#and for the last two elections when seeing them get more and more power it has only been increasing

[liberalsarecool]

From Professor Christopher Robichaud, Senior Lecturer in Ethics and Public Policy, Harvard:

“I'll say this, and then I likely won't be saying much more on here for quite some time, to the relief of some, I'm sure. But my farewell warning is this.

Everyone in the days and weeks ahead will use this loss as an opportunity to seek validation for their own hobby horse complaint. Harris lost because she campaigned with Liz Cheney. Harris lost because she didn't embrace Gaza. Harris lost because she didn't choose Shapiro. Harris lost because she wasn't progressive enough (possibly my favorite one).

Take a good, hard look at the map, my friends. Trump has won the popular vote. Trump ran the table. Explaining that with your hobby horse issue isn't going to cut it, tempting and consoling as it may be. The problem isn't the electoral college. The problem isn't that we didn't have a full primary. The problem isn't Harris. The problem isn't that Dems didn't have the right message. The problem isn't even inflation or the border.

The problem is so much worse than any of those things. Those are all technical problems, with straightforward expertise fixes. If only it were so! No, our problem is not technical. It's very much adaptive. A party that embraced the Big Lie, supported an insurrection, and has been selling conspiracy-addled madness for years, [which] was widely and enthusiastically embraced. Voter turnout was profound! People didn't sit this out.

Simply put, the problem--as some of you have rightly posted--is cultural. America, culturally, has completely abandoned a politics of decency and respect and has embraced instead a politics of resentment, revenge, false nostalgia, and bullying. And if you look at the demographics, you also won't be able to comfort yourself that it's just a white thing, or a working class thing, or an education thing. It's multi-class, multi-gender, multi-educational, and multi-racial. That's what winning the popular vote means. That's what running the table amounts to.

A culture that has descended to this level of debasement is not easily fixed. In fact it may not ever be fixed. The timeline for changing something like this is decades--at best--not two-to-four year election cycles. You can extend that in this case, because with the GOP likely controlling all branches of federal government and the courts, they will ensure that mechanisms are in place to keep them in power long after their popularity has waned. You can count on that.

The GOP evolved into a party of rage, lies, and revenge--and it correctly diagnosed that there was and is a large appetite for that. That's what the country wants. At least enough of the country wants it to ensure broad appeal and widespread electoral success. The old GOP will never return, and the Dems have nothing to say to American culture at the moment. Nothing. They've been speaking to a country that's gone, like dust in the wind.

And that's my final thought, which my posts last night alluded to. The America I knew and loved is gone. This new America--nah, I won't even bother. I will say that cultural change is less likely to occur in politics or in the academy. You're not going to get people to see how vulgar they've become through a clever argument or a nice campaign speech, that's for sure.

This would be time for the arts, broadly understood, to step in. The arts can change hearts and minds. Too bad the arts have been systematically dismantled in education in this country, and on the other end, the tech industry's assault on the arts through AI is sure to hollow out any good-faith efforts that might emerge.

And for the rest of the world, America's rightward lurch is, I'm afraid, bad news for you too. I know you know this. Because it's not isolated, is it? It's just at the moment the most prominent example of a burgeoning trend. And this will embolden others in other countries, to be sure. We need not speculate what happens when countries become mired in lies, embrace resentment, and savor bullying. We know exactly what happens. Bloody conflict and global destabilization.

The first quarter of the 21st century will, therefore, in hindsight, be viewed as the seed-planting stage for the absolute shit show that's about to unfold globally over the next two and a half decades. Count on it.

Adopt whatever coping and endurance strategies you have available. You're going to need it.

I think that's all I've left to say.”

The least evolved. The most paternalistic.

The bully. The liar. The most resentful.

This is the reality we are in. FOX and Republicans have been repeating the script for decades.

The Dark Ages are conservative aspirations.

The abdication of values/principles is complete.

'Good faith' no longer exists on the Right. The more reprehensible the action/person, the bigger the addiction. Trump proves this.

Anti-paternalism, anti-fascism and anti-bullying are my paths forward. Join me.

[mokulule]

"Cohabitating Half Demons?" It's more likely than you think.

Fandom: Devil May Cry Ship: none, this is all brotherly feels with a dash of Nero Summary: It's post DMC5, and things are good. Vergil's relationship with Nero is still up in the air, but six months in Hell and two months of cohabitation with Dante has gotten them pretty used to each other. There's literally no issue between them, except all of Dante's friends seem to think there is.

Part 1:

The first time it happens, it is Mary Arkham walking in like she owns the place - or rather, if Vergil’s being generous, she walks in like she’s assured of her welcome, which considering his brother’s sentimental nature, she has good reason to - it is still grating.

“Whoa, look at this place looking downright presentable!”

Vergil frowns and looks up from his book. From his position on the couch he has a perfect view of the way she runs a finger along Dante’s desk and turns around taking in the office.

“Should have known you were a neat freak.”

Vergil narrows his eyes. Is she implying Vergil cleaned the place up? As if he’s his brother’s maid, cleaning up his messes?

“We share the chores,” he states flatly. They have a system, Dante does the bulk of the grunt work like a red tornado and Vergil does the detailing his little brother does not have the patience for. It works for them.

“Wow, you must be some slave driver to get Dante to clean. Not that I’m really surprised.” The look she gives Vergil makes her low opinion of him very clear.

Vergil rolls his eyes and elects to ignore her going back to his book. It was Dante she was here for anyways, she’d discover soon enough he was out on a job.

It is not the last time it happens.

The next time is Trish, who apparently heard from “Lady” and just had to see for herself.

“I must say I can’t quite believe it. Not an empty beer bottle in sight. I suppose that is the power of a nagging brother.”

A nagging brother? Maybe… His brother is a slob, and if Vergil doesn’t remind him he’d forget to shower more than once a week. He’d leave a mess all over the place instead of just in his own room. Vergil doesn’t understand how he finds anything in there. Still, he hadn’t considered himself nagging, it isn’t like it is hard to get Dante to clean up his mess or to shower more. Vergil is pretty sure it is habit now after living together for two months.

Vergil won’t tolerate him in his space if he doesn’t shower after his hunts and Dante has proven himself obnoxiously tactile. It had been a bit hit and miss because of that to start with. It would often devolve into a fight if Dante invaded his space, both because he was covered in grime and guts and because Vergil had a tendency to interpret invasions of his space as an attack. However, at this point in time it is more rule than exception that when Dante returns from solo hunts, he’ll shower and change clothes, then find Vergil to just lean against him - a quiet reassurance of each other’s presences.

Vergil will never admit it soothes a part of him too.

They don’t talk about it. There’s no reason to.

Nero is the next. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to, his wide eyes speak for themselves and then Nico speaks for him “Holy canoli! From your description I expected a dump! But this is-”

Nero elbows her in the side.

“Hi,” he says awkwardly clearly not sure how to address Vergil. Back on the Qliphoth he’d called him Vergil once and father in a sarcastic tone. When they’d returned from Hell tired and scruffy, he’d called them assholes. At this point Vergil isn’t even sure what he’d prefer, so he just nods in greeting, waiting to see what they want, knowing they’re there for Dante, but even still there’s a small hope-

“Is Dante around?”

Ah- of course. Vergil closes his eyes for a moment and breathes steadily through his nose.

“I believe he is on a job.

”Nero frowns and says “Again?”

Which is the most baffling response. What did he expect? To just find Dante lounging around behind his desk? Nero had done his part in their absence, but with the general weakening of the barrier between the worlds Dante’s business is thriving.

“It’s local so he should be back in a few hours-” Vergil pauses, hesitates before finally offering, “you’re welcome to wait here until then.”

Nero would be a terrible poker player, he is not nearly fast enough to hide his grimace at the offer. He takes half a step back. His right hand clenches, and he angles his body so it’s hidden behind him.

“Umm, that’s alright, don’t wanna impose. Would you tell him to give me a call when he gets back?”

Vergil’s gaze slides back up to Nero’s awkward not quite smile and meets his eyes levelly.

“I shall.”

“Great!” Nero averts his eyes. Shifts on his feet, it’s like he wants to say something. He takes a deep breath, but then releases it in a sigh instead. He turns on his feet, grabs Nico who’s been looking between Nero and Vergil as if wishing she had popcorn.

“Bye, see you I guess,” Nero mumbles as they leave.

Vergil doesn’t know how to respond to that, and they are out the door before he figures something out. Nico’s raucous laughter reaches him just before the doors close behind them.

He frowns. That could certainly have gone better. The way Nero hid his arm instinctively… He closes his eyes and breathes slowly, in and then out. It isn’t enough. He snaps his book shut and stands up, he needs to do something with his hands.

Oo o oO

A few hours later, Dante returns. He whistles jauntily as he walks in and Vergil doesn’t even need to look to see it went well. Still, he flicks his eyes up from the tome he’s perusing, taking in Dante’s frankly gory appearance. A quick sniff assures him none of the blood belongs to his brother.

“I see someone had fun,” he comments dryly.

Dante laughs, and it loosens something in Vergil’s chest that’s been tight since Nero’s departure.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be sure to clean up under the nails too,” he tosses over his shoulder as he enters the bathroom through the door behind his desk.Vergil is stunned then shakes his head. There’s a small tug on his lips and a strange not entirely bad squeeze in his chest. He hadn’t even realized he’d matched their mother’s tone from when they would come inside covered in mud. Of course Dante had been on the receiving end of that one many more times than Vergil had, so it is no surprise he remembers. It’s not strange that Vergil didn’t until that moment.

Hearing the water turn on he turns back to the tome, makes one last note in his notebook, before putting both away. Instead he pulls out his favorite book and loses himself in the comforting familiarity of the words of William Blake.

Dante eventually comes out of the bathroom, freshly dressed in jeans and one of his band shirts. He considers Vergil. He’s noticed the change in book. It isn’t the first time, Dante is extremely observant for all he acts the doofus, but like every other time he doesn’t comment. Vergil almost wants him to ask just to get the confrontation over with, but only almost.

“There’s leftover stir-fry in the fridge,” he says instead.

“What? No, pizza?” Dante pouts.

Vergil demonstrably turns a page in his book and doesn’t deign that with an answer. Dante can eat whatever he wants. Vergil is entirely able and willing to eat the leftovers tomorrow.

Five minutes later a distant ding of the microwave signifies Dante is done heating his chosen dinner and he walks back into the office with a steaming bowl of stir-fry. Because he is a heathen he’s already eating even before he sits himself down next to Vergil on the couch.

Vergil waits for it and it’s only when Dante leans their shoulders together, and Vergil lets go of his breath and tension, he realizes he held it in the first place.

“This is rather good for not being pizza,” Dante comments on the food instead of commenting on Vergil, and that’s the only reason why Vergil lets the half-baked compliment slide.

“Nero would like you to call him.”

“Oh, he called?” Dante says around a mouthful of food and it is so disgusting it almost distracts him from the question, but only almost and the encounter earlier today is still too fresh in his memory. He keeps his face carefully neutral, but some tiny twitch must still have betrayed him, because there’s a minute narrowing of Dante’s eyes and even if Dante is still not quite facing him feels his attention nonetheless.

“He was by earlier. With Nico.”

Vergil is not prepared for the way Dante leans his head against his in response. He tenses, uncertain how to react. It feels like a new attack, a feint of some sort, but as the seconds pass and nothing happens he slowly lets go of the tension bit by bit. It’s just Dante leaning warm against his shoulder as usual just now with his head joining in with the leaning. His still slightly damp hair tickles Vergil’s neck.

It’s familiar, but half-forgotten like most of Vergil’s childhood memories only pulled to the surface and dusted off with a reminder: they’d done this many times before in simpler times. With the memory comes a choice and for once Vergil tries not to overthink it. Instead he tilts his head slightly so he leans back.

Dante’s hands twitch around the bowl and fork respectively, and his breath has the tinniest hitch, but otherwise he doesn’t react, doesn’t move away.

Vergil allows the sensations to sink beneath his skin, to be analyzed later: His brother’s hair, soft and freshly washed against his face and neck where his skin isn’t covered. The solid warmth and weight to him. The closeness, the rare silence. He closes his eyes and just tries to feel.

Eventually though, the restless urge to move grows too strong and he shrugs Dante off with a, “your food is getting cold.”

“Huh, I guess it is.” For unknown reasons Dante still isn’t eating. He’s not even looking at the food, just staring pensively into the air.

Vergil is starting to compose a scathing comment about not realizing his brother could spend so long without opening his mouth, just to break the silence, but then Dante finally reaches his conclusion.

“We should go out of the city one of these days, find a place where we can really let loose.”

And Dante turns to face him with that crooked grin on his lips he plasters on to appear unaffected, but there’s something hopeful in his eyes.

Vergil scoffs because this at least is easy territory to traverse. “You think you can beat me with a bit more space? You are sorely mistaken. Didn’t six months in the Underworld teach you that?”

Dante purposely brings a mouthful of food to his mouth before speaking, he did it just to watch Vergil’s face twist in disgust, he is sure of it.

“I think six months in Hell taught me you couldn’t beat me either.”

“You are a child.”

“So is that a yes?” Dante’s eyebrows rise in mocking challenge.

Vergil stands. “You better find somewhere that could use a Dante shaped hole in the ground, the humans can use it as a tourist attraction once I’m done with you.”

Dante’s laughter rings out loud and delighted and follows him all the way up the stairs. Only when he’s inside his own room does he allow the small smile to stretch. He is looking forward to that.

Oo o oO

The fourth time it happens, Vergil becomes aware he’s keeping count.

It’s Dante’s broker - Morrison, if Vergil remembers his name correctly, which he’s fairly sure he does, but he will not address him by name just in case he is wrong. He hasn’t been here, not since their immediate return, so of course, like apparently any of his brother’s motley group he does a double take when he enters the shop.

“Now I never-“ He stops when he sees Vergil’s narrowed eyes.

“Dante is not here,” Vergil preempts the question he always gets, but then realizes something that makes unease and suspicion curl in his gut, “which you should know.”

He is after all the one who gave Dante that job a day’s travel away just yesterday. Dante is good, but without Vergil’s assistance there is only so much to be done about travel time - and Dante hadn’t asked him to help, something about how it would be good to take Cavalier for a ride. Dante has too many Devil Arms.

“Ah, yes,” Morrison says, walking seemingly leisurely around the shop, but Vergil cannot help but notice how he keeps a careful distance between them. “It was actually you I wanted to talk to.”

“Then speak.” Vergil has no patience for this tiptoeing.

“Now, I am not complaining, Dante is no doubt the best devil hunter there is, and he’s earning me a lot of money.”

“Get to the point.”

“I worry about him. Getting him to take jobs is usually like pulling teeth, and here he is accepting, no fuss, no muss, downright professional. His bills are paid on time, his finances are in order-“

“I fail to see the problem.”

“Yes you would think that’s a good thing right?”

There was a barely there emphasis on you, that made it clear he meant Vergil and not a general you, but still so subtle he had plausible deniability. It took Vergil a moment but then his brows drew down in a deep scowl as he parsed the implication. This was more of that thinking that he was some sort of slave driver or nag.

“I don’t have anything to do with Dante’s jobs unless he asks me to join.”

“You mean a lot to him, you know?” The non-sequitor throws Vergil for a loop and thankfully Morrison is busy assessing Dante’s repaired jukebox to see his surprise and he manages to school his features before the man turns around.

“Dante has a lot of friends who’d hate to see him burned out on an impossible quest to please his long lost brother.”

Vergil blinks. Is this human actually threatening him? Over Dante? He supposes in a way he should commend the man for his bravery, but more than that it irks and scratches that he dares come between him and his little brother.

Vergil stands up and Morrison takes a gratifying step backward. Forcing himself to appear unaffected he walks past the man towards the kitchen, showing him how little threat he considers him by leaving his back open towards him.

He pauses with a hand on the door to the kitchen.

“You’d do well to remember I hold humans in very little regard compared to my brother.”

By the time Vergil returns to the main room of the shop with a cup of steaming tea, Morrison is gone, though the cloyingly sweet scent of instinctual human fear still hangs in the air. He brings his cup up to his nose and fills it with the much more appealing floral scent of his tea.

He tries to continue his research, but his equilibrium is thoroughly ruined. Tea can only help so much. Dante better make good on his promise soon, because Vergil itches to punch something.

He clenches his hands and lets them go. It annoys him the way it affects him. What does it matter what some petty humans and a demoness think? He tries to tell himself it doesn’t matter, but they matter to Dante and their opinions probably also matter to him. There’s a tightness in Vergil’s chest he cannot identify the reason for, only that it feels terrible, and his hands itch to turn into claws that can rend his problems into shreds, but that solution is not acceptable.

Instead, he stews.

He could leave, but finds himself strangely reluctant. It will be much more satisfying to slice Dante into ribbons in that fight he’s promised him, than to go search out some low-level scum. Dante will actually give him a challenge, he will require Vergil’s full attention, there will be no room in his head and heart for this nonsense.

Not to mention low level demons will be near humans to hunt, Vergil should not go out amongst humans. They are too loud and obnoxious and everywhere on a good day, this is not a good day. He can’t do that to Dante, to- to Nero- and the thought of Nero… He clenches his teeth tight, grabs Yamato, never far from his side and lays her across his lap, hoping to draw calm from her cool familiarity and weight.

It only works so much. Dante cannot return too soon.

Oo o oO

“Hoo boy,” are the first words out of Dante’s mouth the moment he comes home to Vergil’s glare snapping to him.

“Did I leave a dirty plate out?” He jokes, and it is the absolute worst thing he could say. Vergil snarls, something guttural promising violence he didn’t even know his human throat could produce.

Dante stiffens. “Okay, moving up the schedule. Right now, let’s go. You ever been to the plains south of Enamel city? Lots of open space.”

Vergil narrows his eyes. As a matter of fact he has been to Enamel City once a very long time ago. It had a prominent bridge, flat surrounding country with long straight roads and too many biker gangs willing to bother a lone teen.

It is enough.

He stands, and narrows his focus as he draws Yamato. Two precise cuts into the fabric of space and then he’s sliding Yamato back in her sheath breathing out. He doesn’t wait to see whether Dante follows him - he better - and just steps through the portal.

He only barely allows his senses to register the wide open space he’s brought them to and the blissful lack of human scent and noise anywhere in the vicinity, before he turns back around and triggers.

Dante’s eyes go wide. “Oh shit.”

He barely manages to trigger into his own sin-devil form before Vergil barrels into him. There’s no finesse to it, only the howling in his soul and the call for violence. His claws scratches useless against thick carapace before finally finding an edge and digging his claws in between scales into soft flesh, drawing blood.

Dante howls in surprise and pain, but it ends in a challenging growl as he knocks their horned heads together with a large crack creating a shockwave bursting outwards from the force. Stunned momentarily Vergil’s grip slackens. Still he has enough wherewithal to curl his claws reflexively when Dante kicks him away, rending more flesh on the way and pulling free a scale.

It doesn’t slow down Dante. He’s on Vergil the moment Vergil’s claws no longer have a hold.

It is a blur of claws and fangs and snarls and blue and red tumbling around. Pain sears in Vergil’s back. His heart beats fast and angry and exhilarated. Deep groves are rent into the ground. Grass flattens and rips. Their half demon blood semi crystallizes where it splatters but also drips all too human despite their fully transformed forms.

They can only hold their sin devil forms for so long, though it’s a good deal longer than 8 months ago, and even though they detransform that doesn’t mean they’re done, it just means they have to draw their weapons for lack of claws.

There’s nothing that exists but the two of them, nothing but Dante’s sharp smile and the way he meets him blow for blow, takes every hit, gives as good as he gets and always gets back up. And slowly clash by clash Vergil lips mirrors Dante as they dance the way only they can.

It is a reckless sort of trust. This willingness to hurt but not kill, because most creatures would have died from the wounds they gave each other early in the fight, not to mention later. It is an acknowledgment of the other’s resilience, it is a testament to how well they know each other’s limits.

This is the product of 6 months of near constant fighting each other in Hell.

How Vergil has missed the simplicity.

He hardly notices the waning light turn to dark and back to light again, nor that it happens again. The only cycle that matters is time in between triggers. Neither of them has had cause to go all out since their return, there’s a lot of pent up energy, reserves they didn’t have at the end of their underworld excursion that has had time to build back up.

The end to the fight is inevitable. Vergil starts to feel exhaustion dragging at his movements. His holds on time that much more fragile. Space doesn’t bend as readily for him. His breath comes in harsh puffs, but so does Dante’s, and Vergil intends to win.

He’s got a plan. A thrust that Dante even tired will easily dance around, a follow up that’s another feint, before his real bid for victory, an unexpected kick with Beowulf, which has yet to make an appearance in this fight and considering Vergil’s clear preference for Yamato will be sure to take Dante by surprise.

But Dante always has a way of messing up even the most straightforward of Vergil’s plans.

He should have known.

He thrusts and instead of dodging Dante throws himself forward impaling himself on Yamato with a sickening slide of too little resistance, his brother’s flesh giving way so easily to Yamato’s edge. Vergil’s eyes widen. Dante collides with him, throwing his arms around his upper arms, trapping him in a hug that forces him a step back.

“Gotcha.”

Vergil is stiff as a board. Dante’s blood drips drips drips onto the ground. He can see Yamato sticking out on the other side, she’s buried to the hilt.

Anger rises up and Vergil grips it desperately. “You damn imbecile! If you want a hug try asking for it!”

For a moment Dante looks absolutely stunned, something passes his face that Vergil cannot begin to comprehend right now, only to replaced by a bloodied smirk.

“Guess we know where Nero gets his potty mouth from after all.”

Vergil is not really listening. Maybe if Dante had pushed his advantage with a fist to Vergil’s face he wouldn’t feel like this. But there’s nothing to attack, nothing to fight. The adrenaline has nowhere to go and his entire body trembles from it.

All he feels is his heart beating too fast. His chest too small, too tight. Dante’s (his own) blood in his nose. Yamato’s scream in response to his distress.

“Verge?”

Desperately he tries to focus on Dante’s voice, but it sounds so far away, despite him being right there, bleeding. Drip. Drip. Drip. Blood rushes in his ears, loud like a waterfall. Vergil gasps for breath. The hold around him loosens. No! He lets go of Yamato, grips onto Dante. He’s going to fall.

Spots dance in his vision. Dante’s mouth is moving, but he hears nothing but the rushing water. Arms wrap around him again holding him tight.

His face ends up in the crook of Dante’s neck and he hates that it’s better that it smells more like sweat than blood. He takes a shuddering breath.

He didn’t know Dante could do it, open a portal with Yamato, but she sings reluctantly for him and the yawning maw in space tugs at his back. And suddenly Yamato is sheathed and squished between him and Dante, as the world tilts. A hand digs fingers into his hair supporting his head keeping it in place.

Home wraps around him with its familiar scents, the near identical scents of him and Dante, a hint of Nero. He feels suddenly so tired.

His bed is beneath him, it would be so easy to just give in to oblivion, but Dante is pulling away, a subsonic warning growl rumbling from his chest and it takes a moment to realize why as his sluggish senses try to catch up. There’s someone in the shop.

“Dante! I know you’re here!” Mary Arkham calls.

Dante leaves him with a lingering squeeze to his shoulder, he can practically feel his brother’s reluctance. Vergil stares at the wall as Dante’s steps make their heavy way down the stairs, purposely noisy, because he isn’t hunting. He hates this weakness, hates that he had to resist the urge to grab Dante.

“Lady, now is really not a good time.” Vergil can practically hear the forced smile in his brother’s voice.

“Dante, you better have a good explanation for why I had to field calls from my military contacts for three days! Do you have any idea the amount of strings I had to pull for them not to nuke the two of you after Red Grave!”

“Would that work?” Dante muses.

“That’s not the point! I had to assure them you had everything handled.”

There is silence as Dante thinks over what she is implying. Vergil doesn’t have to, it is only too clear that he will always be the villain in her narrative.

“What happened Dante?” She asks quietly, concerned, “what was he scheming this time?”

Vergil clenches his hands. Can only imagine Dante remembering old tomes and notebooks, casually put away when he’s around. Every second Dante remains silent feels like another nail.

Finally it is her and not Dante who speaks:

“You need to do something, he’s dangerous.”

“I’m dangerous,” Dante counters.

“Not like Vergil you aren’t,” she scoffs - and she is right. Dante is a declawed kitten amongst his precious humans.

“It was not a fight and there is no scheme.” Dante actually sounds like he believes it.

“Please, they had to cover it up, calling it a freak weather phenomenon. There is no way you two weren’t serious.”

“Lady, I appreciate you running interference. We will find somewhere further from civilization next time.” Dante tries to shut down the conversation politely.

“Dante-“

“No,” he outright growls, “it was my idea and it’s none of your business!”

There is a long drawn out silence.

Mary Arkham’s steps starts and grows slightly fainter as she moves away. The door opens with a small squeak.

“For your sake, I hope your trust isn’t misplaced.”

The door closes with finality.

The silence feels like claws of doubt in Vergil’s chest digging in, before finally Dante shakes off that parting comment and walks back up the stairs, near silent this time, just loud enough that he knows Vergil can hear him.

Vergil closes his eyes and evens out his breaths, pretending to be asleep. He can’t face Dante right now. Not after that embarrassing… episode he had, not after listening to Mary Arkham suspecting him of betraying his brother’s trust.

Like that honorless, backstabbing bastard she called father.

It’s not like Vergil ever actually wanted to kill his brother. He only wanted to best him. Their goals clashed. They were young and stupid and Dante refused to back down or join him. In the end Vergil chose to fall due to pride.

In the end pride was the only thing he had left, even if Mundus thought he’d stripped him of everything. Even if Vergil fell deeper than he’d ever imagined he could, it was still pride, his refusal to give up that kept him clinging to the last sparks of life.

When he managed to claw himself back from the brink last year with the long awaited reemerging of the Qliphoth and regaining his strength as his singular focus he’d not at all expected how it would turn out.

Nero especially was a surprise.

Still when he stood, recovered and whole again, more powerful than he’d ever been, there was only one possible path forward. He and Dante would clash. They would once and for all settle their score because neither would back down to the other.

Looking back, Nero declaring neither of them were going to die that day was a relief - the shake up both of them had needed. He agreed before he’d even been aware of it himself, though of course Nero hadn’t seen his small nod. Dante had however. The way he immediately backed out of the fight was not something Vergil expected.

Looking back, Vergil is a fool for ever believing his softhearted brother wanted to kill him, when he flung about threats of doing so.

The softhearted brother who has now entered his room again and is watching him pretend to sleep. He doesn’t believe Dante is actually fooled, he would know Vergil heard every word of that conversation. Though on the other hand he might think him exhausted after the… episode.

Vergil just barely resists the urge to clench his hands. He thought he’d left his nightmares behind, but apparently his mind is the gift that keeps on giving.

He forces himself to keep breathing slow and steady as he awaits what Dante will do. He’s not certain what he wants him to do. Part of him wants to snarl and tell him to leave him already. The part that’s still shaken, the weak part, wants him to stay. He could never voice that.

Tension builds along his back without him even realizing. It is only when Dante makes his decision to lay down behind him that it finally unwinds. The arm that snakes around him is a surprise and so is the head that leans on his back.

When they returned from the Underworld they had collapsed together on Dante’s bed, the closeness dictated more by the size of Dante’s bed and their exhaustion than any conscious decision. This however is different. Dante’s hand clenches around the fabric of Vergil’s coat where it lays above his heart.

A sudden memory of Dante crawling into his bed during the night assaults him, it is not actually a single memory more like the summation of a dizzying amount of memories. Dante always had an excuse: a nightmare, the cold, his bed not feeling right, the moon shining onto his side of the room. No matter that Vergil protested and turned around to ignore him, Dante would always crawl into bed with him regardless, just like this, an arm around him and his head resting between his shoulder blades.

The familiarity is like a heavy blanket and sleep is suddenly inevitable.

-

So this is another DMC fic I have been amusing myself with. Second part will also be locked to Vergil's pov, then I think we will have a Dante pov. I am trying to hit this specific mood, like Vergil and Dante has hit this sort of equilibrium without actually talking about or resolving any of their issues, which as we'll see will come back to bite them XD

If you reached the end I'd love to hear your thoughts :D (seriously also just open to chatting about these idiots, they take up too much space in my brain)

I have one other DMC fic posted right now here if you wanna read not-quite-mentally-there-Vergil kidnapping teen Nero and going on an unwitting father-son :sparkles:adventure:sparkles:

Masterpost for subscription

[stonesense]

when you first start the cousland origin, you can have some conversations with arl howe, teyrn cousland, and duncan that shed some interesting light on the political situation in ferelden. it’s definitely the origin where you get the most context on the rebellion and on cailan and his father. while howe isn’t exactly the most trustworthy of sources, he is also one of the most openly critical of cailan that we have access to, which i think is worthy of interest

howe remembers maric with what the toolset describes as “genuine fondness”: “your father hasn’t spoken of our time with him? that man took care of his friends. as they say, he was large as life and twice as tall!” i think we should pay particular attention to that man took care of his friends.

what howe’s talking about is a really important aspect of kingship, where you win the consent and enthusiasm of the nobility for your rule by offering rewards like wealth, land, and prestige to the loyal. kingship is always less stable than it’s portrayed, and this is one of the ways that kings must essentially sell to the nobility that answering to them is worth their time, which would be especially important in ferelden given everything we know about its culture. fereldans believe someone only has power when it is given by the loyalty of those below them, who have the right to freely rescind that loyalty. the dao codex says that “the sight of [fereldan kings] asking for—and working to win—the support of ‘lesser’ men is a source of constant wonder to foreign ambassadors.”

i suspect howe is remembering a maric fresh from the victories of the rebellion, who was able to reward those who had followed him with the spoils of those victories. at the end of the stolen throne, we see that in the final days of the rebellion, maric was killing those who had betrayed his mother to the orlesians even when they arrived under truce to meet him on holy ground. in dao, we see no lingering orlesian nobility except for those who married in and continue to be met with marked hostility. i think we can safely surmise that maric elected to make no conciliatory measures and give everything to those who had followed him; with the orlesians on the run and his people out for blood, he was in a strong enough position to do so, and it certainly served to win the fond memories of men like howe.

by contrast, howe goes on to say, “it’s too bad cailan isn’t half that.” the toolset notes establish very clearly that it’s the same issue, elaborating on howe’s thoughts: “bitter turn, i don’t get as much from the current king”, and “disdainful, i have no use for him, he does me no favours”. this isn’t a minor character detail, if howe’s last words when killed by the player are anything to go by. “maker spit on you... i deserved... more...” whatever it is that howe feels he should have been given, by the crown or anyone else, it characterises his actions and his defining treachery.

it’s in these same conversations that we see another side of this demonstrated. there are two points where howe can openly criticise the king, and bryce immediately admonishes him for both. one even has the toolset note: “speaks sharply, as a lord to a lesser man, not a friend to an equal”. it definitely comes across that way; the way he tells howe “that’s enough” is not far off the voice he uses when the player, his child, displeases him. bryce can’t tolerate any criticism of cailan, as the couslands in dao are ardent supporters of the king. to venture some hc, i suspect that this is not merely royalist fervour, and that howe’s resentment for having been given less is matched by bryce’s awareness of the precariousness of having more.

over the centuries, the theirins have consolidated their power and eradicated almost all the teyrns (the noble rank that is second only to the king). with the only other lingering teyrn being loghain, who is essentially part and parcel of the royal family, the couslands stand alone as the only real rivals to theirin power within ferelden. there are rumours that bryce was once considered for king instead of the theirins; he too could have decided to believe he “deserved more”. but unlike howe, and perhaps understandably given his strong position and happy growing family, he is satisfied with what he has. he will not take the risk of even the slightest challenge being made within his hall

(i expect that bryce’s satisfaction with the current situation further spurred howe’s dissatisfaction to its heights, given the complicated cousland-howe history and the fact that he was expected to accept a friend he had fought beside as a superior for the rest of his life.)

i don’t think howe’s judgement on cailan is likely to be without basis. we don’t hear about any victories the young king has to his name, from which he could have passed around spoils. (to be fair, cailan had harder luck than maric in this regard. a king who raises a successful rebellion gets to bring glory and prestige to everyone who follows him, whereas a king trying to rebuild after that rebellion mostly gets to bring, uh, taxes probably. especially on wealthy centres of trade like howe’s amaranthine, one might assume.) cailan also takes a far more diplomatic approach to the question of orlais, which perhaps predictably did not win over many nobles of howe’s generation. it makes sense that cailan’s strongest supporters would instead be men like bryce who hope for things to simply continue, peacefully, as they are. perhaps in another world where cailan had won the battle of ostagar, he might have earned wider respect. (you could actually argue on this basis that there’s more sense and purpose to cailan’s glory-seeking than he usually gets credit for.) but howe already acts before ostagar, which can only demonstrate his certainty in cailan’s failings at this point: his belief that even if cailan could win, he would not be stable enough to pursue justice for the couslands

[malinthebodyguard]

Young Royals is anti-monarchist propaganda (always has been) 

I think it’s fair to say that most of the fandom was quite happy with the finale. However, I’ve seen a handful of posts by people who were unhappy, specifically  those who were unhappy with Wille giving up his place in the line of succession. These criticisms range in everything from dismissing Wille’s choice (Wilhelm has made a harsh decision without thinking of the consequences, this won’t actually make the media circus around him go away), to those disappointed in how the monarchy in general was represented (Wille could have modernized the institution, no one in the show attempted to consider how the monarchy could be good, actually). I don’t want to invalidate anyone’s feelings about the finale. If you didn't like it, that’s more than ok and I don’t want to argue with anyone about their taste. 

But when it comes to criticism about Wilhelm giving up the throne,  I do find myself frustrated at what I see as a fundamental misunderstanding of what this show was trying to communicate. Young Royals, plain and simple, is a story that  denounces the incompatibility of antiquated and hierarchical institutions (Hillerska, the monarchy) with equality and justice. 

If you’ve had the displeasure of being my fandom friend you’ll know that I’ve spent the last 3 years yelling about how this show is about abolishing the monarchy. I even wrote a lengthy  fanfic with the sole excuse of having Wilhelm arrive at this conclusion. Still, I knew that whatever statement the show wanted to arrive at, we’d only really be getting to it at the end of the show. 

Seasons one and two were setting up all the characters on the chessboard for the end: Wilhelm is the Crown Prince, although he does not want to be. He and Simon are in love, but Wilhelm’s role drives a wedge between them. Erik’s legacy and August's spot next in line are keeping Wilhelm in his place.

 From episode one, I think the show was telling us about the many things that are wrong with the monarchy, but I don’t think it’s until season three that these discussions become more explicit. Is this why some people were disappointed by the ending? Maybe so. Still, I wanted to look at how season three in particular answers some of the questions or issues  people are bringing up regarding both the monarchy and the Wilhelm’s choice. 

What do you like about the monarchy? 

Season 3 Episode 4 is the first time we hear an explicit discussion about why the monarchy could potentially be a good institution. I’ve seen some people complain that the show didn’t give this idea enough thought. 

I completely disagree with this take: the short conversation Wille and Simon have in this episode  is succinct, but still effective at presenting both arguments in this debate. A  longer and more drawn out conversation would have been a bit unrealistic and probably boring to watch. These are not academics having a debate, but two teenagers who are talking about what for them is emotionally charged.

There’s also no need for a longer, more detailed discussion. Wilhelm does provide a very good answer to the question: The monarchy is there to unite the people. To be a neutral party in situations when the government cannot or will not interfere. 

A quick civics lesson: In parliamentary democracies, the monarch serves as the Head of State. 

This role is predominantly representative, although in many places the government is formed in the name of the monarch. This could, theoretically, grant them some political power-- since they could technically reject the winning party from forming a government. However, in most parliamentary monarchies, the King or Queen simply has to accept whatever decision is made based on election results.

However, the value of the Head of State is precisely in its apolitical nature. Regardless of who’s in power, the head of state is a neutral ambassador of the nation, both in and outside of their country. Their job is diplomatic and representative, and one that is thoroughly divorced from politics. This is what Wilhelm meant when he said that the monarchy was there to ‘unite the people’. Whenever I’ve spoken to pro-monarchy folks about their beliefs, they cite this as the reason why they like it. 

It’s easy to see why Wilhlem would latch on this as his main argument to defend the institution. I don’t think there is anything inherently bad about having a separate head of state that represents the country. I don’t think the major grip with this issue is the having a head of state, but the fact that the head of state is a hereditary position. Simon says this himself twice in this episode: the issue is not that the head of state exists, but that the head of state is not an elected position. Furthemore, the head of state is a role that is imposed on a person not by their talent as a public speaker or negotiator, but by a simple accident of birth. 

The job’s legitimacy or importance should not be above any individual’s right to autonomy and self-determination. Furthermore, considering that taxpayers are the ones who finance this position, shouldn’t they be able to elect who it is? 

Let’s imagine a scenario where a friend tells you they’ve gone into a career because everyone in their family works in that industry, and they simply had no choice in the matter. It wouldn’t even matter if they were good or bad, they had a job in this career guaranteed from birth. 

 Would you not be concerned that maybe your friend is unhappy for a rather unnecessary reason? Would you not think that perhaps someone who actually wanted the job would be better suited for it? Would you think it right for a company to hire someone simply because of their family history? Would you consider any of this fair? And what is so special about monarchy that makes us have a different answer for it than we would if the question was about law or medicine? 

You’ll always be famous. 

Another common criticism I’ve seen is that Wilhelm will inevitably regret his decision, especially once he realizes that public scrutiny will not be going away. This is true, Wilhelm will likely always  be a figure of public interest. But to me, this has always been a negative consequence of the monarchy, and I have a hard time seeing this is a valid reason why he should stay in it. 

From the second we meet him, we know Wilhelm is uncomfortable with both the public attention and the scrutiny placed on him. However, this goes a bit further than that. I’d argue than more than the  scrutiny itself,  Wilhelm is weighed down by having to keep a public image. Because, remember folks, Wilhelm is not merely an awkward teenage boy with acne and a crush. No, no, Wilhelm is the State. Wilhelm is going to be a publicly-funded representative of the nation . This means, of course, that there’s a narrative, as he mentions himsef, that needs to be put forward. One that’s generic, serious, and unproblematic: 

From the get go, Wilhelm is uncomfortable with the inauthentic and performative aspect of his role.This is a constant we see with Wilhelm in seasons one and two: every ‘performance’ he has to do fills him with nausea, anxiety, or some sort of discomfort.

In season three, Wilhelm begins acquiescing to this performance. Uncomfortable as he may be, for most of season 3 he’s accepted that this is his role. However, the attention this season shifts from Wilhelm to Simon, who’s now the one facing public scrutiny. The difference is that, unlike Wille, there’s no role for Simon to play. Nothing about who he is or what he believes is compatible with the public image the monarchy is putting forward. The only thing he can do in this situation is disappear, and Wilhelm is tasked with having to ask that of him. 

I know a lot of people were exasperated at Simon’s very bad and clumsy social media presence. I’m not gonna argue that my boy wasn’t being a bit cringey, because he absolutely was. But I think the larger commentary here has more to do with the expectation that these two teenagers have to censor and edit themselves to comply with a particular PR image. 

Ultimately, the criticism that Wilhelm will always be famous leads us straight back to the institution. Why does an underage boy have the same PR expectations as a politician? Why is a teenager dating his classmate + being cringe online justification for doxxing him? Unfortunately, no abdication is really going to undo any of this, and things are certainly going to be crazy once Wilhelm announces he’s stepping down .

However, this time around both he and Simon will at least have the agency to decide what they want to do with their public image, including the decision to disappear from the public completely if that’s what they want.

Queer representation 

This a sentiment that has been in the fandom for some time now. This was the main argument why some people wanted Wille to stay in the monarchy. Sure, the institution has always been about bloodlines and tradition. But wouldn’t it be so nice to have Wilhelm as a symbol for the queer community? I’ve always found this idea a bit shallow. I’m not sure how much of a symbol of a queer and progressive country Wilhelm could be, when the whole idea is predicated on absolutely no one having a choice in the matter. Is it really impressive to accept the queerness of the guy you already had no choice in accepting?  

There’s three scenes in season 3 where the potential Wilhelm -and by extension Simon-  could have for the queer community come up.  Farima brings it up in the first episode, but the framing here is reversed. Wilhelm isn’t serving the LGBTQ community by being a queer Prince, but the monarchy is using Wilhelm (and his queerness) to appear progressive.

The show, however, does humor this idea with the May 1st photo. We see what Simon and Wilhelm could potentially do for the community by simply existing as who they are: they’re inspirational. It gives Simon, briefly, hope that maybe something good could come out of this. 

But this moment is quite literally framed by politics. It doesn't matter that Simon is not participating in that manifestation, anything that is slightly connected with politics is a challenge to neutrality of the monarchy. This same idea is stated more explicitly int the next episode, when Wilhelm is reviewing the options for his charity.

Ultimately, any action significant enough to be truly impactful, would be bordering the limits of what could be considered political. He's got to stick it out with these quite frankly boring and limited themes, all for the sake of staying on the very narrow lane of things that are not political.

The weight of the crown. 

Stories about Kings and Queens usually carry the same fundamental tension of duty vs self. 

In order to rule, our protagonist has to sacrifice themselves, usually for the sake of their country and people. The Crown is an excellent example of this type of story. Sacrifice in that series is framed as something noble and selfless. 

Young Royals started out with this same fundamental tension, but the main difference is that Young Royals has framed this debate as a question: 

Why should Wilhelm give himself up, his happiness, the love of his life, and  his mental well-being? What’s so important and valuable about this institution that requires this sacrifice?

Wilhelm’s journey is about accepting and voicing his answer. He doesn’t want to be Crown Prince, he doesn’t want to be King. 

But by virtue of taking part of this journey with him, we’re able to examine this question from a different perspective: Is this institution valuable enough to justify all of this? I think the show is inviting all of us to evaluate this situation and arrive at the conclusion that it isn’t.

Even someone like August, who wanted this, is weighed down by the realization of just how much the crown weighs. Of course, a big part of the fandom probably doesn’t live in countries with parliamentary monarchies. Still, considering the worldwide popularity of the British Royals, for example, I still think it’s a worthwhile exercise to question the validity of these institutions. Are they really worth sustaining? And if they’re not, why should we continue to drag them on into the present, citing tradition?

[mosneakers]

My 𝐓𝐨𝐩 24 𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬 from 2024🎉

Thank you to the absolute legend @kari-sims for tagging me, your whole post was a magical treat ♥

-> tagging @ravingsockmonkey @lilamausmaus @beebeesiims @bananzerssims @echoweaver @simgnomeful @cinamun @salemssimblr @nova-kim @myopiccc @surely-sims @pixelsinmyveins @pixelshary and anyone else seeing this, don't let the the confines of tags stop you from joining in on the fun ^.^

obvs no pressure to participate, just for fun <33

January

From this chapter from Many Moons Ago- Erik and Agnes Darling 🥺

February

Oh god, it has to be this one. You know the one. My heart sinks seeing it. 😭

March

I really love all the shots from this post— Erwin's close call. I'm very proud of how they turned out, despite how his fate turned out 😥

April

This is when we were introduced to Mackenzie and his very short and very... brutal arc, but it was fun while it lasted. I also loved building a vampiric office lol

May-July

VOID August

Ahhh, the Salient Recollection documentary. By this point I had finally gotten access to a working computer and my creative juices could no longer be contained. It was time for the season 10 finale, and we were going out with a baaaang 😫 This post introduces two new characters interviewing Tycho as he reveals his alien identity in the documentary. September

Hopefully this isn't too much of a spoiler right? Lol hoping everyone is all caught up at this point 😄 But seriously this entire scene was so much work. Working with Coraleye's dress and hair alone, plus trying to capture movement during action shots like this? took hours to edit— plus multiple different versions of the same shot all merged together to get what we see here. It was really important that I captured the fear and desperation and also drama! of the moment though

Also another favorite of mine personally, is this one from this post! By this point I had made probably a million individual glove/suit wrinkles, tears, and hair strands in these edits alone and I think this edit reflects that lol— I also love the lighting and the eeriness of the glow from the TV static behind them, and the desperation and frustration they're both feeling, definitely one of my favorites probably of the year.

October

Oh geez lol October is always a big year for me creatively, so expect a bit more than just one :p

This whole post was so hearbreaking to make for me. Coraleye and Tycho (while incredibly toxic and problematic at times) were my favorite couple I've ever written, and breaking them up was so incredibly painful 😢 I loved how all these shots came out and I'm super proud of them. Take note of how Tatiana's winning the election was foreshadowed in that last shot 👀

Somewhat separately (although stay tuned for season 11, js 👀) from the main story, there's no denying this gifset was undoubtedly my most popular post. I've been in a liminal spaces kick for months now and needed to bring that to my safe space, and let's be honest, the most liminal space of all- the sims!

November

In the finale of season 10, the very last post- Coraleye recounts her mental breakdown. The flashback of cutting her hair at her bathroom sink, tear stained cheeks, bloodshot eyes, and then lying on the ground mourning her friend in front of the house the whole group used to room together at in Britechester—I felt—was pretty powerful. Then the juxtaposition of her months later, seemingly bounced back to her regular flirtatious self while interacting this filmmaker, clearly having him wrapped around her finger, I found quite eerie but also just compelling. Another very proud moment for me. I genuinely just love writing and exploring this character.

December

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ A render I made to show off some cc- but for those who get it, get it.

[tanadrin]

i was thinking about the issue of political deadlock the other day and what to do in a parliamentary system if a government is really unpopular, clearly has no legitimacy, but refuses to call early elections, and is clinging on til the end of its term. and of course there's no reason they have to; but if you did want a popular way to bypass this mechanism, you could do something like this:

every voter is issued a chit in the form of a pre-stamped postcard that just says "SNAP ELECTION" on it. possibly you get one at each general election--you vote, you hand in your ballot, they hand you a postcard; there are never more postcards in circulation than there are voters. and when you think it's time for a snap election to be called, you drop your postcard in the mail. when the election comission or whoever gets a certain number of postcards from voters, a snap election must be called. all postcards issued at the last election are now void (they probably should have a date stamped on them or something), and the counter starts over.

alternatively, you have a national bureau of public opinion that does lots of in-depth high-resource data collection about political opinions, like the BLS or something, and there's some specific criteria--like if public opinion of the government falls below a certain threshold and stays there for a prolonged period of time--that allows a special officer, the Tribune of Popular Discontent, to call snap elections. this is his only job. it is a non-partisan position, and he has very little discretion about how to use his power. he's just the guy outside of the official partisan government whose job it is to press the big red button marked "snap election" if the government can't stop pissing people off. and maybe there's a time limit to it, too, like every government gets a minimum of 18 months, or the threshold for calling a snap election in that interval is way higher.

another variation i just thought of on the postcard system: if you send in your postcard, you get to write in the name of one politician you really, really hate. if enough people name that politician, they are not eligible to be PM or to be in the cabinet at all. the threshold for this would be high--it would not be possible to ostracize more than one or two people per election this way--but if someone is just really hated by a sufficiently high fraction of the populace, they get to be relieved of the burden of seeing their face in the newspaper for a while. plus it would be really funny to see whose name got written in even if they didn't actually get ostracized.

[devilmen-collector]

The Pope is Dead

Ft. M!MC, the Devil Kings (only the five who have been released), Gamigin and other nobles (only nobles who have appeared stories, except Astaroth, I don't have any story part with Astaroth in my account), the Seraphim

C/W: religious theme, reader's death (natural cause)

This is a revamp of my own fic in OM with similar theme

It has been 72 years...

It has been 72 years since you last saw them. Back then, you were a young man with many lustful desires of the youth. Yet you remember the time you spent with them... It went by in an instant but you were happy.

When did it start to go wrong? When did the conflict start to appear? Maybe because your got into conflict with them when you saw or heard them blaspheme God. After all, you were raised a cradle Catholic, seeing them blaspheme God never sat right with you. Or maybe it was because you saw the danger if devils continued to have influence on humanity. After all, we and they are two different races, with different views towards things. And you knew that many things applied to devils and their society can't be applied to human society, regarding how the society works, government, laws, etc. You foresaw what you believed to be the inevitable destruction if you continued to let human have contact with devils. Or maybe some other reasons. It was very complicated. Sometimes, you don't even know what ultimately led to the rift.

That day 72 years ago, you used the devils' power to pull the strings behind the scene to get yourself elected to the most powerful spiritual position in the world, the Pope. The devils were unhappy but they followed your wish anyway, even though your office is totally opposed to them. They loved you too much for their own good to go against your will.

Right after your election, you exposed the existence of angels and devils to the world. With concreate evidence, even the most convinced atheists and agnostics before had to believe in the existence in the supernatural. Then you made sure the idea that the human society was incompatible in every way to devils became the mainstream and most accepted opinion. You also made sure that people never believed that inventions came from devils, but devils only claimed that to be the case to control human society. Leaders of the world soon declared they would be cutting ties with the devils. You didn't believe them completely, of course, which was why you waged a Crusade. The Crusade was fueled by either the faith or the wrath of 8 billion normal citizen and it was so effective that it's believed that all ties between Earth and Hell were cut off. At least, no concrete evidence or sign or any report sent to you supported a remaining connection between earth and Hell.

You also used the powers that you inherited from your ancestor, Solomon, to make a shield around papal residence, which prevents any devil from coming in.

As for the angels, you tricked the Seraphim that you were on their side now. With what you had done, they believed in you. But you trapped them and turned them into energy sources to sustain the shield around your residence. With their infinite life forces God has given them, they are still alive and curse you every day from under the Vatican basilica, where they are imprisoned.

Even though you did manage to cut off Hell's influence on humanity and make the Church's influence stronger, world peace has never been achieved as you have hoped, many people still live in poverty and starvation. Technology is more advanced, but the world is still the same now when you are at death's door as it was 72 years ago.

*cough cough*

"Holy Father" your secretary uses a piece of tissue to wipe the blood that is flowing from your mouth after the coughing.

"We have little time left." You say, almost like a whisper, but all of those cardinals, bishops, priests and doctors around you understand what you said. Your priest secretary can't even hold back his tears.

"We are the longest-reigning Pope ever, with 72 yeats occupying the Chair of St. Peter, but We have not achieved anything noteworthy, except pushing all devils back to Hell."

"No, Holy Father, you have achieved something we couldn't for more than 20 centuries. God will reward His faithful servant." A cardinal says.

"You are a faithful laborer of the Lord." Says another cardinal.

Suddenly, a Swiss guard runs into the room, his face terrified.

"T-the Devil Kings, t-they are here..." The guard says as he pants.

Ah, the shield protecting the papal residence must have been weakening as I lay dying. You say to yourself. That must be the reason why the Devil Kings can break in now.

"Leave." You say calmly. All the clergy and the guard turn to look at you, surprised by your order.

"Leave." You order again, your tone more firm this time. It's time for you to face them, alone. The children God has committed to your care have nothing to do with this.

Some of them start to cry but all of them leave, but not before whispering among themselves to alert all the exorcists and papal guards. However, the Swiss guard stay.

"Holy Father, I have sworn to protect you, even if I have to sacrifice myself." The Swiss guard says. You know he won't leave so you agree to let him stay.

The doors to your room bursts open, as four devil kings, no, three devil kings and a hundreds of flies step or fly into the room. You can see the young guard standing by your side shudder but he stands firm, determining to protect you, whatever the cost he may have to pay.

"You have changed so much." Beelzebub is the first one to speak as his handsome appearance emerge from hundreds of flies. He doesn't smile.

"We- I see that you guys are still the same." You look at the four devil kings. There's Beelzebub, Mammon, Leviathan, and Lucifer.

So Satan, Asmodeus and Belphegor aren't here. They must be so mad at me that they don't want to see me again. You say within yourself. You aren't surprised that the nobles aren't here. The shield may be weakened because you are dying, allowing the kings to pass through, but you are still breathing and sustaining it with your powers, and it's strong enough to prevent the nobles.

"Not the same ever since you left, Master." Mammon says with a sad voice.

You are surprised to hear Mammon still calling you Master, but you no longer have the strength to point it out.

"I must have hurt you guys a lot."

"Yes, you did." Leviathan says with an angry expression. "You said you would stay in Hell but you betrayed us." However, the scowl is quickly replaced by an expression that looks like Leviathan is holding back his emotions.

Lucifer is the first one to come over to your bed. The guard beside you raises his weapon but he's knocked unconscious soon enough.

"Don't kill him." You say weakly.

Lucifer nods as he takes your hand. He checks your weakening pulse. You can see his eyes sadden. "Oh the fate of all children of Adam." You can hear him whispering, like talking to himself. Other kings also come over and stand beside your bed.

Ah, that's my cue. You close your eyes, awaiting your cruel death, after all, you are on your death bed, you have no regrets.

However, nothing comes.

"Aren't you going to kill me?" You open your eyes and ask.

"No, we're here to take you home." Beelzebub answers.

"Even after my betrayal?"

"We have never gotten over that. But knowing you are dying, we want to take you back first, Master. We will talk about this over in Hell."

"I'm dying, Mammon. I can't be there for the talk."

"That's why we have created a plan."

"We will wait for you to die, so that the office of the Pope will leave you. Then we will have Gamigin revive you."

"And I'll have Orias feed you angel's soul to make you young again."

"It won't work." You say calmly. "It's the sentence on all children of Adam. Gamigin's revival ability won't work. Just as your healing ability won't work on me, Lucifer, because I'm dying of natural cause."

The kings go silent. They know you could be right. Lucifer, more than anyone, knows you are right because none of the healing he is doing works. He only clings to some hope. You know you are crushing their hope, but you have accepted your fate long ago. At least you know they still love you. Thinking about that, tears start to flow from your eyes

"Where are Satan and the others?" You ask.

"Gehenna nobles are here. But Satan...he's very depressed after you left."

"It will be...too...late..."

The vision you start to see changes. The images of yourself and your memories, be it happy or sad, start to flash through your eyes. With each moment of you with the devils, your tears start to shed more as you can't help but say "sorry", "I miss you" and "I love you" in your mind. Your breathing becomes harder and you can't feel your body anymore.

Lord, forgive me, I wish I could have served you more faithfully.

I love you all and I'm sorry.

Is that Leamas and Nina waving at me?

Is that you... Minhyeok? It has been so long.

"You have done what you think is best. Now rest." The young man with long purple hair says and smiles. "With you, my bloodline is extinct, but I won't hold it against you." You can even hear a little bit mischief toward the end.

Outside the papal residence, the devil nobles, led by Sitri, Bimet, Foras and Bael, are engaged in a mostly glaring contest at the guards and exorcists and clergy who have arrived to aid the Pope. There are a few guards lying on the ground, but they are only knocked unconscious.

"No." Sitri suddenly laments as the shield around the palace disintegrated.

"That means..."

"Let's go inside."

As the devils rush inside, the clergy, exorcists and guards follow suit.

As they come into the room, they see the devil kings surrounding you, who are clearly dead.

"Holy Father!" All of Catholics in the room kneel down and weep.

"Who is the Camerlengo?" Lucifer asks and one cardinal stands up in response to his question. The Camerlengo knows what he has to do. He comes over to check your body to confirm if you are dead or not.

"I need a doctor. But all doctors left for safety. Only us clergy returned."

Lucifer turns and nods at Morax, who comes over to check on you. After finishing, he tells the Camerlengo his conclusion. The Camerlengo turns to all in the room and says.

"The Pope is dead."

The Camerlengo turns back to you. He kisses the golden ring on your right hand and takes it out and destroys it in the presence of all, signifying the end of your papacy. The Catholics make the sign of the Cross and say the prayers for the dead. A priest leaves for the adjacent room to say Mass for the deceased pontiff.

Even with the plan, the devil kings don't plan to stop the piety of the Catholics.

"Gamigin."

"Yes, hyung."

Satan arrives when the bells of the Vatican basilica are being rung. Hundreds of people in the square immediately get into prayers as they know what those bells signify. Satan doesn't care and speeds up his vehicle pass them.

Many thoughts are going through Satan's head: anger, depression, the feeling of betrayed, sadness, etc. But the biggest thought in his head is that he wants to meet you again. Everything else, let's sort out later. He speeds up the Akira into the papal residence. The Akira runs through the corridors until it arrives at the room of the Pope. Satan only stops because he can't go in further with the motorcycle. He can't wait to see his beloved alive and well because he believes in the plan. He did feel his bond with the human got broken earlier but he believes in Gamigin's ability to bring his human back.

"Where's MC?" Satan runs in the room and shouts.

"He's right there." Mammon says with a sad voice and points at the bed.

No. Satan rushed over to your bed. No, it can't be.

"Gamigin, why haven't you brought him back yet?" Satan shouts his question at Gamigin, who is holding his staff and stands behind Lucifer.

"Your Majesty, it didn't work. MC's heart will no longer beat." Sitri tries to stay composed as much as possible as he reports to Satan but the hand holding the tea cup is shaking.

Satan turns to the remains of you on the bed.

"OPEN YOUR EYES AND TELL ME THIS IS A CRUEL JOKE, MC!!!" Satan shouts and punches the wall on the side of the bed, making it crack.

All of the human in the room flinch at Satan's wrathful action, however, your lifeless body makes no move.

"I want to take MC's remains back to Gehenna." Satan says as he crunches his teeth.

"No, you can't do that. A Catholic must be buried on consecrated ground." A bunch of clergy react and state the Church's teaching.

"I will kill all of you." Satan crunches his teeth again. The clergy flinch but don't have any intention to back down.

"Your Majesty Satan," Paimon intervenes, "if you kill them, MC will be sad. After all, they are MC's spiritual children.

"I can let you consecrate a plot of land in Paradise Lost." Lucifer says.

"We have to see what he has written in his will." The Camerlengo says. "But his will can only be opened at the meeting of cardinals after the mourning period, but before the next conclave."

"How long before the next conclave?" Leviathan asks.

"15 days, the Canon Law doesn't allow anytime sooner." The Camerlengo answers.

Leviathan scowls but Beelzebub intervenes.

"Then let's wait for 2 weeks. If MC has a clause in his will to be buried in Hell, can you promise you will accept that and give his body to us?"

"Only with the condition of burial on consecrated ground and we can build a chapel around it."

"You have only mentioned the consecrated ground before, now you include a chapel. You human just keep asking more and more." Leviathan scowls again.

Before anyone can say another thing, the ground begins to shake like there is an earthquake. But it soon stops.

"They are here." Lucifer mumbles. "But they won't have any strength left to fight if we are here."

The devils all look outside the window and they see three shadows emerge from underground. They are the three Seraphim, finally released from their bondage after the death of their captor.

The Devil Kings immediately surround the bed to protect the remains of their beloved.

"Where is he? I'm going to cut off his head." Michael growls, he's so angry that blood vessel can be seen on his face.

Sensing the Devil Kings, the Seraphim all look at the papal residence, which is right beside the Vatican basilica.

"He-he's dead." Gabriel says as he looks at the remains on the bed through the window.

Seeing that you're dead, Raphael begins to laugh maniacally non-stop, so much that he has to hug his stomach mid-air.

"The kings are here. Let's...retreat for today." Michael says as his wings soar toward the sky. Gabriel follows suit.

"Remember to send funeral invitation." Raphael says finally before following his two brothers.

"Let continue our discussion later." The Camerlengo says after the commotion has subsided.

Some other people enter the room and walk toward the remains of the Pope.

"What are you doing?" Satan crunches his teeth as the newcomers.

"Calm down, Satan. They are here to take the body away for bathing and vesting."

All the devils don't want to leave you but they all back down to let people do their job.

...

"You really are so beautiful, Master, it's like all the precious things in this world are created to adorn you." Mammon says as he looks at the papal remains put on display inside the Vatican basilica of St. Peter.

You lying there, on a dark green catafalque. You are vested with red vestments, your hands are vested with red gloves embroidered with the Holy Name of the Savior, your legs wear traditional red papal shoes embroidered with a golden cross on each one. On each shoe is also adorned a ruby, which came from Mammon's treasury. A golden cross and a rosary were also put in your hands. The golden cross was from Lucifer, an accessory from the time he was still a Seraph. On your head, a golden mitre, with two folds, representing the Old Testament and the New Testament, the two "horns" of a bishop. Surrounding the catafalque are 72 candles made from pure beeswax, each represents a year of your pontificate.

The kings and their nobles stand on the upper floor of the basilica, looking at thousands of mourners paying respect to you. Each cardinal who comes over sprinkles holy water on your remains and kisses your hand. Priests and religious gather around your remains to pray for your soul.

At an occasion like this, Bimet would have already gone to collect funeral money. However, this time, he doesn't want to do that, but only to look at your "sleeping" face. Eligos standing next to him can't stop his sniffles. Valefor standing behind Mammon looking at your remains, now that nothing can be done to bring you back to them, he wishes he could stand guard beside your body as the last thing he could do for you.

Foras doesn't say anything but his heart is broken, even his beautiful horns seem to be darker than normal. Barbatos looks at the withered rose in his hand. In his heart currently there is a complete solar eclipse that has covered the sun of his life, the sun which he knows will never shine its light on him again. Glasyalabolas can't help but get angry with you, with Leviathan, with everyone, and with himself. Angry with you for being a traitor to his love. Angry with Leviathan for his bad decision of not pursuing you when the problem starts and only meet you when you are dying. Angry with everyone who separate you from him, including God. And angry with himself for failing the promise to create a kingdom with only you two. Orias drops the angel's soul in his hand. It was the angel's soul that was supposed to be used to make you young again. But what use is it when you are dead?

Bael is the only one staying in the basilica of Abyss camp, beside Beelzebub, closing his eyes remembering your smile and each moment you called his name sweetly. Stolas has gone somewhere to shoot his guns to his heart's content, calling it the last salute for you, who are "a fool". Naberius and Amon are staying with him, not speaking a word.

"It doesn't come true." Leraye remembers he once said he saw you both walking together on the streets of Gehenna, enjoying your time together for many years to come. But that never comes true. He's wondering of the only target he has missed is your heart, he fails in convincing you to stay in Hell. Paimon tries to console Leraye, but his heart is also breaking apart. Zagan doesn't say a word but he has lost an important person he must protect. Belial tries not to shed any tear, he has to stay strong for Jjyu. Sitri couldn't hold his tea cup anymore and it is dropped to the ground, shattering into countless pieces.

Andrealphus holds tight to his scythe, as if he needs something to hold tight to after he lost you. They say twins share a soul. He lost half of his souls when his brother was killed. But your death breaks to pieces the remaining half.

"It's my fault. I can't bring him back." Gamigin blames himself.

"No, it's not your fault." Each time Gamigin blames himself, a brother of his in Paradise Lost will reject that. They don't say anything more comforting because they have no strength to do that right now.

Each of the kings' heart is broken but each of them knows they have to stay strong, as for their nobles and people. They will only mourn your death in private.

Lucifer is the only one walking in the lower floor. He doesn't join the line of mourners but wandering around aimlessly, no one stops him either. Finally, he stops to look at the mosaic of the Eternal Father stretching his hand out on the dome of the basilica.

Why? Father, why? I have served you faithfully since the beginning of time, I had one source of happiness, and you took him away from me. Why? SAY SOMETHING! ANSWER ME!

...

In a graveyard in Korea, where almost no one comes on such a mourning day for the whole world, there is a little lump floating above a grave. He poured a glass of soju on the ground of the grave.

"Minhyeok, the son of Solomon...went over to meet you. Have you two...reunited? I hope you did. Please...send my regards to him." Ppyong says even though he can't stop his sniffles.

The end.

...

I have an epilogue but decided to not write it and let you guys decide the final burial place :)

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Bramhall

* * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

January 3, 2025

Heather Cox Richardson

Jan 04, 2025

Today a new Congress, the 119th, came into session. As Annie Karni of the New York Times noted, Americans had a rare view into the floor action of the House because the party in control sets the rules for what parts of the House floor viewers can see. Without a speaker, there is no party in charge to set the rules, so the C-SPAN cameras recording the day could move as their operators wished.

Republicans took control of both chambers of Congress: the House of Representatives and the Senate. All eyes were on the House, where Republicans will hold 219 seats. Initially, though, that number will be 218: The seat to which Matt Gaetz (R-FL) was elected will be empty since he resigned from the previous Congress and, after the House Ethics Committee released a report saying there was “substantial evidence” that Gaetz had broken state and federal laws, apparently decided to focus on his new media show rather than return to the House. When the clerk announced that Gaetz would not take a seat in the 119th Congress, applause broke out.

The Democrats hold 215 seats, and everyone showed up to opening day, including Dwight Evans (D-PA), who has been absent since suffering a stroke last May, and Nancy Pelosi (D-CA), who fell and broke her hip on a congressional trip to Luxembourg in mid-December. Scott MacFarlane reported that Pelosi, who received a hip replacement at the U.S. military's Landstuhl Regional Medical Center in Germany, entered the chamber smiling. C-SPAN reported that she had replaced her trademark high heels with flats.

Notably, there are fewer women in the 119th Congress than in the previous one, and there will be no women chairing committees in the Republican-dominated House.

The first problem for the Republicans to solve was the election of a House speaker. It took 15 ballots to elect Speaker Kevin McCarthy (R-CA) when the Republicans took control of the House in 2023, and McCarthy had made so many concessions to the far right that they were able to remove him from office just ten months later, the first time in history that a party removed its own speaker in the middle of a session. Then they cycled through four candidates and four votes before settling on backbencher Mike Johnson (R-LA) for speaker. But while Johnson’s evangelical Christianity and support for Trump’s Big Lie about having won the 2020 presidential election indicated he was an extremist, Johnson immediately infuriated the far-right wing of the Republican Party by agreeing to fund the government without incorporating their extreme demands.

Far-right members want to use the need to fund government operations as leverage to get what they want. In a memo before today’s vote, they claimed that Trump and the Republicans hold a “historic mandate,” although in fact Trump won less than 50% of the vote in one of the smallest margins in U.S. history. They have said publicly they would not vote for Johnson as speaker again, likely to extract concessions that give them more power, but Johnson vowed not to make any concessions to them.

Trump was mad at Johnson for backing the passage just before Christmas of a continuing resolution to fund the government without getting rid of the debt ceiling as Trump demanded. But, likely recognizing that the House needs to be organized before it can count the electoral votes that will make him president, Trump endorsed Johnson on social media and worked the phones to support him before today’s vote.

In the first ballot today, all 215 Democrats voted for Democratic minority leader Hakeem Jeffries (D-NY), with him and former House speaker Pelosi sharing a hug when she voted for him. A number of Republicans declined to vote initially, then 216 voted for Johnson while three others voted for someone else, leaving Johnson two votes short of the 218 he needed to be elected.

It was a dramatic rejection not only of Johnson, but also of Trump, who had posted that “[a] win for Mike today will be a big win for the Republican Party, and yet another acknowledgment of our 129 year most consequential Presidential Election!!—A BIG AFFIRMATION, INDEED. MAGA!” But his candidate still could not get the votes he needed from within his own party to run the House.

Scenes like this explain why I remain astonished by the persistence of the narrative that the Democrats are divided while the Republicans are in lockstep.

After the initial vote but before it was gaveled to a close, Johnson went into his office with eight members of the far-right Freedom Caucus, while Trump and incoming chief of staff Susie Wiles called the holdouts. When they emerged, two of the members who had voted for people other than Johnson switched their vote to him, giving him the votes he needed to become the speaker of the 119th Congress. One of the holdouts, Ralph Norman (R-SC) was the man who urged Trump to declare “Marshall Law” on January 17, 2021, to keep President-elect Joe Biden from taking over the presidency.

As soon as they had voted for Johnson, eleven far-right representatives sent a letter to their colleagues saying they had voted for Johnson because they wanted to make sure they didn’t mess up the January 6 counting of Trump’s electoral votes. But they warned that if Johnson didn’t reduce the deficit by enacting “real” spending cuts, stop working with Democrats, and only entertain measures supported by a majority of Republicans, they would challenge his speakership.

For his part, Democratic leader Jeffries said to the House: “Our position is that it is not acceptable to cut Social Security, cut Medicare, cut Medicaid, cut veterans' benefits, or cut nutritional assistance from children and families in order to pay for massive tax breaks for billionaires and wealthy corporations.”

So Johnson is speaker again, but he’s already caught between the MAGAs demanding significant budget cuts and the Democrats’ promise to call attention to every one of those cuts. And popular anger at billionaires seems to be increasing daily: today Pulitzer-Prize-winning political cartoonist Ann Telnaes left the Washington Post after her editor killed a cartoon criticizing the tech and media leaders who have been currying favor with Trump. “[E]ditorial cartoonists are vital for civic debate,” she wrote, and after watching colleagues overseas “risk their livelihoods and sometimes even their lives to…hold their countries’ leaders accountable,” she chose to leave so she could continue to speak truth to power.

This afternoon, Judge Juan Merchan ordered Trump to report in person or virtually for sentencing in the election interference case in which a jury found Trump guilty of 34 felonies related to payments he made to film actress Stormy Daniels to keep her from going public with the story of their sexual encounter before the 2016 election. Trump had tried to get the case dismissed because he had been elected president. His spokesperson called the sentencing order a “witch hunt.”

Merchan indicated he would not sentence Trump to serve time in jail.

Meanwhile, at the White House today, President Joe Biden awarded the Medal of Honor to five Korean War veterans who may have been denied the nation’s highest award for military valor because of their race or ethnicity, and upgraded awards of the Distinguished Service Cross to the Medal of Honor for two veterans of the Vietnam War. Specialist Fourth Class Kenneth J. David was the only one of the men who could receive the honor personally. Biden also awarded fourteen individuals with the National Medal of Science and nine people and two organizations with the National Medal of Technology and Innovation. He also awarded the Medal of Valor to eight public safety officers for acting above and beyond the call of duty. The awards went to officers who ran toward gunfire to save children during the Nashville Covenant School shooting, swam through freezing water to save a drowning woman, and rushed into burning buildings to rescue women and children.

Biden honored the military personnel for their bravery, and the scientists for their “discoveries that are helping us meet the climate crisis, treat crippling disease, create lifesaving vaccines, pioneer the way we communicate, and significantly improve our understanding of the universe and our place within it.” But it was his remarks about the eight public safety officers awarded the Medal of Valor for acting above and beyond the call of duty that stood out.

He called in the press and said: “Folks, I wanted you to come in because…I think it’s very important that the public see them and know who they are…. There’s a lot fewer empty chairs around the kitchen table and dining room table because of what these guys did.” Biden thanked their families, “because if you’re the spouse of a firefighter or a police officer, you always worry about that phone call,” and told the award recipients: “You’re the best America has to offer.”

Yesterday, Biden awarded the Presidential Citizens Medal, given to those “who have performed exemplary deeds of service for their country or their fellow citizens,” to twenty Americans including former Representative Liz Cheney (R-WY), who served on the January 6 committee. Today, Trump attacked Cheney and others who investigated the events of January 6, 2021, as “dishonest Thugs.”

Cheney responded: “Donald, this is not the Soviet Union. You can’t change the truth and you cannot silence us. Remember all your lies about the voting machines, the election workers, your countless allegations of fraud that never happened? Many of your lawyers have been sanctioned, disciplined or disbarred, the courts ruled against you, and dozens of your own White House, administration, and campaign aides testified against you. Remember how you sent a mob to our Capitol and then watched the violence on television and refused for hours to instruct the mob to leave? Remember how your former Vice President prevented you from overturning our Republic? We remember. And now, as you take office again, the American people need to reject your latest malicious falsehoods and stand as the guardrails of our Constitutional Republic—to protect the America we love from you.”

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[hypothermiatapes]

Do you think the schoolsystem was different back when Riddle was in Hogwarts? One of the biggest pet peeves I have with Harry Potter is the lack of subjects. It seems like such a waldorf school tbh, but without the benefit of emotional intelligence and being content with your life. You teach gardening and animal care but not old Greek, Latin, old Norse, old English or Sanskrit? (Most ancient spells and witchcraft would definitely be documented in one of these.) And don’t get me started on science. Why aren’t these kids taught math?!

I think it’s likely that there might have been more subjects during Tom’s time, but it’s highly unlikely they taught things like math and science.

The thing about education is that it’s closely related to the political climate no matter what. Harry Potter is based in Magical Britain where the rich are in control, the government is corrupt, there’s been two dark lords in under a century, and everyone is afraid of another one rising. This creates the perfect opportunity to begin to exert control over schools because a dumb population is a controllable population.

Dumbledore may be the Headmaster of Hogwarts, but the Board of Governors also hold a lot of control while the government likely funds the school to an extent. You must also remember that Dumbledore has been directly involved with the last two dark lords and is definitely a little paranoid. This is also post war and while it’s already been ten years they’re still affected.

War often makes the economy suffer greatly, and in order for schools to operate they need to get funding. Students and teachers are also often traumatized, there is usually a teacher shortage, and the curriculum will be disrupted (I’m not counting the destruction of the school since I’m not talking about the second war with Voldemort).

The first two points are self explanatory so I won’t add on to them. There will be a shortage of teachers because many can and will get killed while others will leave to help aid in the fight. The curriculum is often changed post-war to cater to the societies post-war needs. This could explain why there’s so few subjects because they’re focusing on the main subjects (potions, charms, transfiguration, etc.), and haven’t yet recovered enough to introduce more subjects outside the three electives.

Now, let’s move onto the control aspect. Dumbledore will not allow a subject like the dark arts into the school and any subject relating to it due to personal experience and the fact there’s already been a dark lord produced from the school. The government clearly is corrupt just from seeing Fudge at work so it can be assumed things like old languages won’t be taught because that means the population has access to ancient texts and I’m sure a lot ancient magic is considered dark.

The reason the government would want the population uneducated is because it’s what keeps people like Fudge in power. Good education means people can think for themselves, have been introduced to a wide variety of different ideas and topics while also being taught to recognize patterns. There’s a reason why they haven’t replaced Professor Binns, he keeps the students uneducated in history which means the government can do whatever the hell they want since nobody will see the patterns.

Theres also the fact this control will put purebloods on a pedestal since they’re more educated from growing up in the magical world and they have the money for more education. This method ensures that purebloods remain in power while halfbloods and muggleborns can’t rise too far up in society. It keeps the rich richer and the poor poorer. This is important especially after the war when many influential purebloods ruined their reputations making it harder to maintain control.

Now, muggle subjects would never be taught in Hogwarts during Tom’s time. It’s a well known fact that the magical world is very discriminatory towards the muggleborns and I can’t imagine what they think about muggles. Not teaching the population math, science, geography and other subjects creates a large barrier between the magical world and the muggle world. This means nobody taught in the magical world can thrive in the muggle world keeping them in the magical world. They also will look down on these subjects because muggles know them and magical folk are “above” them.

Tom would have likely had more subjects though since he was in school before a major war was waged in Britain. Now, he probably wasn’t taught ancient languages since I can see that being something only taught privately to purebloods to widen the gap. It makes it so mere muggleborns and halfbloods don’t have access to ancient texts that define the world they live in and makes them less reliable. In the end, it all has to do with power.

I hope this made sense, I’m not sure since it’s really hard to articulate my thoughts on this subject.

[mangokabuto]

Proof of Usopp and Nami being Luffy’s vice/co captains? I would (genuinely!) love to see your thoughts and evidence, bc big agree

(Context:)

Hello anonymous tumblr-using friend!

As someone with a lot of knowledge of & a great passion for real-life historical piracy, I have VERY STRONG OPINIONS about how the Strawhat crew would fit into an actual golden age crew structure. When I said "I have proof" I was jokingly referring to my knowledge of historical piracy and how the characters slot into those trends, not any sort of "in-anime/manga proof" of Usopp and Nami being ""co-captains"" with Luffy, so if that's what you're here for then sorry lol.

BUT if you want to learn a little about golden age western-world piracy, (and my "au" of sorts for how each crewmate would be recognized in that context,) stick around! :)

(extremely long explanation under cut LMFAO)

First off, as i said in my heated/j tags, "captain" did not usually mean what Oda makes it mean in OP's world. I am ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN Oda is just as passionate about & did plenty of research about historical piracy, and is clearly pulling a little from wakō history, but mostly from golden-age western piracy (specifically mostly the post-spanish succession period, to my estimation).

That being said. Why he puts so much emphases on Captains and First Mates is BEYOND me, because irl they were not as important.

The captain WAS important, don't get me wrong, but they weren't the sole reigning commander of a ship. They were more like a figurehead, most of the time. This is a sortof flimsy metaphor, but think of Captains like the modern-day king or queen of England; They're hyped up as the #1 leader, they're an important charismatic face for the group, and they technically have last-say on important matters, but they are beholden to two other groups (like the cabinet and the prime minister).

During the golden age of piracy, most crews were commanded by a group of three people. These three people were usually the Captain, the Quartermaster, and the Bosun. Each filled a different role on the ship, and all three were democratically elected by the crew. In all important matters, the three would discuss together how to proceed/solve the current problem, and though the Captain COULD overrule the other two at any time, that typically got him handily shoved overboard via mutiny. By technicality there was a heirarchy of power between the three stations, (with Captain usually being the top dog, then the Quartermaster, then the Bosun just above the rest of the crew,) but in practice they held equal sway in decisions that would effect the entire crew.

HOWEVER, outside of "big crew-wide decision-making moments" where you needed to assemble the three leaders, they didn't always have to coordinate. Depending on what situation the crew was currently in, one of them would be de-facto in charge of the crew, and the other two would step back unless the one currently in charge did something that needed to be challenged, like they made a bad decision or (in a more extreme case) broke the articles.

The Captain was in charge during times of battle. The captain's primary role was as a fighter, performer, and military commander! If the crew was attacked or about to attack someone else, the Captain would immediately take charge. (Now, real pirates weren't actually violent in practice as frequently as pop culture would have you believe, but that's a whole other topic. The reason "performer" is listed in the Captain's "jobs" is that part of their responsibility as a captain worth their salt was to scare enemies into surrendering without a fight through theatrics and reputation.)

The Bosun was in charge when the Boat was damaged or needed upkeep. The Bosun was not always the greatest carpenter or shipwright in their own right (in fact, in larger crews, they usually weren't either of those things), but they would be the one to get together with the shipwright and worksmen and assess damage, organize repair teams, and keep the boat running as well as possible. The crew followed their lead during repairs, and they were the go-to authority on any matters concerning the physical boat.

The Quartermaster was in charge the rest of the time. The way the Bosun is in charge of the physical boat, the Quartermaster was in charge of the crew. They were responsible for enforcing the articles, dealing out discipline, and the crew's general well-being outside of battle. In that same way that a bosun didn't have to be a shipwright, a quartermaster wasn't usually a doctor or cook, but they worked closely with them. Being in charge outside times of battle meant that the Quartermaster was also in charge of headings and navigation, and more often than not they were the ship's navigator, or head navigation/deck officer if their crew was large enough to have more than one nav. They also usually handled the crew's finances/pay and cargo. Is this starting to sound familiar yet.

So. After establishing the roles. I don't think I have to persuade you that while Luffy is most definitely the Strawhat Captain, Nami is our Quartermaster and Usopp is our Bosun. At the VERY LEAST this is true on the Merry Go.

You could possibly persuade me that Franky takes Usopp's place as Bosun once they get the Thousand Sunny, but I would be hard to convince. (I could be persuaded that Usopp loses his position as bosun on the Sunny, but Franky does not behave like a bosun as much as a head carpenter, and Usopp functions like his carpenter's mate. It's almost like, post-timeskip, they don't have a bosun anymore, and Zoro fills the newly empty position on the leadership trio?)

Now, these roles are not concrete, and they didn't always make up the "management trio" on a pirate ship. Some very small crews just didn't have enough people that they needed to single out their three favorite guys; they could just all vote on important decisions together. Sometimes the management trio included the surgeon or the first mate instead of the bosun. There were many crews where the Quartermaster was considered the top-dog highest authority instead of the Captain at all times. Even during the golden age pirate crews varied greatly, but the Captain/Quartermaster/Bosun trio was most common.

As for the ship hierarchy, there was a trend you could rely on no matter who the "three leaders" were. Everyone was generally considered of equal importance on a crew, (hence the elected offices and avenue for mutiny,) but there was a chain of command of sorts? Or at least people who would be shown greater respect and responsibility based on what they provided for the crew:

Captain and/or Quartermaster

Bosun and/or Surgeon/Doctor, and sometimes the First Mate

Everybody else, including captain's other mates.

Speaking of Captain's Mates... On larger crews, every important role on the ship had a "mate," or an apprentice chosen by the person in question to replace them if they should die, or otherwise be out-of-commission. Quartermaster's Mate. Bosun's Mate. Doctor/Surgeon's Mate. Carpenter's Mate. Etc. However, the Captain had MULTIPLE MATES, because his job was front-line combat focused. Ergo, he could easily die and need a replacement. Quickly. And his replacement could need a sudden replacement! So, depending on the size of the crew, the captain could have anywhere from two to eight mates, who were ranked by number. That's why the captain's highest-ranking mate is called the First Mate. Because there was usually a Second Mate. And then some more of em.

The First Mate's job is to be a good ass fighter, and back the Captain up on whatever they're currently doing. They hype the Captain up and enforce the Captain's decisions, no matter what that decision is. This is why they were usually not put in the management trio on most crews, cause you could imagine. The conflict of interest. (There's supposed to be three of them so that no one member has too much sway. Which could be sabotaged if two of the three are captain and captain's favorite soldier LMFAO)

I have no idea why, in the world of One Piece, all of the emphasis seems to be on Captains as the end-all-be-all leaders of their ship and the First Mate as the second in command. Especially when Oda clearly KNOWS about the other roles, since he's written characters that fall into them like perfect puzzle pieces!

...Well, okay, I have some idea. This is a shonen series for teens and being the captain/king/etc is wish fulfillment, and wouldn't be as cool for the projecting readers if you were part of a leading council with two other mooks. But. I can still be salty about it LMFAO <3

[potentiality-26]

Merwin (but! ☝️ it can be platonic) and the prompt is, even only as a voice on the other end of the line, Merlin isn't helpless.

Here it is at last! This went in a pre-Merhartwin direction. I'm just obsessed with Harry and I think Merlin and Eggsy are too.

Warning for violence, though not worse than canon.

--

For a moment, the view through Eggsy’s glasses was worryingly still. He’d hit the floor rather hard, though it would take more than that to disrupt Merlin’s view of the boots on the man who dropped him as he headed for the door. There was the slide and beep of a card reader, then the door opening and closing, and then —

Eggsy coughed. “Fucking knockout gas,” he said.

“It was powerful stuff,” Merlin agreed darkly. Normally he would be a bit more admiring, but he’d had three shocks in as many hours and though he wouldn’t admit it out loud he was feeling rather off-balance.

Two Kingsman agents had died at Merlin’s hand on V-Day, Valentine’s chips in their necks.

Harry was already lost to him before he took a bullet to the head, and though he was alive still and mostly well Merlin never entirely forgot that feeling.

James wouldn't wear the glasses at all if he could help it, no matter how much Merlin scolded him.

Merlin was rarely helpless, but it was only too easy to feel that way.

The view from Eggsy’s glasses went still again, as if Merlin’s voice had jarred him back to reality — an effect Merlin was normally proud of having. In this case Eggsy curled inward a little, crumpled, in a way Merlin hated, though he would never admit that out loud either. “Merlin. Fuck,” Eggsy breathed. He squirmed a little and Merlin could see his hands cuffed behind his back. “They got H — Arthur, didn’t they?”

“Yes.” The stumble over codenames made it clear to Merlin that Eggsy, too, was more off-balance than usual — and things had already gone rather to hell anyway. “He’s fine, lad.”

“You can — see him?”

“I cracked their security system while you were… indisposed. He’s in the main office.” That Merlin had done so only after Harry’s glasses were knocked off by an overzealous blow to the face, leaving Merlin with a terrible view of nothing but floor and a few boxes, he elected to keep to himself for now.

An old contact of Galahad's — Galahad here meaning Harry — had reached out, so Arthur had gone into the field with Eggsy — but it had been a trap, obviously. The knockout gas, Harry coming to surrounded by three bruisers just in time to take a punch… those were the first two shocks of the day.

Worrying for a moment that he might have lost eyes on Eggsy too was, of course, the third. "I can't find where you are," Merlin admitted. There were security cameras littered throughout the complex. But just where Eggsy had had been dragged, unconscious or merely playing at it, Merlin wasn't quite sure.

“No cameras,” Eggsy agreed, sounding a little dazed. “Looks like a storeroom.” His head was moving around too quickly — not the slow deliberate pan of an agent giving Merlin a good picture of his environment — something panicked, wild.

The men who had taken them prisoner had concluded — based on Harry’s age and certain vestiges of class neither man was entirely able to shed — that Harry was the higher ranking of the two. This was both factually accurate and a dangerous mistake — because they had dismissed Eggsy as unimportant. And Eggsy was smart, creative, and just on the right side of reckless. He was one of Kingsman’s best. He wouldn’t panic over a little knockout gas, and those cuffs should be child’s play for him. But, well — it was one thing to face danger alone. It was another altogether to have Harry Hart’s life in one’s hands. Merlin should know — he had been carrying it off and on for more than half his life.

“You’re all right, Galahad,” he said. “That means you’ll both be all right.”

There was a reason Merlin elected to run the trials when he had more than enough to be getting on with. By the time they were over a prospective agent had an almost automatic reaction to his voice. It wasn’t… trust, precisely — he lied to them too often for that — but perhaps… clarity. Of thought, of purpose. Certainty that they were alive, if not safe, and that as long as they remained so they had best keep moving forward.

His mistake with the recent Lancelot batch had been allowing the former Arthur to talk him into letting him run Eggsy’s final test.

Then again, perhaps things had turned out for the best — Roxy Morton was a brilliant Lancelot and Eggsy — Eggsy was Galahad, and Galahad was… special.

Eggsy rubbed his face quickly with his shoulder. “Yeah,” he said after a moment. “Yeah.” He maneuvered the cuffs in front of him in a single smooth motion and eased a slender metal pick from his sleeve.

“That’s more like it,” Merlin said.

The cuffs were off in a flash and Eggsy rose to inspect the card reader. He used his pick to pry it open. “Your show from here,” he told Merlin.

A good agent could follow Merlin’s instructions so seamlessly it was like his hands were Merlin’s hands — and Eggsy was a good agent.

The door was open in moments, and Eggsy poked his head into an empty hallway.

Eggsy slipped along the hallway and a moment later — “Yes, I see you, Galahad,” Merlin said. With a few keystrokes, he plotted out a course to where Harry was being held. “Take your next left.”

“Who the fuck are these people anyway?” Eggsy asked quietly as he obeyed.

“They haven’t been anywhere on our radar,” Merlin admitted. “And oversight I will repair shortly.” Once the two of you are safe didn’t need saying.

Merlin flicked his eyes back to Harry's screen. He was picking his own handcuffs behind his back. His arms hung loose, his shoulders relaxed, something of a hunter’s grace in his posture even as he took another blow. Merlin winced in sympathy. Unfortunately, while he was separated from his glasses, Merlin couldn’t tell Harry that Eggsy was coming for him. He would have to rely on the near-preternatural awareness that sometimes existed between the two of them — Arthur and Galahad. Harry and Eggsy.

The men were asking who Harry worked for and how much they would pay for his safe return. Harry was professing to be a tailor, just a tailor, wearing a look of innocent horror. Now, Harry’s horrified face was no more convincing than his innocent one — but these people’s ingenuity apparently began and ended with their rather special knockout gas. Even Harry could probably conceal just how dangerous he really was from them for a bit longer.

Probably.

“There’s a guard coming up on your right,” he told Eggsy.

They had relieved him of any obvious weapons, of course, but it took a lot more than that for a Kingsman to be unarmed. The guard was dispatched quickly and silently.

“Another left. And — there."

Eggsy fitted his back to the wall just outside the office, easing towards the open door. “I count three men in there. Besides Arthur, obviously.”

Eggsy’s head bobbed in silent acknowledgment as he clocked each of them in turn. His gaze lingered an extra moment on Harry, on his face. He had a split lip and the beginnings of a black eye, and he looked as stunning as ever.

“Let’s get our boy,” Merlin said. There was just something about working with Eggsy that brought him back to the days when that word described Harry rather better than it did now.

Eggsy whipped through the door. At precisely the same moment, Harry's attacker swung his fist and Harry rocked away from it, crashing to the floor chair and all, leaving the other men open for the darts Eggsy shot at them from his watch.

Eggsy reached the third man, still off-balance from the failed swing at Harry, before the other two even hit the ground. Eggsy yanked him the floor, hard, before hitting him, too, with a dart — this one right between the eyes.

Harry rolled smoothly up to his knees, a pilfered gun in his hand. “You might have left him for me,” he said, something exhilarated and luminous in his face despite the reproof. Eggsy probably couldn’t have taken his eyes off Harry if he wanted to. It was a shame, Merlin caught himself thinking, that he couldn’t also see the look of adoration that Eggsy normally wore at times like this. But then Harry retrieved his fallen glasses, and —

There it was.

“Lancelot is en route,” Merlin told both of them. “If you should happen to clear the rest of the building before she gets there…”

“Yes, Merlin.” Eggsy was grinning at Harry, but Merlin could see that he was — a bit — grinning at him too. “But later, we got something to discuss, you and me,” Eggsy added lowly.

Harry, at his side, raised an eyebrow but didn’t ask.

Let’s get our boy, Merlin remembered saying. He flushed, just a little, glad no one was there to see it. “When you get back,” he agreed at last.

“Like I always say,” Eggsy murmured. “You’re the guv'nor.”

[uboat53]

Here we go, in no particular order, here are some of my thoughts on what we'll see in the next year or two based on the election results:

THE ECONOMY

Unless something pretty serious happens, it's very likely that Trump will make good on his promise of massive tariffs on all American imports. Given that we import a lot of stuff from the rest of the world (check any manufactured item in your house, I'll bet it doesn't say "made in America"), that means prices will likely increase substantially. The predictable result of that is probably a pullback of consumer spending and a recession. If we're really unlucky, we'll have inflation and a recession at the same time, the dreaded "stagflation".

More broadly, it's likely that the only thing Republicans will do economically in terms of legislation is pass a massive, deficit financed tax cut for the rich. Again. Honestly, this is an easy one to guess because it's what they do every time they have power. It's direct effect will probably be minimal (though any effect is likely to be inflationary) although it remains an open question how long the US can run up the credit card without any major economic consequences.

We're also likely to see a wave of deregulation. Expect the new administration to try to roll back all of the consumer protections that Biden has put in place, end the lawsuits against big corporations that are exploiting their market power, and generally tilt the playing field back in favor of big corporations and wealthy people.

Oh yes, and let's talk about the immigration thing here. Trump is promising to deport millions of illegal immigrants (by current estimates there are about 11 million of them). And, look, I'm not a professional economist, but I think it's reasonably easy to guess what happens when you remove millions of people of working age from the labor pool. Again, this is likely to be inflationary (less workers available, so pay and, thus, costs, go up) and recessionary (fewer consumers buying things) at the same time.

PUBLIC HEALTH

With a knowledgeable public health expert like RFK Jr. leading the government's public health efforts, what could possibly go wr… sorry, couldn't finish that with a straight face. Yeah, Trump's gone off the deep end public health-wise ever since the public health people kept pointing out how badly he was screwing up his last major public health emergency, so now he's only listening to quacks and nut jobs.

The odds are pretty good that vaccines are on the target list and the administration will reduce or eliminate programs that encourage them. It's a good bet that, in the next decade or so, we'll see a resurgence of diseases like measles and polio that we thought we'd eradicated. Of course, if we get another pandemic like Covid, I'd bet on a high body count and massive economic impact as well.

We're also likely to see more and more women dying due to pregnancy-related complications. Biden was pushing hard to enforce a federal law that requires hospitals to save women's lives, but it's doubtful that Trump will keep doing that. He'll also likely not enforce any other protections and allow even stronger crackdowns on abortion in states that are eager to do so.

MINORITIES

If you're not a straight, white, cisgender, Christian man, things are likely to get a lot worse for you over the next four years. Look for the administration to take every opportunity to attack gay and trans people and to promote Christianity over other beliefs. The Civil Rights Division of the Department of Justice is also likely to be neutered, as it has been under every Republican administration since at least Reagan, so many states will happily violate the rights of racial minorities without any federal pushback. The same is true of laws and regulations that protect women.

Beyond the official, though, we also have to face the societal effects of another Trump Presidency. Despite the loud protestations of his supporters, Trump is beloved among the racist far-right, and for good reason. His administration borrowed heavily from their ideas and their language and even used their personnel and there's no reason to expect a second term to be any different. There is a reason that right-wing terror surged in our country in Trump's first term and it'll probably do the same now.

Expect more shootings of black and brown people and more attacks on Jews and Jewish places of worship. The racists believe the President is on their side and he's given them no reason to think otherwise.

THE NEXT ELECTION

All right, I'm going out on a limb here and this is my longest range projection, but it's a fairly reasonable bet that Democrats will take/retake the House of Representatives in 2026. I can confidently predict this because the party that controls the presidency has lost House seats in nearly every election since the Great Depression. Based on current results (which may change as western states count more votes), the Republicans will have a 4 vote margin in the House and the average midterm loss is 27 seats. Heck, they lost 47 seats in 2018 the last time Trump was in office. Even the Democrats who had a good year in 2022 still lost 10 seats. Seems like a pretty good bet.

As for the Senate, that's a bit harder to predict. At the moment, Republicans will have anywhere from 52 to 54 seats when all the votes are counted from this election. Based on the 2020 Senate elections map (that's the class of Senators that will be up for re-election in 2026), I'd count anywhere from 2-4 seats that the Democrats might be able to flip, the rest are probably safe. So is it possible that Democrats could retake the Senate in '26? Absolutely. Is it likely? Good question. Ask me in a year or so.

CONCLUSION

It's likely that life in America is going to get worse over the next year or two, how much worse depends a lot on how we react. At best, we'll likely face further inflation (every economic policy Trump has voiced support for is inflationary), increased sickness and disease, and increased attacks on the lives and well-beings of anyone who isn't a straight, white, cisgender, Christian man. At worst, well, all of those things but much more intense.

If we're fortunate, Democrats will take the House and serve as a much-needed check on the worst impulses of President-elect Trump. If not, at least the next election will likely do it, though a good deal of damage will be done between now and then.

[batboyblog]

A Tale of Two Judges

In federal court in Florida today a judge struck down a Florida law banning gender affirming care for minors as well as rules from the state's medical authority that set up barriers to trans adults seeking care

At the same time a federal court in Texas blocked guidance from the Biden Administration's Department of Education that Title IX should be understood as protecting trans students

And I think this is a great illustration that elections last LONG after they're finished, one judge blasted Florida's law as unconstitutional and quoted Dr. King in framing trans rights as the same as the struggle for racial equality and called on the courts to support them. The other gleefully sided with Republicans with Texas AG Ken Paxton declaring "“Joe Biden’s unlawful effort to weaponize Title IX for his extremist agenda has been stopped in its tracks"

The Judge in Florida was Senior Judge Robert Hinkle, he was appointed by President Bill Clinton in 1996, Hinkle took the semi-retirement known as senior status in 2016, but still hears cases as he did here. Hinkle also ruled in 2014 that Florida's ban on same-sex marriage was unconstitutional.

The Judge in Texas is Judge Reed O'Connor, He was appointed by President George W. Bush in 2007. O'Connor is very active in the conservative Federalist Society, Conservative Lawyers and Texas Attorneys General try to file their insane, legally nonsense, show boat cases in his court because if they get him he'll rule for the Republican side and against the Democratic side no matter what. In 2016 he blocked Obama Admin rules that declared Title IX meant trans students should be allowed to use the bathroom of their choice. While the Obama team appealed, once Trump was elected the rule was pulled and the case died.... hm. O'Connor is best known as that crazy man who ruled the Affordable Care Act unconstitutional in 2018, he was reversed, he ruled the Indian Child Welfare Act was unconstitutional, he ruled in 2022 the US Navy couldn't require Navy SEALS get Covid vaccines.

all to say when you get into a voting booth remember one of the things you vote for is Judges, who have a huge amount of power, and you can either get cool progressive minded judges who will still be making ground breaking rulings to protect civil rights 28 years after being nominated, or you can get conservative hacks who rule whatever wing nut thing they see on Fox 18 years after being nominated. During his Presidency Trump got to nominate 234 federal judges (Biden is currently at 201) including 3 Supreme Court Justices (Biden has 1) And those judges will be with us for years not like 10 years, or even 20, or even 30, no no no, Judge Albert Branson Maris was nominated by FDR in 1936 and served till his death at age 95 in 1989, JFK's last nominee, William Joseph Nealon Jr., passed away still hearing cases at the age of 95 in 2018 (the second to last passed away the year before in 2017) LBJ's last judge, Jack B. Weinstein, only passed away in 2021, there are at least 7 Nixon judges still hearing cases, 50 years after Nixon Resigned from office in 1974. We will be dealing with Trump's Judges for 40-50 maybe more years. So keep that in mind when you vote.

[leporellian]

thinking about mudclaw again as he lives forever in my heart. i think so many people are wrong about him. him and onestar are in reality two sides of the same paranoid coin and both of their actions are explained most by fear than anything else, which makes sense bc windclan was (still is?) the lowest-ranking of all the clans and constantly shit on in different ways by the other three especially in the tpb era. but of course instead of realizing that there's a sense of constant sunk cost fallacy and NEEDING to get to the top. tallstar is clearly mudclaw's father figure (at least like . the way i interpret things. what with shrewclaw's death and their interactions esp in winds of change) and mudclaw to some extent idolizes tallstar because he equates him- and leadership, and power, and etc- with the idea of windclan and the very ideal of their clan society. he certainly sees tallstar as fallible and doesn't agree with his decisions (and later becomes like almost annoyingly aware of tallstar's mortality) but i think it's in an 'only i can say that about him' way.

so of course when tallstar changes his mind and demotes mudclaw at the last possible second before mudclaw achieves (what is in his mind as) The One Path To True Success mudclaw feels a visceral sense of betrayal, not only because that was his father figure but also because it kind of flies in the face of everything mudclaw had led to believe was Worthwhile- all of it meant nothing, as does much of the system of the clans themselves do. but instead of willing to consider that (even if his subconscious sees it like A Little) mudclaw spirals into justification until he's ultimately turning on everything he once held dear to justify this One Perfect Concept in his mind of How Things Ideally Should Go. and then his own gods turn on him to kill him! as he dies in the same pointless battles that killed both his father and grandmother! fucking insane!

and the REAL tragedy is that even IF mudclaw became leader he'd fall apart into a paranoid wreck, just as much if not more than onestar did, because ultimately he and onestar have the same rampant paranoia and fear of reliance that dooms both of them. for all intents and purposes until near the end onestar wasn't too bad of a leader by clan standards; windclan certainly became much more self-sufficient and hardy under his leadership (thunderclan be damned lmfao) and for having been elected amidst civil war there wasn't That Much dissent going on besides like crowfeather or whoever thinking onestar was being a jackass. mudclaw not only should have never been deputy, there's no universe where he could've achieved his own definitions of success ad prosperity because he was born not only in a clan that will never fully escape its position as the bottom of the pecking order but in the shadow of a leader who possessed traits that mudclaw could never have and who didn't even want the same vision of windclan mudclaw did.

so like ! damn all that was for nothing ! and he was killed to make a fuck ass BRIDGE! And hes trapped inside a horribly written wildly christian children's book series FOREVER!!!!!! Insane!!!! Insane!!!! I am going to think about this freak forever!!!! in short

[zayray030]

Anon 🍓

I have head cannons on Aces family and I desperately need to share them with you.

Okay first things first: Ace has two last names. Trappola was his mother’s maiden name. And LockHeart is his father’s last name.

Aces Father: Mr. LockHeart runs a billion dollar company and is the head advisor to the current Queen of hearts. He and Ms. Roseheart compete against each other for the title. He has won every single adviser election.

Small story: Ms. Roseheart tries to threaten Mr. Lockhearts son(Ace) but fails due to almost being ruined politically and socially by even going near Ace. Mr. Lockheart is very protective of his sons especially the youngest

Aces Mother: She had died during childbirth from an unknown disease. Before she died she was considered one of the strongest magicians in the world. No one has ever met the rest of her family. Not even her husband and children

And finally

Ace’s Brother: he’s a fun one because I’ve decided that he works as a “Jester” for the Queen of hearts. A Jester is pretty much an assassin job. He kills those who are unforgivable and those who so much as think to harm the Queen (and his brother) He is probably the most protective of Ace

Ace’s Aunt: She is Mr. LockHearts twin sister. She went to NRC and was in Pomefiore. She tells people she snuck into NRC but in actuality she just hadn’t transitioned yet. One day she was kidnapped by a beastly prince who was trying to claim her as a bride. She kills the beast and becomes Queen of a forgotten Queendom. People call her the Blood Empress but it’s more of a side job for her. She’s actually one of the most renowned fashion designers in the world

Ace’s Grandmother: she’s a very sweet woman but in the past she was the Leader of a revolution that reshaped the Queendom of Roses into a better place. And that’s only when she was a teen. How do you think she knows so much about magic items. She has been through many shenanigans

And that’s it on the Family now to Ace himself

Ace is thoroughly convinced that his family is normal even though his magical power is slowly growing to be as strong as the 7

Okay that’s all I got, let me know your thoughts^^

I LOVE YOUR BRAIN!!

Nah, but Ace genuinely believing that his family is completely normal whilst half if not all of them are homicidal maniaca is hilarious

I can imagine Ace's brother lying and saying that he works at an amusementn park so he can see how happy Ace gets at the thought of one!

Ace's grandmother being a decendant of Alice??? Maybe that's why she caused the revolution

And I'm sorry but the trappola and roseheary family having parental beef is hilarious to me

[tobiasdrake]

Going underground now for the dwarven origins, beginning with Dwarf Noble. Let's hit up Orzammar, one of the last two surviving dwarven thaigs in Thedas.

So, right from the get-go, we have the Dwarven Faith codex entry. Dwarves consider themselves "Children of the Stone", which we now know to be literally true. They were born of the Titans.

Dwarves believe that they return to "the Stone" upon death. They practice ancestor worship, believing that their ancestors guide them through the unfolding of events.

Orzammar's best known for its Caste system, by which people are grouped into particular professions by blood inheritance. Wanted to be a soldier? Can't. You were born into Merchant Caste. Learn commerce.

There's something truly ironic about dwarven culture, in that regard. The Divine Right is so thoroughly baked into every orifice of their society. Merit defined solely by blood inheritance governs all walks of life.

Except the monarchy. (XD)

The King of Orzammar is an elected position accountable to the Assembly. Orzammar isn't a true democracy; The deshyrs who sit in the Assembly are all representatives specifically for noble families who do pass down power by blood inheritance. But it's still kind of amazing, in this culture, that being the child of the king doesn't entitle you to jack fucking shit.

Orzammar is a self-defeating paradox of a place. This is no less true of the ruling House Aeducan than of anyone else.

The Dwarf Noble draws their lineage from House Aeducan. Their governance dates back to the First Blight in 7205.

The irony of the Aeducan clan is that, despite Orzammar leadership thinking the Caste system is neato, their millennium-long monarchy didn't come from a Noble Caste family at all. One of the many contradictions that Orzammar politely ignores.

Originally, the other surviving thaig Kal-Sharok was the capitol of Dwarven civilization. Orzammar belonged to the Miner and Smith Castes. This would have been the state of affairs for between 3,000-6,000 years. Could even be longer.

The Veilguard timeline is a little fuzzy on when, exactly, the Evanuris tranquilized the Titans and inadvertently created both Blight and Dwarf. But Kal-Sharok was the capitol of the burgeoning Dwarven civilization until the developed trade relationships with the Tevinter Imperium, which would only be established in 6405 and would reign unchecked for about 800 years before the First Blight.

Somewhere in that 800 year period, Orzammar became the capitol in place of Kal-Sharok. This was done by Paragon Garal to give the Assembly more oversight over their trade relations.

For context, Tevinter had a trade highway that ran from their capitol Minrathous through the Frostback Mountains and down to southern Ostagar. We'll see more of that later. Since Orzammar is right up on the edge of the surface and even has a passage that opens out into the Frostback Mountains, it's perfectly positioned for trade with Tevinter.

This was kind of a big deal. So, centuries before the Blight, Paragon Garal moved the capitol away from the thaig that had been their capitol for millennia. Trade became a cornerstone of dwarven society.

Too bad about those dwarven traders though.

The paradox of Dwarven politics at work has decreed that dwarves automatically become Casteless if they ever go up to the surface. This is despite Orzammar being a centuries-long trading hub that's even more dependent on trade now that the Darkspawn have eaten the rest of dwarven civilization.

This is a point of contention within Orzammar, as Lord Dace here is attempting to change dwarven law so that

House Aeducan rose to power following Paragon Aeducan, though Aeducan was no Noble Caste dwarf. The way Paragons work is basically Dwarven Sainthood. The dwarves recognize you as a shining example for all dwarves to follow.

With the knock-on effect that Paragon-hood uplifts your family into Noble Caste.

So we should all obey the Nobles because their blood-inheritance says they know better than us. But also, anyone who knows better than the Nobles is made nobility so that we can continue to believe that the Nobles know better than everyone else. Make sense?

Aeducan was a Warrior Caste soldier on that fateful day. You know the day.

The day the Evanuris tricked the Magisters Sidereal into breaching the Black City and unleashing the Blight.

The dwarves and the surfacers disagree on how that happened.

The human Chantry believes that the Darkspawn came from the Black City in the Fade. They were a plague unleashed upon humankind as punishment for the Magisters Sidereal's hubris.

The dwarves disagree. They believe that the Darkspawn came from the depths of the earth. This is a practical belief rooted in the demonstrable fact that they emerged from the Deep Roads and overran dwarven civilization long before the surface had even heard of them.

They're both right. It was the Magisters Sidereal who breached the Blight's containment and released it into the world. It then poured upwards from the depths, possibly from the Titans themselves. Under the guidance of Dirthamen and his Archdemon Dumat - colliding with the Titans' children in the population centers they had built.

In fact, Paragon Aeducan even laid eyes upon Dumat once, describing her (high dragons are female, the mythology of the Old Gods is wrong) in the codex entry "The Blights" as a Paragon of darkspawn.

Can you imagine? The dwarves had never in history laid eyes on a dragon before Dumat. Aeducan had no idea what he was looking at. Only that it was terrifying.

No one had ever heard of the Blight until the day it crashed into the dwarven thaigs on its way to the surface, under the command of whatever this fucking thing is. A crisis the likes of which dwarven culture was not equipped to handle.

The loss of thaig after thaig after thaig was a failure of leadership. The dwarves were powerless to defend themselves because their leaders were too busy bickering in the Assembly over who to defend. Every noble house demanded the army protect their holdings above all others, leaving their military divided, aimless, and unable to stop as the Blight swept through them all.

The selfishness of nobility destroyed dwarven civilization.

Orzammar survived only because Aeducan sidestepped the politics and took charge of the army. He rallied the various Castes to provide support to the Warrior Caste, betrayed the dwarves' sacred hierarchy by disregarding the noble Assembly, and saved Orzammar. The last of the thaigs. (Except the other one.)

A vote was held in the wake of Orzammar's survival to determine if Aeducan should be made a Paragon. History recalls it passing with no dissenting votes, only one absentia. History does not recall, though the historian mentions in conversation, how the "absentia" vote came about: It was a vote of dissension, but the other deshyrs beating the dissenting deshyr to death on the Assembly floor for dissenting.

Politics!

This is how it goes. On paper, Paragons are a patch built into the system to ensure that the best and brightest may lead the dwarven people. In practice, Paragons introduce a whole mess of complications, which meet you the instant you step out of the Dwarven Palace and into the Diamond Quarter.

This is Bruntin Vollney and Scholar Gertek. Right outside the palace, they're having a public argument because Bruntin wants public records of Paragon Vollney being kind of a shitweasel stricken from history.

Vollney became Paragon by the slimmest possible margin and their ascension was mired in scandals, with rumors abounding of bribes, corruption, and blackmail. All of which is recorded accurately by history, much to Bruntin's dismay. He wants the truth wiped from the slate.

Because that's how nobility under the Paragon system works. When the ruling class derives power solely by historical remembrance of past merits, it creates a perverse incentive to only remember history in ways that are convenient to the ruling class.

In practice, the system uses Paragonhood as a built-in defense against having to reflect on the failures of their politics. Aeducan betrayed what the dwarves stand for and saved Orzammar where dwarven politics left nearly all other thaigs annihilated. For his radical actions and insubordinate heroics, they elected him King. They raised him up to Paragon status. And they learned absolutely nothing.

Oh, and they killed an Assembly member for disagreeing. Dwarven nobles are cutthroat. Just. As a natural order of business. Everyone expects treachery and murder in the noble class. Remember Vollney? If you side with the scholar against him, Gorim asks you this as a matter of course.

"Yeah, fuck that guy. Want me to have him killed in broad... whatever passes for daylight in our society?"

Sure, Gorim. I want him slit from crotch to throat and hung from a light fixture as a warning to others 'cause that's how dwarf politics work. You're the best, sugar 'stache.

Up to this point, they remain on the throne. King Endrin Aeducan is the governing monarch as of the start of Origins. With three heirs to succeed him: The eldest Trian Aeducan, the Dwarf Noble, and the radical youngest Bhelen Aeducan who fraternizes with Casteless.

Hi, Rica! She's just called "Mistress" in the Dwarf Noble origin but she's a part of the Dwarf Commoner origin. Bhelen is quite taken with her, despite their relationship being considered pearl-clutchingly scandalous by Orzammar standards.

Trian, by contrast, is a proper upstanding dwarven noble.

By which I mean he's a classist piece of shit. Trian is first in line for the throne (pending Assembly vote), which he knows quite well. And at any sign of disobedience from his sibling, he'll make sure the Dwarf Noble knows it too.

Trian also has opinions about Bhelen's dalliances with Rica. In his journal, he's noticed Rica milling about outside of Bhelen's room. So he accuses her of theft because her boobs are too big to be a "decent" woman's bust. And I quote.

"Must have been trying to steal something, or already had. Bosom seemed fuller than most decent ladies. Some jewels hidden in the bodice?"

What the actual fuck, Trian? He also suggests Bhelen should keep her confined to his room, like a pet.

Trian is a cruel, elitist, self-important piece of shit who would most certainly drive Orzammar to ruin if he became king.

The part where Bhelen frames the Dwarf Noble for committing the murder is a bit rude, however. Credit where it's due, though; Bhelen plans this assassination well.

He first tries to conspire with the Dwarf Noble by convincing them that Trian is plotting against them, and they need to get him first. Then he plants two of his men in the Deep Roads to accompany the Noble on their mission.

If you didn't buy into the idea that Trian was coming for you, Bhelen has Trian killed ahead of time and lets you find his body, just in time for you to be found with the body.

If you did, he plays you and Trian against each other, informing Trian that you were plotting to kill him and letting accusations and unreasonable tempers fly where they may.

If you still manage to be reasonable during that, one of his men has orders to open fire on Trian and his men, provoking a fight anyway. Bhelen's accounted for all possible scenarios here. It's very clever. Ruthless, pragmatic, and treacherous. But clever.

No matter which way you slice it, Bhelen cuts down both of his siblings and leaves himself and his radical politics as the (seeming) only potential heir to the throne of Orzammar. He planned his coup exceedingly well.

Though not so well that it escaped Lord Harrowmont's notice, but that is the plot for the Orzammar section of the main game proper.