#We will all die around the same time this is literally negligible when we’re all in our 30s and 40s

[imx-n]

In this time I’m learning how to navigate pain. Being in a space of having to allow myself to be taken care of & taking care of self I learned how I felt I was deserving of love. I feel in my life I am to be so broken down that I forget that I could be genuinely loved. Yes we know that there’s ppl in the world who’s has phobia towards those in the community, but we also have to deal with a lot of jealousy. The jealousy of when people love us they actually can say they love us because we’re living in our truth and they know who we are. Literal walking expressions of authenticity embodiments of god, but my authenticity and my will to not conform to a world who tells me that in order to make it I have to sell myself. In which I fell victim to at one point, feeling like I had to conform. I have to deal with the pain that comes with the hardships of being trans, being black, being an empress and being beautiful. I have to deal with the pain and the suffering of choosing to be authentic. People love to hate and hate to love someone who can be themselves without identifying the projections of the environment around them. Everyday I have to deal with someone trying to break my spirit bc of their lack thereof….spirit. It’s not easy. To live without. To be starved. To be forced to live in poverty. To be humiliated in front of ppl on a daily basis and the most someone is willing to give me is sex. No love, no support, no genuine care, no respect. Being confident in an insecure world the world begins to put you down to humble you bc who tf do you think you are. Loosing toxic relationships and people all around you. And I think of the pain I have to deal with knowing all I’ve been through or all I continue to go through and the only thing ppl can say to me is I look beautiful which is great but physical beauty is limiting and it entraps you. I literally cannot tell you the last time I’ve been nurtured before my trip to pure sweat sauna bar but I can tell you when’s the last time someone came to me for sex. I can’t tell you the last time I’ve had a relationship where I had no betrayal or didn’t end up beefing with a bitch after I literally prayed for them and thanked god for them. So then I ask myself do I be alone or do I use this attention to my advantage? Who do I trust?

My heart has been hurting so heavy and to be honest not even just for myself. Just been hurting bc I know so many people who go through the same things I go through. Who don’t have the strength or capacity to see it through and I get on knees and cry out to god. I hold my heart and I hurt bc when will things change whose gonna fight for them and I cry bc god could I do it? Can I be the change that’s needed for our kids, for our marriages, family, peers, our community. Who’s gonna shut this shit down. The outwardly oppressive nature of people and their need to abuse their power and because they’re the ones in power you get scared to speak. We need more good apples in the bunch fuck the superficiality fuck this reality tv shit. We need more practitioners, more doctors, more politicians, better ppl in the homeless shelters, more creative opportunities for the natives. We need a fresh start. You convince yourself it’s not that bad and in turn instead of ppl rallying behind you to stand on business it’s so much bigger than me. I think of this young kid who went through what I did being abused for being gay and for being trans by those who was supposed to raise me and protect they didn’t. Instead they rally and laugh and the mess they create and so many ppl die at the negligences of other ppl. My mother’s death for example. She was so neglected, so afraid to allow herself to be vulnerable, taken care of just loved to the point she lost her life. It hurt to see the same ppl saying r.i.p. was the same ppl who watched her demise and they could’ve did something then go to sleep at night like not my problem. When she was here where were you to show her the love and support she needed while she was sick? Where was y’all after the funeral? Where was y’all after taking her stuff? And for me I’m no longer fighting for relationships that don’t want to be had. Especially ones that are superficial and I guess that’s why I’ve been hurting because the death of my mother really showed me how alone I really am and how much she had to fight. I literally feel her pain sometimes nd it took a while for me to get to this place of feeling like myself. Feeling like I don’t need these vices or need these people who do nothing but add to my suffering instead of relieving it. A lot of “adults” really should be ashamed of themselves to be honest and if you can look at yourself as an adult in the mirror and love yourself after abusing a child or watching a child suffer you are sick and consider getting some help. Especially the ones within my family. Y’all spend your lives hating and tearing down the lives(not all, but if this triggers you. You need to ask yourself…why?) of the younger generation because you’re still a little kid in need of healing. That pain of having to walk away from those I’ve known, those I once loved, those who I realized gave no fucks about me lingers in my heart and soul and I don’t know if that will ever leave me. But the more I get to walk this life in my authenticity the more I heal, the more I grow and the more love I’m loving giving to those who deserve it. Life is not easy for nobody, but the least we can do is make it easier for each other by showing one another that it is indeed safe to live within love. Safe to be yourself. Safe to love yourself and safe to love others.

The more I feel pain. The more it reminds me that although I’m an intergalactic ex terrestrial being im still a human being on this earth. I can cry, I can laugh, I can be angry, I can literally do stupid shit and it’s okay. The more I feel pain the more I feel alive, but I’m in a space of switching that narrative to the more I feel love the more I feel alive. My self love pumps the blood out of my heart to another and that’s the beauty of being here. I know now without pain there’s no bliss, just like there’s no breath without air or no oceans without water. They have to coexist, but we do not have to stay stuck in cycles that aren’t good for us. It’s okay to be…healthy and we’re learning that umm…healthy is cool. That’s the true abundance and anything that just is not working is just unhealthy and we don’t want that. We don’t want to continue to constantly hurt ourselves bc of the lack of love we feel which is a lack of self love. I love myself so much that if I never get married, never get that dream house, never get that luxurious lifestyle I’m manifesting for myself, if I never have a family of my own wouldn’t say I’ll be happy, but I’ll be okay. Bc the love of myself which is also a love/connection to my 1st husband which is god is enough and I have enough to give to those who need it. I hope you felt it and I hope you don’t feel bad for not giving it back or if you didn’t feel the same bc it was genuine and you deserved that. Never settle for less bc you’re beautiful and I hope you begin to see that and treat yourself as such. Male or female. You’re beautiful so act like it and I need to start acting like it myself. Y’all I be forgetting who tf I am sometimes and I get so much hate I forget about the genuine love I get that have me in tears and remind me to keep going. And I get that love just by being myself so be yourself.

So I made a vow to take better care of myself as well as taking responsibility for my own life. discipline. Is step one for me. I found this sauna place which may be my new sanctuary if they’ll allow and I recommend y’all go. It’s such a beautiful place owned by a beautiful woman(she’s so knowledgeable stay tuned for the video. It felt so nice to be taught and so nice to sweat out everything as well as immerse myself closer to spirit) ran by women and it just felt like home. These next six months I promise they’ll be seeing me more. Something I wish we did more is take care and uplift our healers fr. So guys support, uplift and show love to them bc they showing it to us by providing spaces like these as you should be grateful. Savannah is such a trauma filled space including for myself and it needs healing. Sometimes I feel I need to leave bc the ptsd of being in these streets and the things I seen, the lovely connections and ppl I lost, and the things we did just to survive. As I navigate that pain I dive further into my healing and further into a deeper understanding of what it means to love & love yourself. 🙏🏾

If you know me I love a good sweat. One of my secrets to staying snatched mentally, physically, spiritually and emotionally fr. Sometimes going to the gym is draining, but if you eat well, move your body a bit and sit in the sauna boy that weight & extra baggage will start falling off. Here’s some extra benefits as well for internal and external health.

1. Helps you relax

2. Improves heart health

3. Decrease chronic pain

4. Detoxification

5. Burns calories

6. Assists in workout recovery

7. Great for brain health

8. Induces better sleep

9.Weight management/loss

10. Boosts immune system & fights illness

11. Cleanses your skin

12. Respiratory system

13. Helps fight addiction providing recreational benefits

14. Improves flexibility

15. Great for prayer/meditation time.

I hope y’all enjoyed this message and very vulnerable post. Love y’all. I love myself. I love god. Thank you god and I pray you all can find that peace with god and yourself as I found in my short 25yrs of living and it’s only growing.

Cashapp: $222sun.

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And if you visit pure sweat sauna bar lemme know and let them know that Zeya sent you. Love yous.

[iamtheempress]

Lets Talk

She nursed a nice bruise on her face in the bathroom, one that bloomed from her cheek to the top of her brow, extending a green fingertip to her cheek to heal it slowly, hopefully bringing back some natural skin tone to her cheek again.

 A normal practice for treating her wounds all her life, all while keeping herself awake and conscious with an energy drink that was half empty and the ever present feeling of anticipation. The source of anticipation lingering on that phone beside her, a burner phone she bought at the beginning of the day.

Chiaki's eyes flickered to her burner phone right next to her, waiting for a reply from a face shed only met during a fight earlier that morning with her father. 

Heroes against Villains, that old fight that will seemingly never ever cease, she cant remember why the incident happened but she just knew that she and her father were first responders along with a handful of other heroes.

 She inspects the faded mark on her face and closes the door to the bathroom, quietly as to not wake her mother who had tried to quell her worried eldest daughter, Aoi had retired to bed about an hour ago… the media had picked up on the travesty of a fight that happened earlier that day. Causing a nasty uproar from civilians and the media alike.

It was everywhere, newspapers, radio stations, the internet and she can hear the newscaster announce it clearly. "Pro Hero Witch is in the Literal Hot Seat today, is she someone we need to keep an eye on? Her power was in full effect keeping a fifteen-story building from crushing her and her battered teammate, FullCharge. Who had beaten the negligent heroin enough to make her heal him, after she did this the building she was supporting fell upon her and 5 other civilian lives, after letting the villain come to know as Dabi escape-'' she turned off the tv sick and tired of hearing of how useless she’s been, the ensuing argument she had with her family left scars on her psyche she wouldn't bat an eyelash at, she couldn't care about her reputation when she let people die on her watch. 

Useless. Lazy. A joke. 

She let those 5 civilians die so callously, she didn't know them and yet she doesn't feel as bad, atleast not right now. Casualties are a norm for heros, right?

The icing on the cake was to hear the media call her that word negatively again. 

Witch… 

A name she used to take her power back from a horrible nickname in her childhood. Now once again weighing on her like chains to the floor.

 She walked to bed holding the phone and lamenting, falling to her bed with a resounding flop.. It's her fault.. she let Dabi go, and everyone saw it.

 She let everyone down and even had her phone blown up by her friends. She turned her attention to the group chat and took a peek from behind the iron curtain of guilt. Bakugou's name was the first to catch her eye.

Bakugou: Chili. Hey dumbass answer us! We have been trying to call you all day and you leave us on read. Answer us goddammit! We don't want to confront you ourselves and see what your deal is but we will if you don't answer us for the rest of the night.

Midoriya: We will give you another 30 and we're coming over, we promise we're not going to gang up on you, Chili…That wouldn't be right. 

Chiaki: How can i trust that, you all saw my situation, no one did a damn thing to help me, i get im also the healer but that includes people defending me in order to heal at a distance or else I HAVE THE TARGET on me. I cant face any of you. 

Bakugou, Izuku, Shouto and more are typing…

She wept rubbing her eyes with her sleeve and making her tear up. Out of everyone… she assumed someone would understand but they all seemed to give her the same look, it made her heart stop. Once again she's the bad guy in a situation she lost control over. With guilt in her heart, she recalled the last moments before he got away. 

Dabi got her father off of her. No hesitation, blasted him clean off of her with enough force it could have singed her head to toe, but he didn’t. She went to get up and saw her father immolated in blue flames as she turned to see the same man she was sent to apprehend was standing fixed about 10 feet from her, his eyes trained solid on her. She looks up at the buildinh started to grown from the integrity being lost from the fight, it began to collapse down on them until she suspended it above the both of them, mere feet from his head; they stared at one another like deer in headlights. A sinister smirk spread across his features before disappearing from her view, in the kick up of dirt and rubble, 

Chiaki couldn’t bring herself to apprehend him. 

Why..? Did he see the desperation in her eyes or the fact that she barely had a leg to stand on when her own father took her down a size, when he saw insubordination over saving herself and not her father who was completely fine? Or was there another ulterior motive to keeping her alive?

Upon trying to close her eyes, and hopefully forget about this whole day.  

The burner phone buzzed to life. 

The screen could have been the brightest thing in the room, a beacon in the night beckoning her. Distant thunder rumbled to indicate the dire decision she's made, as well as a storm that was approaching.

 Her heart stopped, she lifted the phone slightly and slid her thumb over the screen. To see the text message from an unavailable number. 

“How is that eye feeling, Witch?” 

The text read, her fingers flew across the keyboard. 

“It’s been better, I fixed it up. Is this really Dabi?” upon sending the message the text came up as read. Is she really thinking of doing this… he messaged her back quickly. “Maybe I am, I have seen the news today and that shot of you and I standing before the building collapsed on us was cinematic so I have to give you props for that. I’m guessing the reason you wanted to speak to me was not make pleasantries and talk about our days.” 

“You want to join the League.” 

There it is. The question that lain heavily upon her mind. Shed never considered it as much as she has recently. The ridicule of her graduating class, her power seen as something not all heroes should use for good. She proved time and time again how she is not something to worry about.. But here she was.. Being abused and taken advantage of by the people she cared for. 

“Yes. I do.” She sent it with no hesitation and sat up in her bed looking down upon the phone, he made quick work of messaging her back, again. 

“We havent recruited anyone worth our time in a while. From what I saw recently as well as today. We were considering reaching out to you..but this works much better. Meet tonight?” Her golden eyes widened and her mouth popped open out of sheer shock. “Around what time? Ill be there” She stands up, with a loud crack of lightning the rain poured outside, she cursed and saw a location pop up on her phone.

An old and run down apartment complex outside of city limits. “Now. Get going. Text me when you're close.” Chiaki sprung out of bed without a second thought. Redressing herself in simple attire, something to not be seen on the streets so easily especially at night. Black leggings, worn in combat boots her mother gave her, a large black hoodie and that burner phone.

 While tying her hair up in a bun she saw her phone, the one with her best friends messaging her… and Midoriya’s name front and center..

Izuku: “Hey, cmon, Chili. We know you’re there.. We saw what happened and we want to know if your alright…We can see you reading our messages”

Izuku: What happened with your dad wasn't right but something doesn't add up from that fight, Chili.”

Bakugou: “It makes just as little sense to me too dumbass! Why did he spare you and go for FullCharge.”

Bakugou: “You better not have done something youll regret dumbass we cant lose you!”

Kiri: “I already have Shouto were on our way to talk to you, Spooky, were not mad..”

Her heart stopped in her throat as she started typing to them. She could see them all stop typing in unison. 

“Theres nothing to talk about. You all have made up your mind about me..i can see it. I sound like im just a problem to all of you. Consider me gone.” Chiaki tossed her old phone to the bed and scrawled a note. 

“I loved you all.. I'm sorry I'm not who you wanted me to be.”

With one message her phone began to blow up. Without looking back, she was gone. Hopping from her window to the road below with a splash into a puddle and starting her jog, leaving the only home she's known her whole damn life, as well as leaving her hero life behind her.

About a solid 30 minutes later she noticed she saw the buildings become more and more dilapidated marked with graffiti as sirens shrieked down streets and seedy characters crept behind alleyways, the city limits were within a mile away, and so was the old apartment building. 

Impatient and eager to meet him face to face, she messaged him.. "About a block or two away." she pulled her hood up as she exited a mini markets awning that was closed, rain started to shower down upon her, her light hair hidden beneath the oversized hood, the old marquis sign coming into sight. 

The phone vibrated in her pocket, Chiaki pulled it out and the words shone bright across her face. “You better not be some spy.. I won’t be too happy. So in your best interest, i'd be 100% transparent with me.”  She texts back quickly. “I am an open book and got little to hide.”

The text was read and the old marquis was above her, “No turning back now… the guys will be looking for me in no time.” She said to herself and entered the lobby of the closed apartment building, through the heavy wooden doors. It looked like it used to be grand but now it was so in disrepair that the wallpaper was torn back from walls and holes were created from years of neglect. 

Chiaki pulled her hood back and looked around, listening to the silence of the apartment, she took a breath and emanated a glow from her hands, her fingers and thumb lit up like bright green glow sticks.

From behind a darkened figure glided his scarred palm across the tattered wall approaching her slowly, he speaks up, cutting the silence and startling her. "Ah..There you are, you certainly didn't waste your time, Witch" she gasped and whipped around to see him, Dabi. She let out a nervous laugh and took a step forward, if she were not in this situation she wouldn't hesitate to take him down but this instance she felt on equal ground to him so she felt no threat.

 "I don’t dodge opportunities, especially ones like this, I would have contacted someone sooner but I wanted a reason to do this.. And you seemed like someone I wanted to contact first hand." Dabi approaches her until he is within mere feet of Chiaki, his feet shuffling with each stride, he's easily taller than her by more than a couple inches, being 5”2’ is sometimes a hindrance.

He blows air out of his nose with a laugh. “You were in luck then.. I had my eye on you for a while and finding intel for you was far more complicated than we expected. Chiaki Nakamura is it?”  one hand stuffed into his pants pocket and the other out to gesture towards her, his scarred hand fanned out, talking with his hands was natural for him to do it seems. His cyan blue eyes raking down her front and back to her eyes. Unblinking and just as dark and spellbinding as before, all the while being intensely overwhelming in every aspect physical. Chiaki’s heart bounced in her chest to her throat. 

His head lulls to the side.

 "Thats my name..” The young pro speaks softly, Dabi noticed the apprehension in her voice,"Oh are you nervous little Witch..?"  he didn't need her scurrying off or anything so he took to sauntering slowly around her, sizing her up like a hungry shark. She didn’t speak but caught his eyes through his black hair that curtained his eyes. “Just a bit but if i were any more scared i wouldn’t be here..” He looked upon her glowing green hands, it made her mildly conscious of the fact that they were shaking.

“Then my reputation precedes me even to fresh faces like you.” He says with a hoarse chuckle, he backs up with his arms spread open, she catches a glimpse of his long scarred arms, they flopped back down to his sides, She laughs gently in turn, her eyes fixed on his face, being this close she could see the gold sheen to the staples on his mouth and under his eyes. 

“If that nervous behavior is because you’re scared and having second thoughts about this.. And want to go back to playing around as a hero, i won't hesitate to fry you where you stand, but i'm hoping you're using that common sense of yours so i don't have to.” She listens intently, unwavering and dimming her hands back down, as to not allow her quirk to radiate outside the building.. Dabi’s mouth doesn’t even move beyond a normal straight line but his eyes say everything: He doesn’t see her as a stranger.. Despite this being their first time meeting amicably.

 “rest assured i won’t hurt you, from what I have seen already we need someone with a quirk like yours around, but when it comes to me bringing you back to the bar.. They won’t allow you in unless I check you for a wire, lift your arms.” He instructs and she lifts her arms just enough for him.

 His hands starting to traverse her arms and waist make her face swell with heat, a much more embarrassing position to be in… He was thorough and rough with the patdown, his face remained the same unchanging and stoic, her eyes trained on his face and the rough scars that covered the bottom portion of his face to the part directly under his tear ducts. Besides that he doesn't look bad.. The scars only add that intense look to him, the reason why people were scared of his looks. 

“I wanted to know something..” She caught his attention with a low hum, his brow raising and his lips curling upward. “What was the deal with you getting my father off of me..why didnt you attack me.” His hands finished patting down her body and he tuts her pulling the burner phone from her pocket.

 “You see.. That moment was televised and the moments leading up were not, and if they were, they didn't televise your abuse period or the reason behind it. It was pretty tragic, I heard your father's harsh words.. even more brutal pounding id say, he blocked all of your defences, your little friends didn't come for your rescue, they stood around." She stood stock still listening to him,

"Our Pro Hero lil Witch being ‘saved’ by me when i had enough of seeing someone who is more useful then her partners let on, being beaten to a pulp, and then when things seemed to be working in your favor and the fabled heroes would have gotten me, you in turn...stopped an entire highrise building from squishing me to death.” He leans forward and drops his voice an octave, dipping into a form of seductive and joking. 

“Kinda humiliating isn’t it? Being saved by a well known villain isn't really what the public wants to see.." he shrugs and steps back looks down at his palm, his long fingers moving around trying to catch her attention like he could light a flame at any moment,  with the other hand in his pocket. "I saw someone who needed help in more ways than one.” Her eyes widened as he stuffed the phone into his pocket “I saw someone who I had my eye on for a while being beaten for not doing something as useful as aiding her teammate… and for her own safety right?” He questions as he leans back against the wall adjacent to her.

 “Yeah.. that's right.. How do you know all that? I mean like, not alot of people know that about my quirk, i cant heal at a distance and provide backup unless i have backup...” He snaps his fingers and points at her. “Exactly my point. Your dear old dad didn't take his much more volatile daughter into account and only used you as a support to him, fueling his ego and making you look bad to the rest of the world.” his demeanor was so foreign to her, he spoke so eloquently and with conviction, a sadistic and perverse form of understanding that drew her in like a super magnet.

 She stood blanched, thunderstruck by how he's describing the situation to her, It's like he's in her head reading every emotion as plain on her face. “Yes. He never took me seriously… as a hero.. No one really ever did.” Dabi's eyes softened as their eyes remained locked in a stare of...mutual understanding on his part… she knew little of his past or who he was, but the weight of not being good enough or a lost cause caused his fists to clench.. he not dare ask anything personal yet.. he has a job to do and earn her trust and read her and her situation like a book. Foreshadowing the type of person she was made to be over years of unfair treatment and situations outside of their control.

 “Getting closer.. Go on, Witch.” She swallowed air and kept spilling her guts..  “I use my quirk to even help anyone or… do something for the good of others and its never highlighted in the slightest, no job well done or whatever. No sort of fanfare or recognition, i come home and.. get judged and told I'm not as good as… as him, from him.” SHe clasps her hands together and opens them up again, Dabi’s eyes watching the little light show from her fingertips and then fade away again. The more his eyes looked to her hands the more he wanted to see the beautiful little auras again, it was then Dabi realized her quirk is easy to be triggered, or atleast constantly active. “But when… i do one thing thats out of character for a… normal pro hero… all eyes are on you..and I was treated like a...pariah” 

Dabi nods his head and his smooth voice lulled her ears “Understand now? They only want you when you're useful to them, you're treated as backup, but in the right hands you could be so much more..” Her head hung low, like she just discovered it, that despite her power and the fact shes equally as dangerous maybe even more so she's treated as lesser than everyone else. 

Dabi mentally kicked himself, making such a pretty face sulk and look dour, he couldn't just stand there and allow her to beat herself up over how others treat her. Dabi took a step forward to her and found himself raising his hand to her chin and made her look right up at him, her chin betwixt the pads of his forefinger and thumb. “Come on now… don't be so down on yourself, they might see you as only an asset and a tool to use and expand upon themselves, as nothing more then a battery that never quits, but with us, you can reach a version of yourself you have never seen before.. And we can help you with that. We will make sure you surpass your expectations'' She caught herself staring. 

Eyes glazed over in tears that threatened to fall, and with a blink they were gone. “Excuse my ignorance but… you're serious like you can do that?” She asked with trepidation and abit of excitement that she had to cage off to not seem too eager. 

“It's not a promise, Nakamura. Its a fact that is going to be a reality. Now..” He turned on his heel and gave them some distance in the lobby, he was almost shrouded in darkness. “Give me a demonstration on what you can do.” He instructs. 

Chiaki blinks and becomes blanched. A demonstration. In here? She clasps her hands together and pulls them apart that green glow emanating from her hands to her elbows, pretty gold and green eyes enveloped in pure green with irises, her hands splayed out fingers slowly dancing and expanding outward, like licks of fire.

 “Brace yourself.” She curled in her fingers to drain the energy from surrounding lights and power, making the environment for everyone else but her heavy and sluggish. Dabi had a bead of sweat roll down his face and a headache grow slowly. “And just as it was pulled away I can give it back on my own terms.” She points a manicured finger at Dabi. The headache vanishes without a trace and his energy restored , almost knocking him on his ass from the dizzying feeling of having the wind knocked into you.

 The lights and the power entirely shut down for a full block and the bulbs bust outside. She holds a ball of concentrated energy in her palm and absorbs it into her skin, a content smile spreading across her delicate features and bowing forward and standing back up straight.

 “Oh yeah, they're going to thank me for insisting you be our new recruit... Warn me before you use your quirk on me again, will you?” She snorts and cocks a brow up at him. “So.. do it again later and knock you on your ass?” Chiaki giggled, Dabi quizzically tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, as if he's breaking down her words in his head, he flipped his black hair from his face as chuckles amused.

 “I knew I liked you for a reason, sarcastic little thing. ” she blushes and covers her mouth embarrassed. “I think it would be smart if we left.. I don't know if my friends are out looking for me or not..and honestly i would rather not face them head on yet.. And i don't want you to be hurt.” Chiaki looks back at him and blushes not realizing how worried she was for his safety, "What already thinking of me? Don't get so soft on me now, Nakamura.." Dabi chuckles and his hands return to his pockets and with a half turn he nods his head in the opposite direction of her, signalling her to follow him towards the exit of the building, he stops before the door. 

"Wait..you mean those UA kids..? trust me, Nakamura.. they arent your friends.. i don't need to know what you went through today after our little scene, you know as well as i that they're already plotting against you from what you did.." his words rang true along with his velveteen voice, the tall and slender Villain seemed to know more than he let on.

Chiaki became quiet and more confident with her decision. She made this choice, and she really didn't regret a damn thing. "And that very thing you have done today, Chiaki.." he slammed his hand into the wall, anchored his hand beside her head, making her damn near jump out of her skin. Lightning cracked outside illuminating the scars that adorned his features.

  The trench coat splaying open and just a bit of his shirt collar dipping down to reveal the purple scar stretches to his chest, gold tint staples fixed secure into what skin he had left to him that remained unscarred.

 Her eyes wandered from his chest back to his brilliant blue eyes. "Made me realize that you were worth contacting. Trust me, Nakamura.. we will bring out the best in you, UA would have easily tainted your view on the world and how ‘justice’ is delivered; but it seems like you know the world for what it really is." he gave her cheek a pat and a pinch, his gaze remained on her and a sickly grin twisted on his features when he notices her eyes wandering to the purple skin and his pronounced collar dipping further down his chest.. His hand engulfed her chin, capturing it and making her look him in the eyes. 

"Yknow, staring at people in the League will getcha in trouble or hurt, Not me though.. just don't get too used to it, anyone who stares  that long at me i consider mice…but honestly i don't see you scurrying off anytime soon." He backs off when she blushes brighter and gives him a shove. 

"Ah quit! Its kinda hard to not stare if you haven't noticed, Dabi." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and started texting someone facing the heavy door, when he received a reply he put it back into his pocket, and sighed opening the heavy metal door with a creak, rain poured down into the street as he spoke up so she could hear him. "its what we ugly folk are used to i'm afraid." Chiaki merely scoffs and pulls back up the hood and opened her palm flat and above his and her head together she created a translucent green umbrella like barrier protecting them from the downpour,  "Ugly is abit of a stretch, Dabi..." she mutters and follows him into the alley where the rain continued ro shower down bouncing off the barrier, a singular street lamp illuminating the barren street leaving the only city she had ever known, Dabi replayed that phrase in his head and he momentarily closed his eyes.

 Its been years since he got compliments.. it was strange but not unwelcome. "Ohhhh little mouse, your gonna get along very well with me.. stick by my side and everyone will like you… eventually.. Your about to meet one of them anyway." As he said this casually as the street became a black and purple haze, a portal opened up and swirled as a literal exit from the city.. to wherever the hell she was going next. 

Chiaki gasped and took an apprehensive step forward.

 "Scared?" Dabi asked, with a little smirk on his lips. "Just a bit…" Dabi extended his hand for her, inviting her with him "Cmon. Trust me. Trust a burnt man with nothing to lose." He chides playfully. Chiaki accepts his invitation, his hand warm and textured with the staples.. Dabis heart skipped a beat at the contact.

 Soft and small hands engulfed by his own as he guided her through the portal, stunning blue eyes never deviating from her gold and green ones.. like they were captivated by one another.. before she knew it, she was in a completely different location. She blinked and looked around, thunderstruck almost by the environment.

A bar that reeked of booze and smoke of different varieties. "Welcome home, for now." He says in a flat tone, she pulled off her hood and looked around.

 Dabi still had his back to her and looked at his palm for a moment that felt like an eternity, the ghost of her hand remaining in his own, strange emotions bubbled up from nowhere, he shoved them back down and spoke up. 

"Everyone seems to be out by now, usually the bar is never empty. The person who summoned that portal is here...Kurogiri, which means our leader Shigaraki is here. He’ll meet you at some point..when he's not on his damn video games." he nudged her shoulder with his elbow and shook his wet hair out. Turning to look down at her, "Nice place...you guys bounce from place to place often?" She asks in what felt like a shy whisper, the resounding echo from the hall made her feel like she was shouting. 

"Haven't in a while.. hoping we won't have too again. Wont say where because it doesn't matter. Anyway, wanna come up to my room? There's an old couch up there you can crash on. Unless you want my bed, heh.. Wouldn't mind you in bed with me.” He breathily chuckles and pinches her chin starting to lead the way, “Don't get any ideas! I'm just tired.. I haven't had any sleep and its like.. Almost 2:30 in the morning.” She yawned and dragged her feet behind him.

Chiaki follows him up the stairs and down the long corridor to the last door on the left, he opened it to find a bedroom with a king sized mattress pushed to the wall and the windows covered in blackout curtains, an old couch directly under it and  a flat screen across the room as well as his own computer and cans of empty energy drinks by it, as well as an ashtray that looked like it was used normally. 

“This room is mine, go ‘head.” He invites her in, noting the tired look on her face, he found it almost innocent if it weren't for the remnants of blush still ghosted on the apples of her cheeks.

Dabi had booted the door closed behind him as she kicked off her boots, he spoke up again, watching her movements, as they seemed to have gotten lazier. “Not much of an interior decorator but it works for me, sprucing the room up would be too much effort.” 

Making himself comfortable he sheds the trench coat and shuffles through a cabinet in the desk where his computer is located,”I'm getting pretty tired and by the looks of it you are too, so im afraid im gonna have to restrain you. Cmere.” He says, pulling out a pair of handcuffs that catches Chiaki’s attention, her brow instantly rising in confusion and a hint of worry. Dabis eyes flicker up to her when she whips around at the chain jingling as he approaches her, twirling the cuffs around his finger 

 “W-wait why do you need to restrain me?” She asks a little wary, “Its so you dont pull anything while I'm sleeping… can't be too careful, little mouse.” He states clasping the cuffs around her wrists in the front, they clicked almost to the point where he could get two fingers under them. Chiaki looked at him with big innocent eyes and then down to the cuffs on her wrists. “Tsk..you do this to all the new recruits or am i just that special.” He chuckles and turns his back to her. “You’re a first, to both be cuffed and able to sleep in my bed. Consider yourself ‘special’”

She looks back up to find Dabi stripping his white shirt off and tossing it to the couch, a blush forming on her face and a pang in her heart as she looks at him closely, hes much better looking up close… fit and lean, along with the added look of his scars that dressed his torso into his pants only made him 2 times more appealing and more her type. “Holy shit..” She says out loud with her jaw slacked abit. “Checking me out, little mouse? Remember what I said about staring.” He chuckled and laid back in bed exhausted, pulling the sheets up her body comfortably. “Sorry was just admiring the view, Dabi.” She teased rolling her eyes and settling into bed, Dabi’s eyes widened briefly and felt that sweet warm feeling creeping up his chest again, this time he let it simmer there.

“im going to sleep.. Too tired to think, that energy drink i had acouple hours ago finally wore off." Chiaki yawned and stretched, facing away from him to ease the situation, that situation being she wanted to face him and find comfort from him. 

A sort of comfort she longed for for years, acceptance and safety.. Funny she found safety with a villain.. With villains alike. This caused her to giggle to herself, he raises a brow and looked over to her with his arms tucked behind his head 

Instead as Dabi turned off the light and the distant thunder rolled she spoke up “Dabi..” “Hm?” She turned back over and some light from the opened part of the black out curtains illuminated her eyes, Dabi once again caught himself peering into them wistfully finding himself looking her over. 

 A genuine glow in her eye, appreciation and a connection the two have never felt before, “Thank you, for bringing me in.. you wont regret it,” She brings her bound hands up to pull the pillow further up under her head, and licked her lips, swallowing her fear and letting a wall down, even just alittle bit to him. Dabi mused and observed her closely, finally seeing the opposite end of what its like to have someone in need go to him of all people. “i haven't felt anything beyond disappointment for a long long time, so to say i feel comfortable with someone i was fighting not even a day ago says anything, i hope you understand and i'm not stepping over any boundaries.” He grinned, and responded with an amused chuckle. “Getting soft on me again, better not make that a habit with anyone else here, I just might get jealous.” Dabi grazed his finger against her cheek, she leaned against his hand and smiled angelically.

“I'm starting to like that fire in your eye. ” He ghosts his knuckles down her cheek as her eyes closed slowly, blinking exausted as the cold air kicked on from the ac unit above them, she shivered and threw all caution to the wind, Dabi stiffened as she moved closer to his end of the bed, she ducked her head abit beneath the blanket to snuggle against his warm chest, his heart hammered with nerves he still couldnt place a name too, the same hand that stroked her cheek rested on her shoulder, his thumb rubbing slow circles into the sweatshirts fabric. 

Comforting and confusing thoughts swirled through the villains mind as he soon came to realize he remained awake for all but another 20 minutes, the soft rise and fall of her chest and side indicated she had long fallen asleep in his arms. 

Dabi rested his chin against her head and attempted to find the sleep he had long since forgotten in his past life. Acceptance and comfort from someone. 

He sighed and whispered in a husky tone of voice.

“Glad we had that talk, Little Mouse…”

XXX~

Hey yall its my first MHA fic. You might see more of her and Dabi in the future cuz honestly this was fun!

[komahinasecretexchange]

Title: The Sun Sets

Author: @magioftheseas

For: @bidoofgodofdestruction

Pairings/Characters: KomaHina (other characters are just mentioned but you get some dr1 kids + Matsuda)

Rating/Warnings: T+ (violence, gore, murder, despair)

Prompt: “AU where Hajime didn’t become Kamukura, but he’s still ultimate despair, and Nagito and him spend time together”

Author’s notes: I love the idea of Despair!Hinata so much so I got really excited. What a rich fountain of potential! This is how it turned out. As much as I really wanted to dig in, I didn’t want to go too far with such a dark prompt, so it’s…a respectable 3.25K word length. There’s references to a certain song throughout because I’m sorry. (It’s from the Tangled animated series.)

He wasn’t a bad person. It wasn’t his fault. Everything he did—they deserved.

All he wanted was to stand proud. All he wanted was to be important. He had tried everything, he even studied his ass off and what did that get him?

It wasn’t his fault. He’s the villain, he’s sunk down to the lowest he can go, but it’s fine. This is just what happens when people get treated the way he did.

This fucker didn’t even get a chance to beg for mercy before Hinata brought down the bat. Again. Again. Again. It’s what they got for spitting on him, and it was what they deserved.

Hinata was panting, and the helmet was getting uncomfortable. Dropping the bat, it clattered against the ground, smearing the broken concrete with the same red as the sky above. Shaking, Hinata hoisted off the unwieldy Monokuma head off his own, and he was seized with the impulse to fling that to the ground too and stomp it into bits.

He gets halfway there, but is stopped by a lilting giggle.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You’ll just hurt your foot.”

It’s true that the helmet is barely scratched. Hinata still kicks it, and it goes rolling until it smacks into the wall, right next to the fresh corpse. He doesn’t turn. He just waits until slim arms wrap about his waist and a head of fluffy white hair settles on his shoulder. A cold chain presses into his back.

“If you want to break it, you should use a metal pipe.” Komaeda Nagito giggles. “We can find another one. It’s no big deal.”

Hinata inhaled sharply.

“Is there even a point to keep wearing this stupid thing?”

“I don’t know.” Komaeda hummed. “Do you want to keep wearing it?”

He pushes Komaeda away so that he can pick up the helmet. He brushes off the dust, but doesn’t put it on, instead carrying it limply. He does look at the corpse once more, at the dark uniform that reminds him of when he had been a disposable reserve.

Well. He was still disposable even if he wasn’t a reserve anymore.

“Come on, Hinata-kun,” Komaeda cajoles cheerfully. “Let’s leave this body for the crows and go someplace nicer.”

“Guess there’s no reason not to,” Hinata muttered, pausing when Komaeda knelt down to pick up his bat. He gives an experimental swing at the air, and beams at him. Hinata’s lips simply pull into a straight line. “Let’s go, Komaeda.”

Komaeda frowned at him.

“You know I don’t answer to that anymore.”

“Komaeda Nagito,” he insisted. “We’re either going or we’re not.”

Komaeda sighed.

“I swear… I definitely spoil you way too much, Hinata-kun.”

–

It had been Enoshima Junko who opened his eyes, but the reason why he was there was because of Komaeda Nagito.

A so-called Ultimate Luck, Hinata had heard of him here and there. He was infamous even among the reserves for his creepy and condescending attitude. Komaeda would’ve been torn to literal pieces by his class if they ever got the chance, Hinata was sure of that.

As for his own feelings… They’re complicated.

Komaeda had found him among the corpses of the rest of the reserve course. Komaeda had stared down at him and wondered aloud, “Good luck? Or bad luck?”

He had knelt down, all wide-eyed curiosity.

“Hey. Can you hear me?”

Hinata had nothing else at the time. He had, in fact, been prepared to die with everyone else. But he hadn’t. Even a deity wouldn’t know why he had taken Komaeda’s hand that day. Especially when even Enoshima Junko looked disappointed he was still alive.

Komaeda is…not his only friend, per say, but probably the one he’s most used to associating with of Ultimate Despair. His madness is less overwhelming, more underlying, in the twisted edges of serene smiles and the small catches of breath between laughter. In some ways, he’s easiest to deal with.

That doesn’t mean Hinata can let his guard down. Even when lead to an open space, with dead leaves crunching under their feet and not a speck of other life in sight. This place used to be a park, going by the long rusted and crumbled heap that used to be a bench.

“Did you want to talk?”

“I just happened to stumble across you, that’s all,” Komaeda says, poking his cheek. “Are you doing okay? You’re getting a bit reckless.”

“What does that matter?”

“Hmm.” Komaeda pursed his lips. “Is this about Ikusaba-san? Aha, it’s pretty pitiful, right? Ikusaba-san really thought that hateful girl was someone she could trust. Someone she knew better than anyone else. And yet, she was so surprised when she was discarded without a second thought! Ehehe.” Komaeda clapped. “Such despair! What a fitting end to her miserable existence!”

“Matsuda had been the same way,” Hinata muttered. “Gave everything to her only to be thrown away like trash. Maybe the rest of the reserve course had the right idea.”

It’s only a matter of time before I get stomped to pieces, too.

“It wouldn’t be despairing if you died right now after all that’s happened,” Komaeda said. “Just disappointing. So, you should stay alive, Hinata-kun. Alright?”

“Fine.” It’s a half-hearted grunt of a reply, but Hinata had been facetious before. With how much spite he had, to die now would be nothing more than a shame. “It’s not about Ikusaba. I didn’t know her; why would I care about what happened to her?”

“Because under Hinata-kun’s brusque exterior lies a soft heart of gold!” Komaeda exclaimed, hands up and open.

Hinata stared at him. At the red of the sky. At the dead trees. Once again at Komaeda’s plastic smiling face.

“It’s a joke,” he chirped, that smile cracking a little before expanding. His gaze flickers between Hinata’s unimpressed gaze and the Monokuma helmet in his hands. “But you have been acting up lately. I can’t help but worry.”

An Ultimate is worried about me.

He wonders how his idiot past self would’ve felt about that. When it had been Enoshima feigning concern, she made him feel important. Significant. Valued in how tired, angry, and aggravated he was with everything. It had all been a farce, of course. Enoshima didn’t give a shit about him.

But, Komaeda was sincere to a fault. He had no need to trick him. He didn’t even need Hinata around.

Well. There was one reason Komaeda might want him around.

“Are you lonely, Komaeda?” Despite the words, Hinata’s aware of how dull his tone is. It almost sounded bored, and he can’t say what his actual feelings on the matter are. If he feels anything at all. “Do you want me to stay the night?”

Komaeda sighed at him, unimpressed.

“You’re so annoyingly defiant. Haven’t figured out your place at all.”

“I don’t have one,” Hinata reminded him coldly. “My use as a reserve dried up the second Hope’s Peak fell to despair. And any use I had as a despair was negligible to begin with. You just keep me around because you’re lonely.”

“I don’t keep you,” Komaeda huffed, playing with the chain around his own neck. “You’re not a dog, Hinata-kun.”

I’ve been told differently in the past.

“You didn’t answer my question, Komaeda.”

Komaeda turned away, nose upturned.

“And I don’t plan on answering at all.”

“Alright.” Hinata didn’t miss a beat. “I’ll stay with you, then.”

Komaeda stiffens. Red touches his cheeks, but it’s not the red of despair. The way Komaeda trembles, however, may be akin to it.

Hinata just takes his hand. Squeezes. It could even be considered a romantic gesture, but to suggest Hinata’s capable of such a thing anymore is laughable. He’s barely human at this point, worn down to nothing more than impulses and irritability. Little more than an animal, really.

Even animals seek companionship. That doesn’t necessarily mean they feel love towards that companion.

–

The two of them are huddled together for the first class trial. Komaeda watches avidly as Naegi Makoto struggles to defend himself, as Kirigiri Kyouko speaks up with her findings, as Maizono Sayaka’s plans are brought to light. Hinata does stare at Naegi’s face when he finds out, taking in the betrayal and disbelief.

“It’s his own fault for trusting so easily in this situation,” he found himself saying. “He’s just asking to be used and abused.”

“It’s still such a shame about Maizono-san,” Komaeda said. “Such a bright presence. She could’ve turned out so much better.”

“They were all tricked so easily by Enoshima in the first place,” Hinata muttered. “Even I knew she wasn’t a good person from our interactions. These idiots happily locked themselves with a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”

Komaeda elbows him.

“You shouldn’t be so dismissive towards your underclassmen.”

Hinata gives him a look but says nothing more. He just watches. Watches as their so-called underclassmen ‘solve’ the murder, watches as they sentence Kuwata Leon to death.

Hinata remembers that Souda had worked on every machination to be used for execution. He had been especially proud of Kuwata’s because, apparently, the two of them had been friends at one point. Hinata wasn’t surprised from watching Kuwata. Him and Souda had a lot in common.

And what did that get him?

“How unpleasant,” Komaeda sighed. “Kuwata-kun really was unfortunate.”

Komaeda almost sounds distant, and when Hinata watches him, he notes a flicker of something. Darker, curious, intent—a malicious flicker that rose to attention whenever that Naegi’s face was on screen.

“I really thought Naegi-kun would die first,” Komaeda says then, voice low. “But—I guess his own luck is not to be trifled with.”

No, Hinata thought. Maizono Sayaka just couldn’t bring herself to kill him after all the support he showed her. She settled for framing him instead.

Both lucky and unlucky, he supposed, and decided he didn’t want to think further on the matter. It didn’t matter. It didn’t. Enoshima was just going to kill all of them anyway once she made her point, and then… And then…

I guess the Future Foundation will finally crumble with them.

–

“It makes you angry, doesn’t it?”

“It drives you crazy, doesn’t it?”

“Aren’t you tired of being looked down upon? Stepped on? Being tossed aside like dirt?”

“I feel bad for you! So! I’ll let you destroy the world with me!”

He had suspected from the start that Enoshima Junko wasn’t a good person. She was grating and obnoxious, always in your face and shrill when she got annoyed. But the funny thing about being desperate is that you find yourself seeking validation even from people who get under your skin. People who drive you mad—encouraging more and more madness.

He wouldn’t be surprised if it was the same for Komaeda. If she had driven him the same way. Komaeda had claimed to hate her, passionately at that, but he shared the same fixation as everyone else.

She was too compelling to have anything but that effect. Something like that.

Although, really, Hinata knows he was just looking for excuses. He had been miserable and angry from the start, and she fueled the fire. Even if she hadn’t been there, he still…

…I’d still be trying to destroy myself.

Komaeda is sleeping comfortably on his chest. Komaeda often had nightmares and just the presence of another person was enough to keep him soothed. It’s pitiful. Seriously. Komaeda reminds him of himself and it really pisses him off.

And yet, even if he’d strangle his old self in a heartbeat, he can’t lay a hand on Komaeda. He’d have an easier time swinging a bat at Enoshima’s head. It was bizarre. It was uncomfortable. It had nothing to do with compassion or sympathy. It sure as shit had nothing to do with gratitude or obligation.

He just—doesn’t feel that way towards Komaeda specifically. He hates himself more than words can begin to convey. But he doesn’t hate Komaeda. His feelings towards Komaeda are complicated. Indifference. Apathy. Passivity. Nothing. But also…a pull. Like magnets drawn together.

Animals seeking company based purely on instinct.

Komaeda murmurs a string of nonsense, rubbing his face unconsciously into Hinata’s sternum. He smears drool. It’s disgusting, except Hinata doesn’t really care. It’s not any better or worse than being covered in someone’s blood, after all.

Tomorrow, there’ll be a new broadcast of their once underclassmen. That Naegi who Komaeda watched so intently has smartened up a little, given that he’s making some intelligent allies. Even then—Enoshima had outsmarted all of them. It’s still only a matter of time. Only a matter of time.

–

And then. That time never came.

–

“Hinata-kun? Can you hear me? Are you alright? Are you still moody? Aha. Well, it’s not like I don’t understand.”

Komaeda laughs, settling beside him like any friend would.

“Who would’ve thought? The one who took down that hateful girl was someone so, so—so normal. So unassuming. An Ultimate Lucky who wasn’t even that lucky.” Komaeda nudges him like he should be in on the joke this world has become. “Isn’t that underwhelming? Isn’t that depressing? I hated her more than anything and I never even… Naegi-kun didn’t even hate her, Hinata-kun. He still wanted her to live. He didn’t even hate her.”

“What a joke,” Hinata muttered darkly. “A total fucking nobody like that…? Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Komaeda sighed, head tilted back. “I was taken by total surprise.”

You watched him intently, though. You knew that kid. You must have felt towards him some kinda way—

And that just made Hinata angrier.

“Let’s go back to Hope’s Peak,” Komaeda chirped. “Let’s see if we can catch them.”

Let’s see if we can kill them.

“I suppose we should at least set up a proper funeral for that hateful girl and for Ikusaba-san as well,” Komaeda went on, eyes twinkling in the shadows. “Don’t you think so, too?”

Hinata doesn’t answer. Truth be told, he can’t begin to care about that. Not when he’s still fuming, still gritting his teeth, still grinding the molars to dust.

“You’ll give yourself a headache,” Komaeda scolds lightly.

Hinata bit his tongue.

“Y’know,” Komaeda goes on conversationally. “If a lackluster Ultimate Lucky is capable of that, I wonder what you’re capable of.”

In the next second, Hinata gripped him by the throat. Komaeda isn’t even startled, much less afraid. He just keeps smiling up at Hinata, curious and bright-eyed.

“Naegi-kun did have his precious classmates,” Komaeda murmurs, trailing his fingers along Hinata’s knuckles. “You don’t have anyone.”

Hinata stares at him before sighing, shaking his head as he released the other.

“I have you,” he muttered, gruff and cold.

“Oh!” Komaeda laughed. “That’s worse than nothing!”

–

Komaeda’s all kinds of chirpy and cheerful when they reach Hope’s Peak. He skitters about, excitable and nostalgic, yammering on and on about things that occurred, both on the broadcast and back when they had been in school. Hinata, for obvious reasons, had never been in the old main building, so he just listened half-heartedly as he trailed his fingers along the wall.

“And there was site of the first killing game!” Komaeda exclaims at one point. “Did you know? Hope’s Peak experimented on one of the reserves to make the Ultimate Everything.”

“I did know,” Hinata retorted. “I was one of the candidates.”

“E-Eh?! Really?! You never said that before!” Komaeda gasped. “What was it like? Was it utterly miserable and full of despair?!”

I didn’t know the full ramifications. What changed was—

“This is what’s going to happen to you,” Matsuda had snapped, smacking the desk where the files laid. “Is this really what you want?”

There were other candidates. Given how he had never been picked above others before, Hinata still wondered why Matsuda even bothered.

“Hinata-kun?”

He supposed it was for the same reason this guy bothered.

“It wasn’t really anything, Komaeda.”

Komaeda hums, even as he doesn’t hide his annoyance at being called by name.

“You cheated death twice, I suppose, considering what happened to that unfortunate little experiment. Aha, maybe you should have won the lottery instead.” He chuckles at the thought. “Aah, the thought of just dying alone on a hospital bed is so despairing! But I wouldn’t know if this is much better.”

Komaeda is faced away from him, skipping on ahead. Hinata follows without another word, all the way until they get to the stairs. The helmet weighs heavier and heavier with every step downward. Finally, they’re at the trial room. Komaeda looks around with blatant fascination. He quickened his pace to get to the bloodied mess that still stunk up the stale air about it.

Komaeda sighs oh so happily, rummaging through his case for his tools as Hinata slinks up behind him silently.

“How lucky,” he croons. “The hand is still in-tact…!”

Komaeda has a bit of trouble getting the chainsaw to start. He huffs, irritated.

“Urgh, why now…? Why when my greatest enemy is—?!”

Thwack.

Hinata didn’t hit him that hard with his bat, of course. Komaeda still dropped like a rock with a weak groan. Hinata swings down again, crushing the chainsaw to bits.

“H-Hi… Hi…”

Weakly, Komaeda tries to reach out, both for him and for the busted tool.

“W-Wh…”

“Sorry,” Hinata said, and he sets aside a device that makes Komaeda’s eyes grow hopelessly large. “Took this without asking. If you don’t forgive me, that’s fine.”

Komaeda makes a strangled sound of despair. When Hinata hoists him up, Komaeda flails in protest, screaming and clawing at his helmet until his fingernails break and blood is smeared over the dark metal. It doesn’t even slow Hinata down in carrying him out, and Komaeda can’t even stop him from detonating the bomb once they’re far enough.

–

Rather childishly, Komaeda is turned away from him, pretending he isn’t there even as he bandages up Komaeda’s fingers.

After a while, Komaeda announced, loudly and contemptuously, “My head hurts.”

“I’m surprised you’re still conscious,” Hinata remarked. “You’re hardier than you look.”

Komaeda scowled but shut his mouth firmly. It didn’t last for long.

“The others…are going to want you dead for what you did, Hinata-kun. And they’re going to blame me, too. How tremendously unfortunate.”

Hinata couldn’t care less about that. He had already figured he might as well make the world his enemy when he became the villain.

The remnants…the future foundation… It doesn’t matter who stands in my way. They’re all parasites as far as I’m concerned. Yes. Even him. We’d all be better off without any of them.

“She’s gone,” Komaeda whispered, then. His eyes fell shut. His breath hitches. “She’s really gone.”

Hinata discards his helmet once more. He scoots close, wrapping his arms around Komaeda’s shoulders and pulling him flush, back to Hinata’s chest. Komaeda stiffens as Hinata nuzzles into his hair.

You know it too, don’t you?

“Komaeda.”

“Stop,” Komaeda groaned, struggling a pitiful amount before slumping. “Don’t call me by name. Even if I did answer to it, I don’t want to hear it fall from your filthy reserve mouth.”

“Komaeda.”

You feel the same as me. We’re similar, after all.

Komaeda whines as Hinata breathes in. Hinata pulls back, turning Komaeda towards him and squeezing his shoulders.

“Komaeda,” he says, looking deeply into the other’s gaze. “Let’s destroy this world. All of it. All of it. Let’s destroy everything. Hope, despair—and the future.”

Komaeda stares back.

“Hi…nata-kun…?”

The sun sets on a new age, one without her. It’s still just as wretched, and Hinata’s as ready as he’ll ever be for it.

[wearesorcerer]

Creativity versus Cheating

You may think I’m beating a dead horse about this, but given the number of really stupid takes on this website, I think it needs to be said. With examples! And stories! And ~*fun*~!

A Definition of Cheating

In the end, my erstwhile conversant antagonist mentioned “cheating”. This is a childish way of asserting your disdain for the conversation, but Venomancer has never been a good interlocutor. (This is me being petty and spiteful, but I do have a point here.) “Cheating” gets thrown around a lot as a complaint for why something shouldn’t be allowed. However, to cheat, you have to do three specific things:

Break a rule. Your action has to violate a rule entirely; it can’t simply bend the rule.

Acquire an unfair advantage. Because it required breaking a rule, no one else can benefit from the action you have taken. However, the action still works within the system of other rules to give you some benefit.

Break trust. If you break a rule without intending to do so, it’s a mistake. If you get an unfair advantage but didn’t mean to, it’s a mistake. Cheating has to violate the trust in a system of rules, which demands there be intent behind it.

I point this out because, as I mentioned before, spellcasting in D&D has a very, very long history of people complaining that it is too powerful. Spellcasting. Magic. Seemingly breaking the laws of physics. Magic may or may not itself be cheating (if real, depending on whether or not it actually violates the rules of existence), but its very existence in a codified rule set frequently causes problems, particularly with people who don’t want to play magic-users. The bones of these arguments litter spell descriptions across the editions: feather fall can’t slow down a weapon (so probably not a guillotine blade), magic missile can’t target objects, and other odd bits of wording that make you scratch your head all trace back to some questionable use of a spell.

And yet, it’s not just spells that result in this. Take this conversation from 2006 (D&D 3.5) between a player whose character was a “bareknuckle boxer” Fighter (no idea why he couldn’t have played a Monk) and a DM who was a bit paranoid about getting the run-around from players:

Player: “Can I use Sunder attempts to break opponents’ bones?”

DM: “Hmm... I don’t see why not. However, if you do that, that leaves it open for me to do the same.”

Player: “Y’know, I don’t like that possibility. I’ll just not.”

This is a creative use of established rules to get an advantage. However, it’s not cheating by a long shot: the player is avoiding breaking any rules, the DM approves of the mechanic, and the advantage isn’t unfair because literally anyone can make a sunder attempt (and plenty of monsters can do it better than this bareknuckle boxer could).

You may note that this is the exact same issue as was brought up with the create water in lungs example: the advantage isn’t unfair because others can use the same tactic (this is in fact the poster’s complaint) and the DM had to approve it, meaning either it didn’t violate rules as written (see next) or the DM employed Rule 0 (”the rules are guidelines; tweak or discard them as you wish”). What is “unfair” is that magic users can do this but others cannot; but that’s the same as any class-based issue and is the complaint that’s been leveled at magic users the entire time. But let’s stick with the unfairness at hand: it’s not unfair to other magic users and the DM allowed it, ergo it’s not cheating.

Mistaken Readings: Breaking the Rules but Not Getting a Significant Advantage

Now, here’s the catch. The create water example would vary between editions. I can tell you that in third edition it was against the rules for create water or other conjurations to create objects inside of a creature, while in 5e it requires an open container (lungs themselves are not and the passages into lungs have several ways of being closed specifically to keep water out). All you have to say is “that’s not how the spell works in the rules” and you’re good. But that wasn’t the point of the post, so I’m going to drag it some more.

A great example of such a misreading is a story the bareknuckle boxer player told me of a druid he’d played in high school.. It was the habit of his previous DM to incarcerate his PCs and strip them of all their gear to see how they’d escape from said predicament. My friend’s druid specialized in wood shaping and took Eschew Materials (feat: ignore material or focus components of negligible cost), so he cast goodberry to create some plant matter, then entangle to grow it and wood shape to retrieve the guard’s keys and unlock his cell. Had he a window or were the cell close enough to the outside, he probably wouldn’t have needed the goodberry spell in the first place. As we pointed out to him, though, goodberry didn’t work that way at the time: it wasn’t a Conjuration effect that required berries as material components, but a Transmutation effect that targeted them (making them into healing potions that also filled you), so there were no materials for him to Eschew. This was a key (but subtle) design mechanic to limit the power of a druid, who had no ability to conjure non-creature plants.

Here’s the fun thing, however: 5e’s version of goodberry works exactly the way the player thought it did in 3.5 (save that it’s still an effect of the Transmutation school instead of Conjuration). Any druid worth their salt who likes using plant shaping spells should prepare goodberry if for no other reason than to ensure that they have access to plants. (Sadly, there’s no Eschew Materials equivalent that I know of, but you could find a Divine Focus and hope for the best. Or maybe there is an equivalent that I just don’t know about.)

But here we get into another flaw in the argument: even if it’s not how the rule is supposed to work, it doesn’t exactly grant an unfair advantage. Yes, a druid needs plants to cast a lot of their spells, but not all, and a druid with wood shape (a 2nd-level spell at the time) would be a minimum of 3rd level (I know they were higher because another player was a wild shaper, but let’s just go with that). A 3rd-level druid had a base of 1 2nd-level spell (wood shape) and two 1st-level spells (entangle and goodberry), meaning that if this character had been 3rd-level, he’d have used up all three of his non-bonus spell slots just to break out of a jail cell. (Reminder: cantrips were not at-will in 3.5.) Now, given that I know they could wild shape, I must note that the minimum level for that (5th) would have given him base spell slots of 3/2/1 (not counting cantrips), so he’d still have used half of his spells just to get out of a jail cell.

At that level, though, he could have just shapeshifted into a baboon (Str 15), black bear (Str 19), or a snake (Medium constrictor or Small viper) and gotten out (breaking the door down or slithering through a gap), using a single use of a mechanic to escape and prepare himself for combat. But he didn’t. And his story is better because he didn’t.

And this is where the create water and lungs thing comes back. In the end, if it had been allowed, it would have been a save vs. death. But casters already have plenty of ways of killing creatures at first level -- and often more than one creature at a time, whereas this would have likely only worked on one. Sleep is a great example of an early save or die spell: if the creatures fail their saves, they are now helpless and open for coup de grace-ing (decapitation, stabbination, whatever). Color spray in 3.5 is far and away better than in 5e in this regard because it also makes creatures go comatose, though it doesn’t scale well. (Neither does sleep, for that matter.) Burning hands is an AoE damaging effect. I can go on.

The point is, even misinterpretations of spells tend to run afoul of how cost effective their use is.

In the end, Clerics don’t wander around filling people’s lungs with water because that’s wasteful. You worry about enemy characters trying to kill you in a game about killing things?

Where Rules Mongering Kills Fun

The biggest reason I hate these complaints is not that they make it more difficult to kill things in a game that’s always been about killing things, but in that they try to stamp out any out-of-the-box use for spells. And I mean any.

At the tail end of the Summer of 2005, when I was starting undergrad, another friend of mine recounted tales of a gnomish caster he had played. Two spells featured: dancing lights and Tenser’s floating disk. He had been trying to intimidate some NPC, so rode in on his floating disk and proceeded to use dancing lights to create the image of a humanoid getting disemboweled. Clearly, dancing lights cannot do that: it can create up to four lights or the outline of a single, vaguely humanoid, glowing form. However, if we’re stuck on the dancing lights part, we’ve missed the point: as a gnome caster, he could have done the same thing with silent image anyway (if he had it; I don’t recall what class he was or why he chose dancing lights). No, the issue is with Tenser’s floating disk. Per the spell description:

You create a slightly concave, circular plane of force that follows you about and carries loads for you. The disk is 3 feet in diameter and 1 inch deep at its center. It can hold 100 pounds of weight per caster level. (If used to transport a liquid, its capacity is 2 gallons.) The disk floats approximately 3 feet above the ground at all times and remains level. It floats along horizontally within spell range and will accompany you at a rate of no more than your normal speed each round. If not otherwise directed, it maintains a constant interval of 5 feet between itself and you. The disk winks out of existence when the spell duration expires. The disk also winks out if you move beyond range or try to take the disk more than 3 feet away from the surface beneath it. When the disk winks out, whatever it was supporting falls to the surface beneath it.

It has a range of Close (25 ft. + 5 ft./2 levels), meaning you can direct it to hover anywhere from 0 to 25-75 ft. (1-20th caster levels) from you. If you weigh less than 100 pounds (gear included), at first level you could sit atop it and move at your normal speed. This would accomplish two things: let you ignore terrain problems that require you standing in a square (pressure plates, difficult terrain, etc.) and look really cool but in a fairly typical way for a mage. Since you’re a caster, you’re going to be in the back in marching order, meaning that you’re probably not going to be the one to activate a trap, and your spells have decent range, meaning you don’t have to worry too much about difficult terrain. (This wouldn’t protect you from lava, for the record: remember your convection!) At most, it would let you cross a body of water -- unless the DM said that the surface of the water didn’t count as the surface beneath the disk, which is fair. So minor is this ability that the Elocater prestige class (Expanded Psionics Handbook) gets an equivalent merged with a better version of the levitate spell as a constant effect at first level in addition to a feat and an improvement to previous casting (well, manifesting) ability.

And you might think that all of that’s so minor that surely no one would have complained about it, yet there’s evidence to the contrary. Pathfinder came up with the Magic Trick feat to allow you to do exactly this, but only if you’re third level, pay the feat tax, and put skill points into Fly. Y’know, for the thing that the rules as written would let a light character do at first level and most characters do at second by just casting the spell. Fifth edition won’t let you do it at all: the disk disappears if it comes closer than 20 feet to you (20 ft. is an awfully long distance between you and what amounts to a pack mule you’re leading).

Now, it’s not always that way. 5e’s mage hand is now de jure able to manipulate objects, whereas it wasn’t clear in 3.5, but that’s probably because open/close got folded into it. But for every positive like that, you get two negatives from vociferous people who can’t stand it when other people don’t use spells in specific, pre-defined ways.

In the End...

At the end of the day, having a fun story to tell about how you did something unusual that occurred to you on the spur of the moment and which somehow worked is far and away more important than playing this game like it were a video game, with each spell doing only one thing. And that’s not just coming from me or the people I’ve played with; that’s coming from decades of player stories, fan works, pop culture references, and even D&D novels.

The OP in that old post said that if you can’t abide by their overly narrow, strict interpretation of the rules that maybe you shouldn’t be playing 5e. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t want to sink to their level, but I think I will: if you can’t stand people being creative, you ABSOLUTELY should not be playing a role-playing game of any kind. You should stick to video games and board games. Or Fourth Edition.

[tipsydipsydo]

Improvisation 💻 [M]

Pairing: Sub! Jin x soft Top! Reader

Gender of the Reader: male

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: very in detail descripted/graphic sexual content(!); filthy language; swearing; soft Sub-/Dom-Themes (➙ shy but needy and also teasy Jinnie; the Reader is sometimes not the most assertive Dom, Jin's charm kills him 24/7); Cam/Videocall-Sex; Mastubation; Anal Play; Sextoys; Dirty Talk; Praising; light Edging; Mentions of Nudes and Sexting; Mentions of Unprotected Sex (pls stay safe!)

Summary: This wasn't planned. Well, the whole world didn't planned to deal with a damn pandemic in 2020! If everything would have gone "normally", you would be in Seoul with Jin right in this moment and just enjoy that you're finally able to be close to Jin again. But now you two are stucked at home, Jin in his dorm in Seoul and you in your apartement in your town, far away from him. So you have to improvise for now on, how you want to deal with longing emotions and urging sexual desires...

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My Masterlist for your requests!

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『Disclaimer: This fanfiction should not trivialize or romanticize the actual situation! This pandemic itself is worse enough. The reasons why I wrote a fanfic about this very difficult and sensitive topic can be found in my Authors Note down below.』

Author's Note:

(Be prepared, it's gonna be a long authors note but it's important! So please read it.)

I hope you all (and your friends and family!) are okay and that you didn't get infected with the corona-virus... or at least getting through your infection in the best way possible!

Like the majoritiy of the world population, I got house detention from our government as well (Okay, I'm already two weeks at home because of school closing).

I know, some other writers already used this special situation to write some stuff for us, so we're not going completely crazy by our boredom.

And yes, I wrote something about this too, this here is my own version of all these coronavirus-quarantaine-caused writings out there ^^°.

I hope, y'all not already sick of it... I know, the "Corona-Topic" is literally everywhere and at some point, you just can't listen to anything, that is related to that theme anymore! (Even when it's really important!)

But like all writers here, I just try to "make the best out of this horrible pandemic" and help you, to get through your quarantaine in the best way.

And when you (or someone of your friends, your family or your relatives) are not in quarantaine and you/they have to go to work, because they're a doctor, a nurse, a pharmacist, a scientist, a police officer, part of the military, an employee of a supermarket/drugstore, a factory worker, a truck driver, a farmer etc, you deserve my biggest respect, really! (And to be honest from the whole world population!)

They try to fight the virus itself or their Job count to the sensitive infrastructure of your country, that's why they all try their best to keep the health care system/the minimum of infrastructure in their country going! All these peoples are amazing and they should know that!

I know, especially in this crisis just a little "thank you" can't help them. All of them need to get paid a lot better for their job and they need suitable protective clothing, masks, sanitizer and so much more. In particular these peoples that have to work directly with infected patients like doctors, paramedics or nurses. 

They need these utensils to take care of infected patients properly (especially in risk groups!) and to protect themselfs as well! That's why I appeal to you, to donate medical face-masks or sanitizer that you or your family bought in an inordinate amount in of panic buying to your local hospital.

There is nothing wrong with having one or two face masks or a bottle sanitizer at home. But you don't need 10 bottles sanitizer or 50 face masks, when you simply stay at home!

Trust me, they'll need it so much more than you. We can't fight the virus when the medical staff themself get infected. All these peoples out there risk their own health, maybe even life for us! In some countries or regions they're already completely overworked and near to a (systematic and mental) break down.

When we could help them with literally doing nothing and staying at home, then please, please, please do it!

I'm not a doctor or a nurse, but I think when everybody follow their government's rules (or in general, the instructions of the WHO) and help the health care system of their country with simply staying at home, we're able to get through this pandemic somehow.

「So in short: This following story should only be a gentle reminder to stay at your fucking home and to follow your government's rules to prevent that the virus spread even more! Okay? Thank you.」

So, now you're allowed to read. Enjoy~💚

「© tipsydipsydo」

This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

You sigh and play around restlessly with the cable of the charger of your laptop, which is plugged into it and is just in front of you on the bed tray. Even when Jin and you text each other almost every free minute, you get nervous every time he takes a little longer to answer your video call.

The past few weeks have made you an emotional wreck, especially when suddenly the infections in South Korea are skyrocketed. You contacted Jin immediately and asked him, if he, the members, his family and friends were doing well.

And overall, how the situation in Korea is and with which Strategy his government is now going to deal with it.

In the following weeks the virus continued to spread. Every day new states reported their first cases, infections increased in many countries, more and more nations prescribed school closings and national quarantine for almost all citizens. With each new day, the international infrastructure and thus also the economy gradually came to a standstill. Sometimes it feels like the earth has stopped spinning around the sun.

The whole further development of the epidemic, now pandemic, is still absolutely uncertain. Too little is the knowledge about this new virus and his behaviors. No one knows when an effective vaccine will exist.

So there is nothing else you can do but hope for the best and follow the rules of your own government and the instructions of the WHO. That means self-isolation and quarantine at home indefinitely.

That was nothing you had planned... actually you wanted to be in Seoul since three days and at that very moment you would lying tightly wrapped up with Jin in his bed.

Your visit in Seoul had been planned for months, everything was already perfectly organized and arranged, Jin even got a few days off! And now? Now you both are sitting far away from each other in your bedroom and only have the opportunity to do video calls with each other. Again.

Although your vacation were already planned and your Boss agreed, it hasn't been so clear in the past few weeks anymore if you can still take your vacation days due to this current situation.

The economic situation has become increasingly difficult, especially for the international trading company you work for. In the End, the government destroyed your plans anyway by stopping air travel and the legal prohibition of entry and exit of the country.

Of course, you were incredibly angry and frustrated at first, but in retrospect you realized that it was a good decision to do that. At least to slow down the spreading.

If you had flown to Seoul, you might have been infected. Perhaps the virus can only cause you little or even no problems, but you could've negligently infected risk groups.

And, to be honest, if you would have flown to Seoul, that would be just because of pure selfishness. And you don't want to be responsible for for spreading the virus even more.

That was in general the reason, why you decided to basically stay at home for now on. You only go out for grocery shopping once a week. At least, you try  your best not to get infected and therefore not to infect anyone else. And at the same time not to die of boredom.

Although Jin currently has more time than usual, he still has to work and to practice with the other members. When they have finished their daily routine, Namjoon and Yoongi mostly continue their "quarantine" in their studios and Hoseok and Jimin stay in the dance studio a little longer. Here and there Tae and Kookie keep them company and practice their choreography a little bit more with them, before they come back to the dorm and play video games or do other things.

As usual, Jin takes over the cooking and takes the opportunity to talk to you on the phone as much as possible or to facetime with you. Of course, it's nice that you can still spend so much time together with the help of the modern technology. But it cannot replace a real visit.

They've not met each other for a too long time, for too long it has not been possible for you two to kiss, cuddle or exchange carresses with one another... For too long, you both had no sex. And that with two people who have, let's say, a very healthy sex drive. It's awful.

You had tried a few times to get sexually active with Jin in front of the screen. But it seems like it's not his thing at all. Talking a bit here and there via text message about your dirty fantasies is okay for him. And when your Jinnie is really horny, you can also encourage him with some messages to send you a dick pics or a few voice mails where he's masturbating and moan your name in such a sinful way. When you have brought him to this point, you praise him a lot and assure him, how sexy he is ans how hot it is that he sends you such pictures.

Pictures yes, videos no.

When you ask him then, if he would be comfortable with making phone calls or even video chats of this kind of "talk", Jin will backtrack.

He can't really explain it, but he doesn't feel comfortable with presenting himself completely naked in front of the camera and even doing filthy things at the same time.

But you understand what he's trying to tell you. Jin loves it intense and passionately, with an extensive foreplay and good aftercare, but "really freaky stuff" is not his world. Doing sexual things with his partner is very personal to Jin, and he's also an idol, it would be a catastrophe when a video or picture of this kind would get public.

Therefore you fully accept his limits! After all, there is nothing to complain about, sex with Jin is always wonderful and absolutely satisfying!

Only when you are separated from each other again, you hardly know how to deal with your sexual desire. Well, would you have thought that Jin has completely the same problems and your sweetheart is just a little shy, to make naugthy things in front of the camera?...

You gasp in relief when Jin finally accepts the call and greets you with an apology, that it tooks so long. The environment tells you that he is in his room. You assume that he's sitting on his bed and leaning against the wall, the laptop on his lap.

You smile at him affectionately, reassure him that he doesn't have to apologize just because his boyfriend unwillingly becomes a bit overprotective and worries too much. You know that all this is not good, but you just can't switch off worrying about your darling.

Jin smiles a little shyly at you, his cheeks are slightly reddened. You want to ask if he's really okay, but you bite yourself on the tongue quickly. The virus had been the subject of your conversation far too often. Jin can take care of himself, if there is any suspicion that he may have been infected, he will tell you. At least, Jin and BigHit Entertainment will know how to handle it.

"No, no Y/N. Don't worry, I'm just like you... You should hear how the boys talking about me. They say, that I'm overthinking way too much... But you are fine, right? And how are your Parents in your hometown, are there already the first infections?", Jin asks and looks at you with an insistent look, eyebrows knitted in concern.

This here became to a ritual, for now on you talk always the first five minutes about the current situation. No matter whether using text messages, voices mails, phone calls or videocalls. Every day you ask each other whether the infections in your both country has improved or deteriorated, how each other's friends and family are doing, and what measures South Korea and now your country are taking.

After that, your conversation mostly wanders to other topics. It's good to come up with other thoughts as well, so nobody is going completely crazy. As many politicians, doctors and virologists already said, we have no choice but to keep calm and not to panic before we start acting thoughtlessly.

You're just about to start complaining a little bit about all the work you have to do in your home-office when Jin anticipates you.

"Y-Y/N?"

You look back at the screen and see how the initial slight blush on Jin's face has intensified and spread to his ears. In addition, you've noticed a few minutes before that Jin has become a bit restless and keeps moving back and forth. As if his sitting position is uncomfortable.

"Yes? Darling, is something wrong? You seems to be so restless and that something is uncomfortable for you ...", you answer him and look at him questioningly with a concerned frown between your eyebrows. The blush on his cheeks increases a shade darker and now it has completely taken over his ears. God, if you're honest, it's so cute when he's shy and his ears turns red.

"Would you like to know why it took me so long to answer your call... there is... there is a reason for that," Jin says quietly.

In precaution, he looks at his room door again to make sure that it's really locked. Even when everyone else is not in the dorm right now, you'll never know who would opens the door of his room without expecting anything... indecent.

He takes a deep breath before he puts the laptop down on his bed, positions the screen with the camera at the right angle. You can see how Jin's prominent adam's apple starts bobbing nervously. This sight makes you involuntarily biting your lower lip and a warm shiver trickles down your back. 

Fuck, Jin's throat has always been one of your soft spots. This sight is tempting ypu to spread countless hickeys on his soft skin, want to mark him as your boyfriend. Because he's an idol, you always have to hold back with your little kink, because a dark love mark can't even cover up the best make-up really well.

But sometimes you just can't hold back or you just forgot that you should do it. Like when Jin's moaning and whimpering is so damn sexy, it makes you addicted to wanting to hear it again and again. Besides that, responds so wonderfully to your touch...

You going to be ripped out of your lewd thoughts when Jin turns with his back to you and his precious butt is now on the same level with your eyes. A completely confused expression manifests on your face. What the-

"I-I have a little surprise for you... I hope you like it...", says Jin in a trembling voice and hooks his two thumbs into the waistband of his sweatpants.

Your next breath gets stuck in your throat as your boyfriend pulls his sweats and boxer briefs at the same time down.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Your lips open, you want to say something, but no sound comes out of your mouth. You're absolutely speechless. Your sweet, innocent Jin...

Between his perfectly round buttcheeks is a metal buttplug, gemmed with a beautiful turquoise-blue jewel. You had never used toys in your sex life before. Jin is more of a fan of getting fingered extensively from you until he's prepared and relaxed enough to take you slowly all way in.

And now, this beautiful buttplug is enclosed in the most erotic and sinful way by your sweet, rosy musclering.

Fuck, if you only could be with Jin right now, to be able to admire this plug with a closer look, to pull it out of Jin and tease his hole a little bit with the tip of the plug.

You're so fascinated and immersed in admiration that you don't notice how Jin is getting nervous and insecure. You still haven't said anything, even though a minute has passed.

"Y-Y/N?", Jin asks in an unsettled voice. He's already about to turn around and pull his pants up again, when life comes back into your body and you answer him hastily.

"No, no, no! Please stay in this position! Fuck, baby... I don't know what to say... You are so damn sexy!", you're stuttering, you just can't take your eyes from his plug.

"But please explain to me... why... why are you doing things like that? And where did you get the plug? I-I mean, fuck, that's so damn sexy, I'm the happiest man in the world and I wish, I'd with you right in this moment and could tease you a little bit with this cute little plug... but why? I thought such things in front of the camera makes you uncomfortable? Please don't do such things only for me! Just because I'm so fucking horny today again! Please don't do it because you-", but then Jin interrupts your babbling.

When you got out of the shower this morning and looked at yourself in the mirror, you couldn't help it but send Jin a picture of you shirtless, hoping to get him involved in a bit of spicy and horny texting. You've the feeling that this quarantine and the canceled visit makes you horny 24/7. You don't want to admit it, but fuck. You need Jin so much.

"I wanted to try this for a long time... for months it kept coming back to my mind. I was frustrated by myself when you tried to encourage me to do something sexual in videos or directly live in front of you but always pull back again. Because... because... I don't know it clearly. I wanted to do something with you, I-I had countless fantasies about it in my mind... I wanted to be sexy for you, to make you moan and curse with my s-sight... b-but I think, I was just too shy every time. I felt so awkward and ridiculous doing things like that in front of the laptop. Such things that the two of us usually only do together on our own. I was embarrassed by myself... ", Jin mumbled and is glad, that at this moment you only see his butt and not his crimson red face.

Your eyes grew round like bowling balls, filled with disbelief.

"W-What? So that means... you wanted to do these things all day, but you were just too shy? Because you thought you would be awkward and weird?"

"Y-Yes. I want to do... naugthy stuff with you while videocalling... Fuck, Y/N, I miss you so much! I miss your kisses, your hugs, your soft carresses, your tender kisses on my body. Our foreplay, when you gently prepare me and finger me open for you... I-I miss our sex so much and just mastubation with my hand isn't satisfying anymore! I want you... I need you so bad... ", says Jin. Starts whimpering at the last of his sentences.

With these words, a deep growl comes from your throat and some curses leaves your lips, your pants has become so damn tight at the center.

"Fuck, baby, I know. I know how you feel, I feel the same way! I want you so bad, I was looking forward to seeing you again. Fuck, this damn pandemic."

You push the bed tray with the laptop a little away, impatiently you unbuckle your belt and opens your pants. Your cock needs a little more freedom in this moment.

When Jin hears your words and the rustling of fabric, realize how worked up you already are, he immediately feels a little bit more confident. He moves a little closer to the laptop and offers you an even better view. He bites his lower lip in anticipation of what finally seems to follow after such a long time.

"Jin... would you be okay with it to pull your butt cheeks apart so that I can see the plug... a little bit better?", you ask in a husky growl, teasing your hard erection through the thin fabric of your boxers.

By this question, a soft whimpering comes over Jin's lips, with trembling hands he reachs back and placing each one on a butt cheek, pulling them slowly apart to give you the sight you desire for.

"Fuck, Jin Baby, that's so sexy. You're so, so damn sexy! Do you even know how all of this here is turning me on? God, you're killing me!", you groan and rubbing instantly harder over you clothed, rock hard dick.

A little smirk appeared on Jin's lips. When he's already killing you right know, how should you survive these other things that Jin planned for tonight...

"Honey, would you like it when I pull that plug out of me and gonna finger myself... w-while you can watch me?", Jin asks you sweetly with a slightly shaking voice. The thought alone let Jin's own erection twitch.

Oh fuck, Jin is going to be your death someday.

"Please, Baby... I would be so thankful when you allow me such a view. Letting me watch how you please yourself...", you answer in a breathy, hoarse voice and let your head fall back against the wall.

Closing your eyes for a moment, try to prepare yourself mentally for what coming next. This Show, Jin will give you, will be surely unbelievable sexy... but also an absolute torture for you.

You're usual the one with a leading hand in your relationship when it comes to bedroom stuff. But you have to admit, that you're not the most assertiv Top... and Jin knows way too well, where to find and to press your soft spots.

Sometimes it comes to the point that Jinnie is wrecking you more than you him! You think, that your Darling kinda loves the thought to make your knees weak instead of his. And to be honest... you loves it so fucking much, when your big shy bean find his self confidence again and tease the shit out of you, just saying, that he just wants to please you.

As you hear a soft whimper coming out of the speakers of you Laptop, you startle and your eyes snaps open immediatly. A little groan get out of you throat, that rises up from the deepest place of your chest. God, it shouldn't be allowed to be so fucking attractive, you think.

Jin pulled a latex glove of his right hand and is about to reach back to his most precious places, to grab the gemmed base of his plug. His left hand pull his buttcheek a little bit away to give you an amazing view of his action.

Your Boxer briefs has literally a tent at your crotch now and your cock twitch at the sight, is angrily fighting to be finally completely free. God, you're such a bastard for very detailed graphics... like the view Jinnie is giving you now.

You yank your Jeans and your Boxers with a curse down. Gripping your hard length and squeezes it with a firm grip, when you see Jin's rosy, seductively glistening muscle ring stretching open as your Boyfriend pulls the plug slowly out of himself.

He's panting fast when he let the plug fall on a towel beside him and his left hand leaves his butt. His upper body flops down onto the mattress and now, your Jinnie presents himself in the most erotic way you could imagine.

Ass up, sticking his butt out into the air and let you admire his sweet hole, slightly stretched my the plug, clenching around nothing in anticipation for the promised play session that will follow now.

Jin lets his lower body sink down as well, laying on his stomach and turning onto his right side. Allow you a little glance of Jin's adorably pink flushed cheeks and the red tips of his ears. This sight makes your heart and stomach flutter, blushy Jin while doing naughty stuff is just... hitting all of your soft spots in one tour.

He pulls his upper leg, his left leg up to his chest and positions himself comfortably, while he's pouring a good amount of lube onto his latex gloved fingers. Then he's reaching back again.

The pad of Jin's middle finger teases gently his entrance, his body is still moving until he founds a really comfortable position. After the tip of his finger disappeared in himself, the whole length of his finger sinks into his sweet hole as well. Let you watch, how he'll finger himself, enjoying himself, feeding his own desire, give him this desperately needed pleasure when you can't unfortunately. And fuck... that's so hot!

After he needs a short moment to adjust, he starts pumping his middle finger in and out. At first slowly, then faster and faster. Jin is getting even needier when the pleasure of his finger-play arise more and more. It didn't took long until he allows his ring finger to glide into his hot walls as well.

After a few thrusts of his hand, he begins to spread his two fingers apart, scissoring and stretching his sinful tight asshole open, let you watch the movements of his fingers very well.

You're gulping and breathing audibly out of your nose, a longing, slightly even desperate hum leaves your throat. You want to be at Jin's side, want to watch him in real.

You want to see, how he's stretching himself open for your cock, moaning and whimpering you name. You want to touch him. You want to grip his thigh and his left ass cheek firmly, give it a gentle slap and pull the soft flesh up to get a closer look.

Admiring how wonderful his fingers fucking himself, how rapidly he's slamming them into his hole, his noises getting even more whiny and desperate. His hips starts to circle, loud breathy and high pitched moans leaving his lips when his fingertips reaching for a second this sweet spot deep inside of him.

But just for a tiny moment, there is not enough stimulation for your needy Boy. Especially when he knows how good he could feel, when he remember the times when you teased his prostate.

Your thumb grazing again and again over your angry red, precum leaking crown, teasing yourself. The urge is enormous to just jack off in a brutal fast pace to finally satisfy the barely standable desire, that grows in your abdomen.

Your eyes don't leave the screen when you reach to your beside table and pull the first drawer open, searching uncoordinated with your hand in there. You curse under breath when you finally perceive the things you searched for, but can't grab them.

If you want or not, your eyes have to leave the erotic sight of Jin's figure for a moment, when you want to get your needed things out of the drawer.

You bend quickly over to the side, fishing the lube and your fleshlight out of your nightstand. You use this helpful toy when there is not enough friction to get you off or... when you're freaking horny... when you just want to fuck Jin right in that moment.

With it, you can better imagine how you'd be pounding into Jin, laying his legs over your shoulders and gripping his thighs. Let Jin whimper and beg until you allow him to touch his own cock to be finally able to cum. Imagine, how his hot walls gripping your cock tightly, literally squeezing and cock milking you until it's too much and you shoot you load of white, creamy cum deep inside of him.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! You need him so, so freaking bad right now, it drives you crazy!

When you turn back to your Laptop, Jin is panting heavingly and pulls his fingers out of himself right in that moment, throwing the used latex glove into the trash can next to his bed. Now you're the one who starts whining.

"Baby, why just stopped fingering yourself? Fuck, that was so damn hot and I love to see that, why-", you ask him, eyebrows pulled together in desperation and frustration.

Jin's body is trembling, he's panting fast and gasps for breath leaves his red swollen lips. He need a bit time to collect himself again and to be able to anwer you in a throaty voice.

"T-There is another surprise I prepared for you...", he's stuttering slightly and grab his laptop to place you with it in his desk. You're confused, again.

He goes back to his bed, step out of his pants completely now and pulling his green sweater over his head.

Now he's standing in his bare, naked full glory infront of the camera, let you gasp for breath. God, he's beautiful. His body reminds you always of these greek sculptures, his beauty is absolutely beyond all descriptions.

You can't describe him. You have to see him.

He grabs for the bottle of lube and lays it next to you, well, his laptop, on his desk. Without a word, you follow his actions, don't dare to say anything. Even when you two are not in the same room, there is a thick sexual tension between Jin and you through your laptops.

"Y/N... can you close your eyes for a moment? Until I say you can look again?", Jin says in a quiet voice. Looking at you through the camera in dark pupils full of lust and with pleading eyes, to just follow his appeal without asking.

Well, you wanted to protest but with this sight you close your mouth again and nod slightly, closing your eyes as well.

You hear some footsteps, something rumbles like he's moving something around. You knit confused and questioningly your eyebrows together, but you don't say anything. These noises disappears and silence returns to the speakers of your laptops. Just here and there you can hear some soft footsteps of Jin.

Suddenly, out of nowhere you can hear a long, broken moan of Jin that is followed by a soft, sweet "Oh my God, yes!" and a shaky, but so sensual hum that comes out of Jin's Chest.

"B-Baby... Y-You can open your eyes again..."

Even when you opened your eyes again, you can't believe them. That has to be a fucking dream, right?

You squint your eyes more than one time, your jaw dropped and you can't bring any proper sentences over your lips, starts babbling nonsense.

"O-Oh my holy fuck!... Jin, oh fuck... Fuck, fuck, fuck, you can't kill me like that! Y-You can't do this to me, I'll going completely crazy to see you like that... Fuck, Jin Baby, I want you so bad... Oh God, that's so sexy. You're so goddamn sexy."

Jin is sitting with the back to you on a chair with a flat seating surface, gripping moaning and whimpering the edge of the backrest tightly. Lifting himself slowly up and lower his body with the most delicious and tantalizing hip circles again.

Bouncing at first slow, then faster and faster on this transparent pink silicone dildo that is placed with a suction-pad on the seat.

Let you watch how good he can take this fake cock in his tight ass after he prepared himself with fingerfucking so well. How he lowers himself down, stuffing the dildo inch for inch into his stretched and needy hole, filling himself up with this silicone dick.

The way, how he's riding this dildo in front of the camera, so needy and desperate...

The way, how all these moans and whimpers flowing over his lips without any shame...

Let you guess, how much he needed you too, how bad he needed to get fucked by your cock again.

It shows you how much he's missing the sex with you.

You can't see his face, but the red tips of his ears. You don't know why, but it turns you so fucking much on, to see Jin's blushing face.

To see, how he's a little bit embarrassed for being so needy but at the same time he's riding this dildo so fucking desperate, can't stuff enough of this plastic cock into his greedy hole. Bouncing up and down on this dick, moaning your name like he's riding you in this moment, instead of this fake dick.

Let you see, how he would bouncing on you, how he would fucking you when you would be at his side.

And this... this so goddamn sexy that you have the feeling that you'll go insane by your desire for him.

"Jin, Baby... turn around. I want to see your face when you cum. I want to see your blushy face. Flushed red, caused by your embarrassment for doing filthy things in front of the camera, right?", you ask him breathless, a little teasing smirk.

Jin whine and when he hesitatingly turn around, you see that he got even redder. God, your precious baby is so shy doing dirty things with you... you love it!

While he's turning around and re-positioned himself above the dildo, you hastily prepare your rock hard cock and the fleshlight with lube. When Jin sinks down on that dildo, you enter with a deep groan the fleshlight.

The fleshlight is only a poor comfort when you know how tight and hot Jin's walls really are. But you see Jin with the same unsatiesfied desire when he's bouncing on that damn fake dick. Jin knows, how wonderful your cock, only your cock, stretch his ass in all perfect places open and filling him up to the maximum.

But still, it's definitely better than nothing! You'll go through this time together until you're finally able to lay in each others arms again.

You hear in Jin's whines and his needy face expression shows you that he gets closer and closer to the edge, but it's not enough to cum. He's about to wrap his hand around his hard, precum leaking dick, when you start lecturing him.

"Nuh, nuh, nuh! Baby, you know the rule, right? You're not going to touch your cock until I say so, is that clear? You know the reason? Hm?", you say in a harsh, dominant voice and raise an eyebrow.

Jin bite down on his plushy and swollen lip, try his best not to let a whine out. Jinnie's face full of desperation and sexual need is one of your favourite views... that's pure art.

"Y-Yes... I-I'm not allowed to touch myself until you're close too, so we can cum together...", he whimper with a broken voice.

"That's right, Darling... so please wait a little bit longer... for me, yeah?", you wisper in a gentle tone into the microphone of the laptop.

The longer Jin wasn't allowed to touch his dick, the more whinier he got, bouncing breathlessly up and down on his dildo. But exactly that turned you even more on and your hand, with which you hold the fleshlight moved even faster. So it doesn't took much time that you're on the cliff to cum too.

You enjoy how Jin looks at you since the last three minutes. So fucking desperate and needy, impatiently waiting at your sign that he's allowed to touch his cock and jack himself off.

A thin layer of sweat is covering his skin, his bangs sticks to his forehead, plush lips are red from chewing. His chest rises and falls quickly, Jin's breathing is fast. His fingers are clawed on the edges of the seat, his arms supporting him while riding the cute transparent, pastel pink silicone cock.

Your gaze move lower in his body, a satisfied smirk spread in your lips when you see his thick long cock twitching whenever he fills his ass with the dildo up to the base. The crown of his dick is red and precum is spread all over his stomach and the top of his thighs. His plump balls, completely full of delicous cum are shacked up to his body. They're just waiting for release and to be finally able to let the load shoot all over Jinnie's stomach and chest.

You love the sight. Even when you're not there, at the end you're still able to make a complete mess out of your sweet Boy.

Now, you think, he should be allowed to cum.

"Now, Baby...", you said with a teasing smirk and you're literally bathing in satisfaction when Jin gasps in relief and immediatley wrapping his hand into a fist around his cock. He just needed a few rubs until he cum with a high-pitched whine that sounds like a mixture of a moan and a sob. God, he's so messed up.

This sound alone let you blow your load into your fleshlight.

Jin's orgasm seems to be strong, the waves of pleasure leaves his body trembling and oversensitive. He flinch when he's about to get up from the dildo and takes it out of his super oversensitive hole.

God, he's so fucking beautiful when he's messed up.

"Baby, this was undescribable sexy... we should do it more often, definitely! Who know's when we're able to see each other in real life again? Hm, what do you think, Jinnie?"

Jin is gulping, his adams apple bobs in damn attractive way and then, he's nodding with bright red cheeks.

"Yes... please."

Okay, with this fanfic here I've fulfilled my educational responsibility as a fanfic writer!😂😅

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #378

“come as you are, as you were, as i want you to be”

Have you ever dreamt in another language? No. How long will you try out something you don’t enjoy before giving up on it? It really depends, but in most cases, admittedly very quickly. What’s something you recently realized or discovered about yourself? *shrug* What’s the most interesting news you read or received recently? What about the most depressing? Not in a good way really, but it was certainly interesting to learn I have such severe sleep apnea. Like, I was certain I didn't. The most depressing would be uhhhh... I guess Jason's mother's death, but I don't know how "recent" you'd consider that by now. Would you let politics get in the way of a relationship? It depends. Some beliefs I absolutely would not tolerate (like anti-LGBT), others I would just agree to disagree with. What is one way in which you need to learn to control yourself? I need to get better at controlling my mouth when I'm extremely upset. Do you use a photo editor? I use Lightroom and Photoshop for photography. Is your dad overweight? No, I think he's actually underweight. Ever been honked at? Yes. What’s the name of the most recent baby a friend has had? Easton, I think? An old middle school friend had him. Have you ever taken medication to help you fall asleep faster? Yes, but they never work for me. How did your parents pick your name? I dunno. If you had to move to another country, where would you move? Canada. Do you have a balcony? No. Who is a singer that has given you chills? Man, I get chills easily with music. David Draiman from Disturbed, his cover of "Sound of Silence" is BREATHTAKING. That's number one. There are many others, they're just not coming to me at the moment. Do you have a drone? No. What was the spiciest thing you’ve ever eaten? Some wings at Buffalo Wild Wings. I got some crazy hot sauce. Have you ever discovered something gross in your food at McDonalds? No. What was the last thing you used sliced bread to make? A sandwich. How long did your shortest relationship last? Like a day lmao. Would you rather have a trampoline or swimming pool? A POOL!!!! I've talked before about how I want one so, SO very badly to exercise my legs without having to worry about sweat, and I can take a break the very moment I need to. Do you own a Snuggie? Yeah, somewhere. Do you listen to any unsigned bands/singers? Who? Yeah, quite a few on YouTube, but my favorite in Jonathan Young. He is SO damn talented. Who is your favorite video game character? Pyramid Head from the Silent Hill franchise. What kind of pictures do you post on Facebook/Instagram/Snapchat most frequently? Mostly of my pets lmao. Have you ever been on vacation with a significant other? No. Have you ever considered “unplugging”/taking a significant period of time away from technology? No. I know I'd never stick to it. Do you prefer to watch a documentary that is about a situation/event or a documentary that is more of a personal character study/biography? The latter. Meerkat Manor comes to mind with that, and everyone knows how much I adore that show. There was also one about rhesus macaques I fell in love with. Basically, I love animal docs, haha. Can you think of a recent time in which you might have been better off resisting, but you did something because you “just couldn’t help yourself”? Probably eating something. When you are getting to know someone, do you tend to worry that the other person will lose interest in you once they get to know the “real” you? Yyyyep. What is something that you would like to do, but really aren’t able to because of your location? (e.g., see art or get a certain job) Man, a lot of things. Photograph meerkats is a biggie. What sort of job do you think is best suited for your skills? Is this an in-demand position or something you’re unlikely to actually get? If I could actually handle the heat and was in good shape to traverse the outdoors, I think I'd be a great wildlife biologist. Even more though, if I could beat my social anxiety, I would ADORE being an animal educator with kids. Do you believe it is the responsibility of businesses, or prominent business leaders (think Bill Gates) to take the lead on social issues whether by using their influence or their money? Saying it's their "responsibility" sounds unfair and puts a lot of weight on their shoulders, but I do feel they should by their own volition and kindness use their position for good, such as through monetary assistance and other things. Have you ever gone to a job interview and realized that you didn’t want the job? Yep. Have you ever asked that someone sacrifice something (a habit, relationship, job, etc.) for you? A habit, yes. Looking back it was stupid as shit. What would you call your body type? Ew. Has anyone ever hacked your accounts before? Yes. Do you enjoy big holiday dinners? Considering I spend them with my sister's bigoted, homophobic, and racist in-laws, not especially. I always feel very uncomfortable and disliked among everyone for being the "black sheep" among 'em. Is your vision good? God no. Even with my glasses, it's very poor. I need a new prescription badly. Do both of your parents have jobs? Mom has something of the sort, like she cleans a local church for a small pay, but it's not really a "job." She's still recovering from cancer, getting her strength back up and such before she can handle a consistent job. Dad's had a job for as long as I've lived. What is something you’ve always wanted a boy to do for you? How heteronormative. But whatever. It's so fucking cheesy, but singing a cute song to me while slowdancing sounds so super adorable to me. What food are you craving right now? I am craving something sweet like you wouldn't believe. It's annoying. Have you ever been in a car accident? Yes. Do you have a lot of scars? Yes, but most are very negligible. I just scar extremely easily. Last person you saw other than your family? My primary doctor. Last movie you’ve seen in theaters? The The Lion King remake. Who was the last person you played a video game with? Ummm I think Girt. Last game you played at an arcade? Zero clue. What was your favorite nursery rhyme as a child? I THINK I particularly liked "The Itsy-Bitsy Spider?" None stand out strongly, though. What is your favorite cousin’s first name? I don’t have a favorite cousin. Would you prefer to travel around the world by yourself or with a friend? I think with a friend to prevent loneliness, but at the very same time, I see a great beauty in traveling on your own. Just taking new things in, seeing so many different cultures, beautiful scenery... I feel it'd be a great chance for exploration of insight. Remind yourself how small you are, that there's a much, much bigger picture than your own problems, that people are so unique but hopefully share common morals... I see a lot of poetry in it. Do you like the smell of coffee? It's one of my favorite smells. If you have a favorite photographer, can you describe their work? I can't possibly pick. I watch literally hundreds on deviantART, and many of them absolutely blow my mind. What’s one aspect of your life that did not turn out as you expected? My lack of a career. Outside of school, have you ever used a thesaurus? Well, online ones for writing. When you see a good-looking girl in skimpy clothing, what is your initial thought? I envy her confidence, like gotdamn girl. Have you ever been in a lighthouse? No. Are you on a laptop or desktop? A laptop. What color is your shower? White. Where do you order your pizza from? Domino's or Little Caesar's. What was the name of the last dog you pet? We've been calling the dog we're holding right now Zoe. Have you ever had anything stolen from you? Yes. Have you ever seen the White House? I don't think so, but it's possible I have when we've driven up to New York, but from a distance. How about Niagara Falls? No. What do you like in your salads and what dressing do you prefer? I just like regular iceberg lettuce with some bacon bits and ranch. Man, that sounds good right about now. Any posters of a band on your bedroom wall? Yeah, Metallica and Marilyn Manson. Do you think it’d be cool to have your body mummified after you die? No. I couldn't rock the mummy look even if I tried, haha. Can you tell the difference between a Scottish & an Irish accent? Not really, no. Can you read music? I used to be able to. Do you work the night shift? I don’t have a job, but if I did, I absolutely do not want to work the night shift anywhere. Have you ever slept over at your best friend’s house? Yes. Is your mother diabetic? Are you? She is, but I'm not. Would you like to learn how to make ceramic pottery? It'd be cool, sure. Ever sang someone to sleep? No. Who did you last kiss? My cat. Why did you last lie? I don't recall. Probably to just avoid confrontation with Mom. What do you put on your hamburgers? Cheese, ketchup, and mustard, generally. Who do you think cares the most about you? My mom. Have you ever sent a dirty picture? No. What’s at the center of your dining table? Honestly, we sit in there so rarely that I don't even know. I think we might have nothing, actually. Have you ever started a rumor? No. Do you like being outside? If it's cool, yes. What’s your favourite condiment? Maybe ketchup. Or honey mustard. Who sang/played the last song you listened to? Chris Motionless is the singer of Motionless In White. I don't know if that's his real last name, though. Do you like yoga? I used to. Now all the bending and shit would make me dizzy as hell with my "how are you still alive" level of low blood pressure. Do you always carry breath mints? No, but I do carry Tictacs with me, but they're for my dry mouth. It forces you to salivate, so it helps. What do you think your reaction would be upon entering the White House? I don't really know. I honestly don't even know how it looks inside. Thinking about it, I'd probably be more scared than anything, waiting for a bomb to drop or some shit lmao. Have you ever grown your own sea monkeys or dinosaurs? OH MY GOD I LOVED those!!! I definitely did! Have you ever thrown a game controller (or the game) and broke it? No, I've never been the type to do that. If I'm SERIOUSLY getting mad, all I do is tighten my grip. Did you ever own an Etch-a-Sketch? Yes. Do/did you ever have glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling? I believe so. What movie were you really worked up for that ended up disappointing you? My answer is Warcraft, but only because the fucking orcs' voices were so baritone that I couldn't understand them almost ever lmaooo. Like I had a mild idea of what was going on because of the game, but still. What part of a paper is hardest for you to write? The intro, or the conclusion. Both are difficult to me. Like I want to compose a gripping beginning as well as an end that doesn't just repeat everything I've already said and ends on a strong note. Does it bother you that almost everything is done on computers now? No. KFC Chicken: original or extra crispy? I don't like fried chicken. Think about your first kiss. Did you have any idea what you were doing? I mean, I guess? Like I'd seen kisses enough to know how to give someone a peck. It just came naturally. Did you get Happy Meals just for the toys as a kid? Not just for the toy, but it's the main thing I wanted, sure. Have you ever seen your parents cry? If so, how did it make you feel? Seeing my mom cry absolutely destroys me. I don't want her to hurt EVER. Especially if it's seriously unfair bullshit that has her upset, I also get very angry (not at her, of course) and protective. I've seen Dad tear up once, back when he was telling us about his mother's funeral, and I felt immense surprise more than anything. He does NOT cry. How do you feel about animal testing? It's fucking disgusting and barbaric. Find a different goddamn way. Do you add condiments to your ice cream, or just eat it plain? If I'm having vanilla, I'll usually add chocolate syrup. Have you ever witnessed a crime? Yes. What’s the coolest personalized license plate you’ve ever seen? I'm forever gonna get a kick out of this one that just said "omw," haha.

[silvershears]

Alright, listen. This book honks. And I want to talk about why. No, I'm not getting into the book review scene, but please indulge me.

I never had any intention of reading this book. I'll be up front with that.

A new coworker is a newish fantasy reader who, upon discovering that I am a long-time fantasy reader who also writes and has some vague publishing background, asked, "Would you read this book and tell me what you think? I haven't read it yet, but I'm curious to hear your opinion."

Sure. Why not. I was only 50 pages into the book I was reading at the time, so why not put that on pause and give this a go? This became infinitely more complicated by the fact that my new coworker is acquaintances with his wife, and then add in that I've met this author, had a bad interaction, and decided I never wanted to read his books. Nevertheless, I was determined to give it a go anyway, and I wavered for a while on whether to even include that background here.

Wasn't I already predisposed to not like this book? Perhaps. But this book was an excellent learning opportunity, if not a good story, and I think it's important for us all to approach books we don't like this way: Each time I ran hard up against my own disgust, I paused to ask myself why I felt that way. What was it about the story, the writing, the character, the plot, the world that made me react this way, and how did that interact with the author's intent?

First of all, a disclaimer: This will have spoilers. If you intended to check this book out, perhaps don't continue further until you've read it yourself. Maybe then come back and compare your experience to mine.

> The worldbuilding is based on two-dimensional lore.

The world is comprised of what appears to be three human races split along religious lines. The three sibling gods each have their own race of followers with some individuals inheriting the magical power of their god. One is a magic associated with air and water with a father/older brother god figure; the next is a mother/middle sister associated with fire and light; the third is a little brother associated with... the hard labor of forging? It's unclear what he originally stood for, but by the time the immense lore dumps are complete, we see the little brother's transformation from a highly skilled craftsperson who takes immense pleasure in crafting gifts to his siblings into a petty, angry god bent on chaos and destruction of his siblings' domains.

What brings on this transformation? The gift of a song.

He is so enraged that his siblings gave him a song instead of a physical item like he gave them that he goes into a rage, evicts himself from the metaphorical house, and goes to live in the bowels of the world where he can forge in peace. He goes on to create all the various fantasy creature races in the world like dragons, fae, constructs, shadow demons, etc.

And his name? Keos. He's the chaos god and his name is Keos. I can forgive a poor name here an there—perhaps he never said them out loud—but add in that the sister's light/fire magic is called lumen—y'know, like what lightbulbs are measured in—and I have concerns.

Naming problems aside, the entire world's history and the racial relations all stem from a god's immensely childish reaction to a gift. I am well aware that many deity lore can be goofy or based on overblown reactions to things, but it feels so thin and flimsy that to prop the whole world and its cultures on top of it could not stand.

> Ableism is pervasive in the culture.

The story starts off with a prologue, which, as a concept, is not inherently a problem, but it was my first clue that this was not the story for me. In this world, being disfigured in any way physically marks you as an agent of the chaos god. Either these agents are killed or ostracized in order to better mitigate any mischief and evil they may commit or bring to their community. We are immediately thrust into this intensely ableist world with the birth of a child missing a hand and part of a forearm. The parents are killed and the baby taken to the woods to die.

I hate it already.

The author, being the sort of person to review their own book, states in his lengthy review: "Whatever you do, don't think for a moment that I'm blind to the tropes I've chosen to use. They serve a purpose and are conscious choices."

If this is the case—that he's aware of his tropes and they are purposeful—he must also be aware of the statement he's making by having all disabled and disfigured be labeled as evil ne'er-do-wells. Because this story takes place almost entirely within the small town of Chaenbalu where these beliefs are rampant, we're lead to believe that this is the way the whole world works. We get one glimpse of the outside world where it mentions a larger prevalence of disabled and disfigured individuals, but it's so brief and not at all explored that our understanding of the world goes mostly unchanged.

Is this part of Call's subversion of tropes? Perhaps Chaenbalu is indeed a backwards town, holding on to old traditions that the rest of the world has left behind, but the characters are so isolated they wouldn't know—and therefore we don't know whether that's the case. Bad news: It's so distasteful that I'm not interested in reading more to find out if it's just Chaenbalu that's the issue. I'm so put off by the whole concept.

> Every female character is cardboard, and they all die.

Centered in Chaenbalu is the Academy, a school with two gendered factions: the witwomen and the Master Avatars. (You'll notice that the sexism starts right off the bat with the fact that Masters get capitalized but witwoman does not.) The witwomen are trained midwives and kidnappers, sent out into the world to collect children and bring them back to the Academy as a "reap" or class of new students. The students are told that their parents submitted them to the Academy's care in a boarding-school-type thing, but that's spoiled in the prologue as being untrue.

Unfortunately, we don’t get a chance to really explore what it is the witwomen are up to, or what any of the women are like. There is only one female character with any amount of on-screen time, and even that is negligible. She acts as nothing more than a plot device, which I’ll talk about later, functioning only as an object for the main character to lust after. Anytime she is described, it is with delicate detail paid to her soft, plump, pink lips, the breasts, the hips. At every turn, she’s sexualized—and perhaps that’s due to the main character’s gaze being the narration we receive, but even in the epilogue scene when our main character is not present, the author continues to describe her this way, so perhaps it’s not a function of the main character at all. She receives no further development than who her father is, what her body is like, and how much she dislikes those marked by Keos, aka, the disabled and disfigured.

The other witapprentices and witwomen appear for two scenes, and by the end of the book, they are all dead in the midst of an attack on the Academy that serves only to move the main character's story forward. Without this attack, he would never have a story worth telling in a book. Without their deaths, the attack would not have happened. And even the romantic interest is faux-killed in order to provoke a specific emotional reaction in the main character to move the character's development forward.

> The characters are shallow.

While I can't guarantee that this problem is due to the two-dimensional worldbuilding, I personally feel they're probably related. There are a couple of friend characters around and a mentor that are all lacking in development, but let me focus on the main character.

The male students train at the Academy with the goal of becoming avatars, and then later, Master Avatars. As avatars, they are expected to go out on secret missions to retrieve magical artifacts and, if the artifact is a "dark artifact,"—that is, if it's built to do harm to another person, and by lore belongs to Keos—murder its owner.

The main character is one such student, testing to become an avatar, and worse yet, if he doesn't pass his test this go-around, he'll never be able to become an avatar and he'll instead be relegated to steward status, taking care of the upkeep of the Academy. And of course, no one wants to be a steward! You'd be a servant to everyone, and where's the action-packed fun in that?

But our main character has a motivation even more powerful than the dread of being a steward: a girl. Not just any girl. The headmaster's daughter.

To be fair, this book is not advertised as a romance. Which is good, because it's not a romance. The main character has a deadly crush. He even has a promise ring forged, ready to give it to her when he passes his test and becomes an avatar. His love for this girl is so powerful for him that it's quite literally all he thinks about, but because she's the headmaster's daughter and is also a witapprentice, he hardly ever sees her, and the times we do get them in the same scene, it's plain this relationship will literally never work out.

She may not know about his missing half an arm thanks to a magical prosthetic, but it's clear she holds on to the old ableist traditions with positive glee and with the same strength as a hippo's jaw. While our main character pines after her and even eventually when they are engaged, we are telegraphed again and again that it will never last, that she is a horrible person, and that she will never accept him with his missing hand. We know this and we watch the main character acknowledge this so many times that it is a failing of the plot that there is even a chance for her to betray him.

Which she does, of course.

This goes back to the author's assertion that he's aware of his tropes and to trust him in his plan. He sets up a male lead and throws the only female character at him, establishing the possibility for a romance—a common trope—and molds that romance into the core motivation for the male lead. She is his reason for wanting to succeed, and he waxes poetical about how terrible it would be if A) someone else got her first, or B) he didn't pass the test and he couldn't be with her. They must fall in love, yes? The author also tries to convince us that she is a likeable person, a person worthy of his devotion, all the while foreshadowing with a heavy hand that she's, frankly, ableist, racist, and a terrible person who is not at all worthy of his devotion. Ah-hah, a subversion! They are not at all meant to be together!

The problem is that she repeatedly shows her hand as a garbage human in front of him an innumerable amount. We the audience dislike her so intensely that to have her as the main character’s sole motivation is laughable. Perfectly inconceivable. A true weakness in the foundation of the plot that’s so profound that if the story struggled to stand on its weak worldbuilding, it almost certainly cannot stand on this. Her betrayal is so blatantly obvious and inevitable that his surprise is outrageous, and his hurt comes not with sympathy from us but absolute incredulity.

> The author’s prejudices taint the writing, and the writing needs editing.

I won’t talk too much in depth about a scene in which the romantic interest is stunned and the main character performs a grossly sexualized search of her body, but I will point out that later, the author writes, “he relived the seconds they had shared in the shadows...” There was no sharing of moments. She was stunned. There was nothing romantic about it.

Later, the main character is sent out on an assassination mission. The author writes, “He wondered what kind of a man he was about to kill - good or evil, father or bachelor - and whether the man would struggle.” Ah yes, an unmarried man. The opposite of having children. Of course, how silly of me to consider that being unmarried precludes me from having children, or that being married means I must have children.

At another time, a character who is well known to wear an eyepatch is described as “winking at him with his one eye.” I’m sorry, author, but that’s just blinking. I could have given him the benefit of the doubt that perhaps he’d forgotten this character is missing an eye and wears an eyepatch if not for the “with his one eye.” The author knew what he was doing.

These moments aside, many scenes dwell in the melodramatic, letting emotion set the scenes awash in a horribly garish light that fails to give the scenes their weight. The point of view was pretty tight to the main character, but with odd moments where it split away to document events that happened outside of that character’s view, even within scenes where the main character is present. It felt a bit sloppy. Passive voice is rampant, with sentences and whole scenes in dire need of better editing. “Myjun was walking in step with her father...” “His flyssa was caught by Annev’s flamberge...” It made the writing dull—hobbled by too many words that meant too little, and too specific of words amidst their plain neighbors that made it dissonant.

> The plot is overstretched.

This book is 576 pages. At page 250, something occurred that made me think that perhaps I’d just witnessed the inciting incident and that now the plot would begin. At page 330, I thought the same thing. At page 400, I thought the same thing. At page 525, I realized with a jolt that I was witnessing what this book would consider the climax, and I could put what happened at page 400 the inciting incident. Until that point, there was no clear indication of what the plot actually was, and there were at least 300 pages of unnecessary story.

I understand from a bit of research that this is intended to be the first of a four part series. Realizing that puts the entire plot of this book into perspective. This climax is the point of no return for the series, with a 500-page lead up. With a bit better editing and a cleaner line, this book could have been immensely less frustrating. Perhaps all these things that bother me are the point of the book—perhaps the next books in the series will overthrow some of these expectations as the main character ventures outside Chaenbalu and sees what the rest of the world is really like. Perhaps.

Do I trust that the author will do that? No.

Am I interested enough to continue reading this series to see if it gets better? No. Do I hope it does? Sincerely. I may not like the author, and I may not have liked this book, but there are people who do and I respect that. I hope it meets their satisfaction. It’s not for me.

Do I regret reading this over the last month instead of the book I was reading and will go back to reading? Surprisingly, no. I hated it, don’t get me wrong, but I also learned a lot about why I hate it—what made it not work—and I think there’s value there, too.

[soveryanon]

Reviewing time for MAG169 (nice)~

- So, no cookie for guessing Desolation with this one, but big kudos to those who guessed that the episode would be reminiscent of the Grenfell Tower fire. Oh boy, what a domain it was ;; Desolation episodes have always felt extremely cruel and this one went veeerrry harsh on the torture and despair, even before the physical pain of it (as Jon said, “Some fears don’t need to be intensified; only manifested”). I really felt the nightmare-logic in this one, the feeling of being trapped and discovering/realising the rules and parameters as they became relevant; a little scenario that felt repeated, again and again, beginning badly (home as a prison, a toxic place that one cannot help but love because it’s familiar and theirs) and only getting worse, with Sabina losing everything (parents, possessions, physical safety), while at the same time… everything was rooted in something very concrete, very logical, very relatable, laced with poverty and the loss of agency.

- The edge in Jon’s voice for this one was terrifying (and so was the soundscaping, expressing what was being said), and it seemed… on point for The Desolation. Jude directly called him out about the fact that he himself was enjoying the fear but, even before that, the way Jon narrated Sabina’s nightmare really hammered in the cruelty and sadistic glee of the domain feeding on her ;; The mentions of the “landlord” were especially chilling, given a rhythmic, almost casually fatalistic c’est-la-vie tone to the whole ordeal (… while no, clearly, it wasn’t, and even if the fire had been accidental, there should have been ways and options to make it out… but no, due to an accumulation of negligence/neglect turning into something criminal):

(MAG169) ARCHIVIST: “But the door latch never really aligned properly, you see; the landlord always said he was going to get it fixed and… it refuses to open. […] The window frame never really opened properly, you see; the landlord always said he was going to get it fixed. […] But the fire escape was always really rusty, you see; the landlord always said he was going to replace it. […] Falling back into the inferno that is now her home, Sabina dashes over to the laughably small fire extinguisher the landlord begrudgingly provided; it is sputtering, and empty.”

(… Jon impersonating the parents’ screams sadly took me out of it on first listen, because the “We’re BURNING” immediately made me think of Jonny-playing-Galahad in HNOC’s “Hellfire” and the “We’re FALLING into the flames”, which was a bit of a mood-whiplash x”) It worked better on second listen, and again, WHAT is Jon currently feeding to the tape recorders…)

- Same as in other domains, memories were clearly rewritten or only made accessible to serve the dominant Fear at stake:

(MAG163) ARCHIVIST: “Next to him, Charlie saw Ryan, who he’d known since childhood – though the other details were hazy. Ryan gave him a thumbs-up and an encouraging smile – before his face exploded inwards to a sniper’s bullet, peppering the boat with shards of bone and gore.”

(MAG164) ARCHIVIST: “There was never a time before the disease, no matter what the old bastards tell you. It has always been in the village, always festered in the dark corners where nobody could stomach to check, where good neighbours wouldn’t dream to speculate.”

(MAG165) ARCHIVIST: “Its pace remaining as it ever was, it does not care for coming pains as you are torn. Doesn’t it know who you are? No…  And soon… neither will you. […] You will be someone again, someday. […] “I’m still Hannah!” you try to scream, but are you? No. Perhaps there’s some Veronica as fragments there, or Julian, or Anya, but… no. You feel the last of names and “who” you might have been be torn away and borne towards new bodies. New pages, blank; determined to be people.”

(MAG166) ARCHIVIST: “When had the crushing pressure in his chest become literal? When had the empty promise of the horizon finally vanished completely, replaced by the pitch darkness of this “forever wall of earth”? Sam did not know. Time had no meaning here. […] His existence was static, and eternal. Immutable. “Sleep” was only a memory, because even the prospect of unconsciousness might have made his present state slightly more bearable. Food as well, he knew, must be a thing, for he could feel the hunger, but his imagination failed to picture it. The only smell he knew was the damp, and the dirt.”

(MAG169) ARCHIVIST: “How long as she lived here? How long have these cramped, dingy rooms in the back of this sprawling rundown tenement been the place her heart calls home? She cannot recall, but long enough for her to grow into love for it, to cherish every rusted appliance, every crumbling piece of plasterboard, every – flickering – lightbulb. […] Sabina cannot… picture their faces, but knows that should they wake to see the state of the place… their anger would be blistering. […] What floor was her flat on again? Surely, it can’t be this high. […] Limping and desperate, she turns to see her furniture in flames, the bookshelves full of memories, that she can’t quite place [STATIC RISES] but knows are precious to her, curl and float away as ash. The photos on the wall of her family whose faces seem indistinct but she knows that she loves, begin to blacken, as the glass pops out of the frame.”

For Sabina, memories were only useful to represent what she would lose. (;; It’s one of the things that still makes me the most uneasy with this season: the fact that regular people are deprived of who they used to be, the memories of who they were… while Jon&Martin are beaming with their Uniqueness. People are trapped in these nightmares but, by comparison, it feels a bit like they’re already “dead” and interchangeable, only allowed to remember things and be reshaped to better fear and feed the Powers…)

- I was wondering what would be the point of avatars in this new world (if they would still feed their patrons, or be absolutely superfluous, etc.). The fact that Jude’s death apparently didn’t perturb the Desolation domain very much tends to prove that they aren’t necessary, so it really seems like the keyword was what Oliver said last episode:

(MAG168) ARCHIVIST: “Sometimes, for some small variety, I will allow Danika to brush against another root: the final fate of someone she loves. […] And with each one, she knows her steps forward bring closer not only her own end, but all of theirs. Time walks forward with her, but she has not the strength to stop it. Her fate draws ever-nearer, filling me with the joy of watchful fear, but also my own concerns.”

(MAG169) ARCHIVIST: It’s a maze in there, deliberately so. People running, desperately struggling for fire escapes only to find them blocked. … We won’t get lost, though. I know the route. […] “Do you smell smoke? Do you smell… the creeping ruin of a life, a stalking creature of unmaintained electricals, of cheap insulation, of cut-corners and missing fire alarms and unenforced safety regulations? Do you see it creeping under the door to your bedroom as you sleep, the burning coals of its eyes, regarding you in the supposed safety on your home; not indifferent, but hungry, eager to take everything from you, to burn down your life in any sense it can reach? Can you hear the crackling promise of kindled despair, that it whispers into your uneasy, dreaming ear?”

“Variety”? Creativity? Diversifying people’s suffering for the Powers’ enjoyment, and above all The Eye’s? I… wonder what that would mean regarding Jon, as The Eye’s favourite, right now… ;;

- I got genuinely surprised that Jon mentioned Arthur Nolan as still alive, because I thought he had been done for since March 2014 and the events recalled by Jordan Kennedy:

(MAG145) GERTRUDE: So. Now, Diego has taken over… Where does that leave you? ARTHUR: [SNORT] Slumlording over a nest. GERTRUDE: Oh. A nest of… what? ARTHUR: Found a mass of the Crawling Rot growing, a while back. Managed to get a hold of the property before it became too big. Gotta wait ‘til it blossoms before we can properly burn it. So until then… just playing landlord.

(MAG055) JORDAN: Time seemed to move slowly as he reached for the ashtray on the arm of the chair and picked up a pack of matches. He struck one and without even looking at me, he gently pressed the small flame to the centre of the scar. His flesh caught fire, immediately, the flames spreading across his body like rippling water. The armchair caught, then the floor, and then I was running out of the building before the rolling inferno could come at me as well.

(MAG169) MARTIN: Right… I just assumed this would be… Who was that landlord guy? ARCHIVIST: Arthur Nolan. He’s here, he has a… part of it, but it’s… huge. Bigger than you could believe. There’s so much fear in there…

It had felt odd to die from self-immolation, for a Desolation avatar, but we hadn’t seen him since then, and he had lived his time – given how Eugene Vanderstock was aware that he wouldn’t last forever (MAG139: “So, me? I was born in ‘36 – I know, I don’t look seventy. But burning the candle at all ends does have a few advantages. Until you burn out entirely, at least. It’s hard to say how much I’ve got left in me; how much longer my sacrifices can buy me. But when I go… you better believe I’m going big – and it is going to hurt.”), I had assumed that Arthur setting himself on fire was because his time has reached its limit and/or that his life had been tied to The Hive’s nest somehow by Gertrude, and that Jane becoming The Hive meant his final demise or something? But apparently, no, he was still around. I wonder what he was doing during the following four years? (If it was a matter of Desolation avatars respawning in the domain, I’d have expected for Agnes to be mentioned, but she wasn’t, so…)

- Speaking of Arthur, it’s hilarious how much this statement hammered in the confluence of Corruption/Desolation when it comes to one’s life crumbling, getting devastated:

(MAG169) ARCHIVIST: “Maybe the dirt and grime builds up to such a degree that the stench begins to infect your soul, or an infestation of moths or ants or bed bugs stretches itself throughout the very structure of your home, until it feels like your skin is squirming with them. […] How long as she lived here? How long have these cramped, dingy rooms in the back of this sprawling rundown tenement been the place her heart calls home? She cannot recall, but long enough for her to grow into love for it, to cherish every rusted appliance, every crumbling piece of plasterboard, every – flickering – lightbulb. Even as the widening cracks and spreading mould fill her heart with dread, they gently, slowly, inch by inch, approach the mildewed room where her parents lie sleeping.”

… Given Arthur’s utter disdain for the idea that The Lightless Flame could be assimilated to anything Corruption-adjacent:

(MAG145) ARTHUR: Not like I can vent to the others about what a prat Diego is! Got a lot of funny ideas. Still calls The Lightless Flame “Asag”, like he was when he was first researching it. I just want to tell him to get over it – I mean, [FASTER AND FASTER] Asag was traditionally a force of destruction, sure, but as a church, we very much settled on burning in terms of the… face we worship, and some… fish-boiling Sumerian demon doesn’t really match up, does it?! Plus, there’s a lot of disease imagery with Asag that I’ll reckon is… way too close to Filth for my taste, but, but no, he read it in some ~ancient tome~, so that’s that– GERTRUDE: Well, I can’t say I– ARTHUR: –reckons he always knows best, ‘cause he’s read a few books, well. Big. Deal! Way I see it, if a writer can’t even save themselves, they probably don’t have a lot worth knowing! Find me one so-called “expert” on all of this who didn’t end up regretting all of it!

I hope your ego and convictions are shattering and that this is your personal hell, Arthur. Diego was RIGHT.

- Regarding Jon and Martin’s own domains, Jon raised the possibility that they were metaphorically trapped in their own quest, and it follows the comments about how they were outside of the box:

(MAG164) MARTIN: Are we safe, traveling like this? ARCHIVIST: Yes… Yes, sort of, we’re… I don’t know how to phrase it, we’re… something between a pilgrim and a moth. We can walk through these little worlds of terror, watching them; separate, and untouched. MARTIN: [NERVOUS CHUCKLING] That’s not as comforting as you might think. ARCHIVIST: I like it better than the alternative…!

(MAG165) MARTIN: But. You said we needed to go through these places. … Is that even going to work here? ARCHIVIST: Uh… [EXHALE] We need to go through them… metaphorically. MARTIN: Mm… ! ARCHIVIST: Psychologically, we need to… “experience” them. […] MARTIN: Jon, what are you talking about? NOT!SASHA: [FURIOUS SNARLS] ARCHIVIST: She can’t touch us. We’re so far beyond her now. NOT!SASHA: [FURIOUS SNARLS] ARCHIVIST: She’s just like everything else here, rules by The Eye.

(MAG169) ARCHIVIST: Like I said, I can’t see the future. It wouldn’t free them, if that’s what you’re asking. “Free” doesn’t really exist in this place. MARTIN: Apart from us. ARCHIVIST: I suppose. I–in a sense, though… [CHUCKLING] how much of that is because we are trapped in our own quest to– MARTIN: Okay, let’s, let’s not dive into another… ontological debate right now, not here.

… and 1°) they’re still technically under The Eye – the whole world is its domain right now; 2°) Obligatory “WHAT IS MARTIN’S DOMAIN” (a fixed place? Web, Lonely? The Institute-Panopticon too? Jon as “the Archive”, having ~trapped~ Martin?), 3°) … big Oouft because if they were to consider their quest as the “domain” trapping them… a quest is made around a goal. Jon presented it as a “doomed quest” which was already worrisome, Oliver highlighted that the current system would ultimately collapse on its own, The Buried’s domain taunted its victims with constant hope, so… if the goal kept being unreachable, but still “almost” out of reach, Jon and Martin could be trapped a bit more literally than just on an ontological plane.

- ;w; Martin is afraid of fire…

(MAG169) ARCHIVIST: … You said you were onboard. MARTIN: I was! I am; I just… thought… ARCHIVIST: It wouldn’t hurt? MARTIN: … That we’d be safe. ARCHIVIST: I never said– MARTIN: I know! I know, okay, I just… [SOMETHING SHATTERS] Look, I j–, I just don’t want to get burned, alright? It’s, it’s like my least favourite pain ever. ARCHIVIST: Is that… a joke? MARTIN: No, no! Okay? I… I legitimately hate burns, alright, they’re–they’re awful, and they scar horribly, and they just, it– It–it just makes me sick, I–I hate it. Hate it!

* Is it related to the fact that he had to care for his mom from a very young age, and that accidents happened…? That makes his decision to burn statements in MAG117-MAG118 even braver – fire that he could control on his terms, but still, in close proximity to him.

* … Actually, Elias implanting in his mind the truth of how his mother saw him, while Martin had just burned a few statements and was threatening to keep doing it, and when the smell of the fire might have still be floating around at that moment miiiight have added fuel (ha) to Martin’s own fear. Associating bad things and pain to fire.

* Wooft that he hates burns and what they leave, when he’s probably been walking kilometres holding Jon’s all-burned-to-fuck hand.

* YEAH ALSO, that line about how pain can leave a scar even if there is no physical mark to show for it? Is valid on its own but, given Martin’s past, resonates even more when keeping in mind his relationship with his mother and the way Elias inflicted his powers on him and Melanie (MAG118: “Do you want to know what she sees when she looks at you?”). It’s really not empty words, he knows from experience.

* … Same thing as the contrast between MAG117 (“This way I finally get to do something. It’s gonna hurt, but… I’m ready. And I want to. Also, I get to burn some stuff, so that cool!”) and MAG118 (“Don’t. burn. any more. statements.”) around fire: reality not as great as when plans were made, when it comes to the “smiting”, uh.

* … Obligatory “This Is How Web!Martin Can Still Win” since The Desolation and The Web were extremely at odds, and Martin… really was uncomfortable and panicking in this zone, when he had been keeping it together in previous ones (he got very afraid in the Slaughter’s, but it was the first and Martin was discovering the rules):

(MAG139, Eugene Vanderstock) “The compromise we came to… was Hill Top Road. We knew it was a stronghold of The Web, full of other children Agnes’s age. We would supervise from a distance, but were confident she would be in no danger. The Mother of Puppets has always suffered at our hand – all the manipulation and subtle venom in the world means nothing against a pure and unrestrained force of destruction and ruin.”

(Though to be fair: Martin presented himself as a “luxury smörgåsbord” for Fears in MAG117 since he was “just afraid all the time”, was always the Assistant Of Many Fears throughout the series, so it doesn’t have to be significatively a Web indicator – it’s mostly that, well, alright, so Martin can still feel specific, personal fears.)

- … And meanwhile: we went from Jon really casually forgetting that he was using his powers and knew more than he mundanely should have (the beginning of MAG167) to taking a moment to remember that Martin is not omniscient nor a mind-reader, not processing that pain (even temporary and without long-lasting damage) is a genuine factor, and admitting blankly that he’s feeding from this world, which, oops:

(MAG167) [STATIC RISES] ARCHIVIST: Help us with what? MARTIN: ‘xcuse me? ARCHIVIST: Annabelle, help us with “what”? Our–our, our journey, killing Elias, vanishing the Entities – what? [FOOTSTEPS STOP] MARTIN: Please don’t do that. ARCHIVIST: Do what…? Oh! Oh. Right, I, I see, yes. [STATIC FADES] Well, I– … [FOOTSTEPS RESUME] Sorry. MARTIN: It doesn’t… feel great, having someone looking inside your head…! […] I mean, I don’t want to keep secrets from you, but– ARCHIVIST: You should at least… be able to. MARTIN: Basically, yeah…! ARCHIVIST: I–I suppose that’s fair. MARTIN: It’s just… It’s weird, knowing that you can… know literally everything I think and feel– ARCHIVIST: Right… MARTIN: –especially since you’re not exactly the most open of people. Emotionally, I mean.

(MAG169) MARTIN: … Seriously? You don’t– … It’s on fire, Jon, it’s– ARCHIVIST: Yeah, uh… MARTIN: It’s a burning building! ARCHIVIST: Yes, it is. MARTIN: That’s on fire! ARCHIVIST: Yes. MARTIN: … Right. You are aware that traditionally, wading into a flaming inferno is actually considered bad for your health? ARCHIVIST: Yes, Martin. It will be fine. MARTIN: Alright. I just wanted to check. So. Okay. We’re planning to go through… all this, so I’m guessing the fire can’t… actually burn us! Right? Jon? ARCHIVIST: Hum… MARTIN: … Jon? ARCHIVIST: Hum… Mm… MARTIN: Jon. ARCHIVIST: I–it’s complicated. MARTIN: Well, if you want me to go in there with you, then I suggest you find a way to make it simple. “Yes” or “no”, can that fire hurt us? ARCHIVIST: Define “hurt”. MARTIN: Will the fire feel hot to me? ARCHIVIST: Yes. MARTIN: Will it cause me lots of pain, if I touch it? ARCHIVIST: Yes, though not as much as– MARTIN: [SHAKILY BUT STRONG] Will it burn me alive, and kill me dead? ARCHIVIST: … No. It can’t do us any permanent harm; once we’re out, we’ll be fine. MARTIN: You are aware that intense pain can do you loads of harm, even if there’s no any physical injury! […] ARCHIVIST: I should have told you before, so… I leave the decision to you. You know my feelings on the matter. MARTIN: I do? ARCHIVIST: I… Oh, right. I–I want revenge on Jude Perry. I want to… “smite” her. Make her feel what… [SIGH] what all her victims have felt. But I’m not willing to force you to suffer for it. […] JUDE: Yeah, but you like seeing their pain, don’t you? Their fear? ARCHIVIST: … Yes.

His relation to pain is understandable as someone who got “used” to the concept of hurting himself by repeatedly getting harmed, getting marked, and accepting more injuries to reach his goals and protect/save people who were close to him (and it’s very ironic that Martin used to be portrayed as the one “always setting himself on fire to keep others warm” while Jon… selectively did and does that too). The fact he’s feeding from this world is not a new thing: Jonah had announced that Jon would be tailored for this world, Jon himself pointed it out in the trailer, Helen toyed with him by being implicit about it – what is new is the… reverence? with which Jon seemed to marvel at the Desolation domain, the glee during the statement, the deadpanness when Jude called him out on it. It felt like at the beginning of the season, Jon was expressing more guilt, more uneasiness when it came to his enjoyment of this world… and in this episode, those were absent. So is it that he’s gradually accepting it? Or that he was trying to make a point to Martin about himself, about the fact that he is also (objectively) a monster and needs Martin to keep him in check if he doesn’t want to turn out like the others? No idea, but I feel like something is happening and building up about it;;

(… Was Jon feeding from Martin, in the Desolation domain? Martin who was miserable and afraid, coughing and in pain?)

- I LOVED the effect of Jon being in his small “bubble” of pouring out the statement, only for Martin to fight his way to get him out of it:

(MAG169) ARCHIVIST: “Limping and desperate, she turns to see her furniture in flames, the bookshelves full of memories, that she can’t quite place [STATIC RISES] but knows are precious to her, curl and float away as ash. The photos on the wall of her family–” MARTIN: [MUFFLED, DISTANT] Jon! [STATIC INCREASES] ARCHIVIST: “–whose faces seem indistinct but she knows–” MARTIN: [MUFFLED, DISTANT] Jon! ARCHIVIST: “–that she loves, begin to blacken, as the glass–” MARTIN: [MUFFLED, DISTANT] Jon! [COUGHS] ARCHIVIST: “–pops out of the frame.” MARTIN: [MUFFLED, DISTANT] Jon, she’s here! ARCHIVIST: “Her home is being eaten alive by–” MARTIN: [CLOSER] Please come back! ARCHIVIST: “–this devouring Desolation–” MARTIN: JON! ARCHIVIST: “–and she–” [RESOUNDING SLAP] [STATIC FADES] MARTIN: She’s here! [COUGHS]

* … So, interestingly, Martin could actually get him out of it this time, while he had mentioned in MAG167 that he couldn’t stop Jon. Was it because the “statement” was different: given by the Desolation domain in this one vs. Jon giving a statement through his “knowing” in MAG167? Is it because Martin was outside of the statement mode, not listening to it (so able to break it, since he wasn’t enthralled by it)? Or is it because Martin has been becoming stronger by getting in contact with the domains? Or because he actually could have stopped Jon in MAG167… but didn’t, because he was curious, too, and preferred to think and say that he was entirely caught in the statement?

(* With MAG160, that’s the SECOND time Martin slapped Jon to “get him back” in some way. Gotta love how Jon shaking him off from The Lonely was by breaking out the violins and making an emotional confession and baring his soul to him vs. Martin, getting Jon back into focus by screaming and slapping him. Different kind of powers when there is an emergency.)

* … I’m very interested in the fact that the tape recorder was with Jon in that tiny statement bubble, while Martin was heard muffled from the outside. It wasn’t only Jon’s POV: it was, above all, the tape recorder’s, hearing the statement more distinctly than Martin. It illustrated the situation very well (Jon being unreachable and following the story, and the outside having trouble interacting with him), but I wonder what caused the bubble to exist in the first place: the Desolation domain contaminating Jon with his story? Beholding, focusing its attention on Jon because he was acting as a vessel while narrating Sabina’s story? Or the tape recorder, since Jon was feeding it?

- It’s noteworthy that so far, avatars have all been able to identify Jon as the one having provoked this apocalypse, and not “just” as an avatar beneficiating from it the most since The Eye is his patron:

(MAG164) HELEN: What would I have to gloat about? Much as I am delighted by this brave new world in which we find ourselves, I can take no credit for it. This was all… you!

(MAG168) ARCHIVIST: “This report is being sent to: [STATIC FADES] The Great Eye, that watches all who linger in terror, and gorges itself on the sufferings of those under its unrelenting, stuporous gaze! And its Archive, which draws knowledge of this suffering unto itself. […] Perhaps once it might have horrified me, or given me some sense of pursuing the ultimate release of the world that you have damned.”

(MAG169) ARCHIVIST: Hello, Jude. JUDE: Fancy seeing you both here. To what, exactly, do I owe the pleasure, the honour, of being graced by the great and powerful Archivist, harbinger of this new world, and his, uh… valet…? […] Sure, I moan about The Eye, who doesn’t? But, we’ve won! Both of us. And… that’s great!

Seems like they got a special knowledge or are able to feel his status in the new world? It’s still cracking me up that nobody ever mentions Jonah and his participation, and that he’s absolutely irrelevant (while he was the one to scheme and pushe and engineer this apocalypse in the first place).

  - Gigantic dread as soon as Jon mentioned Jude, because y i k e s: technically, we heard about avatars who felt extremely ruthless and cruel, such as John Amherst or Arthur Nolan, but those had belonged more to Gertrude’s era. Jude Perry was the one who felt the most gratuitous and deliberate in her cruelty, in Jon’s era? And despite that, was mostly staying in her lane – Jon had to look her up to find her in MAG089, she never went after him? So the idea that he was trying to confront her and bringing Martin with him (… without warning him at first), that he sought her out and was planning to kill her, felt dangerous and worrisome.

  - Gotta love, about the “valet”-thing, how:

(MAG169) JUDE: Fancy seeing you both here. To what, exactly, do I owe the pleasure, the honour, of being graced by the great and powerful Archivist, harbinger of this new world, and his, uh… valet…?

* It’s payback for Jon’s “I just… er, you were a friend of Agnes Montague, correct?” (MAG089). Opposite of mlm/wlw solidarity.

* ONCE AGAIN, after Elias, after Peter, after maybe Helen currently?, it’s an avatar underestimating Martin on sight.

  - It felt to me like Jon was mostly seeking answers or a form of peace of mind than genuinely getting revenge, or helping Jude’s victims? He insisted on his questions all through their confrontation:

(MAG169) ARCHIVIST: I have a question for you. I’ve been wondering. MARTIN: [COUGHS] ARCHIVIST: Did you know what you were doing? JUDE: Excuse me? ARCHIVIST: When you burned me. Marked me with… Did you know it would lead to… all of this? [CRUMBLING] JUDE: You came all this way just to ask that? ARCHIVIST: Answer the question. MARTIN: [COUGHS] JUDE: If you want to know so badly, why don’t you just reach into my head and pull it out? ARCHIVIST: Because I want to hear you say it. Willingly. JUDE: What difference does it make if it’s– ARCHIVIST: Just answer the damn question…! JUDE: … No. I had no idea. ARCHIVIST: So why did you do it? JUDE: Why do you think? Because I wanted to hurt you. MARTIN: [COUGHS] JUDE: Because you were annoying, and I didn’t like you! So I hurt you. ARCHIVIST: And if you had? JUDE: But I didn’t. Look. I don’t care, okay? MARTIN: [COUGHS] JUDE: I just… I don’t. Raking over the past like it matters, like it means anything… The past is dead, Archivist; ashes in the wind. We’re – here – now. And that’s it! ARCHIVIST: … I suppose you’re right…!

And this time, it wasn’t a tug-o’-war of question/answer resulting in one’s death (Peter), or an impulsive murder (Not!Sasha). It was planned and controlled, and deliberate. And it didn’t feel good at all: it was really a horrible scene, with Martin coughing and coughing in the background (… and Jon not paying it any attention), the execution dragging out and taking time, because Jon was processing slowly and not… giving the final blow. I really wondered if he was going to just stop, or if it wouldn’t work, or if Martin would ask him to stop – but no, quite the contrary, it’s Martin who yelled for it to be done:

(MAG169) MARTIN: [COUGHS] [STATIC RISING: LOW AND SPIRALLING, PRESSURING] JUDE: Uh! Listen… Listen… [BREATHLESS CHUCKLING] You’re enjoying this, right? ‘Course you are! You want to use those powers of yours to hurt people, you want to murder everybody who can’t fight back at you now? I can help you…! [DIGITAL GLITCHING SOUNDS] MARTIN: Just DIE already!! JUDE: You’re… not… better… than… me! [SCREAMS] [DIGITAL BURSTING, RIPPING SOUNDS] [STATIC DECREASES AND FADES] MARTIN: [COUGH] [PANTING] Is it…? ARCHIVIST: It’s over. … She’s gone.

;; There was something very… child-like, in Martin’s scream? You know, the kind of absolute rejection because he’s hurt and because in his mind there is no other way than for the other person to disappear for him to feel good ever again? I hadn’t paid much attention with Not!Sasha, but technically, the distorted, glitching sounds before and during the ripping of both the Not!Them and Jude sounded very close to Peter’s own static (and Martin’s, when he disappeared in front of Georgie): is it possible that he might have contributed in both cases, or amplified it? Or was it “only” Jon all through it?

- There is something very fitting in the fate of avatars, lately: the Not!Them was forced to “know” the suffering of its victims before getting ripped away from existence; Oliver was not rejecting death and knew it would come from him at some point, and Jon fittingly decided to spare him (although he was aware of the irony); Helen-the-Distortion is an ambivalent case (Jon can threaten her, but they can talk, it’s a bit of an unstable relationship the balance of which could shift at any time); Jude was inflected the suffering of her victims (and desolated herself in a way). It’s kinda fitting, for The Stranger, The End, The Spiral and The Desolation? I wonder how much the Domains are influencing Jon’s behaviour towards their agents, regardless of his personal feelings about them…

- Regarding Jon&Martin, it’s really heartbreaking that they are trying to navigate around and with each other’s feelings, trying to find the “right” decision regarding choices and boundaries… and that it backfired so badly due to the circumstances and the fact that, right now, they can’t really make an ideal, non-harming decision:

(MAG169) MARTIN: Jon, is there another way? ARCHIVIST: I mean… sort of? M–maybe? [SILENCE] MARTIN: That turn…! You, you took a hard turn after the roots back there. I knew that was a thing! Why are we here? ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] It’s just… [INHALE] When you said… [SIGH] MARTIN: Jon, why have you taken us here? ARCHIVIST: Jude Perry. … This is where Jude Perry rules. […] You said you were onboard. MARTIN: I was! I am; I just… thought… ARCHIVIST: It wouldn’t hurt? MARTIN: … That we’d be safe. ARCHIVIST: I never said– MARTIN: I know! I know, okay, I just… […] ARCHIVIST: … Alright. If you really don’t want to do this, we, we can go another way. MARTIN: Really…? ARCHIVIST: Really. My revenge… [SIGH] Well, let’s just say you’re more important. […] So are we going in, or not? MARTIN: You’re– … I, you’re asking me? ARCHIVIST: I should have told you before, so… I leave the decision to you. You know my feelings on the matter. MARTIN: I do? ARCHIVIST: I… Oh, right. I–I want revenge on Jude Perry. I want to… “smite” her. Make her feel what… [SIGH] what all her victims have felt. But I’m not willing to force you to suffer for it. MARTIN: Okay, so it’s… I have to choose, do I? ARCHIVIST: Or we could sit here. [SILENCE] [DISTANT SOUND OF SOMETHING COLLAPSING] MARTIN: … No. No, I–I’m not going to choose, I d–I don’t think that’s a fair decision to put on me. It’s your revenge; your choice, not mine. [SILENCE] ARCHIVIST: … Fine. We go in. [DISTANT SOUND OF SOMETHING COLLAPSING] MARTIN: [SHAKY INHALE] Al–alright then…! ARCHIVIST: We’ll be fine. MARTIN: J– Lead the way. [BAG JOSTLING]

It was good of Jon to admit that he should ask Martin, and expressed reluctance at the idea of putting him in an uncomfortable position for his own revenge! It was good of Martin, to establish once again that he didn’t want to bear the burden of deciding for both of them (MAG154: “Don’t do this.” “Do what?” “Make it my decision.”), while it was explicitly about what Jon wanted! … But it also feels like Jon would have needed Martin to decide agree to go for him if the goal was for Jon to find some peace of mind with his revenge, and that Martin would have needed Jon to say that no, definitely not, his revenge wasn’t worth endangering and harming Martin.

(Though, I feel like Martin was the most hurt of them both, this time around ;; He sounded absolutely miserable at the end of the episode, and he had been the one to begrudgingly agree to follow Jon after making it clear that he wouldn’t like the experience… I’m really surprised that Jon stuck to the “revenge” concept while he knew what was at stake for Martin. Really hoping that they will talk about it soon ;;)

  - ;; Technically, Jude made a lot of valid points regarding Jon-as-an-avatar:

(MAG169) JUDE: You’re not scared, though, are you, Archivist? ARCHIVIST: … I can feel the pain of every person you have trapped here. My own isn’t all that different. JUDE: Yeah, but you like seeing their pain, don’t you? Their fear? ARCHIVIST: … Yes. JUDE: You and that stupid Eye, god, you make me sick! Lording it over everybody like you own the place? You’re just leeches, voyeurs, parasites on the real monsters. […] Oooh, I see! I get it. You finally get a sniff of power, and the first thing you do is try to settle some old scores. MARTIN: [LOUDER COUGHS] JUDE: Play the big man, get off on good old-fashioned petty revenge~! […] I’m happy in this world. I belong here. And so do you. MARTIN: [COUGHS] [STATIC RISING: LOW AND SPIRALLING, PRESSURING] JUDE: Uh! Listen… Listen… [BREATHLESS CHUCKLING] You’re enjoying this, right? ‘Course you are! You want to use those powers of yours to hurt people, you want to murder everybody who can’t fight back at you now? I can help you…! [DIGITAL GLITCHING SOUNDS] MARTIN: Just DIE already!! JUDE: You’re… not… better… than… me! [SCREAMS]

He presented it to Martin as “revenge”. He went out of his way to find Jude, first hiding it from Martin and then deliberately making the decision of going after her after he learned that Martin would be terrorised by the domain (but ready to follow him if Jon really wanted to go). Jude’s execution also exists in contrast to Oliver, whom Jon had decided to spare because he had “helped” him (… to wake up as an avatar), while knowing full well that Oliver had killed people too (MAG121) and that he was currently torturing victims in his domains (in creative, cruel ways for “VARIETY”…). Jude’s smiting didn’t feel like an application of justice, or as something fair; it just felt like personal retribution, because Jon has the power to do it. There is something reassuring in the fact that the whole scene didn’t bring any catharsis, felt so extremely anti-climatic and miserable (Martin was in pain and on the verge of tears, wanted to leave the place; Jon wasn’t triumphant), because Jon behaved as the plaintiff, the legislature, the judge and the executioner – it is terrifying in itself that he has the power to establish who would have the “right” to die or to keep torturing people following whether or not they’ve served his interests.

(MAG168) ARCHIVIST: I just, I don’t think he’s… [SIGH] I don’t know, I don’t think he’s evil. MARTIN: Oh, yeah, sure, he’s probably a really kind, benevolent ruler of a hellish fear prison…! ARCHIVIST: It’s just… He helped me. Wh–when I was… He woke me up. […] But I’m not going to… seek him out. At the very least, he’s earned not having me hunt him down. MARTIN: Fine. I suppose that’s… reasonable. […] ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] No. If Oliver will not seek me out, then… I will leave him be. [TINY CHUCKLES] The avatar of Death… shall live. Martin’s going to be thrilled…! [SIGH]

(MAG169) MARTIN: [COUGH] [PANTING] Is it…? ARCHIVIST: It’s over. … She’s gone. MARTIN: [PAINED] The fires are still here. Doesn’t look like much has changed. ARCHIVIST: … No. I suppose not. [CRUMBLING SOUND] MARTIN: [SHAKILY] … Let’s just get out of here.

Jude was indeed that one avatar we wanted to see disappear (since the was gleeful about hurting, that she chose to get involved in the cult and didn’t join it to escape another horrible fate, that she admitted she didn’t regret this world nor the hurt she had to Jon himself); but her accusations had some truth in them precisely because Jon had just decided to spare Oliver given their own relationship – while Oliver, too, had admitted that he was torturing and enjoying people for the fun of it. Jon’s judgement… doesn’t work. And since nothing changed in the domain, it just proved that avatars themselves weren’t the real problem at the root – the Fear-system is still in place, still working, with or without them, still hurting and feeding from people.

(… And it also highlights that, indeed, right now, Jon is “made” for this world, as Jonah had hypothesised in MAG160. He’s been shown grieving the old world, being eaten by guilt, refusing to embrace the fact that the Fears around him feel “right” at the beginning of the season. But he’s currently feeding from this world and still enjoying victims’ pain on some level – what would happen, if Jon&Martin managed to successfully revert the world back in some way? Would Jon still be able to survive?)

- We’ll see if Jon and Martin talk about it soon, but it sure feels like a conversation regarding the “smiting” is needed. Martin seems to have experienced first-hand that it’s nnooooot as good in practice as in theory (he was miserable, in pain, coughing his lungs out, witnessed Jon choose to willingly bring him into a discomforting, potentially triggering place in the name of it), but I’m not sure it will be enough for him to reconsider the idea, or to point out that… he had been wrong about it, and that the logic of killing avatars as an easy, evident, helpful thing… is actually not that simple, since it didn’t change anything. (Probably because they have to aim higher.)

I’m really not sure about their future stances regarding other avatars, because, really, who could feel as “deserving” as Jude? Jon might want his rib back, but he technically gave it to Jared as part of an agreement (and Jared honoured his half of the deal!); Daisy would “at best” represent an attempt at mercy-killing if Jon were to try anything (and it certainly wouldn’t feel good); Julia&Trevor… indeed caused the chaos in MAG158, which also led to Daisy snapping, but would it be enough to want to “smite” them? (Meanwhile, if Jon meets Simon: same as Oliver, given his relationship to his patron, he would probably just embrace his own death.)

Plus, if Jude’s execution felt unsatisfying now, I really doubt that doing anything to Jonah would feel satisfying either? It… wouldn’t solve anything or fix the world back.

- I really wonder what’s happening in Jon’s head right now, if everything was a conscious decision that more or less backfired (ha), or if there are once again influences at stake… Did he really go after Jude because, like Martin suggested, Jon thought it could free or at least relieve the people imprisoned in that domain? Jon can’t see the future, but he could have “known” what had happened to the Not!Them’s carousel to get an indication of what happens in those cases; it… didn’t sound like a genuine reason. Same thing with the concept of revenge: Jon was scared of it just a few episodes ago (MAG166: “Because I’m ashamed, Martin. […] Yes! Ashamed of the fact that I… destroyed the world and have been rewarded for it; the fact that… I can walk safe through all this horror I’ve created like a fucking tourist, destroying whoever I please; the fact that I… enjoyed it, and… the fact that there are… so many others, that I still want to revenge myself on!”), and if it had been only about revenge, he wouldn’t have needed to ask Jude all these questions and to delay the moment when he would actually end her. Was it because he hoped that Jude would regret, would have behaved differently if she had known that it would lead to the apocalypse? Was it because he wanted to check with himself whether “smiting” her deliberately would feel good, fair and right? Was it because he thought that trusting Martin’s judgement and killing avatars would indeed be the best course of action? Was it because he wanted to prove a point to Martin – that he’s a monster too, and/or that killing doesn’t feel as great in practice as on the paper?

… His behaviour in this episode reminded me so much of MAG141, however, and how coldly rational he had sounded about what he was doing to Floyd, as if it was a logical and implacable course of action; so I can’t help but wonder if there is Eye-related influence at play. Pushing him to hurt other avatars for The Eye’s entertainment, to feed from the ones who are usually feared? For “variety”, too?

- … Regarding Jon’s powers, I had briefly wondered whether Jon was still able to compel, given what Oliver had mentioned, but mMMMmmm…

(MAG168) ARCHIVIST: “Please, Jon, do not interpret this report as a “plea for mercy” or a “call to action”. I would have offered it willingly, of course, but to do so is no longer an option. You cannot ask; you may only take.”

(MAG169) JUDE: You came all this way just to ask that? ARCHIVIST: Answer the question. MARTIN: [COUGHS] JUDE: If you want to know so badly, why don’t you just reach into my head and pull it out? ARCHIVIST: Because I want to hear you say it. Willingly. JUDE: What difference does it make if it’s– ARCHIVIST: Just answer the damn question…! JUDE: … No. I had no idea.

Since compelling Peter to death, Jon has never been shown forcing an answer out of someone again. He has been shown “knowing” things with alarming ability, being almost entirely omniscient at this point (MAG164: “Okay. So… how much can you see? What else do you know?” “Uh… Maybe everything…!”), whether it’s prompted by someone’s questions (as Martin demonstrated) or Jon just knowing things on his own accord. He has demonstrated a new way to deal with “statements”: getting filled with the Fears suffusing his surroundings, and having to “pour out” these statements into the tape recorder (MAG162: “This cabin. It’s not right. And, when I thought that, I–I felt… It, it all poured out of me down… into the tape.”). He has manifested his new Eye-related ability to turn the Feared into the Fearful, eradicating monsters and avatars (MAG166: “But The Eye still rules. All this fear is being performed for its benefit. And so, there are now exactly two roles available in this new world of ours: the watcher, and the watched. Subject, and object. Those who are feared, and those who are afraid. And Jon, well… he is part of The Eye; a very important part. And he’s able to, shall we say… shift its focus. Turn the one into the other.”). But compulsion as the act of asking a question and forcing an answer out of someone? Nothing since the beginning of the season. It might be nothing, but Oliver has always known so much about Jon and his situation, and Jude directly made a reference to that power when Jon didn’t use it, so… it could indeed be a thing.

(Or it’s also possible that, after Peter resisted compulsion to the point of dying, Jon fears that ability and what it could do, and purposefully stopped using it?)

MAG170’s title is… MmMMmm. If this an episode regarding a territory, I would say Spiral or Flesh (… and Jared in particular). It could also be about things outside of a domain, like what happened with “Curiosity” – and then, I’d see ways for it to be an outside POV (Jonah? Annabelle?) and/or other characters coming back (Georgie&Melanie? Basira? … stumbling upon/finding Daisy…?). And/or Martin talking about himself – we know so little about his pre-Archives life, I feel ;; (Same for Basira…) There could also be a way to connect with something mentioned about Agnes in MAG067…

(… It’s also making me think of Albrecht’s library / the Black Forest crypt and what Jonah did of the books…)

[kinetic-elaboration]

October 25: 1x20 Court Martial

Now that Chopped is done I am free to watch TOS again. Today’s ep: Court Martial, a wonderful combination of two of my favorite things: Captain Kirk and Legal Stuff.

Look at that backdrop. I forgot how many Very 50′s backgrounds they had in this show.

The Intrepid is here for repairs! Such a lost opportunity to show more Vulcans in Starfleet.

I don’t entirely get why the Commodore has his own special transport pad. I guess it must allow him to beam himself places without the use of a ship but like... to where is he beaming?

Lol that absolutely terrible sailor suit outfit on the little girl. I can only assume it’s a school uniform as it’s the only thing she ever wears.

Can you believe how this whole episode is based, essentially, around allegedly broken regulations? I mean I know it’s more than that and they do a good job explaining why it’s bad to eject the pod early (”when there is no emergency”) but like, essentially, the underlying conditions of emergency are not in Kirk’s control. It’s possible to just skip officially calling the emergency while nevertheless acting in a way that is appropriate for an emergency, and so it comes down to “did he first declare the emergency officially and then act in accordance with the declared emergency or did he just skip the first step?” rather than “did he act too quickly?” since HE was the one who determined if the conditions warranted an emergency.

Having said all that I still don’t get what an ion pod is or where it was or why it had to be ejected at all. Or how Finney got out of the pod if it was ejected.

Vulcanian expedition?!?

Kirk’s default voice is just flirty; I’m sorry but it is. Even talking to his old school classmates, who are VERY quick to judge him harshly and hate on him, implying they were probably never friends, he’s All Charm by default. And he doesn’t drop the charm even when he starts politely fighting with them.

Bones using Jim to flirt--with Jim’s ex-girlfriend! “Did you see that guy over there, he’s pretty famous, and we’re friends!”

I love Areel Shaw and I’m just gonna say I think she’s my favorite Kirk girlfriend.

Charged with culpable negligence. As opposed to...not culpable negligence?

When he was a midshipman...

What’s with all these professor & student friendships??

I cannot believe part of the Finney & Kirk backstory is that he literally named his daughter after Kirk. Like that’s so intense! I feel like it kind of changes everything but I can’t entirely untangle how.

This “I can’t believe you filed a report about my error” backstory is literally the beginning of STID except Kirk is the Spock of this scenario.

Star Trek: Law and Order. Bum bum.

This whole idea of pitting Kirk against a computer is clever in that people to this day are like “but computers are infallible?” but also dumb because Kirk >>> Computer obviously.

Having drinks with the ex and he turns the charm up to 11.

All of this is wildly unethical, from her telling him about the prosecution’s case, to her BEING the prosecution.

I actually read an article recently about this isn’t, or shouldn’t be, her job as prosecutor, to drum him out of the service in disgrace. Her job should be to find the truth in a more neutral way.

Wtf are all these totally useless federal reporters doing here?

I’m a pro-book person but this is a HILARIOUS anti-computer speech. Like--the law is in the computer dude! It is! It’s the same law as in the books. Intergalactic Westlaw is available to you. And then he goes off on this weird rant about Moses, like--dude, Moses isn’t in the reporters OR Westlaw OR whatever Starfleet code is actually at issue here.

Kirk likes him though.

Shaw in the dress uniform with the long skirt hot damn.

Not even the computer can pronounce Spock’s full name. And he’s been demoted again.

Vulcanian Scientific Legion of Honor.

Spock isn’t having any of this. “I don’t dispute it. I just... actually I do dispute it because it’s nonsense.”

His entire testimony is the equivalent of “You don’t have all the facts.” / “Which are?” / “I love him.”

The defense doesn’t need to question him because he’s already testified for the defense.

This is such a hilarious use of McCoy. For the first time ever we’re told he’s actually a psychologist on top of being a surgeon and GP and then his whole testimony isn’t even really medical? It’s just like wild speculation, which being a doctor and an “expert in psychology” somehow qualifies him to provide?

I love how Kirk’s service record just goes on and on and on. Areel doesn’t do herself any favors objecting to it; that just draws attention to it. As the defense lawyer knows by insisting it continuing and then cutting it off for being comically long.

Kirk: “I can be level-headed in an emergency. This wasn’t my first rodeo.”

This chair design is SO BAD. I know it needs to be like this for the plot but omg putting the pod release button on the chair at all (like does the captain have to jettison pods a lot?) and then especially directly under the red alert button, and then putting both of them just out there without any kind of cover or anything--that’s just waiting for someone to lean on his chair arm and make a deadly mistake.

Also nothing else is even labeled lmao.

This is a very impressive deep fake.

This whole ion storm does not really seem like a scary emergency situation lol. It seems like Kirk and everyone else are basically keeping their heads.

“You may be able to beat your next Captain at chess” Kirk as chess master confirmed.

“I didn’t realize how close you and my father were even though I was literally named after you.”

Obligatory Bones accuses Spock of not caring about Jim scene.

“Why thank you, Doctor, my blood is very cold.”

I can’t believe Spock programmed the computer to play chess with him. Probably so he could practice for Jim.

The lawyer’s outfit is hilarious: little pocket for a pen in front. Is he... a civilian lawyer? Is that even allowed?

Here is talking about the Bible again. And the Magna Carta. First, it’s always funny when a bunch of real things are followed by some fake science fiction things. And second, he’s pretty obviously just talking about the Constitution, and like maybe a very tiny bit about the Magna Carta. There’s no right to counsel in the Bible.

Really glad to know the Martians care about the right to an attorney though. And that the Alpha 3 Colonies protect the right of confrontation.

I bet Spock is unimpressed with this Drama.

Why did they change out of their dress uniforms?

How convenient that Finney was one of only three people who could change the computer. I mean I guess this is a permissions thing--but why would the records officer have that? Not that I know what a records officer is.

“White noise device” you can’t fool me, that’s a microphone.

Also another hilarious use of McCoy. Do they really NEED the ship’s surgeon to put a microphone against people’s chests? “Don’t mind me, just stealing your heartbeats.”

Like the general concept of this is nifty story telling but some of the details are....uh.... funny.

Captain’s log: “We brought a young girl onto the ship even when it’s in a dangerous position so we could use her against her father.”

Finney really was playing the looooooong game of revenge lol. And yet it still doesn’t seem well thought out. What was the next part of his plan? Somehow get back OFF the ship once Kirk’s career is ruined, and then live the rest of his life under an assumed name? Never seeing his daughter again? No Starfleet career even though it’s allegedly so important to him? Seems a little bit like everyone loses.

Lol not letting Spock leave the bridge because the court martial’s not ever. “Sorry, we all might die, but court IS still in session.” Even though they ALREADY KNOW the alleged victim is still alive!

I love that Uhura is essential personnel. They didn’t keep the navigator on board, even though they apparently need one, but they did keep Uhura.

Oh no, Kirk’s flimsy shirt, falling apart again!

“Beaten and sobbing, Finney told me how to fix the ship.” Bitter much?

Kirk, being a badass, fixing the ship all by himself.

Honestly I just really love a narrative in which an upright man plays by the rules, does the right thing, and behaves in good faith and is ultimately vindicated and rewarded.

Now everyone agrees there’s no crime and thus no point to continuing the court-martial.

He’s defending Ben Finney! Good luck with that.

I love how Kirk’s face goes from full-on-romance to slightly-embarrassed-serious-Captain as soon as he remembers, hey, I really AM on the bridge!

“She’s a very good lawyer.” / “Obviously.”

This was such a good Kirk episode, both for showing off all his good qualities, and for getting some interesting insight into his character. He strikes me as the kind of person who, because he’s so by-the-book, and because he’s smart and successful, inspires jealousy in other people, and thus has a lot of strained acquaintanceships--like with the other men at the bar. But he also has these really, really strong friendships and relationships: Areel Shaw, Spock and McCoy, and even Finney. I feel like he’s probably rather awkward with most people, but then when the relationship is established, he’s ride or die. And, he doesn’t hold grudges. I don’t think he really knew how upset Finney was about what happened literally 10+ years ago--especially if he had any say at all about Finney serving on his ship, and I suspect he could have at least vetoed him. And even after Finney tried to disgrace him and then actually kill him, he still didn’t seem to upset about it, or about his lawyer turning around and defending Finney.

I think Kirk likes the military in part because it gives him this very strict set of rules about interacting with other people, so he doesn’t have to make up his own. I bet the intensity of the service also allows him to form these stronger relationships, which do seem to suit him better. And when he doesn’t have anything else to fall back on, he INVARIABLY pulls out the charm: he does it with old classmates, random 21st century pilots, immortal teenage girls, and actual love interests. It’s his default mode. I think that makes sense for someone who’s very ambitious, very precise, very nerdy, very rules-oriented, and whose default mode as a young man, by his own admission, was “grim.”

Wow it is so much later than anticipated... I need to get to sleep!

Next ep is Return of the Archons, which I’ve only seen once and don’t remember super well. I think it’s a ‘society ruled by computers’ thing, which is fine. Maybe not as much of a classic as some other S1 eps, but it should be fun anyway.

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

Taking in the sights of Golden City

The Golden City sure is bright! Everything about it is so fascinating - the architecture, the roads, the trees - the place doesn't seem real. From traveling via whale taxi to the floating buildings and crystalline gazebos, it's no wonder Golden City is on top of many people's must see places before they die - mine included.

Seeing that Golden City seems to be in a world of its own, I never expected to run across a familiar face there - especially one who's currently in the process of renovating an old building to turn into her very own company. I've heard rumors but to see it actually happen - it seems so unreal.

Who would've thought that Ginko Okabe, director of a big marketing company, would start her own thing? And her business partner happens to be Benji Yoshino, a big hotshot tech genius. They crossed paths when Benji met up with the higher ups at Ginko's old workplace and at the time he happened to be acquainted with Manaka. Throw in Shiran then you've got three unlikely people who somehow ended up being friends with such a high profile figure.

Ginko's been super busy with the move from the metropolitan, strictly business city of Hailstorm Bay to the glowing, almost otherworldly place of Golden City. Now that her apartment's all set, the next step is getting the office building ready. So she and her friends have been busy with that for the past week.

With things moving smoothly, Ginko figured that they could all use a break. After all, it's not easy taking an hour long train to Golden City after a 9 to 5 shift to help clean up an old building as well as move furniture. She didn't expect her former coworkers to step up like that but they wouldn't let her hire a bunch of strangers to put her office together. With her giving them an opportunity to leave their monotonous, unfulfilling, (and sometimes toxic) work environment to be a part of her team, doing the heavy lifting was their way of thanking her.

Before heading out to meet up with Benji and Shiran, Ginko gave us a tour of the office. It's one thing to see snippets of the renovation on social media, it's another to see how much progress has been made in a week. What was once an old, run down building will soon be bustling with activity.

After seeing the office, we headed to the cafe and caught up with Benji and Shiran. They've been dating for a while but it wasn't until recently they were open about it. We all kinda suspected it so it wasn't a surprise when they made it official. First Manaka, now Shiran, what is it about diligent working class accountants that would draw in a wealthy, head in the clouds, tech genius like Benji?

How the former accountant and the eccentric millionaire came to be together is one of those stories where it all came down to chance. Benji first met Manaka through skydiving classes. Then they ran into each other again by chance on the streets around the same time he was installing a new security system for the company. Eventually word got out about their relationship, forcing Manaka to lay low for a while - which is partly why he and Shiran kept things under wraps for a long time. While they got along well, they didn't always meet eye to eye, especially about their futures. Manaka wanted stability while Benji jumped from one thing to another - it wasn't meant to be.

Running into Shiran was also a chance encounter. Shiran was interested in Manaka but the feeling wasn't mutual. The two met in college and ended up working in the same place, but aside from the office, they rarely saw each other outside of that. It took a while but Shiran was able to accept that while he and Manaka grew to become good friends, a romance wasn't in the cards for them.

Shiran and Benji literally bumped into each other on the streets and from there an unlikely friendship came about. Shiran was in awe of Benji at first because of his achievements, then slightly jealous when he found out he was dating Manaka, and then cool with him after the mutual breakup. Ginko was surprised to find them causally hanging out together. Soon the duo became a trio.

Things haven't been the same since Manaka's death. A series of workplace safety violations resulted in an explosion that injured many, even killing a few. Manaka, Shiran, and three other people were trapped in the basement, which was on the verge of collapsing, complicating the rescue. All five were rescued and taken to the hospital, where Manaka later died of her injuries. It happened suddenly, totally unexpected as she was fully conscious, alert, and walking when they found her.

Shiran fell into a deep depression for a while, leading to other problems. Ginko struggled a lot too but did her best to not let that affect her work. She later admitted that trying to do damage control over what happened was the hardest thing she ever did, one that made her completely disillusioned with the company. Benji, Ami and Karrie were grieving as well but kept a brave face in public.

Benji was the one who helped Shiran get back on his feet. He said that his biggest regret was not reaching out to Manaka after the breakup. While they were cool with each other and wanted to stay friends, they didn't do a good job of keeping in contact. Benji was out of town when the explosion happened and flew in as soon as he heard, planning to visit Manaka and Shiran at the hospital the next morning.

Just when all of that was behind them, an investigation of Manaka's death reopened the pain and grief for all of them. Apparently the doctor who treated her is on trial as several of his patients have died due to negligence in the past few years. In other words, the deaths of Manaka and many others could've been easily prevented if they had proper medical care. It's already bad enough that she died in a freak accident that shouldn't have happened, and now we find out that her death could've been avoided all together.

Just thinking about all that - damn. Manaka was sweet and spunky, a bit on the obedient and passive side, but always one to go out and try new things. I never understood why she always got the short end of the stick at work - and she certainly never deserved to have her life cut so short like this. Whenever I think about her, I can't help but wonder why the universe can be so unfair at times.

So with the thing going on with the doctor, people are being questioned and such, like Manaka's parents and Shiran for example. Thankfully Shiran doesn't have to testify or anything but the whole thing brought back painful memories for everyone. Shiran admitted that he's still a bit shaken up but he'll be fine. Benji's been like a rock for him, which is good.

Ginko said that since [redacted], Benji has come down to earth, or so others like to say. He's still got his head in the clouds, though no longer floating aimlessly in the sky - Manaka gave him some much needed perspective. He may be an eccentric billionaire with too much free time on his hands who is constantly daydreaming, but when he wants to make an effort, to make a change, to help a friend, he gives it his all.

It's clear how much he still loves Manaka, how she helped him shape up after spending most of his time doing whatever without much of a care. It's also clear how much he loves Shiran - the dedication it took to get him out of a bad place, he didn't have to put himself out there but he chose to. And from what I heard, it was a rough time all around - blackouts, alcohol, sleepless nights, listlessness, apathy - a continuous downward spiral for Shiran.

Since everyone was so busy with the move, Ginko and the guys didn't really have the chance to really explore Golden City. So I figured that now's a good time since we're all here and can experience the wonders of the city together.

First of all, riding the whale taxis is like floating on a cloud. We can choose to have our taxi act as a tour guide - which we did - and that made things a lot more fun! With public transportation as reliable and entertaining as this, who needs to spend extra money on cars? Our whale taxi was so sweet and informative - I can easily spend a day listening to them ramble on about Golden City - not that we haven't already! Because we enjoyed the tour so much, Benji had us booked with them for tomorrow so we have that to look forward to.

The floating gazebos are a must see in Golden City according to many reviews. Made from the finest environmentally safe materials, these gazebos were all built by hand, created to be enjoyed by all, whether it's to appreciate the architecture, hang out with friends, have some time to yourself or to gaze into the horizon. I think my favorite is the Prosperity Cliff gazebo, which overlooks the ocean, giving you a clear view of the mountains and islands. Prosperity Cliff isn't as busy this time of year because it's kinda chilly so it's nice to have the place to ourselves.

Maybe someday when we make another trip during the fall or spring we can take a trip up to the mountains. We probably won't be able to go far since it's kinda rough up there but I've heard there's some good spots for a picnic, a short hike, and maybe a swim depending on the time of day.

Of course, in between sightseeing and shopping we stopped by to enjoy the local cuisine. There's a lot of Japanese fusion places - including a Japanese-Cambodian one, which is one of Ginko's go-to restaurants for takeout because the sushi is top notch along with the soups - so that was an adventure as well!

Our plan was to get back to the hotel by eleven but of course we got distracted and spent an hour at the park watching the fireworks show. Shiran ended up missing the last train, though it's not a big deal as he usually crashes at Benji's place. By the time Daisy Jane and I got back to the hotel it was past one, which isn't too late by our standards. Good thing we won't be meeting up with the others until eleven tomorrow as that's morning for all of us.

Totally looking forward to more sights and wonders to enjoy tomorrow!

[heartslogos]

the declassified texts of the inquisition’s elite [137]

(708):  LOOK AT HOW SMOOTH THIS BITCH IS - (206):  you told me I was being patronizing because I didn't want you to run barefoot across a construction site -

Josephine quickly tries to grab Leliana’s hand, shooting her a furious look as Leliana neatly dodges Josephine’s hand and continues to text.

“We are in the middle of a courtroom, observing one of the most critical cases we’ve ever had to present,” Josephine hisses, subtly looking around to make sure no one can see them. “You cannot be texting in here. Your phone shouldn’t even be on.”

“I’m the head of intelligence, asking me to turn my phone off is like asking me to practice workplace negligence,” Leliana replies, covering her mouth with a hand and faking a demure sneeze. “Besides. We both know that we have this one. I’ll admit, they got some good lawyers. But the jury clearly isn’t buying any of it and the judge looks half a second away from having the stenographer throw out the record as garbage and calling this thing off.”

“I’d rather that not flip by having us called in contempt and being removed from the room because you’re on your phone.”

“We’re just audience members, Josie.”

“We’re audience members who are part of the claimant,” Josephine pinches Leliana’s arm. “Who are you texting?”

“It’s the group text,” Leliana replies, making her phone disappear to some hidden pocket on her person. “Apparently everyone who isn’t currently on a mission is watching the courtroom stream, or at least they have it on the background.”

“Do they not have anything better to do?”

“They need background noise. And we have several people who are very good at multitasking. In fact, several people who achieve their best results only when multitasking.” Leliana glances around the courtroom. “And they’re right. Their commentary is spot on.”

“Who said what about whom?”

“Ah, that would be Sera saying what we’re all thinking regarding the defense’s opening remarks. And everyone agreeing and adding on. I’m starting to wonder if maybe we should have them all take some sort of legal training. They seem to be very, very good at understanding both rhetoric and the language of the law.”

“Leliana, half of them have dedicated a majority of their lives to cleverly subverting the law, the other half have spent their lives enforcing the law. If they weren’t good and understanding laws and the various ways they’re manipulated then I’d be worried we hired the wrong people.”

“Hired is a strong word. We didn’t hire them so much as they happened to be around us or showed up uninvited, did things that benefited us, and then just never left. And eventually we decided to pay them and give them housing and various fancy job titles.”

“Leliana.”

“For your reference, that’s also how we ended up with Morrigan when I was working with Neria.”

“Leliana!”

“Keep it down, Josephine. We’re in a court room!”

-

“I’m sorry that I didn’t want you to lose a foot to gangrene or die from tetanus. Next time I’ll keep my concerns in check and stop worrying about you so visibly,” Evelyn says as Mahanon scowls at Max. “And next time I’ll also ask Max not to care too.”

“But if Max doesn’t care about things he isn’t Max anymore,” Kaaras points out.

“I’m country,” Mahanon says, “I’ve run across garbage dumps without shoes on.”

“He’s got the leathery soles of some kind of lizard,” Ellana pitches in. “He could step on a thumb tack and wouldn’t know.”

“As if you’re any different from me.”

“I have beautiful feet.”

“We’re twins, they’re the same feet.”

“No they aren’t.”

“Twins! They’re the same.”

“Fraternal, not identical!”

“Before this becomes a conversation about feet and I get repulsed into another room,” Max interrupts the bickering siblings, “Can we get to the point where Mahanon tells us about what he found? In relation to evidence regarding our current case file?”

“The usual. Tax fraud, blatant disregard for worker safety, abuse of minorities, improper business bidding, siphoning of resources, nepotism, and gross misconduct,” Mahanon waves a hand. “Did you actually need me to itemize it? Name any sort of abuse off the top of your head. It’s there and we can bring it up in court.”

“You’re being lazy,” Max accuses. “You have to actually give a report, you know.”

“Excuse me? What are you accusing me of being?” Mahanon fixes his eyes onto Maxwell who lets out a soft squeak.

“You can’t just say accuse them of whatever,” Evelyn says in her cousin’s defense. “Sure, most of it’s going to stick because evidence will come up for it. But you need to be specific first so it doesn’t look like we’re throwing spaghetti at the wall and hoping something sticks, only to find out the entire lasagna tray sticks.”

“Are you hungry?” Kaaras asks Evelyn as he puts a hand on Mahanon’s shoulder. “He’s right you know. Just because it’s true that we could accuse them of literally anything and have it be true because they’re so corrupt doesn’t mean you don't have to actually say it.”

Mahanon rolls his eyes. “If I have to list very single transgression they had on site we’ll be here for hours.”

“Unfortunate, but that’s our job. This isn’t new and you should’ve have expected us doing this,” Evelyn says. “Though I don’t know what your sister is doing here. She’s not part of this that I know of. Ellana, don’t you have something else to do?”

Ellana checks her watch. Then she pulls her sleeve back to check a second watch. “Oh, my pie should be about done. Be back soon!”

“Why does your sister have two watches on one arm?” Evelyn asks as Ellana dashes out of the room.

“One’s for here, the other’s for some other thing she’s handling in a different time zone,” Mahanon waves a dismissive hand. “Doesn’t matter. It changes. Don’t ask me why she doesn’t just use her phone’s world clock. Apparently she requires the tactile feeling of looking at a watch for the numbers to register. I don’t get it. But I’m not going to do anything about it. Not that I could. She’s impossible.”

[buzzdixonwriter]

The Love Of Money As The Root Of All Evil

“Should any political party attempt to abolish social security, unemployment insurance and eliminate labor laws and farm programs, you would not hear of that party again in our political history. There is a tiny splinter group, of course, that believes that you can do these things. Among them are a few Texas oil millionaires, and an occasional politician or businessman from other areas. Their number is negligible and they are stupid.” -- Dwight David Eisenhower

People love their money.

They love their bargains.

They’ll rush to Wal-Mart to buy a plastic bowl for $1 rather than one at a local mom & pop shop for $1.50.

Of course, very little of that $1 they spent at Wal-Mart stays in their community -- a few pennies in the form of low wages, but then we have to add our tax money going for SNAP cards because Wal-Mart’s employees often don’t make enough to live on.

Not like the mom & pop shop, where the 50-cents extra they charged pretty much stayed in the community:  They paid for their house, they bought their kids clothes, put food on their table…

Mom & pop?  Working for Wal-Mart now.

Living in a cramped apartment, not that nice house they dreamed of retiring in.

The stores and businesses that depended on them spending their income in town?

Most of them have gone under, absorbed by Wal-Mart and other big box multi-national conglomerations.

As much as the moral scolds like to tell us Rome fell because they were decadent, the truth is Rome at its gladiatorial / orgy worse was Rome at the peak of its power and influence.

It fell after it split apart.

And it split apart because the Western half didn’t want to pay for the upkeep of the Eastern half, i.e., the business end of the empire.

The Eastern half needed roads and infrastructure and sound political government and armies (oh, lordie, how they needed armies) and the fat cat landed gentry in the Western -- protected by thousands of miles of terrain and sea from those who would do them harm -- refused to pay their fair share.

So Diocletian split the empire in twain, letting the greedy bastards to the west fend for themselves while he established a new empire that would eventually become known as Byzantium to the east.

The Western empire, what we think of when we refer to the Roman Empire, fell a little less than two centuries after that, overrun by Germanic tribes (we call them “barbarians” but the kneeslapper is they were Christians.

Byzantium stayed a going concern for about a millennia after that, but eventually it fell for the same reason:  The people taking the most out of the society refused to pay anything into it, and a younger / tougher empire (the Ottomans) came a’knockin’.

Without Pax Romana the Mediterranean world became a far more violent / perilous place.  Europe split up into a plethora of kingdoms / principalities / duchies constantly jostling with one another to take more money.

Oh, sometimes there were inventions and technological breakthroughs that added coins to the coffers, but mostly it was finding a neighbor who had something you wanted, figuring out their weakness, and taking it from them.

The Enlightenment strove for a better world, but it took money to be a philosopher in those days and since that wealth typically came from peasants / serfs / slaves doing all the grunt work while the philosophers sat around thinking noble thoughts, it didn’t take long for racism -- the belief that there are different races and some are inherently superior to others (and those deemed inferior were good for nothing but common labor in order to keep the philosophers philosophizing).

Mind you, there had been prejudice and bigotry and chauvinism before, but while Hebrews and Philistines may have hated one another, they at least recognized their common humanity.

They didn’t decree the other to be doomed to perpetual servitude due to their so-called race.

The Enlightenment and Christianity did much to poison the well in Europe and later in America, but they did have some positive points.

Both, despite the cruelties their practitioners ladled out on others, held high ideals of universal rights.

Those ideals would live on, and foster generations of thinkers and ethicists and moralists to come.

But the cruel side had its fans, too.

The colonies that would eventually become the various nations of the American continents (and let’s not forget Australia and New Zealand while we’re at it) all responded with varying degrees of success to those ideals.

They also offered plenty of opportunities for those who loved wealth above all else to flourish, inevitably at the expense of huge segments of their respective populations.

As faulty and as flawed as the American Revolution was, it ended up sowing the seeds for similar movements in other countries.

In France they took root just as the clock ran out for the aristocracy.

Just as in Rome and Byzantium, the French rulers realized they were heading towards disaster.  For a century and a half before the French Revolution, the various Louis would establish a royal commission made up of the best and the brightest in the kingdom, and had them examine the problem and offer a solution.

The solution was always the same:  The ones with the wealth needed to take less and put some of what they had back.

Nobody wanted to hear that (well, nobody with money) and that’s why the guillotines were dropping day and night.

Various trade and crafts guilds had sprung up at that time; al were hammered down.

Socialist movements and parties were started; they were hammered down.

Trade unions were formed; they were hammered down.

But the thing was each movement that got hammered down created a more brilliant and far tougher phoenix to replace it.

By the late 19th / early 20th century communism looked mighty good to a lot of people.

Again, the intransigence of the greedy (call them financiers or industrialists or robber barons or whatever) pushed the world into war yet again, this time bankrupting Germany, Austria, and Hungary (as well as finishing off the Ottomans, last seen sacking Constantinople).  

Around the world people clamored for more input, more control in their daily lives.

Czarist Russia -- brutal, heavy handed, autocratic czarist Russia -- fell to the Bolsheviks (who proved to be no less brutal, heavy handed, and autocratic than the czars).

Germany threatened to go down the same path and the industrialists and financiers -- who sure as hell weren’t missing any meals -- backed a crazy little ex-corporal who promised to keep the labor unions and the socialists and the communists under control.

We know how well that worked out.

In the United States, the wealth made their money directly or indirectly off the back of slave and immigrant labor, and when much to their great dismay the legal form of slavery disappeared, they found new methods of enforcing the old ways, which we now refer to as jim crow.

Poor whites weren’t much better off than their African-American neighbors, but as Lyndon Johnson observed:   ”If you can convince the lowest white man he's better than the best colored man, he won't notice you're picking his pocket. Hell, give him somebody to look down on, and he'll empty his pockets for you."

The United States was not that much better than German when it came to race hatred.

Indeed, the Nazis -- even while condemning US segregation for propaganda purposes -- studied jim crow carefully and applied its lesson to non-Germans in their territories.

The wealthy 1% nearly destroyed the United States with the Great Depression, but the gratitude they showed to Roosevelt for saving capitalism was to undercut and fight him every step of the way.

Because, hey, if it wasn’t making money right now for them!!! then it had to be evil, right?

Right?

And just as the plantation owners in the antebellum South used propaganda to argue slavery was actually a good thing for those enslaved (because both the Bible and Darwin -- at least according to their readings -- said so), so did their spiritual / philosophical / and too damn often direct biological heirs with their anti-communist rants via the John Birch Society and other front groups.

Fred Koch, founder of the Koch family fortune, also founded the John Birch Society.

And let the record show that when the Koch family businesses operate within the law, they do nothing illegal.  They anticipate the ebb and flow of supply and demand and invest accordingly.  Nothing wrong with that -- but there’s a lot wrong with what they use the money for.

For generations Americans have been told that socialism is bad, that Marxism is a failure.

And the truth is socialism works when it’s used wisely, to put the brakes on the worst excesses of capitalism.

And Marx gets a bad rap for what he didn’t do; i.e., the spurious claim that he created the blueprints for world domination.

Marx was a brilliant diagnostician but woefully lacking as a hands on practitioner.

The thing is…Marx knew this and recognized it.

Das Kapital analyzed the problem of capitalism in the 19th century.

Marx never intended it to be the final word on the matter.

He wanted those who came after him to be constantly examining and critiquing the way politics and finance work, so that both systems could be constantly tweaked and modified.

His posthumous work, Grundrisse (short for “Fundamentals of Political Economy Criticism”) were not intended for publication but rather Marx’ own personal resource / reference notebooks for his other work.

He was never satisfied with it and put it aside, possibly because he felt the topic was too great for just one writer to expound on.

Of course, once he was dead nobody cared, and it was promoted as literally the last word on the topic when in reality it was filled with what Marx himself would acknowledge as half-baked ideas, concepts he was spitballing in an attempt to find the real, underlying truth.

Imagine somebody finds some wistful half-completed bucket list you leave behind when you die and tries to live their lives according to that.

Gives you an idea of the problem, no?

But just as the hard line communists in Russia embraced Grundrisse for their purposes, so did Fred Koch and the John Birch Society for their own purposes.

Koch was a businessman who dealt with Russia in the days before WWII.

(Most international money people are whores and will go wherever they can find a buck.)

He didn’t like what he saw -- a fair enough assessment -- but what scared him was that there was something in the underlying structure of Russian society that might be appealing to non-communists.

Remember what I said about the Enlightenment and Christianity?

Add Marxism to that.

It ain’t the solution to all the world’s ills, but damn, it ain’t wrong about the causes.

Now the way the Koch clan tells it, when Fred saw Red, he realized it was a brutal, unworkable economic system and to stop it from spreading, he needed to form the John Birch Society to keep it from taking root in America.

Hold that thought.

If a system is unworkable, just let it collapse.

In fact, as a capitalist you should be interested in propping it up as long as possible both in order to rake in as much cash off them as you can in the time they have left and to make its ultimate collapse an even bigger warning to future workers.

The Koch propaganda machine has been working for literally generations to keep Americans from examining what’s wrong with our system.

They embrace racism because it enables them to keep labor costs down by pitting one group against another.

They fund the evangelical fringe, not necessarily because they believe them, but because they can deliver large swaths of the voting population.

(And of course, many white evangelicals prove themselves to be bigots, so promising to get rid of their taxes and keep “those” kids out of their schools and neighborhoods goes hand-in-hand).

They made a couple of runs at getting their agenda pushed through -- notably with Goldwater (who failed) and Reagan (who didn’t) -- but their desire to take more money by rendering all form of socially just government regulations impotent has produced an unintended consequence.

Donald Trump.

Just as the mad little corporal tapped in on simmer racial and religious resentment in Germany, Trump has done the same here.

A lot of white people are scared that their day is O.V.E.R.

At current demographic projections, come 2048 white people will drop to only 49% of the population.

The largest minority in a nation of minorities.

That means they’ve going to have to learn to cut deals with other groups.

And those groups, because they were marginalized for literally centuries, have learned to be much more self-reliant, much more imaginative, much more focused, much more innovative.

African-American culture is going to dominate the United States in the second half of the 21st century and well into the 22nd.

I want us to walk away from the precipice.

I want us to recognize there is literally no future in burning down the house to make sure the black folks don’t get in.

I want us to recognize reasonable precautions and controls on capitalism do not make people poor but rather prevent poverty from ruining lives.

But I fear for this country.

A few other empires, as they started splintering, recognized their peril and took steps to minimize the chaos and impact.

It took ‘em a while, but England managed to learn to let go of its vast empire in peaceful / democratic / diplomatic ways that enabled them to maintain good relations with former colonies around the globe.

The Koch mentality can’t do that, I’m afraid.

It can’t abide the thought that somebody else has a say in how they do business for the simple reason that those people’s lives are adversely affected by choices the Koch empire makes.

But we as a nation need to also recognize we slit our own throats every time we place price first and foremost in our shopping.

The Trump supporters who bemoan the demise of their single industry towns never seem to realize the decline started when they began saving a few pennies by shopping at big box stores and franchise fast food restaurants.

In their desire to save a few pennies, they threw away family fortunes.

History offers some grim warnings about empires that slide into this level of oligarchy.

Rome fell.

So did Constantinople.

The guillotine blade fell again and again and again until finally people were willing to accept Napoleon in order to regain stability.

And Napoleon started wars that led to World War One…

…and World War One allowed Hitler to rise thanks to the industrialists and the financiers.

The 1% of their generation.

We have to be more informed and more insightful in our daily choices.

What profit a person if they save a few pennies, yet lose their soul?

  © Buzz Dixon

[whumpqhs]

Remedy

[This is a quick interlude that didn’t fit Whumptober’s prompt list. Because I needed to do more writing that wasn’t catching up...]

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Relief.

Suddenly, the pain began to soften, still there but less intense. Breathing became easier too. Sonora gasped in a big, deep inhale, the first time she’d been able to fill her lungs since before she was given the drugs, and slowly blinked open her eyes. Standing over her, Keeper held a vial of a combination antidote, looking a bit less smug than usual. Every nerve was raw and irritated, and would be for some time, but she made herself sit up and look at him.

“You’re… giving me…”

“Mhmm.”

“...already?” She couldn’t help her lack of filter; she just didn't have the energy. “Why? Are they gonna kill me now?”

“No. But the way this antidote works, you’re gonna wish you were dead.” He leaned in close, and she leaned back. He sighed. “Here, let me help you up. You’re going to want to be near a sink. Or something else suitable for throwing up into.” 

She was expecting some verbal abuse. Some gloating, maybe a couple of patronizing jabs about how he warned her. She wasn’t expecting him to slide one arm around her shoulders, and the other under her knees, and help her turn to the side so they could try, together, to get her out of bed. She’d almost have preferred the abuse; but she was too sick and exhausted to argue with the soft touch. As he helped her up, careful not to press too hard, she couldn’t talk, just gasp and groan. Trying to walk on her legs after a night of paralysis and cramps was agonizing. When her knees buckled, he caught her and held her up; and set a towel under them for padding a little later, as he lowered her into the floor. 

“Why’re you… being so nice to me? Thought you were mad… at me…” She hated the way her voice sounded. Desperate, broken. It was humiliating.

“I was. I was furious.” He leaned against the sink. She could feel her mouth watering as her stomach began to cramp, too. He couldn’t be here for this. He was going to leave, right? She couldn’t do this in front of him...

“Could I get some priv--” was all she managed to get out before the gagging started.

“Nope. Have to stay with you to make sure you don’t aspirate.” The next thing she felt was him pulling her hair back from her face. “Not gonna just stand there and watch, though. I’m not that heartless.”

She had nothing to say to that, if she’d been able to use her vocal cords in the first place. It took a long time for the antidote to finish pulling the drugs out of her bloodstream and sending them through her gastric walls, where they were promptly flagged for evacuation. She finally started to feel better after nearly an hour, exhausted and aching, crumpled in the floor. 

“You could… watch on the cameras,” she said weakly. It hurt almost as much as the drugs for him to see her so weak and so vulnerable. She wondered if she’d ever feel like a Cipher again. 

“But then I couldn’t hold your hair back.” He wrung the water out of a soft cloth and leaned in, holding her head up to wash her face. She was, quite literally, too weak to lift it on her own. “Or do this.”

She waited until he’d set her head back down to reply. “I’m… sick and miserable… and weak. You getting… off on this, or something?”

“No. I’m a medic, same as you. Besides…”

“...?”

“You’re mine. They gave you to me.” He soaped the cloth, rinsed it, and knelt to wash her hands. Despite a lack of physiological basis, it made her feel better. Her clinical instructor at the Academy had shown her the same trick. “That’s bad phrasing on my part, but… you’re a prisoner in my custody. There are rules about that, expectations. If you die, it’s by my hand. If you defect, it’s by my allowance. If you get hurt, and you weren’t supposed to, it’s by my negligence. You are my responsibility.”

Sonora winced. She hadn’t been anyone else’s responsibility for a long time. It was not a good feeling.

“Don’t like that…”

“I don’t remember asking your opinion.” With her hands and face clean, he handed her a cup of water. “Rinse, don’t swallow.”

“Nnh.” By now she was numb with exhaustion, and did exactly as he said. When he wanted to help her clean up and change scrubs, she didn't object. When he set her down against the wall, and stripped the medical bed to put on fresh linens, she thought it was a little strange, but was past arguing. 

It was when he picked her up, holding her a little, too close, that she realized there might be an ulterior motive. 

“I owe you an apology.” The whisper was so low that she could scarcely hear it, even though his lips were right next to her ear. Too low for the mics to pick up. “The truth is… you’re not the first one to notice the trade names. The holes in my memories… the little ways I’m different. When you started picking at it, in front of people… you don’t know what they do to people here when they decide that you’re disloyal. It’s no wonder we lose assets to Imperial Intelligence. From what I hear, they’ve got nothing on the Republic’s methods for punishing what they call treason.”

“...You were scared.”

“I was terrified.” He set her down on the bed, staying just as close to get the blankets set up. “But I was terrified because this stuff you’re noticing... it’s not some made-up fabrication. I think… I think there’s something wrong with me. I wanted to shut you up, however I could, but… that won’t make it better. I don’t want you to stop, just… not in front of the others, not anymore.”

Sonora tilted her head to look up at him, nodding. “I didn’t know what would happen to you. I’ll be more careful.”

“Okay.” He let out a shaky breath she didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Okay.” With that, he stepped back a little, and the smirk was back. “Get some rest. We’re getting new prisoners tomorrow.”

He let the door close on her soft, exhausted groan.

[alphabetatoes]

Michael Langdon x Cocky Reader (SMUT)

a.n.: this is based off of a request I got and I finally finished it and I hope y’all enjoy even though I suck ass at writing smut

“Have you seen the Langdon guy? Hot. Damn.” Gallant couldn’t help but gush at the new object of his affection

You didn’t get it though, Langdon was just another powerhungry man who would destroy everything he was trying to build by his own negligence.

“I mean, for one of the last guys left on the planet, I guess some could find him relatively attractive.”

“If some means everyone in the Outpost and relatively attractive means drop dead gorgeous then you’re absolutely right.”

You rolled your eyes at Gallants comment. You loved the man to death but once he was fixated on something there was no going back.

“Speak of the devil…” you whispered to Gallant.

Michael walked into the library with a presence demanding everyone’s attention. “As you all know, I’m conducting interviews for possible candidates for the sanctuary. I have one person left before I will make my decision on who stays and who goes. This is just a reminder that trying to increase your chances of coming to the sanctuary might just be the very thing that gets you left here to rot. With that said, Y/N, are you ready for your interview?” Michael looked directly at you, causing a shift in the focus of the room and placing all eyes on you.

“Earth to Y/N,” Gallant whispered,”it’s your time to have fun with Mr. Langdon.”

“Whatever.”

You didn’t get how Gallant could be so smitten over someone determined to make your life a living hell.

Before you could leave, Gallant grabbed you by the arm.

“And try to keep your pants on.”

“Shouldn’t be that hard.”

“Do we even have condoms in the Outpost?”

“I’m leaving. Now.”

Michael led you to his room. Once you entered, he motioned for you to sit on a chair by his bed.

“Do you feel your chances of leaving here are decreased by being my last interview?”

“Seeing as I don’t trust you, I could honestly care less.”

“And why shouldn’t you trust me?”

“You came here out of the blue and claimed to be a savior here to rescue us from eminent death. The handsome prince here to save the damsel in distress is an overdone narrative that just ends in people getting hurt.”

“So, you think I’m handsome?”

“All that, and the one thing you pick up on is me calling you attractive?”

“Y/N, I think your acting like you could care less about me is just a facade to hide your true feelings about me. It seems to me like you’re lying to yourself.”

“And I think you are full of it. I could kiss you right here and now and not feel a single thing.”

“Prove it.”

Two could play at this game. You got up from the chair and made your way over to Michael. Brushing his hair back, you leaned in to kiss him. His lips were soft yet rough, like he had applied chapstick that was just now wearing off. You deepened the kiss, wanting to see how far you could take it before he would break.

He didn’t.

He kissed you back, almost longing for you to keep going. His kiss was filled with want, desire. You ran your fingers through his hair, knowing it was going to get a reaction out of him. Michael pulled your hands away, stopping the kiss.

“For someone who claims not to give two shits about me, that was a pretty intense kiss.”

“Fuck off. I told you I’d kiss you and I did. I think you’re the one who enjoyed it a little too much”

“Y/N, one thing you should know about me is that I always know when you’re lying. Face it, you would be fine with fucking me right here and right now.”

Your face flushed. Should you take the chance and fuck him while you could, or was it just a tactic to see how you would react. A test to determine whether or not you were worthy of the Sanctuary?

“You know what? Screw it. I’m bound to die in this hellhole anyways so I might as well fuck you while I’m at it.”

You resumed the kiss. The makeout session moved from you standing up to Michael pushing you against the door and you wrapping your legs around him. You tried to silence your moans, knowing if Veniable heard you would literally and metaphorically be screwed.

“What’s wrong babe? Scared of Veniable finding out? I’m going to make sure you let everyone know what we’re up to.”

Michael moved you from the wall to the bed, and you began taking off your dress.

As Michael began undressing, you admired his body. He was toned, much to your surprise. He always wore clothing that completely covered his body so you didn’t know what to expect to find underneath all of it.

Tracing your fingers against his stomach, your hand made its way down to his pants. Once your dress was fully off, you unbuttoned his pants and started rubbing his cock.

“I haven’t even started and you’re already hard?” You teased, knowing you were going to get a reaction.

“I could say the same for you. Your panties are wet and I haven’t even gotten the chance to have any fun yet.” He cooed.

As you continued jerking him off, he let his hands find their way to your clit. Your breath hitched as he rhythmically moved his fingers against it.

“Damn. That feels really good.”

“Oh, you like that now, don’t you?”

“Absolutely.” You moaned as he moved from your clit to placing two fingers inside of you, moving in and out like clockwork.

There was a knot building up in your stomach. You knew if you let him keep going, you’d finish soon. The damn pleasure ban at the outpost made you last a shorter amount of time than you usually could. But would you give Michael the satisfaction of knowing he got you off? Especially when you made your distaste for him apparent?

The knot kept growing and you knew you needed to do something about it quickly. So you grabbed Michaels hand and placed it on your waist, moving your body so that you were almost on top of his member.

“You’re not the only one who gets to have their fun tonight.”

You slowly made your way on to his dick, watching his eyes fill with pleasure. As you began riding him, you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer either.

It was a race to the finish, literally.

“Oh Y/N.”

Michael moaned your name as he came in you . You didn’t last much longer after that.

The both of you lay on his bed tired but satisfied.

“You know this doesn’t guarantee you a spot, right?”

“Fuck off, Langdon. You know damn well you’re keeping me.”

You smirked. He knew you were right. Something about your cockiness drew you to him. He wanted you. But did you want him?

[zivitz]

I can’t reblog this post so I’m just gonna copy and paste my reply. And then I have better things to do with my brain space than respond to people who are  attempting to browbeat me into submission while simultaneously refusing to allow me to participate, explain, or elaborate on my POV. So I might be talking to myself here, but it makes me feel better. To my followers, I’m sorry for the novel.

@trashpandabarnes ( @trashpanda-barnes) wrote:

yeah, abusing and gaslighting your “daughter” whose family who burnt to the ground, whom you tried to manipulate and sacrificed AGAINST HER WILL, as she ACTIVELY EXPRESSED HER DESIRE TO FREE HERSELF FROM YOU but you threw her off the cliff’s edge because u want power, because you don’t actually care about your “daughter” but are ALL about making her tragedy of negligence and abuse ALL YOUR OWN self-vicimized manpain is totally the characteristics of a fantastique dad™, ooof i could go on and on on the Gamora thing alone but then there’s Nebula who you mistreated her whole life and constantly pit her against the only person who she felt like she could have a connection to, and never passed up a chance to insult her, saying killing her would be a “waste of parts”. Boi oh boi @zivitz never fucking have kids dude if you think saying/doing this kind of shit to your kids is still gonna get u the award of father of the year bc no matter how much u claim u love ur kids, it doesn’t fucking excuse the abuse and also never have a girlfriend if this is how you think women are to be treated in fiction/otherwise —its 2018, women deserve  better than to  be treated as plot device for a self-importance asshole’s cringey angst. Get tf outta here with your apologist attitude, dufe. Thanos shows no remorse or no acknowledgement of faults and therefore, no character growth. He is stubborn and self-absorbed and a deadass weak villian. Marvel went about wrong with constantly trying to sympathize him, he’s a purple egoistic maniac and that is not an appealing character trait and should NOT have been glamorized by marvel for edgy fanboys like you with barely one working braincell, end of.

First of all, and this must be embarrassing for you- I’m not a guy. At least, I hope it’s embarrassing, because you’re making a fuck of a lot of assumptions based on this belief and they’re all wrong.

There seems to be a lot of thought going around that I am, and I quote, “pro-Thanos”. That I defend his actions or justify them in any way. That I think he’s a swell guy who’s just a misunderstood woobie. Or something. I think you’re confusing me with the Loki fangirls, but whatever.

Thanos being both capable of love and actually loving Gamora doesn’t make him a good person. It’s pretty clear throughout the movie that Gamora is literally the only person he loves. At all. In the universe. Except for himself, that is. Just because he’s capable of loving Gamora doesn’t mean he loves Nebula- I mean, clearly he fucking hates her. He doesn’t love the Black Order. I have a hunch that they started out as his ‘children’ in terms of being under his protection, guidance, and doing his bidding, but he was taken by Gamora and she became his daughter in thought and deed as well as word.

I have never ever said he was a good father, either. He clearly was not; no good parent puts their child through that kind of pain. No good parent rips a child away from their family, kills them, forces them into a life they neither are ready for nor would have chosen. A good parent (even most bad parents) doesn’t pit children against each other. Gamora had an abusive childhood, flat out. No one’s arguing that. Thanos is a big fat child abuser. He abused her (and Nebula, and probably the Black Order) to suit his own purpose. It was bad and wrong and fucked them all up royally and none of them deserved that.

Now take a step back and get the fuck of your high horse for a minute, and look at it from Thanos’s perspective. He is the hero of his own story. That’s what we were meant to see in Infinity War. A peek at the story from his point of view. Not that we were supposed to believe he was right, not that they were saying he had a point, or that we should sympathize with him. We’re not supposed to see character growth because he’s not the hero and there is no redemption. We’re just seeing how things look from his vantage point.

He saw his world die and couldn’t stop it because no one was strong enough to do the terrible, awful thing that would have saved it.  And he saw the same things happening all over, so he decided he was the only one strong enough to do what needed to be done. And he worked hard at it. He collected his ‘children’, those he could raise and train to be strong like him and carry out his work. Carry on his work, if it lasted beyond his lifetime.

Gamora came along and was Different. In that deleted scene, he said himself he saw himself as alone and he was okay with that (he says in a voice that very much says he was Not Okay With That) because he had ‘a new vocation’. Until Gamora. He loved her. Took her under his wing, trained her, challenged her to be the best she could be. Gave her a family. Thought she, his favourite daughter, would be his heir. Wanted her to choose it, choose him, and let her leave when she didn’t instead of dragging her back and punishing her. He doesn’t really care that she’s rejecting him because he loves her regardless, but is hurt by the betrayal of her lies because she was the one person he trusted completely. He hurts her, but only as much as he has to to get what he needs. If he didn’t need to, he wouldn’t hurt her (we see this again and again- he could have killed Bruce, Groot, Cap, Wanda- and he didn’t. He just wanted them out of his way). His Vocation is more important at this point. And even then, he struggles with the decision that he must sacrifice the one person he loves and again be utterly alone- and live with the knowledge that he’s killed his child, his ‘everything’- for the sake of the Greater Good.

That’s how Thanos views himself. Is that how I view him? Not really. I mean, objectively speaking he did pretty fucking unspeakable things for what he thinks in his own incredibly misguided way is the right thing to do. Did Gamora deserve all that? Fuck, no. No one does. Did he love her during all of that, think he was doing what was best for her? Yup. Was it actually what was best for her? Fucking hell. No.

I love Gamora. I feel a great affinity for her because I grew up in an abusive household, where I was groomed and manipulated to be what my mother wanted and needed me to be. I was made in her image, to be useful to her and do what she needed and prop her up. I was her enabler for a long time. I didn’t break away from her until I was long into adulthood. And yet, I was loved. My mother thought she was doing the right thing by me. She thought she was making me into a strong person. She was doing her best to make me the best I could be by her vision. Because she loved me. She was wrong about what she was doing. She fucked me up in ways I’m still learning about.  I can see both worlds: the one my mother inhabits, and the real world.

I feel Gamora. I really, truly do. But liking Thanos, being able to see how he sees himself and yes, even feel bad for someone who’s suffering even if they’re a crazy abusive monster, doesn’t mean I have to agree with him. Doesn’t mean I think he’s justified, doesn’t make me an apologist. Doesn’t mean I love Gamora any less.

And it doesn’t mean I’m a bad person. That I support abuse, abusers, or would abuse anyone in any way. I work with very young children precisely because I was abused and no one helped me. And I want to keep that from happening to other children, to keep them from growing up like I did. It’s my own version of “There are little girls like you across the universe who are in danger. You can stay with us and help them.” You make a lot of assumptions about me, and we all know what they say about that. This is fandom, but we’re all people here. Maybe check yourself before you go shooting your mouth off about shit you know nothing about.

[gamearamamegathons]

Trauma Center: Second Opinion: HEART GLASS

[Content warning for surgery and stuff! And also for suicide, a topic that this game handles miserably, so be prepared for that. Actually, let's also add a content warning for verbal abuse towards a suicidal person, just to be safe.]

Circe here! Time to fix more organs! We open with episode 1-6. Angie is really worried about this patient, because his blood tests are off, but Derek just blows off her concerns. This surgey is pretty straightforward, we're treating inflammation and removing tumors, but Derek is continually ignoring Angie pointing out that something more seems wrong. Our protagonist has gone from a newbie doctor to a bigshot episode in the space of six scenes. Amazing. Well, after we finish up the surgery, Derek hurries off to some doctor event thing, but it turns out that the patient had more inside bad stuff that blew up, so he almost died. Whoopsy. We don't actually operate on this patient again, instead Derek basically gets fired for negligence. Angie says that any suspicion, no matter how tiny or inconsequential, should be taken seriously, which is an absolutely ridiculous thing to say, because there were actually quite ample reasons to think something was wrong.

Have I mentioned that this game's writing is...uh...a little strange? The characters react to every surgery basically as if they were operating on someone they know, and while it's admirable to care about people that passionately, this just isn't realistic, because that kind of attitude isn't sustainable when you're treating life or death situations every day. I dunno if this is typical for medical dramas, but I find it a bit jarring. At the very least, though, I guess comments like this help us understand the driving philosophy of the game's narrative.

Anyway, Derek is moping outside, when he hears about a car accident. It seems that one of the victims is being taken into emergency care, and Derek knows that there aren't enough doctors, so he rushes in and is, like, emergency un-fired, I guess. Was he really fired, or did they just yell at him a lot? I dunno, this game's fuzzy about that. But who cares because this guy's got HEART GLASS! That's right, when we cut the guy open, we find that his heart has been pretty much pincushioned with glass shards, which I'm pretty sure would mean he'd just be dead. To make things worse, as soon as we remove all the glass, another huge piece just, chestbursters out of his heart, which

I mean

I'm *pretty* sure that'd kill him.

Just when we think we've got this guy all patched up, another laceration appears on his heart, for reasons that aren't even really clear this time. In a moment of panic, Derek fixes it with magic.

...what? You heard me. This is the point at which we're introduced to the Healing Touch, a rare magic power possessed by only a handful of surgeons that allows them to go into bullet time to do surgery super fast and save people from dying. Have I mentioned that this series is a bit weird?

Anyway, no time for that now. This is the remake, remember, and bit that I'm pretty sure is new to this version is a side story featuring another surgeon named Nozomi Weaver. We don't learn much about Dr. Weaver except that she's a master Japanese surgeon who's currently practicing in America, and also she's shaaaady. In this surgery, our patient's arm bones are shattered, so we do the logical thing and collect all the pieces, jigsaw them back together, and smear some antibiotic gel all over it so it heals real good. Uh, I didn't mention this, but there's a line of dialogue early on about this gel being a cure-all, and I guess they weren't fucking kidding, were they. This surgery also introduced an unfortunate complication to my clever emulated control scheme. To put the bones back together, you have to rotate the Wii remote, something I hadn't really bothered to configure. I had to concede the need to use an analog stick here for precision, so I ended up with the controller sitting in my lap so I could operate the stick and the mouse at the same time. It was, uh, a little less than elegant, but it was the best I could do. I kinda hope they don't require any more of the Wii remote's features in future surgeries.

Back to Derek. Next up, we gotta fix these little blobs that are traveling through a guy's spleen, and every time they go through it hurts him. We're doing pretty good until there's a lot of them going really fast, so Derek once again draws on the power of magic to fix it all in time. Word of Derek's dark magic reaches the hospital director guy, and he explains that Derek has a rare magic power, and that having such great healing power is a heavy burden to bear, so he should give up on it or he'll never be happy. Derek ignores him though, like any good protagonist, so we learn how to activate Healing Touch manually by drawing the shape of a pentagram in the air.

Nope. Not kidding.

Derek explains this away as him concentrating on a simple shape to increase his focus, but also fuck you, you're invoking dark magic with a pentagram. I fucking own it when I use dark magic, Derek, and you should do the same. I should also note, invoking the Healing Touch involves holding B and Z and drawing at the same time, which is a manuever that was definitely kind of a pain to configure so I could carry it out comfortably. Oh yeah, I forgot, we also learned how to use defibrillators earlier! That requires you to use B and Z at the same time also. Gotta be real careful about zapping a guy's heart and stuff.

Aaaanyway. The next patient's got lumps on his organs that keep bursting, so we gotta cut the lumps out and stitch his veins back together. This surgery actually kinda sucks, and I lost several times before I got it, because it takes a massive chunk out of the patient's vitals when his stuff bursts, and they will, no matter how quickly you work. Near the end, there's four of them at once, and you gotta use the Healing Touch to not lose. Unfortunately, this leads to Derek passing out for three days. Whoopsy again. When Derek comes to, veteran doctor guy tells Derek that dark magic places a lot of strain on the body and he really shouldn't overdo it, because if he passed out in a surgery that would be, uh, pretty bad. I gotta side with veteran guy here. Pulling a spirit muscle is *way* worse than pulling a physical one.

So then we get to Linda. Let me tell you about Linda, and how Angie becomes the worst character in the game for all time. So, Linda is a 17 year old girl who comes in with lacerations on her lungs. Which sounds pretty bad. This is a fairly basic surgery, although we also learn that we need to close very large lacerations with the forceps before we can stitch them closed. Where things really go bad is after the surgery. It turns out that Linda was suicidal, and didn't really want to be fixed at all. So Angie does the logical thing, and yells in her face that clearly the surgery was a waste and Linda should just die if that's how she feels about it.

so

uh

hm

So yeah, Angie is total scum. Let's move on and see how it gets worse. After that shameful display, Derek tries to help Linda by giving her a little pep talk, which I don't think would actually help, but hey, the guy's heart is in the right place I guess. Later, we learn a bit more about Linda's home life, and there's some stuff that kinda sucks, but, in Angie's words, 'nothing worth dying over'.

as you can see angie understands suicidal ideation very well

Later we learn that extremely high levels of some kind of antihistamine was in Linda's body, and it's not even on the market yet, nor is there any evidence she was taking it, so her body was just kind of, creating it somehow. Apparently this huge drug overdose caused a mood swing that led to her feeling suicidal, which means

w h i c h m e a n s

which means Linda was feeling suicidal because she was sick. Angie screamed in a sick person's face that she should die because she was sick. Angie should be fucking fired, quite possibly even sued for some kind of negligence, I don't know. She certainly shouldn't be allowed back into the plot as though she just got a little upset and said some things she didn't mean. Angie even has the gall to later whisper ominously about a rumored 'death doctor' who euthanizes patients, and how it's good that Linda was treated by Derek instead of that guy. As if Angie herself wasn't literally saying Linda should be dead fucking yesterday. Fuck.

Okay, deep breaths. I'm getting ahead of things a little. While the plot is getting horrible, the surgeries are getting *amazing*. After all this, Linda suddenly starts complaining of excruciating chest pains, so we gotta treat her again. After we fix up more lacerations, we find out the reason why Linda's body has been all weird and messed up: tiny monsters in her lung! Yes, that's right. We use the ultrasound to detect a tiny winged creature moving around inside Linda's lung, and it's creating more lacerations, so we have to cut the sucker out and laser it to death. A few more of these things crop up, and we take them out one by one, until all of Linda's lung monsters are taken care of.

This is GUILT, the game's made up...disease...monster...thing. It's a little hard to be sure what they are, because the game talks about GUILT as though it's a disease, but they appear to be, like, parasites or something. Maybe it's a visual metaphor? For...something? Well anyway, Linda's all better. Veteran doctor guy whispers in hushed tones about GUILT, and says that nobody outside of this room should talk about what we saw.

So, with that major development, I think this is a good cutting off point for now. I wanna focus on the fun parts, and not as much on how Angie is a detestable human being, so let's review: HEART GLASS, jigsaw bones, and lung monsters. This game is only going to get more absurd from here, and as far as I remember, there is 100% less of characters being absolutely monstrous to teenage girls, so I hope you're looking forward to it.