#also he just likes power which fair more power to him

[pinkandpurple360]

"constant condescension, demands of service, and emotional abuse."

"constant condescension": do you mean the nicknames Stolas gave to Blitz where it shows the clash of POVs from both sides (Stolas POV he's just being tender and loving, but of course his oblivious ass raised in a classist family won't realize that, meanwhile from Blitz POV, where class weights way more on him, assumes he's being condescending, despite not being his intention and not being a reality either). But psh, screw that right? It's way better to oversimplify and say Stolas does it on purpose and is a big monster, surely that's the most intelligent way to go!

"demands of service": alright, it's another part of POV clash, because the so-called 'demands' are something that Blitz perhaps understands what his affair with Stolas is like, for obvious reason, he's a goetia, he's an imp, yada yada, power imbalance, logical reasons that explains why the foundation of Stolitz in the first place is messy and shouldn't ever be the base of an relationship and the reason ppl root for it is for them to get out of this but no you all just assume everyone wants them to create this narrative that 'Stolas is in the right Blitz in the wrong' when the NOT FUCKING STUPID people don't pick sides and conclude this was a trainwreck bound to happen, fans are just waiting for the resolution (which hasn't come yet)

Anyways back to my point about the so-called demands, as I explained why it's understandable Blitz views this way, this is also not an reality. Paying attention to Stolas language in Murder Family, fucked up context aside, he don't bring up consequences if Blitz didn't accept the trade neither mentioned his power to threat him to accept it either, he offered and even asked if it's fair, someone as powerful as Stolas could control Blitz easily, yet he doesn't and it shows a lot about his character, but of fucking course you all don't care about that, Stolas is a big meanie.

and lastly: emotional abuse.

What. Just what. Everything that's going on with Blitz right now is not Stolas fault, this overwhelming 'torture' for Blitz as shown in these episodes are because of the obvious fact of the MASSIVE self hatred Blitz holds against himself, which, guess what, was actually SOLVED in this episode with Millie's help. This was not a damage by Stolas, sure, it's the most recent wound and Blitz feels guilty not for falling up for him, despite him desiring that, but he just straight up refused consciously to sit and talk with Stolas seriously because he WANTED that pompous rich asshole projection he had of Stolas (that is shown on his Truth Seekers hallucination), and talking about that, YES, EVERYONE KNOWS THE STOLAS PERCEPTION OF BLITZ SHOWN IN THAT EPISODE IS FUCKED UP, is not by any means healthy and is just self degrading, Stolas social class by itself already does that but his words towards him he >unconsciously< fed this preconception;

I could discuss Stolitz for a while and explain the appeal to Stolitz is not their previous dynamic, as fun as it was to watch sometimes, most know those conditions are not the healthy base of an relationship, and no, Stolas arc is by any means resolved, him taking the action to end the transactional deal with Blitz is just an start, the episodes are setting up so much stuff about Stolas realizing more stuff and ACTUALLY CHANGE FR.

What do you think the Striker line towards him about how the royals take everything from 'us', Blitz ranting (which is not a calling Stolas out, it's a rant of feeling unfairly dismissed and how he's having his feelings being played), but regardless, mentioning his attitude towards other imps and Apology Tour description literally calling Stolas not being self aware enough, and it's the episodes where petty Stolas keep talking bs at the start (with an Blitz that refuses to talk seriously fr)

This misconception you all have that Stolitz fans think all this needs to happen is Blitz to confess, and that Stolas has nothing more to improve is just wrong. Just plain wrong. I love both of these characters and I hate seeing an enormous mischaracterization of both.

Let's see if you won't oversimplify all I just said

Not oversimplify, but to summarise how stolas fans excuse him:

(1) Not the nickname. The fact he is asked not to say it, but does anyway. Because it makes him feel good. That is condescending. He is screamed in his face how people feel, and he ignores them not because he is “oblivious” or “tender and loving” but because he wants them to feel something else. This is wilful ignorance.

His response to his abusive marriage and family he has no control over, is to control those he knows cannot say no to him, to make himself feel better. The same way he abuses drugs and absinthe. He does it to his own staff, his daughter in the LooLoo land episode causing her breakdown, which he later regretted. In general to all imp kind, hellhounds also. This is the toxic mindset of someone with pain, who has let his victim mentality go too far. He is exploiting his privilege, which he is perfectly aware that he has. “Being part of the Goetia family is rather valuable you know”

Oddly enough, despite his “oblivious” self….he knows not to act this way towards Paimon, Asmodeus, and Andrealphus. He uses respect for all three. Ever wonder why? Him and Stella are in a clear power struggle. How they use power is unstable. An explanation, not excuse, for how he acts. This isn’t a prince problem. This is a stolas problem. His trauma isn’t blitzos fault, but Blitzs trauma is caused by how stolas has behaved to him.

“His oblivious ass and being raised in a classist family won’t realise that” hm. Wont realise….what? But you say everything is all in blitzs head and not the reality at all? So what isn’t stolas realising???

…..Oh and these…which are not even all of them.

(2) Now hang on, you can’t just “yada yada” away a power dynamic that you recognise is the problem. Stolas can control blitz. You do not understand what the sexual abuse is here. You think the fact he could rape him even more, but doesn’t, is worthy of praise. I think what he’s already done to abuse his power, is worthy of disdain. You’re pretending this was consensual, but despite how pro stolas the narrative is, even they have to admit it was not. Stolas said it wasnt right for a reason. And you seem to take his reality and his truth as the only reality, so why make this exception. When someone says they were sexually abused, you don’t get to say “Well you’re wrong. That’s not the reality. Because he loves you, and he didn’t mean it. He’s doesn’t see it this way, he’s one of the good ones.”

That first sentence is a mess. They’re demands because “no” isn’t reasonably on the table. He had to beg him not to take his business away, he said he could fulfill the bargain. You and stolas are squeamishly in denial about it. It’s not that blitz doesn’t feel this way, and that it isn’t what happened, it’s that you wish he didn’t and you wish that it didn’t, you want to pretend it is “society” or blitzs mental illnesses or Blitzs dad. But never stolas and what he did.

Er….you are taking a side. You said everything blitz feels is not reality. The source being, his trauma, and because stolas doesn’t see it that way. This feels like accusing an abuser person of “hysteria”

The emotional abuse part was explained very clearly, stolas does all of these; shifts blame, denial, shames him for his past relationships, switches victim and offender, rewrites past events, dodges questions, uses hefty amounts of guilt tripping, projection, deflection, silent treatment, taunting, and torment. By comparison, Blitz yells at him not to dismiss him, says he behaves in a classist way, makes sex jokes, and says “fuck you” these are all reactions. Something called reactive abuse which is what victims do in frustration and lack of control. Like stolas screaming back at Stella. She almost always starts it. (Not counting one scene where the start of the fight is offscreen so I don’t know who did)

“This was not caused by stolas. Sure it was the most recent wound” bit of a self contradiction. The way stolas behaved was disgusting, and abusive, his combination of control and guilt tripping, caused a massive decline in blitzs confidence triggering a mental break. As stolas’ behaviour has done to him several times.

Did Blitz “not want to talk?” Or did stolas order him to leave three times, and kick him out by force the second time? And turn his back on him every single instance. Causing the angry “im not being listened to” response stolas always causes in people. No. It’s stolas who refuses to. And as you and I both know, he has all of the power.

Third last paragraph, Viv cannot allow blitz to be right about stolas, so she compares him to a more convenient “bad” example, Striker. Ppl want to pretend the problem is “society” and painting royals with the same brush like a meanie head, and pretend it’s not stolas’ fault cause he’s just “loving and tender and oblivious and silly” This is a massive case of denial and creators pet behaviour, that is even irritating the spindlehorse animators and non-Viv writers.

Second last paragraph, don’t tell me what I think lol?. Many of the fans say they actually do feel that way, it’s no misconception. In this message you are dodging stolas having any moments of malice at all, by using “trauma” and “blitz just sees it that way” as reasonings.

[lazy-sixteen]

Still on my pathologic kick, anyway, character relationships we don't talk enough about but that make me insane, Artemy addition

Artemy and Capella

First off, just the fact that she can, has, and will psychically, unconsciously SOS him across town. We need to talk about that,

and like the fact it's unconscious, please image post-canon Capella accidentally summoning Artemy bc she and Khan had a fight. Giant, angry doctor on call at any moment against both their wills

Their first conversation where she tells him about curling up in her mother's coffin, "of course we're friends", presenting herself as still weak and coming into her powers vs. their conversation at the Cape, denying an emotional connection, "we're not friends", saying she can do it all on her own - I'm insane. I don't even think it's manipulation, I think she wants an adult who treats her like a child - not a reincarnation of her mother- but gets frightened at the possibility of losing even a drop of her control. The way she specifically denied seeing Artmey as a father.

Capella desperately wanting to be her mother and to have an adult's responsibilities as a Mistress and the children of the town's mother (the way she calls Artemy's list, "our children" - like they are both adults) vs. Artemy seeing how much Capella can resemble her (shitty) dad and being the one person reminding Capella she's not her mother and she is a child, and he'll treat her like one.

The role of the White Mistress based on Victoria's Tomb as "being" the town vs. Artemy specifically talking about the Town calling him - He'll always hear Capella's troubles and pain

And we're back to the psychic SOS thing, but like from a humorous standpoint she really could do the "projecting my period cramps meme"

Artemy and Khan

Okay this is shorter, because they don't interact much but their conversation after the House of Death where Khan gets mad at Artemy for letting him and Notkin go into the dangerous house makes me want to scream

Like not in a bad way - Khan has a point that it was irresponsible to let him and Notkin do that (as does Artemy in that he couldn't really stop them), but just ....

Super independent Peter Pan-meets-child dictator character's first response being "Why didn't you (an adult) stop me (a child)?" is wild

He gives very similar vibes to Capella in which they will loudly declared they don't see Artemy as a parental figures and don't want him to be one, while simultaneously desperately (and likely unconsciously) really wanting the safety net of an adult who will selflessly care for them - something they don't have due to their (1) weird families' expectations of them as future mistress/Kain, (2) their own hyper-competence and independence

Artemy and Andrey

This isn't as serious, I just think it's funny that Andrey has suggestive lines at Artemy in patho1 and patho2. Also is like genuinely pretty friendly with him in both (he'll give you Tyrwine for checking on Peter and he's outright help in his 1st Patho 1 sidequest)

Also just straight up, doesn't believe Artmey if he takes credit for destroying the Polyhedron

Like in fan depictions, I often see them not getting along, but I'm 99% sure Andrey's impression of Artemy is "My Hot and Helpful Weed (Twyr) dealer" - outside of Dankovsky, he's the Utopian who probably likes Artemy the most

Meanwhile Artemy gives off strong "i am choosing to barely register a word coming out of this man's mouth for my own sanity" vibes

Aspity and Dankovsky vs. Aspity and Artmey

Okay, mixing Pathologic 1 and Pathologic 2 here a bit which might not be fair as Aspity in general does seem more serious in Pathologic 2 (even for Daniil in the Marble Nest)

BUT the sheer whiplash of Aspity calling Daniil a prickly prick and monologuing suggestively about naked women at him in Patho1 vs.

Declaring herself Artemy's spiritual elder-sister/mother, keeping his inheritance safe, trying to save him from a cruel fate with Patches even at the cost of her life in Patho2

The whiplash is wild, I want to lock the three of them in a room and see what she does

Artemy and Taya

I love that being the co-ruler/enforcer/parental figure mix to one weird-magical little girl ruler who can magically communicate with him wasn't enough

Taya subconsciously yoinking Artemy into her dreams to play dolls or tell her stories - he hasn't slept in a week

Also I think it would be really interesting post-canon to look at how they are doing as the two big spiritual and political leaders of the Kin

[seriousbrat]

100% agree on the last post! James is the norm in terms of teenage boys in his society, unfortunately that is not speaking much of that society considering he’s blackmailing his crush through doing harm to her friend and pantsing people. Which is honestly the problem, that specific behavior isn’t seen as an issue it’s the other stuff he does (his arrogance is what’s mostly focused on by the other characters). Looking at violence and gender in that society and how it functions, I really don’t think James is transgressing any of these norms but falling right into them. Which again is the problem. His behavior is a product of the culture which shaped him, that’s not an excuse, but it is an explanation.

Exactly. Like on a scale from Woke Feminist King to Inbetweener, I think James would have been decent enough, average, like I said, maybe even a little bit better than average because of his sense of 'honour' or whatever lol. But not that much.

Also, I know people might not agree with this but I do think the WW is less misogynistic than the Muggle. I think this is logical in a society where magical ability is what primarily contributes to raw labour rather than physical strength. Not to get Marxism 101 on everyone but if we look at the origins of patriarchy as based in the Agricultural Revolution, the division of labour following the emergence of private property (men work in fields, women produce men to work fields, men accumulate resources) is somewhat lessened if everyone can use magic equally, and when women can defend themselves very effectively against becoming the resources that are accumulated.

I say somewhat because yes, women (cis women, I don't think we can expect neolithic farmers or Engels to be trans inclusive haha) are still the ones who can give birth. Obviously for this reason (and also because of influence from the Muggle world) the WW is still a patriarchy and misogyny does still exist, just slightly less acutely than in the real world, and women have an easier time advancing within it.

(((In pureblood society, because they value bloodlines and heirs, there is undoubtedly more misogyny. But we know from pottermore that pureblood supremacy is a relatively recent advent, certainly much more recent than the Agricultural Revolution and the emergence of private property haha. I can imagine that misogyny grew stronger alongside pureblood supremacy quite naturally. This is why Narcissa acts more as a handmaids tale esque wife to Lucius than Lily or Tonks or even Molly and Fleur, who are still housewives themselves.)))

I think there's evidence of women generally faring a bit better in the WW, such as female Ministers long, loooong before Muggle women even had the vote, and culturally I think this is reflected too:

From the intro to Beedle the Bard, which goes on to talk about 'The Warlock's Hairy Heart' in which the female character does have a passive role, so it's not like this is unheard of, just a bit less common. In 'The Fountain of Fair Fortune,' the aforementioned Asha, Altheda, and Amata are all much more useful and powerful and active characters than Sir Luckless who basically just follows them around. (I actually really like that story, and 'Hairy Heart' is delightfully creepy. Probably my faves.) James would have grown up with these stories.

Anyway this got VERY off track but for for this reason too, I think James and the other Marauders would probably be a little bit better than their Muggle equivalents, but also not perfect. Just like Ron, to whom it's perfectly normal that Hermione would be top in everything and that Gwenog Jones ('THE Gwenog Jones') would be someone to idolise, but he also displays misogyny such as when he calls Hermione a 'scarlet woman' lol. As do others. (For contrast, ask an average teen boy in our world to name 3 female football players. Yeah.)

And yes maybe some of it is jkr's learnt misogyny leaking through too, from growing up in a patriarchy along with the rest of us (and let's be objective about this, she has been a victim of it too, very much so.) But personally I think the WW still being misogynistic but slightly better than irl actually ends up being realistically relatable while also providing a level of escapism and aspiration for young girls. It doesn't feel that inconsistent to me but idk. Hermione easily outstripping her male peers in intelligence and talent, Ginny and other female Quidditch players being on the level of men and often better, and this just being accepted, was inspiring for me, anyway.

[atanx]

i just had a silly little scenario in my head but like imagine instead of nishiki having his little villain arc due to literally no one giving a shit about him and always comparing him to kiryu, nishiki quits being a yakuza (though he prolly wouldnt canonically lol), gets a new stable job and life, and then when kiryu gets outta jail nishiki immediately comes to see him just to give him the biggest, well-needed hug 😔 i may or may not sound delusional but this is the ending i need, i just want a happy ending PLEAAAAAASE

i feel u so hard we need a good ending for our koi boi </3

honestly i feel this could happen in a nishiki gets very horribly drunk, has a mental breakdown at a bar, gets therapy-talked / pep-talked by an equally drunk stranger and wakes up the next morning having resigned by the yakuza by insulting kazama's drip until kazama was too tired to deal with his shit XD

this is a very crack-y promise, but angst can ensue! :D nishiki being confronted with the fact that he has neither money nor qualifications for acquiring a job! maybe working as a host until he's saved up enough to be able to do other shit.

since this would have to be inbetween yuko dying so that he can still lose it and attempting suicide / murdering matsushige, he hasn't gotten revenge on the doctor yet, so that could be a motivating factor in what field he wants to work in.

he'd probably do well at working in the nightlife industry, as a host or manager of a cabaret / host club. keep some underground ties, maybe contribute to this whole honest living thing by helping yakuza get a proper job (i think i read that he did stuff like that at some point on his wiki article but im no longer sure)

oor the popular idea of nishiki going into fashion. which i don't know nearly enough about fashion to comment on any of that but nishiki does have drip (potential) especially if he's not at 2005-box-suit level yet.

ooooor the idea of nishiki working as an independant investigative journalist with the primary goal of making the doctor's life a living hell. somehow he ends up involved in scandal after scandal and people soon fear him for how thoroughly he exposes corrupt businesses / politicians / whatever. his reporting has steadily been getting very good and he delights in the political power his articles and the populace's favour have gotten him. he is also very hard to get rid of because HE WAS IN THE YAKUZA AND HE CAN FIGHT.

i'd also honestly live for nishiki just not knowing what to do and attending university and finding a good friend group and getting the love he fucking deserves.

i'm actually now really into the investigative journalist idea asdfghjkmjnbvcfgt i blame the judge eyes series because this idea of investigative journalism i have has an overlap with detective work and DAMN JUDGEMENT IS SO GOOD.

anyway so because in this world, nishiki isn't plotting to murder kazama, he has a clear conscience and goes to pick up kiryu when he's released and reacclimate him into society. (also nishiki totally knows everything about what's going with yumi and jingu etc and can relay that to kiryu)

yo sorry for rambling so much the plot bunny population in my brain just starts increasing exponentially whenever i get to ramble about stuff <3

[critter-wizard]

ep 43 had me tearing up in a fucking shopping centre ‼️‼️

b+w alt version that I truly couldn't decide if I liked it more . Also I included a lot of thoughts in the tags but they're somewhat incoherent<3

[biblicalhorror]

Yeah honestly I didn't mind the ratfish even though I disagreed with 90% of his takes, I just wish we could have had some payoff of seeing the cast react to him and I kinda don't get why they didn't do that. It felt like a weird choice

[vaguely-concerned]

just going about my day idly contemplating how some of the ways hawke can interact with a romanced anders are not at all unlike how they interact with leandra (and a bit of carver too, especially with a purple hawke), and then thought about my hawke in the timeline where he romances anders and was hit straight in the face with 'was he ever actually in love, or was he just desperately trying to renegotiate with his mother's ghost in any way he could' and now i need to lie down. this is the power of dragon age 2

[velvetjune]

the chapter songs in Alan Wake 2,, flawless

[puppyeared]

Atla live action 😐

[chloecherrysip]

Just Beyond My Reach, There's Someone Reaching Back For Me (speculative mario movie fic, mario & luigi centric, around 3600 words.)

[OK SO i literally could not stop thinking about this post in the mario movie tag from last week, which turned into me trying to write out my thoughts about how the scenario could unfold, which then turned into me writing a full-fledged fanfic that's over 3,000 words long??? I DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED. I've truly lost my common sense, but I just felt like I HAD to get this out before the movie arrives and their reunion is nothing like this in any way whatsoever.

This is a speculative fic of just one possible scenario out of millions, no actual spoilers; i'm working off info we've seen in the trailers/TV spots/promotions/etc, and all the characterization is based off those too, so it might ultimately be off-base. Please don't @ me after the movie comes out and get on my case about details being wrong! I AM IN THE PAST (and jealous of you in the future for having already seen it).

I present to you: A Version Of Mario & Luigi's Reunion in the Mario Movie That Would Cause Me Irreparable Psychic Damage.]

----

Mario hears him first. He would know that panicked yelp anywhere. 

By that point, he’s lost count of how many of Bowser’s minions he’s tried to interrogate as he fights his way through the airship. There’s so much shouting and clanging all around him, and his voice hurts from yelling loud enough to be heard over it, but he can’t stop. “Where do you keep prisoners? Have you seen someone who looks like me — but tall, skinny, and green? If you take me to him, I’ll go easy on ya, I swear—” 

it’s hard to tell if they’re just refusing to answer him, genuinely don’t know any useful information, or can’t actually communicate in a way he understands — probably some in each column. But he’s about to grab another angry Koopa by the shell and try again when there’s a commotion far off in the distance. The yell that echoes out to him is faint, but it tugs hard at Mario like a rope tied around his middle. Something from his memories, the nightmares he’s been having this whole adventure that he hasn’t told Peach and Toad about. Something instantly, certainly familiar to him in a way that few things are. 

His heart is suddenly lodged in his throat. He barrels his way past the troops and the Kongs fighting them, moving fast towards it.

The area of the airship he’s in starts to slope down further ahead, surrounding a huge open space that, judging by the flickering embers in the air and heavy heat that’s got him sweating through his shirt already, has a whole bunch of lava simmering at the bottom. On the other side of the chasm, there are a whole group of what look like angry blue penguins beating down some feisty stacks of Goombas with their bare flippers. There’s also what impossibly looks like a star, with a face and everything, beaming bright and doing twirling cartwheels in the air, giggling at the carnage underneath. And behind all that, he can see—

Mario reacts without having to think. He jolts forward against the railing, reaches a hand out, and yells as loud as he can. “LUIGI!” 

He can only see glimpses of his overalls and green hat at first amidst all the other chaos, but then pieces of the ongoing fight tumble further to either side, giving a clear view. Mario watches wide-eyed as his brother frantically swats away Goombas, shrieking and flailing his arm furiously when one snags some teeth through his sleeve until it comes loose. He looks terrified and a little queasy, but also very determined, even jumping in to help when one of the penguins gets pinned down. They seem to be working together. 

Luigi is here. He’s really here, alive and fighting and still in one piece. Mario isn’t too late. It feels like a 20 pound weight’s suddenly gone from his back that he hadn't even realized he was carrying around.

His yell is half-drowned out by the chaos, but Luigi’s head still snaps up, eyes wide and stricken and bright with recognition. “Mario?” He cries out, his voice cracking badly. He kicks another Goomba away and then starts spinning, searching the surrounding area with increasing desperation. “Mario!?” 

“Over here!” Mario wishes he had another raccoon powerup so he could just fly across the gap and reach him right then and there. He has to settle for taking off his cap and waving it in the air like a flag. “Luigi! Over here!” 

Finally, their eyes meet across the gorge. It’s not necessary at that point, but Luigi still tears off his own hat and starts flailing it around too overhead, as if just to make absolutely sure his brother knows where he is. “MARIO!” He shouts, his tired face instantly transforming into a relieved, overjoyed smile. 

“Are you okay!?” 

“Y-Yeah! I mean, define “okay,” but I, I'm not hurt or anything like — wait, how did you get here!? We’re way up in the air!”

Mario’s face already hurts from how wide he’s grinning. “Not anymore! And whaddya mean? What do ya think I’ve been doing all this time? Looking for you! You don’t think I could find you wherever you are, even if it’s a million miles in the air? Give your big bro some credit, eh?” 

A laugh bursts out of Luigi, surprised and shaky. Mario has missed that sound so much. “Right, right. I did think…I mean, I hoped, or…” His brother shakes his head, his voice failing him. He lets out a deep breath, so deep that it’s almost like he’s been holding it in ever since they were separated, still smiling like the sun. “I knew you would. Mario, you — look out!” 

Mario turns just as a hammer goes whizzing past his ear, tumbling down into the lava pit. He dodges the next one more capably and then catches the third one that comes his way. In one smooth, lightning-quick motion, he throws it back at the attacking Hammer Bro, nailing him in the face and knocking him out cold.

“Whoa!” He turns back to see Luigi staring with his mouth agape. “When did you learn how to do that?”

“It's kinda a long story!” There will be plenty of time to get into all the details about his adventure when he’s gotten Luigi safely out of an active warzone.  “What about you? I thought you were a prisoner here!” 

“I am! Or I was, I guess! We — me, and the penguins, and Lumalee,” he gestures wearily up overhead, where the blue star-thing is idly playing with a pinwheel that it somehow conjured out of thin air, “and the others — we broke out! We, ah, we’ve been trying to find a way outta here ever since, but this place is a maze and we need some kind of hot air balloon or one of those floating clown-car thingies to even get away in the first place, and—”

“Spinies at four o’clock!” One of the penguins shouts, at the same time that Mario yells “Luigi, on your left!”

Luigi jolts at the sight of the three spiky, spinning shells approaching fast. He jumps high enough to leapfrog right over them all, causing them to ricochet off the wall unexpectedly and careen off the side straight into the deep pit. 

“Nice, Weegie!” Mario cheers. “You always were the better jumper.” 

“Keep your head in the fight, soldier!” One specific penguin calls out to Luigi. He’s wearing a very fancy gold crown — probably their king? “We’re not done here yet!” 

“I know, I know, but look!” Luigi gestures excitedly across the chasm. “My brother’s here! He made it!”

“Good show! If he’s as brave as you said, he can help us beat back these dastardly troops once and for all! We’ll all see the light of day again soon!”

The rest of the penguins cheer, thrusting their flippers victoriously into the air, and then let out a wave of new, guttural battle cries. The Penguin King smiles over at Mario and salutes him before rejoining the fray. There are more of Bowser’s minions crowding the walkways on both sides, Mario realizes with a newfound wave of worry. He needs to get to Luigi now. 

“Stay right there!” He calls, starting to run alongside the railing. “Don’t move! I’m coming!”

“Are you kidding!? Wait!” Luigi starts running too, mirroring Mario. “I can meet you faster this way!” 

Mario laughs. “If you can keep up with me!” 

“You’re on!”

The road ahead of him is pure chaos, filled with attacking enemies and whooping Kongs and weapons flying every which way, but Mario runs. He runs until his heart burns, dodging and weaving, almost tripping here and there because he can’t stop looking over the gap to make sure Luigi’s still there on the other side, stumbling his way through his own gauntlet. The two areas are winding closer together, slowly but surely. They must meet somewhere. He’ll find it. He has to.

“Hey, Luigi!” He yells, breathless and happy. “Remember when we were fixing Mrs. McGrady’s sink a couple weeks ago and talking about the future? Did you imagine it’d be anything like this?” 

“Whaddya think!?” Luigi shouts back jokingly. “I-I mean, I imagined people being mad at us, but those were customers. There was definitely a lot less lava, and magic, and crazy green pipes that send you to places from your literal nightmares!” He laughs, which swiftly turns into a yelp when he has to dodge away from a red Koopa. The next words come out thicker, almost strained. “Mario, you, you’re really here, you — I missed you, I…”

Even with the distance and the distracting noise and the heavy breathing, Mario can hear the familiar tearing in his brother’s voice, and it pushes him to run faster. Luigi is so much braver than many people in their life have given him credit for, but he has a breaking point, and Mario can recognize it like the back of his own hand. Heck, he could use a good cry right about now too. They're so close. Just a little further.

He’s never been the biggest hugger — that title belongs squarely to Luigi, who always holds on a little too long, especially when Mario protests, swinging him up into the air until Mario has to grab him in a headlock and wrestle him down, both of them laughing by then — but he genuinely doesn’t know how he’s ever going to let go of his brother again once he’s within arm’s reach. 

“I missed you too! Every day!” He calls out, and if his voice cracks, well, that’s okay. “Hold on! It’s gotta be just up ahead!” There’s a solid wall coming up where they won’t be able to see each other across the way any longer, but the sharp curve of it looks extremely promising. “I’ll meet you on the other side!” 

“Okay!” 

The wall comes between them. Mario's finally in the clear, having left all the attackers in the dust. His legs and chest hurt, but it doesn’t matter. He's about to get his brother back. He feels invincible, unstoppable.

“I told you, bro!” He can’t hear Luigi at all any longer, but he shouts anyway, hoping the words reach him.  “Even if it didn’t turn out like we thought, it’s all gonna be okay! This is crazy stuff, but as long as we're—” 

Mario turns the corner and skids to a sharp stop. The words die in his throat, turning to ash.

Bowser is in front of him. 

The King of the Koopas nearly fills the entire space wall-to-wall, hulking and monstrous, even bigger than what Mario imagined. He breathes out an angry, deep growl that prickles at Mario’s skin, star-bright embers scattering in the air, the smell of burning getting stronger and stronger. But none of that is what Mario is focusing on. He’s frozen in place at the sight of Luigi, wriggling in one of Bowser’s gripped hands. A thick, scaly finger is coiled tight over his brother’s mouth too, keeping him from making any noise besides a variety of muffled, panicked sounds. 

“Thought you didn’t know him, Greenie,” Bowser says in a low voice to Luigi. “Wasn’t that what you said? Boy, you wouldn’t like what I usually do to liars. It involves fire — a lot of it.” His rows of sharp teeth part, just enough for a big exhale, tinged with molten heat. Luigi cringes, turning his head away as far as he can manage. He’s trembling. “But lucky for you, turns out you’re not entirely useless.”

It takes a moment for Mario to come back into his body, remember how to move and think. But slowly, his hands ball into fists. A voice erupts out of him that barely sounds like his own, grave and angry, angrier than he’s ever been in his life. 

“I’m only gonna say this once, ya overgrown turtle,” he says, shifting his footing into a fighting stance. “Let my brother go now.” 

Bowser looks down at him with a derisive sort of amusement for a long moment before laughing outright. "Give me a break, shortie! You’re even punier in person — 50 of you couldn't stop me. But that hasn’t stopped you from trying, has it? You and your little friends  — your pathetic excuse for an “army,” if that’s what you want to call it. But that all ends now.” 

As if on cue, Mario hears DK and a few other Kongs turn the corner, whooping and hollering, only to pause too at the sight of Bowser. “Let’s get ‘em! He can't take us all at once!” Someone says, and there’s a rush of new movement behind Mario. Bowser turns Luigi in his hand, holding him out a little closer to Mario with a shake of the wrist — a taunt. One of his claws pulls up just a little from the rest, the sharp tip arched and pressed lightly to his brother’s neck. The implication is clear. 

“Stop!” Mario shouts, half-strangled. He must sound serious enough that DK yells “hang on, hang on!” to his brethren, grabbing them with both arms and holding them back from attacking. On Bowser's other side, Mario can see the penguins watching what’s unfolding too with wide eyes. Even all the minions in the area have gone still, weapons lowered, waiting to see what Bowser does before making their next move. The space is suddenly quiet. 

The claw finally relaxes again. Luigi’s eyes are very wide, and there are tears on his face as he stares at Mario. He tries to say something, the sound of it hopelessly muffled against Bowser’s hand — an apology, or a plea, or simply Mario’s name. 

Mario is shaking. He grits his teeth hard, desperately tries to hold himself steady again. He hopes Bowser can’t see it — but there’s a gleam in the King’s eyes, and it couldn’t be any clearer that he does. 

“Do you know how long I worked on this plan?” Bowser says, his tone softer, more thoughtful all of a sudden.  “Orchestrating these invasions, gathering forces far and wide to serve me, taking the almighty power star for myself. I’ve wanted this for years!” His wide mouth curves up, plainly wicked and self-satisfied. “And now here I am, about to rule the world like I deserve, and a couple of useless, pipsqueak plumbers from who-knows-where think they’re just gonna waltz right in and ruin it for me.” Bowser chuckles to himself. It’s a dangerous, sharp-edged sound, echoing on and on. “Ain’t that a laugh, Mario?” 

Mario doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even know if he’s breathing any longer. All he can do is glare.

Bowser shrugs. The large fingers on his occupied hand flex ever so slightly, a slow, malicious ripple of movement, all the scales glinting in a wave. “You’re less fun than I thought you’d be,” he says gruffly. "What does the princess even see in you? A tiny little killjoy who loves ruining things for others. Guess it’s only fair I ruin something of yours to make us even."

There’s no further warning or fanfare. In one brutal motion, Bowser crushes his grip tighter around Luigi. His brother’s mouth is still covered, but the way he cries out is starkly, unmistakably pained. 

Mario’s vision floods with red. Something inside of him, the patient, careful part that was still desperately clinging to one last scrap of self-control, snaps cleanly in two. He runs at Bowser full-speed, fist cocked back, teeth bared. 

“I said LET HIM GO!” 

He doesn’t make it there. Bowser, grinning outright, moves so much faster than Mario would have ever guessed he could. He spins, and his tail comes out of nowhere. The impact is like an oncoming train, catapulting Mario into the nearby wall with a sickening crack.

There’s a horrible ringing sound in his ears. His head hurts. He hears Bowser laugh, followed by a roar and a burst of fire breath, awful-smelling and close enough to singe. There’s a lot of shouting, and panic, and thunderous footsteps, moving in a hurry. He can’t think any longer. Why can’t he think? All that comes to mind is—

(They’re fifteen, hiding in their bedroom with some smuggled bandages and antibiotics from the medicine cabinet because if their mom finds out Mario punched out a kid behind the school, she will LITERALLY murder him. Luigi wraps each bruised knuckle carefully as Mario winces and complains about the stinging ointment. His brother looks angrier than he’s ever seen him before, though, and that makes him quiet again in a hurry.)

“You want him so bad?” Bowser is much further away, his voice a distant rumble over the flickering flames. Get up, Mario tells himself. He’s gasping, struggling to push himself back up with useless, trembling hands. His legs feel numb. Get up! “Then come and get ‘em already!”

(“You never stop and THINK first, y’know?” Luigi shakes his head, badly trying to hide the tears budding under his eyes. “And now you’re hurt, and it’s all my fault, and — and I don’t need you to do stuff like that for me! I can handle it, e-even if you think I can’t!”) 

“Mario!” That’s Luigi, terrified and wheezing, finally able to talk again. An intentional decision by Bowser, no doubt, just to be cruel. Mario can barely hear his brother at all, and the sound of his voice keeps growing fainter. “No! Let go! MARIO!” 

(“What are you even saying? That’s not why I did it at all!” Mario insists, using his uninjured hand to flick Luigi’s nose with a few fingers. His affronted expression at that makes Mario laugh, and the motion quickly turns into them trying to be the first one to swat each other in the face without getting blocked. At least the tears are forgotten, which is what he wanted from the start. “Don’t ya get it? I know you can take care of yourself. But if anyone wants to hurt you, they’re gonna have to go through me first. I’M the big bro, and that’s just how it is forever.”) 

Luigi! 

He’s standing again, even as his body protests every pull and push of the way, even as he’s still struggling to open his eyes. Someone strong and furry offers some extra support on his right side. 

“You okay, man?” Donkey Kong asks. “Geez, that looked like it hurt. Hey, anyone have an extra mushroom?” 

Stars are flashing across his vision, but finally they fade away. There’s a line of fire in front of them like a makeshift barrier, slowly but steadily dying out. Sure enough, Bowser and Luigi are gone. Mario’s heart lurches hard against his ribs.

“Setting a devious trap for sure,” The Penguin King grouses from further away. “Using one’s own flesh and blood! Does that dastardly Koopa’s depravity know no limits?” 

“I’m fine. Never better,” Mario groans. He points past the fire. “He went that way, right?” 

DK blinks, looking a little uneasy. “Uh, yeah, but we should probably regroup first and — hey! Wait a second, you idiot!”

Mario’s already charged full-speed ahead, jumping over the flames. Others yell after him too, saying it's too dangerous, but he’s running anyway, chasing the smell of molten heat, the faint, far-off echoes of yelling that feel like pinpricks in his lungs. 

He knows it’s a trap. He knows. He just doesn’t care.

He already let Luigi literally slip through his hands once before. Heck, he isn’t sure if he’ll ever be able to forgive himself for that alone. No matter where he has to go, who he has to fight, how much abuse he has to take, he's getting Luigi back right now, and he's gonna pound that overgrown bully's face until he regrets every life decision that led to him daring to hurt Mario's little brother.

It can't be too late. He can't have screwed this up again. He'll do anything. Even if...

The feeling of something on his cap startles him out of the thought — the softest boop-boop-boop, like someone very small is bouncing on it. He assumes he’s just imagining things until the blue star-thing (Lumalee?) floats down further, easily keeping up with his top speed, humming what sounds like a lullaby. Mario gawks in its direction. 

“The biggest sacrifices are often the ones that burn the brightest, out in space,” it says, bright and sing-song. “Did you know that?”

“What are you even talking about!?” Mario yells. “Sorry, but I’m a little busy here!” 

It’s unbothered by that, twirling close enough to give his mustache a little, playful poke. “Not existing any longer is natural, inevitable. We all go into the light someday.” The way it’s staring at Mario is unnerving, as though this little, creepy star knows exactly what he was just thinking about. “You look scared of that. Are you?” 

Mario swallows thickly. 

“No,” he says. “If that’s the only way, then…” His eyes are burning at the edges, just a little. “If the people I love are safe, then it doesn’t matter what happens to me.”

Lumalee smiles a dreamy, thoughtful smile.

“Oh,” it sighs, little more than a breath. “This is going to be so much fun.” 

And then it floats away. 

Mario doesn’t have time to stop and wonder what that was all about. He throws himself deeper and deeper into the airship, even when a heavy metal gate slams down behind him to separate him from the others, even when the slabs of rock under his feet sink down into the lava from the weight and don’t resurface, erasing any way out. Mario thinks of his training, of Princess Peach and Toad cheering him on, of the exhilaration and hope he felt looking out over the Rainbow Road, of Luigi smiling in the warp zone right before they were ripped apart. He steels himself for what’s coming next.

Further ahead, he hears his brother call out for him.

Mario runs.

[orcelito]

Watching the Obito Reveal in naruto and while I still want to punch this guy in the face, I'm rly enjoying seeing how emotional Kakashi is getting AND how supportive Guy is being to him. Like Fuck You, obito, guy is here and he's better than you in every fucking way. Up to and including giving kakashi the support he deserves ❤️

[pocketramblr]

Upon seeing the post about second as iida my first thought was and third can be uraraka then I noticed you had the same idea in the tags

Great minds think alike I just think that's what she deserves,,,trio holders to the original trio babeyyy

[raeathnos]

.

[bigbuffjoonie]

SCREAMS

Okay now that I’m more normal, this fic was so thrilling! Going through the mountain pass I was holding my breath too! The feeling of dread just building up until The Splashes just -chef kiss-!! Loved everything about this and I cannot wait to see pt 2! 💕

The Obsidian Pearl (I)

— pairing: mermaid seokjin x (f) reader — word count: 7.2k — warnings: yandere, descriptions of death/blood/violence — summary: Sailing through The Dead Man’s Passage is a death sentence and the whole crew knows it. But with the ship’s stocks dwindling fast, your captain is left with no other choice. When a haunting melody makes the crew jump ship one by one, you find yourself alone with the demon lurking in the murky red water. As the creature beckons you to jump into the icy ocean – “come to me, pet” – you find that you can’t do anything but obey.

“Captain, this is a bad idea.”

A hush falls over the deck, a few whispers being passed back and forth between the crew as they watch you challenge the captain’s decision. There’s an audible gulp somewhere behind you as the captain pins you with a hard gaze, his jaw clenched tight with annoyance.

He taps the map that’s spread out in front of him, voice leaving no room for argument as he says, “This is the fastest route.”

“That may be, Captain, but it’s not worth the risk. Haven’t you heard the stories? The numerous crews that have gone missing after sailing in this area? There’s a reason it’s called The Dead Man’s passage!”

Keep reading

[envy-of-the-apple]

Fun Sized

Dark!Fairy!Gojo Satoru x reader

Word Count: 2k

Synopsis: You save a tiny fairy. Gojo Satoru decides that you and him belong together, regardless of how little he is and how little you think of him. 

(Warnings: Yandere, not many warnings in this one ngl)

The fae are a dangerous bunch. You've heard more than enough stories to be spooked. Sirens will sing beautiful songs before dragging you into the depths. Dragons will burn you to a crisp before a second's thought. Nagas would make sure you were alive until the very end as they feast on your organs. Centaurs would use their powerful legs to stomp yours to mere twigs. Driders would suck your blood until there's nothing left but a husk of your body. 

You've never heard anything about fairies. They didn't live in your region. Their lands were high in the mountains, where humans rarely traveled. Also, they were so tiny, according to the books. The biggest seemed to be barely the size of your hand. They were harmless, you concluded. Harmless to humans. Harmless to you. 

He had been harmless. At first, you thought it was a cluster of leaves in the stream, but as the current drew it closer, you noticed tiny arms and a tiny face. He was unconscious; you didn't even know if the poor thing was alive. 

The Fae are a dangerous bunch, but saving one tiny fairy couldn't hurt, right? 

Your guest quickly proved to be a bigger hassle than you initially thought. 

When you brought him to your cottage, he laid in a basket of warm linen, asleep for hours near the warm fireplace. The blueberry pie was still hot when you turned around and caught him staring at you. 

It was silent for a while, and then you said: 

"Do you like sweets?" 

That's how your tentative friendship with the other kind started. Gojo Satoru (you later learned his name) was a boisterous thing. He did in fact like sweets, which helped bribe his friendship. You're surprised that he ate so much despite his stature. Did all faires have black holes for stomachs? 

He healed up rather quickly. At first, you were afraid that his wings had crumbled due to the prolonged exposure to water. But after stuffing himself full of the blueberry syrup, he smiled widely before flitting out your window. 

You thought that would be the end of it, but then he just came coming back. 

Apparently, your baking skills left an impact on the small creature. He didn't visit often, but when he did, you would always make sure you had something. Whether it be cookies, brownies, or that blueberry pie he was so fond of. Anything was good enough for Gojo's taste palette. 

"In the fae lands," Gojo said when you prodded, "sweets are too sweet. Yours is just enough."  You weren't too sure what he meant by that, but you took it as a compliment. You were sure the fae wasn't something who'd give praises so easily. 

It's not like you were upset at providing food for your tiny friend. Quite the contrary. You loved it when Gojo visited. You found him fascinating, the way he could fly miles and miles above your head. How tiny he was. The amount of times you had to hold yourself back from squishing him between your fingers because of how cute he was scared you. 

And you hoped you were fascinating enough to entertain Gojo. You had to be; you don't know why else he'd keep coming back. Even after gobbling down your cooking, he'd lounge around your home, entertaining you with his stories. You learned of the other magical creatures he was in contact with, the students he taught, and how fond he was of them. You don't know why he was so open about sharing his personal life with you, in the stories fae hated humanity, but you would never complain. 

It doesn't click as to why Gojo's so invested in you until he comes out and says it himself. 

"Instead of me coming back and forth like this, why don't you just come live with me?" He says, "I would cut down my flying time by a lot." 

You stare at him in amusement, sure he's joking. "I'm not sure how I'd fit in your house." You tease. "I'd probably crush all your furniture." 

"I can make my house bigger." He announces. "Don't worry 'bout it, just say yes." 

You stare at him, slowly realizing that he isn't as amused. He's still smiling, but there's no joke. 

"No," you finally say, "I'm not doing that." 

He cocks his head surprised as though he's never had someone reject him before. 

"What?" He asks, "Why not?"

"Well." You clear your throat. "For one, I'm human, and you're a fairie. I don't think Fae would appreciate a human wandering around in their lands." 

"Who cares about all that?" Gojo waves his hands around. "You'll be with me, anyways. It'd be fine." 

"I don't get why you're so fixated on the human realm." His mouth turns into a sneer. "It's all so boring. Nothing ever happens. And our magic is much more advanced than yours." It's true. You can't disagree with that. Satoru didn't wear clothes made out of leaves or vines, unlike the common fairy stereotype. His clothing looked much more advanced compared to your loose cotton dresses. A black shirt with intricate buttons and long sleeves. Along with black trousers. You wonder what material could make his suit so shiny. 

You laugh at his disgust. At that time, you saw Gojo as a tiny child clutching their mother's skirts, a cute puppy. You hadn't yet taken Gojo Satoru as the threat he was. 

"It's because I am human." You say, not offended by his remarks. "So I like being near other humans." 

He groans as though your logic makes no sense. "Yuji and the others ask about you all the time, though. They've been dying to meet you." 

"You talk to your students about the giant that cooks for you? I'm flattered." 

"You're dodging," he warns. You roll your eyes. 

"Satoru, I'm not coming to live with you. It'd be too much of a hassle." You finally say. "Besides, you're not my type." 

"I'm everyone's type." He argues. 

"Not mine." You smile, and then you make your first blunder. 

"I like my men a little taller." 

He stiffens, and you know you said the wrong thing. Your smile fades as does the cheery energy in your cottage. He says nothing, but he's zipping out your window before you can apologize. 

He doesn't return for the longest time. You count the weeks. Guilt weighs on your shoulders, heavy and burdensome. Every day you bake something even tastier than the day before. Not even that is enough to coax him back. 

You think you've lost him forever, when he returns on one sweltering summer evening. 

"Hi." You blink. He's watching you, sitting idly on the window, kicking his tiny feet. 

"Hi." He smiles. 

You're happy enough to grab him with one fist and hugging him to your chest, but as always, you stop yourself. Instead, a shy smile rests on your face. 

"I'm sorry," you say, "I really am...will you accept an apology pie?" 

He grins wider, and you relax. 

He eats, and you're grateful. Something you once cherished in your life has finally come back to you. You might not return Gojo's feelings, but you still care for him. You'd rather die than ever hurt him again. 

"No, you're right." Gojo surprisingly concedes when you apologize for the third time. "We're too different. It'd never work out. Not as the way you are, right now." 

You nod, grateful he's so understanding. "Exactly." 

He's finishing up when he announces he brought you a gift. 

"I've been working on it for the past few weeks," he cheerily says. "It took a while, but it's finally safe for human consumption." 

He takes out a tiny glass bottle filled with something swirling and blue. When he asks you to bring a glass of water, you acquiesce. To your astonishment, when the elixer is poured, the entire water becomes a swirling mass of a color comparable to none other than galaxies. You're so mesmerized by the color, it's enough to stump your voice. 

"For you!" He declares. "You've always been cooking for me; thought I might return the favor, just this once." 

"What is it?" You ask, amazed by the color. You admire the glance, unaware of the glint in Gojo's eye. 

"It's kinda like the wine you have in the mortal realms, but a little less poignant." He gives when you glance at him. "Go on, tell me what you think?" 

You're too trusting, and so you make your second blunder. 

Once you start, you can't seem to stop. The taste is otherworldly, addicting. You drink and drink, not wasting a single drop. You're breathing heavily once the cup detaches from your lips. 

"Amazing." You say before looking at him. His eyes are too wide, but you're too distracted by the taste still on your tongue. "Seriously, what was that? Can I make it here?" 

He scratches the back of his head. "Not really, the ingredients are pretty hard to find." He shrugs. "Besides, it's supposed to be a one-time use." 

Your eyebrows twist, and then the world sinks. 

You're falling. You think you are. You don't really know. Everything feels like it's stretching. The walls of your tiny little cottage get higher and higher and higher. The floor gets more and more warped. You're sinking, sinking through the air. When you scream, nothing comes out. You feel like you're choking because you can't breathe, and then your vision grows black. 

The next time you open your eyes. It's still dark, and to your horror, you realize you're buried underneath something. 

You panic, clawing and tearing your way out. The material gives away easily. It's fabric. Cotton. But there was so much, an undying ocean of fabric. You lift yourself up from the pile and that's when you realize you're completely naked. 

The mountain of cotton you just climbed to the top of was your old dress. 

Everything was gigantic—the table, the chairs. The windows seemed endless. The ceiling looked miles above you, and you know what happened, but your brain can't formulate it because it can't be—it just can't be.

There's a flutter of wings. You always thought he was so quiet before. Now, he's all you can hear. Immediately, you wrap your body with the cloth. It's hard to keep still; your body is buzzing with nerves and you still can't understand. You have to force yourself to look at him.

You don't know why you expected shock, guilt, something other than the pure manic glee on his face. Satoru towers above you, head tilted. He bends down, cupping your trembling face in his hand because he's big enough to do that now. 

"Just when I thought you couldn't get any more adorable." He coos. 

You can see him now. His skin isn't pale, it's borderline translucent. His canines are sharp and pointy. And his eyes. Oh God you've never seen eyes so terrifying before—an endless mass of blue, threatening to swallow you whole. 

He wasn't a cute little fairy. He was anything but that. 

"Gojo..." You start, heart squeezing. "What did you do.." 

You know. He knows. That's why he ignores your question entirely. 

"I'm surprised it worked." He says, mainly talking to himself. "Shoko said it might be a dud, and she was so sure of it, that I mostly believed her." 

"But now look at you!" He roughly pinches your cheek. "You're the perfect size now." 

"Stop." You blubber, pushing his hand off of you. "Don't touch me. Change me back. Change me back." 

He frowns. "Why would I do that? You being human-sized was always such a hassle. Lumbering around. Way too loud. Don't get me wrong, I adore you either way." He proclaims like it's something benevolent. "But this has its charm."

He leans forward, and you scuddle backward in fear. His grin widens. 

"So, am I tall enough for you, now?" 

[qqueenofhades]

I don’t have any words right now for what’s happened. Where in the fuck do we go from here?

I don't know. I really, truly don't know. We can't sugarcoat how bad things are going to get, and we can't pre-emptively give into it anyway. This is going to be an unprecedented time in American history (if, sadly, not world history) and the forces conspiring to make you obey will gain much of their power from you doing so in advance, without a struggle. It seems fair to say that America as it has always been historically constituted is over, and may not return in our lifetimes, but we also do not know that for a fact. If nothing else, the fascists will find it very hard to cancel competitive elections, and we cannot sit back, throw up our hands, conclude that voting is clearly meaningless, and let them do that. There are a lot of other things that we need to do, but that's one.

There are various postmortems to be written and nits to pick, but Harris was thrown into an impossible situation and did the best she could in 100 days. Even her critics agree she ran a pretty much flawless campaign. But this country simply decided that a well-qualified black woman could not be preferred over the most manifestly and flagrantly unfit degenerate to ever occupy the office. They decided this for many reasons, not least because large swathes of the country now live in curated misinformation bubbles that, under Government Czar Musk, will only get much, much worse. They were helped by the cowardice and complicity of the "mainstream media" that could have ended Trump's career exactly like they did to Biden after the first debate, but chose to preserve the profits of their billionaire oligarch owners and did not do so, giving Trump the benefit of the doubt and normalization at every turn. They also hounded Biden relentlessly over the four years of his presidency, never reported on the good things he did, and drove him to the historically bad approval ratings lows for a president who was by any metric, quite successful (and will quite possibly be our last ordinary American president for a very long time). Along with the searingly ingrained racism and misogyny and misinformation, Harris could not overcome that.

Democrats clearly had a messaging problem, but it's also true that the country, quite simply, does not care about "democracy" when the economy is perceived to be at stake. Not to over-egg the Hitler parallels, but yeah. This is how Hitler returned to power in 1933 -- on the backs of widespread economic collapse of the Weimar Republic; voters decided they just didn't care about the overtly fascist stuff, which he then proceeded to you know, do with genocidal vigor. Except the American economy in this case was actually doing well, which makes it even more baffling and indefensible. Enough people simply memory-holed Trump's crimes (aided at every turn by SCOTUS, Mitch McConnell not convicting him after January 6, Merrick Garland being far too slow and timid, the corporate media), liked the racist fascist behavior or felt that it wasn't a dealbreaker, and decided that in this election, he was the "change" candidate. It's insane by any metric, but that's what happened.

The country is deeply sick. We do not know what will happen. It's going to get bad. Barring a miracle, we will not have federalized abortion rights again in my lifetime, and there will be widespread attacks on public health, women's rights, immigrants, transgender people, and other vulnerable people. Even and especially the ones who voted for Trump. Never Thought Leopard Would Eat My Face, etc. Alito and Thomas will swiftly step down and allow their seats to be replaced by 40-year old wingnuts hand-selected from the worst the Federalist Society has to offer. SCOTUS is gone for the next generation at least. There is very little prospect of it being ever fixed in the foreseeable future.

Trump will never face a scintilla of consequences for his previous crimes; all the open federal cases will be closed as soon as he takes office and fires Jack Smith. The best we can hope for is that he dies in office, but then we get Vance and the cadre of alt-right techno billionaires ruled directly from the Kremlin. Putin is celebrating this morning and with good reason; he's gotten everything he wants. Trump will egg on Netanyahu in Gaza and abandon Ukraine. Democracy across the world will remain even more fragile and badly under threat. Authoritarians will be empowered and American withdrawal from international systems will percolate in very dangerous ways that cannot and will not be fixed in the short run. I really hope all the leftists who celebrate this as the "defeat of the genocide candidate" will enjoy all the genocide and suffering that's about to come. And yes, I do think the Israel-Palestine war fucked us in a large way. Jewish voters perceived the Democrats as insufficiently pro-Israel due to the presence of far-left antisemitism, even as the far left attacked the Democrats relentlessly and never targeted the Republicans. Arab voters abandoned them, possibly deservedly. What would have happened without the war? We don't know. You get the historical period that you get. Netanyahu and Trump can now do anything they want. Hope it was worth it.

As I said, I can't sugarcoat it. We are going to be paying for this in some form for the next decade, and probably longer. I'm not as absolutely shattered as I was in 2016, but I am much, much angrier. We all thought, we all hoped, America was better than this. It isn't. That, however, is something that has also happened before. What we decide to do next will shape how the next chapter unfolds.

This would be a great time to stock up on needed medicines, renew your passport online, and anything else you need to do in preparation for next year. Many of us simply do not have the wherewithal, whether financial or otherwise, to leave the country. I don't know what will happen with me. I don't know what will happen to any of us. This was utterly avoidable and yet, America didn't want to avoid it. At some point, there's nothing else you can do. You can point to media cronyism, Russian influence, etc etc., but the fact that two of the most qualified presidential candidates who happened to be women have now lost to Trump twice makes it unavoidable. The virulent rightward shift of young men (of all races) in particular paints a grim picture as to how the reactionary misogyny of the 21st century is going to essentially undo most of the progress for social and gender equality in the 20th. The patriarchy has been a problem for most of human history. Doesn't really seem like it's going to change.

The end result of this, however grim: we're still here. We are still living within our communities. If (and this is a big if) Democrats can retake the House, they can put some checks on the process for the next two years. At this point, we are in full-out buying-time, trying-to-prevent-the worst mode. We could have continued fixing things, but we won't be doing that. We will only be trying to preserve ourselves and our friends and our smaller spheres of influence. It sounds very trite to say that we have to have courage, but we do. There's not much else.

It's going to be an awful winter. We have two and a half months to see this coming and know how bad it's going to be, and... yeah. I don't know how soon the buyer's remorse will inevitably set in, but it will. Tough luck, people. You voted for him. You get the country that you decide to have. But the rest of us are also here, and what Gandalf says is still true. We wish the Ring had never come to us, we wish none of this had happened, but we still have to decide what to do with the time that is given to us.

I don't have a lot more. I'll probably be logging off for a while. I don't need to look at the internet for.... yeah, a long time. (Will I do it anyway? Probably.) I don't know what else to leave you with, aside from again:

Do not obey in advance. Do not act as if everything is foreordained and set in stone. Fascist regimes end. They always do. We are going to have to figure out how, and it will suck shit, but the alternative is worse.

Take care of yourselves. I love you.