistan’s contentious border deal, are available on Meduza’s website, but others are exclusive to subscribers — the more the merrier!

Last September, Vladimir Putin kicked off the school year more than a thousand kilometers from Moscow — in Russia’s western exclave of Kaliningrad. After addressing an audience of star pupils, Putin opened the floor for questions, and a teenage girl immediately confronted him with her concerns about the future. “What plans does Russia have for the development of biotechnology and bioengineering,” the 17-year-old asked, “under the present circumstances, when we’ve been cut off from so many foreign technologies?” Skirting the topic of international sanctions and the brutal war that triggered them, Putin gave an evasive reply: “Regarding the issue of someone cutting someone off from something, that’s really hard to do in the modern world. [...] Can you imagine it? It’s practically impossible.”

A birds-eye view of Kaliningrad, Russia. August 2017.

LARS BARON / GETTY IMAGES

Ironically, Putin was visiting a corner of Russia where the effects of being “cut off” are felt in more ways than one. Bordering Poland, Lithuania, and the Baltic Sea, the Kaliningrad region has no land links to the rest of the Russian Federation. And prior to World War II, it wasn’t part of Russia at all. The territory changed hands as a result of the Allied victory, passing from Adolf Hitler’s defeated Germany to Joseph Stalin’s USSR. The Soviet authorities stripped the region of its German population and heritage, changing the name of its capital from Königsberg to Kaliningrad and turning a centuries-old port city into a restricted military zone. Since 1991, Kaliningrad has become even more isolated, geopolitically speaking, as its neighbors joined NATO and the European Union. But local residents enjoyed the perks of proximity to E.U. countries and, in recent memory, even saw their city open its doors to the world during the FIFA World Cup in 2018. Just a few short years later, however, the fallout from Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine has left Kaliningrad and its residents “cut off” from Europe once again. Journalist Sergey Faldin reports for The Beet.

Kaliningrad: An imperial gem and a thorn in everyone’s side

By Sergey Faldin

In August 1944, British air attacks demolished most of the East Prussian city of Königsberg — literally “King’s Hill.” The next year, the German region became the first the Red Army entered on the Eastern Front of World War II, as it secured essential ports along the Baltic coast on its way to victory in Berlin.

After four years of incessant fighting, starvation, and death, the Red Army saw the territory as a valuable “war trophy”; mass killings and atrocities against German civilians ensued. “The [Red Army] soldiers had all experienced the horrors of the German invasion. Nearly everyone in the Soviet Union had a family member or a friend who had died in the war,” Nicole Eaton, an Associate Professor of History at Boston College, told The Beet. “Everyone had gone hungry and had their lives torn apart by the German invaders. East Prussia, as the first German territory the Soviets entered, became a site of vengeance for them.”

Soviet troops fighting in the Königsberg suburbs in 1945. The officer in the background is firing a German submachine gun.

SLAVA KATAMIDZE COLLECTION / GETTY IMAGES

Having occupied the region, the Red Army stayed. At the 1945 Potsdam Conference, the Allies carved up East Prussia, leaving Königsberg and much of its surrounding territory under Moscow’s control. In 1946, Königsberg became Kaliningrad, renamed after the Bolshevik revolutionary Mikhail Kalinin. The city would go on to become a Soviet military outpost with access to the Baltic Sea, a strategic point of control in Europe. Thus, as Eatonwrites in her book German Blood, Slavic Soil, “Königsberg / Kaliningrad”became “the only city ruled by both Hitler and Stalin as their domain. Not only in wartime occupation but also as an integral part of their empires.”

More than half of Königsberg’s population of about 375,000 was either killed or displaced during the war. In its aftermath, the Soviet authorities initially prevented the region’s remaining Germans from leaving, only to deport them en masse in 1947–1948. “The region is unique in one aspect,” said historian Tomasz Kamusella, a Reader at the University of St Andrews, “which is that the history of its people dates back only to 1945.”

Indeed, by 1946, the Soviet program for “resettling” the Kaliningrad region had already started to gather speed, drawing settlers from across the Russian FSFR and, to a lesser extent, from Belarus and Ukraine. Having suffered through Nazi occupation and the destruction of their hometowns, many were ready to take the leap into new Soviet territory and rebuild their lives. By the early 1950s, roughly 400,000 people from across the Soviet Union had moved to Kaliningrad.

When the USSR collapsed in 1991, and the neighboring Baltic countries regained independence, the territory and its residents were cut off from the rest of the newly formed Russian Federation, turning the Kaliningrad region into an exclave, which by the early 2000s would find itself wedged between E.U. and NATO members Lithuania and Poland.

The newfound independence of former Communist states brought about an identity crisis: for the first time in 50 years, people in Kaliningrad could talk openly about what had happened to their city before and after World War II. “Suddenly, a new narrative was formed. Not just, ‘We came to build socialism on the ruins of fascism,’” said Eaton, referring to the Communist Party’s standard credo about Kaliningrad’s postwar construction. “People began thinking and talking about their German heritage in ways they hadn’t been able to before.”

‘Gdańsk is closer than Moscow’

Eaton describes the 1990s and early 2000s as a period of “post-1991 Euro enthusiasm,” when Moscow granted relative freedom to the regions, enabling them to elect their governments without Kremlin interference. But by the mid-2000s, “Putin was re-envisioning Russia’s economic policy and started giving special attention to regions like Vladivostok and Kaliningrad,” Eaton explained. “Moscow poured a lot of money into these regions to make them feel more ‘Russian’ because as cosmopolitan port cities they seemed to be slipping away and forming strong local identities.”

Pedestrians walk along a wall in Kaliningrad. March 2004.

OLEG NIKISHIN / GETTY IMAGES

“After 1991, we suddenly started to question, What is Kaliningrad? Kalinin’s city? But he was a Bolshevik, and we’re not communists anymore,” said Yury, a crisis psychologist from Kaliningrad who now resides in Tbilisi. “Are we Prussians then? But we have no ties to them except the architecture.”

A local border traffic agreement with Poland (which lasted from 2012 to 2016, allowing Kaliningrad residents visa-free travel to nearby Polish provinces for up to 30 days) fostered ties with Europe and helped shape the identity of the people in the region as “Russian Europeans.” Slowly, people began to acknowledge their city’s German past. “In 1995, Kaliningrad marked its 50th year as a [Russian] city; but in the early 2000s it was the 750th anniversary [of its founding],” Kamusella pointed out. “Everything that happened here is our history. Even the history of Prussia and the history of fascism,” a tour guide from Kaliningrad told The Beet.

Kaliningrad’s status as a “special economic zone,” along with its European location and liberal tax policies, turned the region into a lucrative investment opportunity. Some predicted that it would become a “Baltic Hong Kong.” Foreign investors helped fund urban renewal and reconstruction projects, as well as the creation of local history museums, transforming the birthplace of philosopher Immanuel Kant into an emerging tourist destination.

“They are surrounded by Europe; it would be stupid not to trade,” says Maxim Mihutsky, an IT entrepreneur from Belarus residing in the Polish city of Gdańsk, some 100 kilometers (62 miles) from Kaliningrad. Indeed, many Kaliningrad residents used their proximity to Europe to start small businesses selling E.U. goods, shaping the region’s reputation as entrepreneurial. “Everyone has a side hustle; that’s just who we are,” said Petya, a tourism student in Kaliningrad (whose name has been changed for safety reasons). Others relished living the cross-border dream: the largest IKEA in the region is in Gdańsk, just two hours away. “There’s this Polish shop on the border; it has some of the best pies, cheese, and sausages,” Petya recalled dreamily.

As of 2016, a staggering 82 percent of Kaliningraders had passports for foreign travel (by comparison, just 30 percent of Russians hold a passport in 2023). “I’m proud to be European, I’m proud to be the last part of Russia celebrating the New Year, and I’m proud of my Germanic ‘flavor,’” Sasha, a political activist from Kaliningrad (whose name has also been changed), told The Beet.

‘Not an opposition town’

In 2009–2010, Kaliningrad rattled the Kremlin with massive anti-government protests; Moscow had to dispatch a special envoy to quell the unrest. According to Sasha, who has been an active protester for the past decade, these were the region’s first and last large-scale protests. Some of The Beet’s sources speculated that the heavy military presence in Kaliningrad — the home of Russia’s Baltic Fleet — and an alleged influx of officials who purchased land for cheap could explain the increasingly depoliticized atmosphere in the region.

A rally against corruption and abuse of power in Kaliningrad’s Yuzhny Park. October 2010.

GL0CK / SHUTTERSTOCK

Kaliningrad saw a surge in political activity during the 2011–2013 Russian protests (also known as the Bolotnaya or Snow Revolution), but the movement was ultimately suppressed. “First, they canceled the special economic zone; then they stopped trying to turn Kaliningrad into anything other than just another Russian town,” said Yury. “After Bolotnaya, Kaliningrad couldn’t be independent anymore.”

Russia’s illegal annexation of Crimea in 2014 escalated political repressions even further. The ensuing E.U. sanctions, together with the cancellation of the border agreement with Poland in 2016, also made it harder for Russians to travel to Europe.

“My friends and I tried to go out with posters, but it looked pathetic,” recalled Sasha, speaking of the later demonstrations that shook Russia in 2017, after Alexey Navalny’s exposé of then-Prime Minister Dmitry Medvedev’s ill-begotten wealth. “Only ten or twenty people would go out on the streets. Kaliningrad is not and never will be an opposition town.”

After Putin appointed Anton Alikhanov to serve as head of the Kaliningrad region in 2018, the new governor claimed there was no “special Kaliningrad identity,” underscoring that half the population wasn’t even born in the region. “Having a Moscow-appointed governor does mean a greater connection to Moscow,” said Eaton, recalling her own time in Kaliningrad and how locals often spoke of the perceived benefits of a “strong” governor who supposedly had Putin’s ear. “But it’s [about] whose interests are being met – that’s always the question,” she added. When asked about his attitude towards the Moscow-appointed governor, Sasha replied, “He’s a good man, and he’s been doing many things for the region. But I’m sure he steals.”

Sasha was among the few in Kaliningrad who protested Russia’s February 2022 invasion of Ukraine. He recalled some 300 people taking to the city’s streets but said “nobody paid [them] any special attention.”

‘Nobody cares about the war’

After Russia’s illegal annexation of Crimea in 2014, some commentators raised the question of Germany’s historical claim to Kaliningrad. In response, Moscow began sounding the alarm about so-called “Germanization” (or “Westernization”), claiming that Germany (or other NATO countries) want to take back Kaliningrad and make it their own. Foreign Minister Sergey Lavrov reiterated this rhetoric during a visit to Kaliningrad in 2021.

However, these concerns appear to exist solely within the minds of Kremlin politicians. “We Kaliningraders hate it when Muscovites come to our home and talk about Germanization,” said Sasha. “There was no Germanization, neither in the past nor the present. This is Russia, and everyone understands that.”

Central Kaliningrad. June 2022.

AP / SCANPIX / LETA

“Today’s Germany doesn’t harbor any projects of imperial conquest like Russia,” underscored Kamusella. “If there were any ideas today in Germany about taking back Kaliningrad they would be quickly silenced, mainly because of Germany’s War World II guilt and the utter impracticality of annexing a discontiguous territory where one million Russian citizens live,” Eaton concurred. “The potential secession from Russia, although a good story to sell by propagandists, is just not practical for anyone.”

In fact, against the backdrop of Russia’s war against Ukraine, Kaliningrad has only grown more isolated from Europe. Ever since Lithuania banned the transportation of E.U.-sanctioned goods to Kaliningrad in mid-2022 (a move Russian officials decried as an “illegal blockade”), Sasha’s father, a long-distance trucker, has been unable to find work. Many E.U. products that were once common in the region are no longer available on store shelves. “[There’s] odd juice boxes and Russian groceries I’ve never heard of instead of Lithuanian ones,” Sasha lamented.

Others, like Petya, do not connect these developments to the ongoing war. “When the special military operation [sic] began, my friends called me, worried,” he told The Beet, using the Kremlin’s official term for the 2022 invasion. “I was surprised: for us, nothing changed. We were, and still are, Russia. The war is in Ukraine.”

Nevertheless, the Russian exclave hasn’t been spared the war’s chilling effects. Last March, Russia’s Interior Ministry added two Kaliningrad journalists to its federal wanted list. Local activist Igor Baryshnikov, who criticized the war on social media, faces two criminal charges of spreading “false information” about the Russian military (the 64-year-old’s trial was postponed indefinitely after he was hospitalized in February). One of The Beet’s contacts from Kaliningrad declined to give an interview, citing concerns about being blacklisted as a “foreign agent.”

Last March, Alexey Milovanov, a Kaliningrad journalist and the former editor-in-chief of Novy Kaliningrad, found a sign taped to his apartment building’s front door that read “Zдесь жиVёт предатель”— “A traitor lives here” (with the capitalized Latin letters “Z” and “V” that have become key symbols in the Kremlin’s war propaganda). Milovanov posted a photo of the sign on his Telegram channel, commenting, “Ordinary fascism. Surprised it took them so long.”

Journalists at Mediazona report that some 180 killed soldiers from the Kaliningrad region are among the 18,000 independently confirmed Russian casualties in Ukraine. Recent viral videos showing mobilized troops from Kaliningrad and other regions refusing to fight and being called “cannon fodder” highlight the grim realities Russian draftees face. “We used to have a tradition in Kaliningrad,” Yury, the psychologist, explained, “that anyone who serves in the military [only] serves within the region. Seems that this tradition has been neglected.”

A pro-war “Z” adorns the facade of Kaliningrad’s Yunost Sports Palace. August 2022.

IGOR IVANKO / KOMMERSANT / SIPA USA / VIDA PRESS

Besides the initial sporadic protests and random arrests, Sasha says the atmosphere in Kaliningrad hasn’t changed much since February 24, 2022. “It’s as if nothing is happening,” he told The Beet. “Nobody cares about the war. Even the [lack of] transit [to the E.U.] isn’t affecting the mood. It’s demoralizing.”

Russia’s mobilization drive last September also provoked little backlash in the region. Sasha knows only one person who has been killed in action — “but he was a contract soldier” — and has another colleague who was called up last month and is now in Ukraine. “That one is still alive and texts me occasionally,” he said.

A great asset to an empire

In late 2022, Warsaw announced plans to construct a temporary “wall” along Poland’s border with Kaliningrad, citing concerns about Moscow potentially turning the exclave into an illegal migration route (along the lines of the 2021 E.U. border crisis with Belarus). “It took so long to tear down those walls from a historical perspective,” Kamusellatold The Beet. “Of course, we know why it’s being built, but as a historian, I also know that if erected, those walls will stand.”

“The wall has significant repercussions,” said Eaton. “In many ways, it’s a continuation of a repeating tragedy from the past century. The region, once a polyglot and multiethnic community of German, Polish, and Lithuanian speakers, became Germanized by the Nazis, and then was Russianized by the Soviets. It’s tragic because Kalinigrad’s residents after the Soviet collapse could engage in these great cross-border exchanges and cultural dialogues once again, but now no longer.”

Despite these developments, the consensus appears to be that Kaliningrad remains more of an asset than a liability to the Kremlin.

In 2018, a Russian official confirmed that Moscow had equipped the region with Iskander missiles — nuclear-capable rockets that could potentially reach not only the Baltic countries but also parts of Poland and, in certain circumstances, even Berlin. Experts debate if Kaliningrad is actually capable of launching nuclear attacks or if it’s just another Kremlin bluff. “I would say with 70-percent certainty there are nuclear missiles over there,” Kamusella said. “We all remember the Warsaw Pact and how that turned out.” (During the Cold War, the Soviet Union denied stockpiling nuclear weapons in Communist Poland, only to have their storage sites discovered after the Warsaw Pact dissolved in 1991.)

“As long as Russia and NATO exist, Kaliningrad will be a thorn in NATO’s side and vice versa. I find it difficult to imagine Kaliningrad changing hands unless this war catastrophically escalates globally,” Eaton speculated. “From an imperial perspective, Kaliningrad is a great asset,” added Kamusella. “An exclave surrounded by the enemy? It justifies whatever military measures Russia takes in that region.”

That’s all for now!

For more of Sergey Faldin’s reporting for The Beet, check out his last report on how Russia’s 2022 mobilization impacted the country’s HIV patients. Until next time,

Eilish

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intriguingpeoplebyangelafloyd · 8 months ago

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EXECUTION OF THE ROMANOV FAMILY

THE EXECUTION OF NICHOLAS II & ROMANOV FAMILY

17 July 1918

Nicholas II, his wife, his children and workers were executed in a basement in Yekaterinburg. Vladimir Lenin didn’t order the execution, but did not care about their deaths either. The family were murdered without a trial by communist Yakov Yurovsky and the Bolsheviks.

The family went down to the basement at 2:15am. Nicholas initially thought they were going to be leaving the Imperial House. The family were in the company of their workers as well as one of their pet dogs, Jimmy (who they also killed).

The execution was messy, which ultimately made the victims last moments prolonged and they suffered immensely. Many of the guards were intoxicated and two of the guards refused to shoot girls, and were sent away. Yurovsky asked the group to stand, except for Alexie who remained seating. Yurovsky took out a sheet of paper and read to the group that they had been ‘sentenced to be shot’. Nicholas turned to look at his family and said, ‘What? What?’ and his family looked at him in absolute terror. Alexandra and Olgo crossed themselves and few others protested. Yurovsky pulled out his gun and shot the Tsar in the chest, and then the guards fired at him. Alexei was covered with his father’s blood.

After Nicholas was killed they turned and killed his wife, daughters, and workers and then Alexei was shot and died against his father.

The families were then taken to an isolated part in the woods; one of the girl’s remains was sexually assaulted. The victims were stripped, and then burned with acid, and thrown into an unused mine. The remains were later retreated, and then dumped into an isolated grave. The public and media were told that the Tsar was assassinated and his family were living in a secret location.

The Soviet Union lost power in 1991, and citizens became more publicly curious about the Romanov dynasty. The remains of the family were discovered in 1991, Alexei and his sister Maria were discovered in 2007 as their remains were found in a different location. DNA tests confirmed their identities and they were reburied in St Petersburg.

#nicholasII #romanovs #russianrevolution

#nicholas II #nicholasII #romanovs #russian revolution

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fitsofgloom · 4 years ago

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I go insane 'cause I can't be tamed

Like a tiger, ooh, ooh, ooh, like a tiger . . .

#maria ford #stripped to kill II #live nude girls #katt shea #tiger

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wingwaver · 2 years ago

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Now for the grand reveal!

The lie is...

Smokescreen and Bluestreak are split-spark brothers!

Answers 2, 7, and 8 are talked about here.

At OTFCC 2004 a woman named Michelle Carolus voiced a female version of Optimus Prime in a live scrip reading drama that was a crossover of G1, BW, and RID01 written by Simon Furman.

That version of Optimus Prime was likely the inspiration to make a full fledge Prime known as Splendid Yellow Convoy for the Precursor World continuity. Splendid Yellow Convoy is the leader of the Yellow Order, made up of female transformers. She shows up in the Generations Selects Special comics. Here is the link the scrip drama on YouTube!

Lord Imperious Delirious first appearance was in 1998 in The Transformers in 3-D and would later reappear in Beast Wars: Uprising. He was originally created to be a living time capsule memory bank for an entire species, but all of the collective thoughts and knowledge gave him a life and will of his own. He is now the leader of a group called The Destructons, whose main goal is to... well, destroy! If you'd like to read his comics almost all Transformers comics can be found on readcomiconline!

In the Japanese comic strips in the Legends Universe, Starscream from Beast Wars II is the owner of a "little brother cafe"- a play on "little sister cafe"- a type of maid cafe where the staff refers to patrons as big brother/big sister.

Despite being an all male cafe, BWII Starscream hired an amnesiac Windblade from a different universe because he felt bad for her, something Armada Starscream found out when he offered to work in her place after she fell ill. The workers are also referred to with Japanese slang term for gay men. The workers included Archadis, Gas Skunk, Nightscream, and Airazor (who was changed to be male in Japan), who were all gay coded in their shows in Japan. I haven't been able to find the translations of the comics yet but there are full synopsis on the wiki here!

Meet Artemis and Moon! Robots designed by Gaia's inhabitants to keep the planet safe long after they're gone!

Gaia, throughout the show, is heavily implied to be Earth, so humans were the ones to originally build Artemis (the girl) and Moon (the rabbit) and stick them in the moon (the moon) as a failsafe to ensure that the planet would be protected even after humans were no longer on it. It's unclear if the humans in Beast Wars II went extinct or if they simply found other planets to inhabit after the climate became too dangerous for human life on Earth, but we do see remnants of cities from time to time in the show. Artemis and Moon care deeply for planet Gaia and it's creatures and do whatever they can to protect it, even if it means putting their own lives at risk. Artemis is also shown to care for beings that do not originate from Gaia, developing a crush on both Starscream and Scuba, and stating that she cares for both Galvatron and Lio Convoy and doesn't want to see either get killed. Moon is shown to care about the maximals but hesitates to care for the destrons, as he knows they're a threat to Gaia. If you'd like to watch Beast Wars II, here is the entire playlist on YouTube!

According to Vector Prime, The 13 visited Earth a long time ago and ended up in ancient Greece. To better blend in with their surroundings, they took on holoforms to interact with humans as they sat atop a mountain as not to frighten them. The humans still mistook them as Gods, probably because Liege Maximo, the drama queen he is, couldn't resist taking the form of a beautiful woman that emerging from the sea on a giant shell, causing the legend of Aphrodite to be born.

Megatronus, being so full of anger, birthed the legend of Ares, the God of War.

Solus Prime was known as Hephaestus, for all her hard work.

Alpha Trion with his infinite wisdom became Athena.

Prima became Zeus (and as a Greek mythology nerd I have to question what the absolute fuck he got up to) and Nexus Maximus was Hera.

Onyx took form to hunt and was known as Artemis and Autonomous became Apollo.

Alchemist Prime became Dionysus for his delightful concoctions.

Adaptus became known as Poseidon after his lure to Earth's chaotic sea and Mortilus became Hades for his mystery and solitude.

Epistemus became known as Demeter after helping humanity with agriculture.

And Vector himself was Hermes!

Persephone is mentioned too, but she was not one of the Primes, and I'm pretty sure she wasn't even Cybertronian! Apparently, she was the cause of a few arguments between Epistemus and Mortilus.

Here are two links to the Ask Vector Prime archives!

@presidentstarscream @love-the-leaf-shield (I saw you two mentioned wanting to be tagged in the final!)

Ok ok here's another

#I use slang in loose form as I looked into it and it can be used as a slur too #but apparently Japanese men are reclaiming it #also Mortilus totally banged that human girl #poll #polls #Transformers

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diamond-coral · 4 years ago

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The Heist- Part One

dark!Steve Rogers x Reader

You were just supposed to rob a government official’s apartment. Not Captain America’s. Right?

Series Warnings: Dark, Rape/Non-Con, kidnapping, strip club stuff, swearing

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of a strip club, swearing, committing crime ig, nothing much really.

You sure as hell weren’t a criminal. Well- your record would say otherwise, but it’s not like this was your dream profession. You wouldn’t call yourself a criminal. More of a Walmart Robin Hood; stealing from the rich and giving too...well...yourself. Fine. You were a criminal. But a girl had to pay the bills. At least you got to stick it to the man, right?

You let out a sigh while evaluating your life choices. It wasn’t every little girl’s dream to be breaking into houses and apartments for some cash or valuable possessions. Technically, you were an artist by day, going to art school in New York, living the aesthetically pleasing dream of student loans and a sky-high rent that your shifts at the strip club were hardly making a dent in. But hey, at least one time you got to dance for Captain America, even if he was reluctant and a bit shy. You were certain very few women could say the same.

And that’s how you found yourself in the elevator of a cozy apartment complex, traveling upward toward your new objective. Bella, your roommate, literal partner in crime, and the only good thing that came out of socializing with your coworkers at the club, had given you a new lead of a man who was supposedly loaded and yet lived in an accessible and modest living space. He was single, and worked some sort of political job that left his apartment constantly vacant, specifically on the day you planned for your heist. A perfect target. Some corrupt government worker who wanted to live a ‘low profile life’ yet was dumb enough to settle down in a complex who’s only security was a couple cameras and guards. Bella would easily be able to freeze the frames on the cameras for an hour, giving security the false pretense that the hallways were empty and giving you the perfect window to snatch some fancy watches and some cash.

The elevator doors opened right as you received a text message from Bella.

Cameras taken care of. Now go pay our rent ;)

You exited the elevator only to collide with a blonde woman carrying a laundry basket.

“Oh god, I’m so clumsy I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed while bending down to pick up the clothes that had fallen out of the basket.

You bent down to help her collect her clothing. “No, I’m so sorry! That was completely my fault!” You offered a smile as you stood back up, but was met with a calculating gaze as she studied you.

“I’m sorry, are you new around here?” She seemed to catch herself and her demeanor changed. “It’s just, I’ve never seen you around here before.” She gave a small smile.

“Oh ,I’m just a girlfriend!” you replied. “Just stopping by.”

“Are you Steve’s girlfriend?” she asked while gesturing to the door at the end of the hallway with her head. It was your target’s door. So the political scumbag’s name was Steve. Lovely. “I don’t think he’s home right now.”

Your brain churned out a fast response. “Yeah, I know. Unfortunately for me, he’s always working. I just left my purse, and he gave me his keys to stop by and pick it up.”

“Well I’m just glad he’s found someone with all his work. I know it’s been hard for him.”

The two of you exchanged one last goodbye smile before she stepped into the elevator.

“I’m Sharon by the way. And you are...?”

“Olivia,” you replied, the fake name came out as a second nature as the elevator doors closed.

You let out the breath you’d been holding.

“Well that could’ve gone worse,” you mutter to yourself as you approach the door at the end of the hallway.

You slipped the lock picker out of your sleeve before checking your surroundings cautiously. A minute after proceeding to insert the pick into the lock, a soft click resounded from the wooden door, and it easily swung open with a turn of the knob.

As you entered through the doorway, you took into account the little bits of vintage decoration that was dispersed amongst more modern furniture. A small Uncle Sam poster, a couple of war antiques, and some old photos with figures that remained unrecognizable in the distance. This government official seemed to have fought either in World War II or Vietnam, probably making him old. You shuddered at the fact you’d called yourself his girlfriend, but Sharon hadn’t seemed to bat an eye. Either way, you didn’t care for antiques, as much as they would have sold for a hefty price. They were probably personal to him and as you walked around, you realized there were quite a few personal items that were no use for you. As you walked into the bedroom a glint from the dresser caught your eyes, and your chest filled with giddiness and excitement as you neared. Three beautiful watches were on display under the mirror that sat atop the dresser. A Cartier that would probably sell for 8,000, a Rolex that would go for 10,000 easily, and then a beautiful older Rolex. With careful hands you snatched up the two newer watches and placed them into the small knapsack you’d been carrying. After consideration, you decided to leave the older one as it probably held a sentimental value and wouldn’t give you as much money as the other two.

You walked around some more, occasionally picking up valuables like solid gold tie clips and little pieces of Stark technology, which you were surprised he had. You had to be filthy rich to support, much less afford, anything made by that war profiteer. You picked up stashes of cash lying around, which seemed to be a lot. This man definitely seemed to use cash more than credit card which wasn’t as common around people your age. As you were rummaging around his study for any pieces of fine art (which you had already gotten two of) or government documents you could sell on the black market, you knocked over a picture frame which had landed on a file that read CLASSIFIED in red letters...right under the six letters that spelled S.H.I.E.L.D. This fucker was a S.H.I.E.L.D official. You were gonna kill Bella for the vague intel.

“Shit I need to get out of here,” you mumbled. Senators and representatives were fine targets, all usually too old and skeevy for you to care about, but a S.H.I.E.L.D. official was dangerous and could get you somewhere worse than jail. Hell, you could’ve accidentally broken into Nick Fury’s place. You were screwed. So screwed. And you needed to get the hell out of this apartment. As you went to put the picture back, you glanced at it, before doing a double take and squinting at it in the dark room. Oh. This was much worse than accidentally breaking into Nick Fury’s place.

The two men laughing with an arm around each other in war uniforms with an arm around one another was innocent enough until you could finally make out their faces. Steve Rogers an easy enough one to make out, especially considering you were on his lap a couple weeks ago, and James Buchanan Barnes looked practically unrecognizable without a murderous glare on his face.

“No,” you muttered before quickly placing the picture back down.

You once again assessed your surroundings. It all made sense. The subtle 1940’s vibe, the war antiques. Bella had said he did work for the government and that wasn’t a lie. In the corner of the room you spotted a large circular leather case that was partially unzipped. Through the slight opening of the brown leather, the red, blue, and glinting bright silver was unmistakable.

“No, no, no, fuck,” you muttered frantically as you checked your watch. You still had 38 minutes before the security cameras in the hall unfroze. That was enough time to put everything you stole back. You’d much rather work open to close shifts at the club every day for three months straight than get fucked over by Captain Fucking America.

You scrambled out of the study, moving to the living room first to put back the authentic paintings. You grabbed a stool from the high bar counter in the kitchen so you could rehang the medium sized work of art. Your mind was racing. This had to be karma for all the horrible shit you’d done in the past. God decided he had enough of your delinquent shenanigans and set you marching straight into the arms of America’s righteous hero. As you finished hanging the painting you spun around on your heel, completely forgetting you were on a wobbly wooden stool. Your heart stopped for a moment before you regained your footing. Carefully climbing down the stool, you almost missed the subtle turn of a lock coming from the door.

Oh you were so done for. Your limbs flew everywhere as you scrambled to the bedroom, sliding under the bed right as you heard the door open. The rumble of Steve Roger’s voice was clear as he talked on the phone and it cut through the walls from the living room.

“Well yea Buck, obviously Tony’s gonna be a little cold toward you. Not that I blame him. I’m just thankful he didn’t start an entire civil war over it. I guess it’s just a good thing we’re not war criminals.” He let out a chuckle before pausing. “Hey Buck? Yeah. I’m gonna have to call you back.” Another pause and you heard some rummaging around. “Why? I think my apartment was just broken into. I gotta go down to security. Yeah, thanks bud.”

Steve hung up and you heard some angry muttering as he walked into his room. From under the bed you saw his tennis shoes and dark jeans as he paced at the foot of the bed. You covered your mouth to stop your anxious breathing, afraid he’d hear you from your hiding spot.

The few minutes he spent in his room felt like eternity before he stomped out and you heard the opening and closing of another door as he exited the apartment. You crawl out from under the bed, your head spinning as you attempted to think of a way out of your predicament.

The window.

Quickly and quietly, you stood up and made your way to his bedroom window, looking out for a fire escape and letting out an annoyed huff when you saw none.

‘Maybe there’s one for the living room window,’ your brain chimed.

You rushed to the living room, scooping up the two watches and your empty knapsack on your way, and almost screamed with joy at the sight of the fire escape next to the window. Your fingers curled around the bottom of it and give it a sharp tug up, opening it just enough for you to squeeze through.

Just as you were about to lift your leg over the ledge and climb down the stairs to sweet sweet freedom, being able to forget about everything that ever happened tonight, a large hand wrapped around the back of your neck and wrenched you back with such force that you tumbled backwards and landed on your butt.

He was massive. Six feet of pure muscle towered over you as you trembled from your position on the floor. He squatted down, resting his elbows on his knees as he took you in, blue eyes practically cutting through the darkness, and you let out a small whimper.

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you stealing is wrong?”

#dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x reader #steve rogers x reader

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kom-poetry-channel · 3 years ago

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Grieg's poem "London", about the Blitz, translated into English. The physical imagery here seems to me to describe personal experience - little details like "kikker på hattemodeller" (which I have translated as "look for the latest dress") and "nobody gives it ear" have the feeling of something the poet personally saw, unlike the more abstract reflections like "souls are killed by lies".

English text:

We lie in darkness and listen to bomber-engines moan. Like factory wheels, unsleeping, the dutiful turbines drone. Restless, across the heavens, the death-mills chew their grains. The product is thrown down freely, on buildings and human brains.

We sense the whining plummet of dynamite and steel as if bodies, vulnerable, extended magnetic fields. Our shelter sways in the shockwave, until it finds footing anew. That one was meant for others. We wait for the next one, too.

Still we can smile in the darkness, protected by this fact: There are far worse fates than dying in a stupid bomb-impact. They are not Gestapo-weapons that threaten from the skies. It is not our souls that may perish; souls are killed by lies.

Better our fate than those others', deep in Europe's night, who fear their courage will waver when there is no hope of flight. In freedom we work to answer imprisoned nations' call; and so we smile in the darkness, even while bomb-sticks fall.

Morning comes, with the ocean's wet and fitful breeze. Seagulls, cawing hungry, fly 'twixt befogged trees. Here, where men had builded, stand ruins, burnt and black. Where towers had pierced the heavens is only an aching lack.

Churches and graveyards and salt-grey Elizabethan homes - How calmly the people write rubble into history's tomes. There is no avoiding losses. Blessed each bomb that fared into a Gothic building, if only a child was spared!

Art cannot be bought with bondage nor with liberty's sham. What aids it to lose one's freedom, and keep one's Nôtre-Dame? Artists have also a right to work with bodies by weapons rent. And the world shall love this London, for lack of monument!

Perhaps the mind needs freeing from signs that anciently shone that summoned us to halt. Across the rubbled stone space looms higher, larger; unhindered the south-winds blow. And freedom draws breath more deeply in that naked flow.

III

Despite machine-gunned roads, or bombed-out bus and train, the farmwife hawks from the corner the ruins' bright refrain of asters from the country. Up to the street's morning pallor stream laughing flocks of children, pale soldiers of the cellar.

Is that which gleams in the heavens expressly made for the young? Barrage balloons lumber about, like silver elephants slung in blueness. And, where at night the cannon roar defiant largesse girls stand along mirrored windows and look for the latest dress.

The lion sun rises yellow, and London's millions fight ignoring nightly terrors, bathed in cool flowing light. The siren's moaning yammer shimmers a ring of fear around us all imprisoned; yet nobody gives it ear.

Life swarms through the alleys as though the signal were: All Clear. A raid is a little matter: For our defenders are here. They battle up there, we can see them. The speed of the warcraft rips in the blue-painted whelming soaring whitened strips.

At evening we know the price of another unconquered day. "Twenty enemy aircraft, and eight of our own to pay." Those dead and unknown comrades gave what they had to lose. With charcoal hands they proffer a day for our use.

Today, tonight and tomorrow the pilots' storm-blue band shall gift the people of London the measure of their land. A sky of dear-bought seconds under which to work and live; a day to be used, that the fallen used their deaths to give.

#norwegian to english #norwegian #norwegian poetry #poem #london #nordahl grieg #poetry translation #norwegian language

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elogehakizimana · 2 years ago

Text

BEST MUSIC 2023

Best Albums

Amaarae - Fountain Baby - (8.7)

Liv.e - Girl in the Half Pearl - (8.5)

Pangaea - Changing Channels - (8.5)

L’Rain - I Killed Your Dog - (8.5)

Sufjan Stevens - Javelin - (8.5)

billy woods / Kenny Segal - Maps - (8.5)

Sofia Kourtesis - Madres - (8.4)

MIKE - Burning Desire - (8.4)

Kelela - Raven - (8.4)

Caroline Polachek - Desire, I Want To Turn Into You - (8.4)

Julie Byrne - The Greater Wings - (8.4)

Yves Tumor - Praise a Lord Who Chews... - (8.4)

Yaeji - With A Hammer - (8.4)

Fever Ray - Radical Romantics - (8.4)

Joanna Sternberg - I’ve Got Me - (8.4)

Kara Jackson - Why Does the Earth... - (8.3)

Cash Cobain - Pretty Girls Love Slizzy - (8.3)

boygenius - the record - (8.3)

Wednesday - Rat Saw God - (8.3)

Samia - Honey - (8.3)

Billy Nomates - CACTI - (8.3)

Marina Herlop - Nekkuja - (8.3)

Titanic - Vidrio - (8.3)

Jessie Ware - That! Feels Good! - (8.3)

ANOHNI and the Johnsons - My Back Was a Bridge for You to Cross - (8.3)

Jamila Woods - Water Made Us - (8.3)

Priya Ragu - Santhosam - (8.2)

Veeze - Ganger - (8.2)

Armand Hammer - We Buy Diabetic Test Strips - (8.2)

Asake - Work of Art - (8.2)

Buck Meek - Haunted Mountain - (8.1)

Maxo - Even God Has a Sense of Humor - (8.1)

Kali Uchis - Red Moon in Venus - (8.1)

Noname - Sundial - (8)

RAYE - My 21st Century Blues - (8)

U.S. Girls - Bless This Mess - (8)

Arooj Aftab / Vijay Iyer / Shahzad Ismaily - Love in Exile - (8)

Margo Price - Strays - (8)

RP Boo - Legacy Volume 2 - (8)

J Hus - Beautiful and Brutal Yard - (8)

Earl Sweatshirt & The Alchemist - Voir Dire - (8)

Victoria Monét - Jaguar II - (8)

Tirzah - trip9love…??? - (8)

Jaimie Branch - Fly or Die Fly or Die Fly or Die (World War) - (8)

Mitski - The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We - (8)

Yeule - Softscars - (8)

Jlin - Perspective EP - (8)

Sampha - Lahai - (8)

Ryuichi Sakamoto - 12 - (7.9)

Lonnie Holley - Oh Me Oh My - (7.9)

Best Tracks

Amaarae - Angels In Tibet

Julie Byrne - Moonless

billy woods / Kenny Segal - Soundcheck

The Murder Capitol - A Thousand Lives

Yaeji - Submerge FM

Pangaea - If

L'Rain - I Killed Your Dog

Jai Paul - So Long (Live)

Liv.e - Gardetto

Kelela - Raven

Fever Ray - Kandy

Amaarae - Princess Going Digital

Julie Byrne - The Greater Wings

J Hus - Who Told You

Yves Tumor - God Is a Circle

Amaarae - Counterfeit

Kara Jackson - rat

Sufjan Stevens - So You Are Tired

Sofia Kourtesis - Funkhaus

Amaarae - Desguise

Priya Ragu - Adalam Va!

BAMBII - Slip Slide

Cah Cobain - So Fire

Rema - Smooth Criminal

Priya Ragu - Black Goose

Sampha - Only

Baby Keem & Kendrick Lamar - The Hillbillies

Kali Uchis - I Wish you Roses

boygenius - Cool About It

Joanna Sternberg - I’ve Got Me

Fabiana Palladino - I Care

Jorja Smith - She Feels

James Blake - Fall Back

Billy Nomates - same gun

Mitski - Heaven

RP Boo - B.O.T.O

Marina Herlop - Busa

Victoria Monét - Alright

Earl Sweatshirt - Making The Band (Danity Kane)

Tinashe - Talk To Me Nice

Alex Lahey - You’ll Never Get Your Money Back

Buck Meek - Haunted Mountain

billy woods / Kenny Segal - Year Zero

Margo Price - County Road

Jamila Woods - Bugs

Titanic - Anónima

MIKE - African Sex Freak Fantasy

Marina Herlop - Cosset

Sequence - Healing Sounds

Samia - Kill Her Freak Out

Line Of The Year

“it's not like you love me, I know you don't love me” - Amaarae

#best albums #2023

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kellyvela · 3 years ago

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Hi! I wanted to ask you something. Jon and Sansa thinking about having children and having domestic life with their respective partners is a strong foreshadowing for jonsa. Then there was Jeyne W who also told Cat that Robb was going to name their firstborn after Ned. While Robb is dead, it's not sure if jeyne is pregnant. Sansa didn't married to Willas and Jon will not gonna steal Val. Do you think it's foreshadowing something?

Before actually answering your question, I think we can't compare Robb and Jeyne, who willingly married, actively tried to have a baby, and were arguably in love, to Sansa and Willas (they never met, they never married, they weren't in love), and Jon and Val (they never had sex, they never married, they weren't in love).

Also, while having the wish to name their children after their late father and siblings, Sansa couldn't stop thinking about Loras, not Willas; and Jon wished Ygritte were alive so he could marry her instead of Val.

And Loras is a stand in for Jon the same way Ygritte is an stand in for Sansa.

. . .

"A king must have an heir."

Jeyne Westerling told Catelyn that Robb was going to name their firstborn after Ned???

Are you talking about this passage???

"Jeyne," she called after, "there's one more thing Robb needs from you, though he may not know it yet himself. A king must have an heir."

The girl smiled at that. "My mother says the same. She makes a posset for me, herbs and milk and ale, to help make me fertile. I drink it every morning. I told Robb I'm sure to give him twins. An Eddard and a Brandon. He liked that, I think. We . . . we try most every day, my lady. Sometimes twice or more." The girl blushed very prettily. "I'll be with child soon, I promise. I pray to our Mother Above, every night."

—A Storm of Swords - Catelyn III

Because it was Jeyne who told Catelyn that she (Jeyne) was sure to give Robb twins to be named Eddard and Brandon, and that she thought Robb liked her idea (Jeyne's idea).

We don't know if Jeyne Westerling was, at some point, pregnant or not.

With all the Tully super fertility references, Jeyne could have been pregnant, but, as you can read in the quote above, her mother Sybell Spicer was giving her an abortifacient all the time, and sadly, that's what happened to Lysa Tully in the past... That's why a guilty Hoster Tully repeats "Tansy" in his sickbed several times, since "Tansy" was an ingredient of the abortifacient that Lysa took all those years ago...

The Lannister not only plotted to kill the King in the North, but also to prevent that said king have an heir... Sybell Spicer and the abortifacient were part of the plot.

And if there was still the slightest chance that Jeyne was pregnant with Robb Stark's heir, the Lannister would not hesitate to kill the unborn child and the mother, if necessary.

Actually, I'm afraid that in the next Book Jeyne Westerling will die anyway...

Now, Robb also used the same phrase "A king must have an heir." while later talking with Catelyn about the North's Succession, and guess who were the ones actively mentioned during that conversation? Any thoughts?

The answering is, a "Lady Lannister" (lol) and a "bastard Snow". Let's see:

"I had hoped to leave Jeyne with child . . . we tried often enough, but I'm not certain . . ."

"It does not always happen the first time." Though it did with you. "Nor even the hundredth. You are very young."

"Young, and a king," he said. "A king must have an heir. If I should die in my next battle, the kingdom must not die with me. By law Sansa is next in line of succession, so Winterfell and the north would pass to her." His mouth tightened. "To her, and her lord husband. Tyrion Lannister. I cannot allow that. I will not allow that. That dwarf must never have the north."

"No," Catelyn agreed. "You must name another heir, until such time as Jeyne gives you a son." She considered a moment. "Your father's father had no siblings, but his father had a sister who married a younger son of Lord Raymar Royce, of the junior branch. They had three daughters, all of whom wed Vale lordlings. A Waynwood and a Corbray, for certain. The youngest . . . it might have been a Templeton, but . . ."

“Mother.” There was a sharpness in Robb’s tone. “You forget. My father had four sons.”

She had not forgotten; she had not wanted to look at it, yet there it was. “A Snow is not a Stark.”

“Jon’s more a Stark than some lordlings from the Vale who have never so much as set eyes on Winterfell.”

“Jon is a brother of the Night’s Watch, sworn to take no wife and hold no lands. Those who take the black serve for life.”

“So do the knights of the Kingsguard. That did not stop the Lannisters from stripping the white cloaks from Ser Barristan Selmy and Ser Boros Blount when they had no more use for them. If I send the Watch a hundred men in Jon’s place, I’ll wager they find some way to release him from his vows.”

He is set on this. Catelyn knew how stubborn her son could be. “A bastard cannot inherit.”

“Not unless he’s legitimized by a royal decree,” said Robb. “There is more precedent for that than for releasing a Sworn Brother from his oath.”

“Precedent,” she said bitterly. “Yes, Aegon the Fourth legitimized all his bastards on his deathbed. And how much pain, grief, war, and murder grew from that? I know you trust Jon. But can you trust his sons? Or their sons? The Blackfyre pretenders troubled the Targaryens for five generations, until Barristan the Bold slew the last of them on the Stepstones. If you make Jon legitimate, there is no way to turn him bastard again. Should he wed and breed, any sons you may have by Jeyne will never be safe.”

“Jon would never harm a son of mine.”

“No more than Theon Greyjoy would harm Bran or Rickon?”

Grey Wind leapt up atop King Tristifer’s crypt, his teeth bared. Robb’s own face was cold. “That is as cruel as it is unfair. Jon is no Theon.”

“So you pray. Have you considered your sisters? What of their rights? I agree that the north must not be permitted to pass to the Imp, but what of Arya? By law, she comes after Sansa … your own sister, trueborn …”

“… and dead. No one has seen or heard of Arya since they cut Father’s head off. Why do you lie to yourself? Arya’s gone, the same as Bran and Rickon, and they’ll kill Sansa too once the dwarf gets a child from her. Jon is the only brother that remains to me. Should I die without issue, I want him to succeed me as King in the North. I had hoped you would support my choice.”

“I cannot,” she said. “In all else, Robb. In everything. But not in this … this folly. Do not ask it.”

“I don’t have to. I’m the king.” Robb turned and walked off, Grey Wind bounding down from the tomb and loping after him.

—A Storm of Swords - Catelyn V

As you can see from the quote above, Robb and Catelyn were pushing to prevent Sansa or Jon from inheriting Winterfell and the North after Robb. For Robb, the problem was that Sansa was "Lady Lannister," and for Catelyn, the problem was that Jon was a bastard "Snow," and a brother of the Night's Watch.

Ironically, Robb ended up losing Winterfell and the North, and it will be precisely Sansa (the Lannister by marriage) and Jon (the bastard Snow) the ones retaking the ancestral seat and all the lands of House Stark, and I suspect they will do it together.

Indeed, Robb and Catelyn's conversation is also very telling because Robb said: "By law Sansa is next in line of succession, so Winterfell and the north would pass to her". But since Sansa was married to Tyrion Lannister, Robb had to name another heir, Jon.

Robb's reasoning is a contrast to Jon's reaction to the offer of getting Winterfell and the North. Stannis Baratheon used the same argument (Sansa's marriage to Tyrion Lannister) to convince Jon to accept his offer to become a legitimized Stark and Lord of Winterfell, Stannis even called Sansa “Lady Lannister”, but no matter what, Jon didn’t accept Stannis's offer.

And what was Jon's answer?

“By right Winterfell should go to my sister Sansa.”

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon I

Jon said, “Winterfell belongs to my sister Sansa.”

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon IV

Beautiful, isn't it?

And Jon and Sansa could also produce a new generation of Starks, honoring their late relatives by naming their children Eddard, Robb and Catelyn, the ones that are actually dead, because fortunately Arya, Bran and Rickon are still alive, even if Jon and Sansa believe they are all dead.

She pictured the two of them sitting together in a garden with puppies in their laps, or listening to a singer strum upon a lute while they floated down the Mander on a pleasure barge. If I give him sons, he may come to love me. She would name them Eddard and Brandon and Rickon, and raise them all to be as valiant as Ser Loras. And to hate Lannisters, too. In Sansa's dreams, her children looked just like the brothers she had lost. Sometimes there was even a girl who looked like Arya.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa II

I would need to steal her if I wanted her love, but she might give me children. I might someday hold a son of my own blood in my arms. A son was something Jon Snow had never dared dream of, since he decided to live his life on the Wall. I could name him Robb. Val would want to keep her sister's son, but we could foster him at Winterfell, and Gilly's boy as well. Sam would never need to tell his lie. We'd find a place for Gilly too, and Sam could come visit her once a year or so. Mance's son and Craster's would grow up brothers, as I once did with Robb.

—A Storm of Swords - Jon XII

Be still my beating heart!

. . .

So if you're wondering if the sad fate of Jeyne Westerling and Robb, who had a similar wish to Sansa and Jon's wishes, to name their children after their late father and siblings, could mean something negative for Jon and Sansa in the future. The answer is no.

#anon asks #jonsa

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