#and society basically punishes you for being single so like it’s not as though i don’t understand all the varying pressures

[ranger-kellyn]

Idk I guess I’m on a roll but like. Marriage to me isn’t just a declaration of “I love this specific person”. It isn’t this excuse to have a big, expensive ceremony.

Marriage is a contract that states, “In the event of my death this SPECIFIC PERSON is who i want to take care of. If I die, I want all my shit to go to them, ie my house, my money, my life insurance money, my kids if i have them, my pets, etc. If I become unable to make medical decisions for myself, this is who I trust to make those decisions for me.” And like…I really don’t know if enough people ask themselves “Is this who I want to take care of if I die? Is this someone I trust to make medical/financial/etc decisions in the event I’m unable to make those decisions for myself. Is this the person I want to make those decisions for in the event they’re unable to?”

I get that it’s scary to think about those things. The average person probably doesn’t enjoy thinking about death and sickness that way but like…I really think we have to get people over their fears of those things. They are facts of life. Marriage requires you asking and answering [TRUTHFULLY!] those questions. DO YOU trust your partner to make those decisions for you? Do you trust yourself to make those decisions for your partner?

You need to be able to say yes to all of that without a shadow of a doubt. Otherwise, don’t get married. Don’t legally tie yourself to someone you don’t trust with any of that.

[genderkoolaid]

expand on ur "mental asylum Marxism shit" thing about children & grief?? from what you've said im pretty sure i will relate from my own experiences as a grieving child. also it sounds interesting!!

so i was thinking about how weird it is that, when a child has to deal with the death of a loved one, they say something like "no child should have to go through this! no child should have to even think about death!" which strikes me as weird because i was a child who dealt with the deaths of multiple close family members, very close together. the first was my great-grandmother, who i lived with and who was my best friend. death was never foreign to me (my mom has always been very death-positive on top of all that). grief was just part of my life like everything else was.

but i realized that its because people think childhood should not have any flaws. you should be 100% happy and fulfilled all the time. any time a child experiences anything painful, its bad. not "children should have access to love and support," but "children should not have basic life experiences because the idea of childhood being anything other than fluffy purity scares me."

because children in society are fundamentally not people. especially in a society structured around christian beliefs in natural law theory, that what is natural = what is good, healthy, and Divinely commanded. so on top of children being the property of adults, they are also forced to be the symbols of Nature. whatever is the most useful to whoever needs them. which means we built up this idea of children as tabula rasas, pureness incarnate. like a magic mirror where if we look into it, we'll be able to catch a glimpse of the true face of humanity. every single thing children do can be scrutinized for some grand truth about humans as a whole. and then, the ways children are treated also reflect how we think humanity should interact with its own nature.

example: the idea of humanity as inherently sinful and wicked, with that urge needing to be suppressed through state violence (hello hobbes) = the idea that children are annoying and shitty on purpose and need to be forced via punishment into being Good Citizens.

this is also why children cannot be trans, even though all trans people must prove that we were trans children. being queer must be unnatural; and even if not, its inherently sexual, and sexuality is dirty and bad. so children can't be trans, and they also can't read books on puberty until their parents decide when and what exactly they are allowed to learn. child victims of sexual assault only matter to the extent that they can be used as a symbol of a cultural threat; calling Jewish or trans people pedophiles means saying that they are foreigners attacking basic human nature, and indirectly, Divine command. if you aren't the right kind of victim, or when you inevitably reveal yourself to be A Person with complicated experiences and opinions, you are no longer of use to the agenda.

it sucks that bad things happen to anyone. aspects of youth can exacerbate the pain sometimes, but sometimes it does the reverse: I wish I could have spent more time with the family members I lost, but I know other people who are glad they loss family members young, because they weren't really hurt by it. I think the main thing is that, even sometimes when we talk about our past selves, we project this cultural idea of Child As Purity and ignore the actual person having the experience. when we "empathize" with children by projecting Purity onto them, we aren't actually connecting with them.

[that-ari-blogger]

Fantasy Australia (The Edge Of The World)

How do I open this post?

Almost every episode this season has had majour revelations, but this is one of the most significant. Every episode has had multiple themes that it has played with, but this one weaves them all together so incredibly seamlessly. Every episode has made an attempt at emotionality, but this is one of the few that genuinely has me bawling at almost every watch though.

So, yeah, this episode is dense, but it doesn’t feel like it. There is a ton of information here that goes straight to your brain without having to be pointed out. Combine that with the substantially ambitious plot, and this episode is really efficiently written.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD: (The Owl House, Nimona, Glee)

I’ve said before that certain stories don’t go places, and instead start there and get more detailed in their examination of it, and I’d like to clarify that here with a contrasting example. The Owl House goes places.

For an example, let’s look at an earlier episode that tried to do something with King, that being Really Small Problems. I know it isn’t a fair comparison, but that’s kind of the point here.

Really Small Problems comes towards the end of the first season. The series has got its mind around what it wants to do, and it shows us the growing camaraderie between the characters. Amity isn’t Luz’ friend yet, let alone girlfriend, and Eda gets in trouble with the “Fun Police.”

It is a fun episode, with the main conflict being King’s fear of abandonment. He doesn’t want to be left behind, so he accidentally causes an issue. By its very nature, this episode is small in the big scheme of things, and it’s not trying to be anything else.

“Dumb kids? Wait, those are my dumb kids!”

This isn’t from King, but it does help me segway into The Edge Of The World. By the time the final arc rolls around, Eda realising she has to look after people has turned into a desperation to protect them from all danger.

“This is so much bigger than I imagined, Lily. I thought Luz was just some lost kid, but because of me she’s wrapped up in this thing with Belos and its… it’s just not fair. She and King are children. They shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

Up until this point, I agreed with everything that Eda had said. They are kids, get them away from the danger, that’s basic parenting. This isn’t a “let them make their own mistakes”, this is something that could get them killed and is actively detrimental to their mental health as it is.

I genuinely love the shot composition of this one moment. We get Everyone at a different distance, guiding your eye through the shot. But you also have Eda leaning in to get between them all and physically disrupt their plans.

However, I want to disagree with Eda on one key element of this. It is not her fault.

Because, yeah, if she hadn’t been exiled from society, or if she hadn’t been cursed, things would have gone much better for everyone. But I’m using passive voice for a reason. It wasn’t Eda’s fault that someone cursed her, it wasn’t Eda’s fault that society exiled her. Someone decided that wild magic was punishable by death, I would place more blame on that person than on Eda.

Focusing in on the curse bit for a second, Eda has forgiven Lilith, and the two have a much healthier relationship. This is most exhibited by fact that Eda can be honest with her, and the reaction she gets is a hug and reassurance.

“We have a whole week until the Day of Unity. We'll figure out how to keep them safe.”

Did you catch that, though? Two lines, and we have two character arcs set up, as well as a deadline being established. The next few episodes all take place in the span of a single week.

This is the equivalent to the last season of The Clone Wars turning to the camera and saying, “Duku’s dead, buckle up”.

This is the opposite of drip feeding, it���s a lot of stuff happening very quickly. Your brain can only focus on one element, but you do register the rest subconsciously.

The technique has already been used less than thirty seconds prior to this, with Hooty dropping the Chekhov’s Gun that is the army on the house’s doorstep in the middle of Eda’s breakdown. You are so focused on the fact that this is white noise to her that you almost miss this. Almost.

If you did notice that information becomes Hitchcockian suspense, as you will spend the rest of the episode stressing about Eda and Lilith. If the episode just ended on the cliffhanger with no setup, you would panic at the end, but you know it’s coming. You look forwards.

Zooming out for a second, I want to talk about the purpose of storytelling and how it relates to analysis.

Stories exist, first and foremost, to communicate with their audience. That is how we end up with shallow stories and dense stories. A shallow story is trying to communicate itself and not much else, and this is not definitively worse or better than a more complex story. Sometimes, the story just wants you to have a good time watching it, and that’s ok.

As such, a key tool in any writer’s arsenal is engagement. If an audience member connects with a story, they are a more likely to understand the plot and themes and all other relevant elements.

It’s not essential, There Will Come Soft Rains is a short story by Ray Bradburry that is intentionally uncomfortable to read, and that’s because the aim is to get you to stop reading and take action.

Look at these character designs. They're so unique and personable. But they're also weird. King's eyes don't match these at all. Maybe they aren't as similar to him as they claim.

The Owl House is a series that, for the most part, likes to be engaging, and The Edge Of The World does this especially well through worldbuilding. You find out that this world has a version of Australia, and you don’t ever get to explore it, you just get glimpses.

The series has rewarded curiosity up to this point and trained you to pay attention to its actual plot. So, let’s actually talk about that.

Stop me if you’ve heard this one. A character spends the story learning something about themself that explains part of who they are. But oh no, the characters family, who was so accepting up to this point, is suddenly unforgiving. All the character wants to do is engage with their family and cultivate that relationship, but the basic detail of who they are gets in the way of that, culminating in the following:

“You were never one of us.”

This is the plot of Nimona, my single favourite moving picture ever made.

Nimona is a fundamentally queer movie, with its eponym’s shapeshifting nature causing her to be ostracised. She is othered because of who she is, when all she actually wants is friendship.

But Nimona is actually a secondary character in her own movie. It’s not about her, it’s about the other side. Nimona is about someone who has been societally conditioned to be a bigot learning the error of his ways.

The film is a subversion that doesn’t focus on humanising the queer person, instead using that as a baseline and explaining that it is possible for an asshole to change.

But this is all very cerebral. What about a more blatant example?

“I’m just too tired. I have to just be me.”

“Everyone has secrets, Santana. They are called secrets for a reason.”

This is part of a conversation that takes place between Santana and her Grandmother in Glee, leading up to Santana’s wedding to another woman. This is Santana coming out to her grandmother, and I want to highlight the acting here.

It’s quiet, and comfortable. You can tell that these two share a kinship. But the second Santana starts being honest, Abuela starts looking around for an escape, clearly wanting to be anywhere she is not. Who Santana is has created a rift between her and her family.

This is, notably, subverted at the wedding itself. There are not many moments in any media that can make my stomach drop without fail, but the second Abuela walks through the door is incredible. It’s a moment of connection and overcoming of prejudice. It’s a story beat that communicates itself to you entirely in four seconds.

If we pivot this back to King for a moment, we end up with a very similar story. It’s about King discovering he is a Titan, a word that doesn’t mean anything in our world, so we are free to engage with it as we wish. Then, he is shunned by the people who claim to be his family.

His fear of abandonment from previous episodes has been put on full display. We have set up why this would hurt him as much as it does

You could make a note about how this episode relates to interpretations of faith through the Titan Trappers' admiration for the Collector, who in turn doesn't appear to know who they are, so the Trappers are instead making things up as they go. You could notice that. But I won’t.

The Owl House resolves its main conflict by giving King two families of his own. The first is the found family of Luz, Hooty, and Eda, who contrast the stereotypical family things that the Trappers do with actual love and affection. But, he also has the land itself, which guides and protects him.

Before I go, I want to briefly mention a piece of fanart. Spoilers for the entirety of the series from this point onwards.

The most important shot of this episode, to me, is one of the final ones. King, looking out, returning to his home, but with different eyes. He’s choosing to engage with it, but he’s still staring at the vastness of his own future.

The artist @kaereth then offered another angle on this scene, quite literally.

The land is guiding King, his parent was always there, always watching, always looking after him. Because someone can’t talk to you doesn’t mean that they aren’t present.

The Titan is effectively dead in this series. Like, sure, he’s alive in there, but he ain’t doing much. This is the closest the two get to actually sharing a conversation, and it’s the moment before everything goes to hell.

Fun fact, this is what traveling in Australia actually feels like, so kudos for the accuracy there.

Final Thoughts

This is what I meant about The Owl House being a queer story rather than just a story with queer people in it. It’s about identity and family and belonging. It’s about freedom and escape from bigotry.

Because being queer doesn’t make you any different from anyone else, it just means maybe you like or don’t like different people or express yourself in a different way. It’s just a thing that people are.

Next up, Labyrinth runners, the culmination of the most important character arc in the entire show. That of one Principal Bump. Stick around if that interests you.

Previous - Next

[acaciapines]

obviously if you’re busy leave this alone but: your tag essay has made me VERY intrigued about Dess and Azzy’s relationship in this AU. Tell me about it?

(also, did you see they did an announcement about Starship Iris season 3? It’s finally gonna happen!)

okay IM HERE TO TALK LOL i will NEVER not talk about this au <3 uhhh under a cut bc. really i should just expect these get super long.

big important note up top: all of this is in! early stages! things are not fully formed and researched yet so please keep that in mind as you read this. ideas might change and will get deeper as i do more work for this au, but since rn im focusing on owl house most of these are my ideas i've had without time to do deeper dives into them.

okay so with asriel i've always sort of written him as this guy who like...has an idea of what is 'normal' in his head, ie, what society wants from people, and what it doesnt want, and he has tried his hardest his entire life to always fit into this box. (think about i know im not well--this is why he's always seen kris as a human. being nonhuman is abnormal and gets you punished in society. to an extent this is also how he views dess being aromantic.)

i think a lot of this comes from fear--asriel IS for sure contorting himself and actively harming himself to stay inside this narrow box of 'normal' (think of this as another sort of prophecy--these are all touching on the same themes). and he applies this same mentality to other people BECAUSE of this fear, because he doesnt want his loved ones to be hurt, to be punished, ostracized, etc by society--which are i wanna be clear VERY MUCH THINGS THAT HAPPEN--but in doing this he sort of just hurts the people he loves. because instead of being someone who rejects these boxes hes like. no we gotta be good and fit into the boxes and then everything will be okay.

so when it comes to dess, dess has always very much Done Her Own Thing, consequences be damned. partly this is who she is, partly this is hashtag undiagnosed and untreated mental illness, the onset of which happens around when shes 18 and everything is going down with the bunker (which is NOT helping at ALL). and so when dess comes back from the bunker asriel does very much go 'oh. shes delusional.' and proceed to be No Help At All.

and like, the thing is dess IS very much having a psychotic break. this bit is very much still in deep research (sidenote: anybody in my audience who has experience w/ these things. feel free to hit me up/dm me lol i'd love to talk through some of my ideas as a sort of preliminary sensitivity read, but of course only do this if you are up to it, no pressure lol bc again we're in early stages) but she has schizoaffective + bipolar disorder. dark worlds dont help with this, asriel SUPER doesnt help with this (he doesnt know her actual disorder--neither of them do, this is the onset of things. but tbf even if he did he Would Not Help asriel is essentially doing everything wrong here.) and what dess needs is literally one single person in her corner but the person who is supposed to be in her corner (azzy) is basically being like 'you are making this up' and shes like im NOT, and everything is all mixed together, terrible, bad, awful, and eventually everything culminates and. we know what happens.

(side note but this is why she and chara work real well together actually--chara gets her when asriel doesnt!!)

asriel never actually like. tells anybody about this though. in his head after its assumed dess and kris have died he sort of just. is like well this proves it. i cant let anybody else i care about go that far EVER AGAIN, because if i was a better friend i would've noticed and i wouldve stopped it and made dess "normal." (yes asriel sucks here. the focus is on the kids but. he's getting an arc. i do promise he will get better but. that doesnt really fix what he's done in the past.)

and all of this is like. it fucking sucks for the people around asriel. in hurting himself he's hurting his loved ones--it pushes dess away, and that relationship is never going to be the same. even when asriel realizes how he fucked up i dont think dess really forgives him. because if asriel had just believed her, or at least even if he didnt actually took her seriously and tried to help, shes like. things wouldve gone differently. and asriel knows this too.

and then when it comes to NOELLE, well. asriel's always been very overprotective of her. terrified the world is going to hurt her. and so when noelle starts experiencing things, things she cant tell if theyre real or not...

she doesnt tell him. she doesnt tell anybody. she keeps it all to herself, and this means its a hell of a lot easier for the player/red soul to manipulate her. and nobody finds out until its too late.

[starcrossedkaiju]

From this post:

all the unrealized concepts I had for a Third Life novelization with pretty in-depth world building and backstory that I never really got to see through because of circumstances but. Yeah.

If you don't mind, I'd like to hear more about it 👀👀👀👀 (not forced)

Yeah ofc!

Slight disclaimer that I did most of this back in the olden days of 2021 when 3rd Life was the only life series installment, and it wasn’t known for sure whether or not any more seasons would be made. I also unfortunately have not watched anything after Last Life, so I don’t really know The Lore past what I’ve made up.

The general idea was to write a play-by-play of the actual Third Life events, except the timeline spans multiple years rather than days/weeks. With the characters all starting out in their late teens to late twenties and ending about ten years later. There would be heavy focus on the world before the borders went up. As in, there used to be a functioning society that fell into ruin and division after years of civil war, and as punishment (and to cover up their own crimes), the Administration of the server (the equivalent of a governing body irl) basically locked everyone away and threw out the key.

The events that happened before the borders would obviously inform the characters’ decisions throughout their time trying to survive in the 3rd life map, as they all came from different backgrounds in the somewhat dystopian world they used to live in. Mainly in that a few of them were much closer to privilege than the others, and prejudice against one another must be overcome from the very start if they want to live through the first winter, and then the rest of their lives.

I won’t go into the specifics of every single character’s pre-game lives because that would be entirely exhaustive (though I may on a separate post if there’s interest); but I will give a little run down of Scott’s deal since his is the most different and he’s also the one that post is about.

Scott is not actually from the 3rd Life server (servers would be kind of like planets or something). He’s from another world which was taken over by greifers. It is subtly implied that this world used to be the Origins SMP map (this dates me significantly, I was not lying about this all being conceptualized in 2021), but it is unrecognizable now. He was twelve when the world was destroyed and taken over, and as a powerful Origin, he had to hide his identity as to not be press-ganged into working for the greifers. Hence the veil and the modest clothing. Eventually, when things went even more to shit, his father “broke the game” and forcefully sent Scott out of the world; and in a stroke of cosmic unluckiness he landed in the Third Life map when he was sixteen. Although much to the confusion of certain characters, Scott actually seems to like it there better.

So that’s the abridged version! Tldr I guess I would advertise it as a survival thriller with some political drama aspects.

[daenerysoftarth]

I’m Chinese and having a child out of wedlock remains taboo in our society. One of my cousins had a child outside marriage & her parents cut off contact with her and threw her out of the house because they were ashamed and furious. She’s now been estranged from her parents for ten years and they refuse to meet their granddaughter. People abused her and have said that she did not act responsibly. Living proof of women’s sexual autonomy is heavily punished, and laws in China around family are all based around nuclear family so if you are a single mother or had children out of wedlock, your children very well may not be access basic government benefits like education, healthcare, household registration, housing benefits, etc.

Thank you for sharing your story!! This is remarkably similar to how it stands in the states today as well. I was lucky enough that my maternal grandparents didn’t throw out my own mother (though she was abused and shamed by them for having me out of wedlock), but my paternal grandparents refused to meet me until I was nearly grown because they refused to acknowledge me as their grandchild since their son wasn’t married my mom. My mother was also denied a variety of benefits on the basis of ‘not encouraging single moms and their lifestyles’ or because the federal workers running these programs were so antagonistic that my mother opted out of signing up for them. Not to mention all the other social programs and communities you’re unofficially banned from because they’re constructed around the basis of nuclear families being the default.

Im sorry your cousin had to go through that, but thank you so much for sharing your story! I think it’s really important that we in the asoiaf fandom continue to highlight how this is an ongoing issue, because too many fans think it’s a social stigma that was left in the past and that’s absolutely not the case

[rjalker]

anyways whatever here's the review I left for the review someone else wrote for The Cloud Roads.

February 17, 2023 at 8:02 pm

Oh my gosh this essay is like a breath of fresh air. I loved reading The Books of the Raksura series, but it has soo many blatant problems I’ve never seen anyone except my literal twin discuss, finding this article was the highlight of my day.

I think this article is just a review for The Cloud Roads, rather than the whole series, but another thing I want to add on that I noticed continuing in The Murderbot Diaries is that Martha Wells does not plan ahead very well at all, with the tail ends of her series contradicting the first installment, and once you read the whole rest of the series and then reread The Cloud Roads, it becomes nonsensical and absurd.

(This is less of an issue with The Murderbot Diaries because they’re so short, but it’s still noticeable. We’re shown later that people on Preservation casually treat robots like people,,,but then why did they all just treat Murderbot like less than any other robot?

Even if they’re thinking of it as “just a robot” and “not a person with a human-like face”….the society they come from means they should have been treating it like a person anyways. They shouldnt’ need to see its human-cloned tissue face to think of it like a person. This is a pretty drastic contradiction to what we’re shown later, but it never gets brought up again and most people don’t even notice it, even though it’s a pretty ridiculously big plot hole once you think about it, considering how short the stories are!)

One thing I’ve never seen anyone else discuss is the transmisia–

(a different term for transphobia that’s not antagonistic towards people with genuine anxiety-induced phobias like agoraphobia, ecetera. The suffix “-misia” comes from the Latin word for hatred, which is also the prefix in “misogyny”)

–in the way Chime and River were treated by that narrative, as well as the inherently classism in the way River specifically was punished for “getting above his station”.

Chime and River are both very heavily trans-coded, not identifying with the genders and gender roles their society forces upon them, and both of them receive nothing but mistreatment and abuse for this fact.

We’re not supposed to think River’s a bad person because he went around abusing Arbora, supposedly the ones the Aeriat are meant to protect, we’re supposed to think he’s a bad person who deserves to be shunted to the bottom of the social ladder because he………..wants to be a consort? Meaning he’s basically transgender???? And this is why he’s punished and hated afterward by the whole colony, but not a single person had any problem with his behavior when he was going around beating the crap out of Arbora????

And then Chime, who’s literally magically forced to change sexes, who does not identify with the new sex and gender roles he’s been forced into, is treated like a whiny annoyance whenever he expresses discomfort with what’s happened or wants to find out if he can change back. Everyone, including Moon, just tells him he needs to stop complaining and get over it because his complaining is annoying everyone else.

I remember in one of the last two books of the series–and this ties in with the biological essentialism and gender essentialism rampant in this series—he’s not even allowed to do something as simple as help pitch a tent without literally being chased away by a snarling, “Real” Arbora.

Which A is just transmisia, he’s being excluded from activities he did before just because his physical sex no longer matches his gender identity, and also just drives home the problem between the Arbora and the Warriors that we’re just supposed to think is pefectly fine.

Warriors are constantly insulted and called useless and stupid because they don’t do anything to help out around the colony, but then literally they are not allowed to help. (And again, this is Martha Wells not planning things out properly. Why do the warriors even exist if they don’t actually protect the colony? 90% of the time it’s Moon, Stone, and Jade fighting, with the warriors not really actually helping in fights at all. Except of course for when, later in the series, Balm somehow manages to take down a Ruler all on her own with no problem despite the fact that we keep being told Fell are terrifying and deadly)

Anyways I’m getting off track.

The Arbora refuse to teach the warriors how to dress kills properly, then get mad when they don’t do it right. They call them lazy, then literally chase them away with LITERAL snarling when they try to help out. And Chime isn’t even a warrior, he’s a damn mentor, he didn’t ask to be magically changed into a warrior for no logical biological or storytelling reason!

Chime isn’t even trusted to visit other colonies libraries because of the stigma against “warriors”, and no one ever even aknowledges that he’s not a warrior. It’s biological essentialism and Martha Wells equating sex with gender and gender rolls, and we’re just supposed to be fine with it.

This is also a problem in The Murderbot Diaries that I hardly ever see anyone address – Martha Wells is still equating sex with gender, which is why literally every single robot character uses it/its pronouns and is genderless. Because she thinks that since they don’t have a sex, they can’t have a gender either.

All robots are assigned genderless upon construction, and this is just. How it is, apparently. Murderbot gets praised as being awesome trans representation, but it’s not even trans (unless Martha Wells retconns and changes its backstory), it’s literally a cis robot, whose gender is determined by its lack of sex, along with its sexuality of being aroace.

And I say this as someone who is aroace, and nonbinary, and uses it/its pronouns!

This would be fine if there were other robot characters who used pronouns other than it/its, who had orientations and genders that weren’t just “no”, and humans who were explcitly trans and nonbinary who get more than a few pages of “screentime” before being shoved out of the story forever, never to be mentioned again (Like Rami, the one human character who was explicitly nonbinary and used neopronouns, was!). It’s just a bunch of stereotypes and nothing else to makes it anything more!

This has lead to people who read these books to legitimately think that only fictional characters use it/its pronouns, so it’s okay for them to misgender Murderbot and me, the real person who uses it/its pronouns who’s trying to correct them.

Martha Wells definitely has a problem with bioessentialism, and with the rest of The Books of the Raksura, it becomes even more painfully obvious and racist. The fact that the Fell are portrayed as iredeemably evil….until the magical mixed-race kids, who have Good And Moral Raksuran Blood, teach them to not be evil….

Like, one of the well-respected and wise characters literally offers straight up eugenics as a solution to the problem of the Fell being so Inherently Evil, and we’re supposed to think it’s an awesome idea and nod along in excitement rather than be horrified. This same scene also confirms that the Raksura are practicing eugenics, strictly controlling who is allowed to have kids with who.

There is so much stuff I have to criticize about this series, this isn’t even the tip of the iceberg! And I loved reading them! Apparently being able to enjoy something for what it does right, and criticize it for what it does wrong, is an almost impossible feat, according to 90% of Martha Wells fans.

But anyways, thank you so much for writing this essay, this is everything I’ve been looking for and not finding since I read these books. Unfortunately the fandom on tumblr and the few other sites I’ve checked is absolutely terrible, people are just reducing the polayamory to a jealous love triangle, and whitewash the characters :| And The Murderbot Diaries fandom is even worse, oh my gods.

Please keep up the good work, and if you have read the rest of The Books of the Raksura, (It seems like this review is just for the first book, but I’m not sure) I look forward to any other essays you write about it! This is my first time visiting this site but I’m definitely going to check out the other stuff you’ve written!

[nimblermortal]

What what what! What!

So I'm reading the technical vocabulary, and

SLAVE

slaves had the right to personal compensation (like direct payments if they were assaulted), the right to keep a wife, the right to kill on behalf of the wife (!), the right to acquire wealth

the penalty for lying with a slave woman was the ordinary fine of three marks, c.f. Intercourse

INTERCOURSE

Unlawful intercourse and fathering a child are separate charges with different penalties. The woman has to have a man standing for her, of course, women don't exist under the law. In some cases the man in question has the right to kill the transgressor!

I would eat his heart in the marketplace *ahem*

If a successful suit was brought, the penalty for the man was full outlawry (!) and liability for personal compensation. But the woman also has penalties. Her legal administrator could claim six marks from her - that's twice as much as a main ring wergild!

The penalty for rape or attempted rape was also full outlawry!

"Other kinds of behaviour deemed offensive to a woman (and her family), including composition of love poetry, were also liable at law."

poets better watch out (and honestly this makes sense - this is not a literate society, if you compose a poem to a lady and keep it to yourself no one will ever find out, if poems are being spread then it's because you declaimed them in public and it's uh. a direct attack on her honor, probably viewed something like revenge porn)

anyway.

SLAVES

So, raping a slave woman incurs the same punishment as a single main ring wergild payment (vs raping a free woman, where you're exiled from the country forever)

Slaves could be traded as payment, but they could also have their freedom given or bought. The notional value of a slave was perhaps three marks - so, that's a good reference for the future. (A dead slave, reminder, main ring payment is 24 bits, whatever that is.) A female slave (bondwoman, unless I find out later that the definition of bondwoman is different) is worth half that.

...it is worth mentioning that the owner could kill the slave whenever he wanted, as long as it wasn't Lent or a major feast day. The church may have had something to say about it, though.

A slave was not fully free until he had been "led into the law" - don't know what that means! I hope it involves a turf arch!

FREEDMAN

"except in certain circumstances the penalty for adultery with his wife was lesser, not full, outlawry" fascinating

(note this also makes a hierarchy for sleeping with a dude's wife - free -> freed -> slave it goes full outlawry -> lesser outlawry (3 years) -> 3 marks)

"If a freedman were killed, the case lay with his son (who was counted free, not free); failing him, with his freedom-giver" oh, neat - so giving a slave freedom is, in some edge cases, equivalent to adopting them. You are still considered responsible for them!

however, the freedom-giver had some claim to his property on his death (and more so if he tries to, uh, hide that property from the law/prevent this)

but the freedom-giver is required to provide maintenance of the freedman, if he cannot support himself. (It's not clear what this means from the appendix alone, but I suspect it's basic food/water/shelter.) Remember that per Saga Thing, slavery died out in Iceland because the responsibility for getting slaves through the winter wasn't worth it!

Tempting to start spelling it freeDman, just to be clear.

[aquamarinescarlet]

We can’t have everything

Pairing: Professor!Wanda Maximoff x Student!Reader

Word count: ~8.8k

Warnings: high school AU (reader is 18 though), fluff, angst, small mention of religion, implied smut

Summary: Wanda Maximoff challenges your patience every week during philosophy class, now it’s your turn.

Author’s note: So I over-thought this story waaaaay too much, I considered not posting it several times, but I really liked it so here it is. Let me know what you think, and enjoy!

Taglist

Liberty consists in doing what one desires.

That’s what John Stuart Miller used to say. The english philosopher might’ve explained the main reason why humanity desires liberty so much, and why we can never have it.

Consider liberty as being a synonym to freedom. Everyone desires freedom, praises that it is the definition of living, freedom walks hand in hand with success, with happiness. In theory, that is a great line of thinking, and not necessarily wrong, just utopic.

No one is willing to deal with the consequences of total and complete freedom. After all, we’ve never experienced total and complete freedom before, not a single living soul. There are laws we must follow, laws that control our freedom, mould it to the best way of controlling us.

How would the world be with total freedom? No economic laws that define how money and basic exchange of products work, no juridical laws that punish those who risk other people’s safety, no social laws leveling the general understanding of human interaction, not even physics laws that rule the entirety of the universe. Do we know what a life without these would be like? Are we willing to figure it out?

“... Ms. Y/L/N?” You turned your attention to the professor, not feeling even slightly uncomfortable by the sudden attention.

“What was that, Ms. Maximoff?” She would’ve rolled her eyes if she could, but held herself back for the sake of professionalism.

“I was asking if you’d like to give us your opinion on the matter since you seem to be so deep in thought, certainly you have something interesting to say.”

“I wasn’t thinking about the topic of discussion, in fact, I’m not even aware of what that would be.”

Professor Maximoff was hands down your favourite professor to piss off, and that was simply because, different from the others, she was stubborn, she never cut you mid discussion, she’d let you take it till the end, no matter how mad or humiliated she got. It was fun.

You always had a bad reputation amongst the professors, being the most hated kind of student anyone could have, the one who always messes around, doesn’t pay attention and is always disrupting the class, but somehow does well in school and never gets an answer wrong no matter how little attention you were actually paying.

After you moved for a year to Brasil, where your parents are originally from, you were held back a grade, and since all your friends already graduated, and your new classmates are a big bore, all that was left was to pick on the professors, and you had a lot of fun doing it. Boarding school can always be full of pricks.

“Mr. Jansen was just pointing out that if we suppose there’s a God responsible for the creation of humanity, and we’re all made in his image, then man is born good and society corrupts us.” She explained.

Man is born good, interesting intake.

“And I assume Ms. González defends that man is born evil and all goodness comes from morals that are bestowed upon us by religion.” You pointed out.

Man is born evil, another interesting opinion.

“So you were paying attention,” there wasn’t even a hint of surprise in her tone.

“Just stating the obvious.” Those two always disagree on debates like this.

“Then what is your take on this?”

“My take is that no matter what take you have on this you’ll always come back to the same problem.”

“That would be…,” she urged you to continue.

“That if God was, in fact, responsible for creation, and he and evil coexist, then he’s either not omnipotent, or he’s not as good as it is believed.” Of course your words erupted a few murmurs from the most religious kids in class, which Ms. Maximoff was quick to shut down.

“Continue,” she said, with some curiosity, once silence settled again.

“If evil exists then either God isn’t powerful enough to get rid of it, hence him not being omnipotent, or he can do it he just doesn’t want to, making him an accomplice to the pain it causes to humanity, not so good on his part is it?”

“Evil is inflicted on us by Satan.” Otto Jansen countered.

“Ah, then God is not omnipotent since he can’t overpower Satan, see we go back to the same problem.”

“Alright Ms. Y/L/N, but in the christian religion it is viewed that the Earth is some sort of, middle plane, a test, of sorts, to decide what’ll happen to you in the afterlife. Doesn’t that cancel out your statement?” Discussing with your peers was fun, but it was a blast when Ms. Maximoff added her own opinion to it, and when it involves you, she always does.

“Quite on the contrary, you can even approach that in two different ways. If this is some kind of purgatory, so it can be decided if each individual person is good or bad, it leaves space for you to assume that man is born either evil or good, and if we’re all made in God’s image, then that leaves open the possibility that there’s evil in God himself.”

New grunts of disapproval, which only fueled your confidence.

“And the other approach?”

“Right,” you almost forgot, “why would God need a purgatory in the first place? Assuming heaven does exist, it is a perfect plane where there’s no evil. So if something like that can exist, why does he need a middle plane in which both good and evil coexist? Did he make man in his image, which contains evil somehow, and now he needs to figure out who can fight the evil and who succumbs to it? Or is he not powerful enough to make all men good?”

The room fell dead silent. Mrs. Maximoff was considering your words carefully, unable to hide the anger in her face. You had just completely destroyed the point of her debate by turning it all towards a problem with no clear solution.

A quick glance to the clock showed there were only a few seconds for the bell to go off, so you decided to fill that silence and close your line of thinking.

“What I’m saying is, when looking at this from the perspective of religion, the real question is not whether man was born good or evil, it’s if God is not omnipotent or not all that good.”

Perfect timing. You started to pack your things as everyone started to make their way out of the class. Soon enough only you and Ms. Maximoff were left.

“You could pay more attention to class y’know.”

“Why? Weren’t my remarks good enough for you?” You retorted.

“You didn’t answer the question.” She sent you a subtle glance.

“I thought we were supposed to defend our point of view,” you said while walking towards the exit, “I think that’s exactly what I did.” You didn’t leave her time to respond, only hearing a huff coming from the classroom.

As much as you hated school, you also hated missing classes, it gave them ammunition to punish you. So you ran, your bedroom being on the other side of the building, hoping you’d make it on time.

You didn’t. Although that was not surprising, you had, in fact, woken up almost 20 minutes after class had already started, only a miracle or a wormhole that took you back in time could’ve saved you.

Standing by the closed door to philosophy class, you had an idea. Not a good one, but it’d have to do for now.

The room where Ms. Maximoff taught, just like all the others, had windows. On the other hand, it was on the second floor, thankfully your tree climbing skills were up to date. Your backpack was light, making the whole process much easier, what made it difficult was when Otto looked out the window, almost catching you.

Expertly you made your way to the branch which gave you access to the very back of the class. If it was full you’d be able to sneak in without calling attention to yourself. And you were successful, for the first few steps, being careful to not make any noise, slightly crouching down… it was all useless when Ms. Maximoff finished her speech.

“Ah, Ms. Y/L/N, how nice of you to join us.” You stopped dead on your track, shutting your eyes closed at your failed attempt. “Do you have any morals?”

That was a weird question, nonetheless you straightened yourself, turning towards the woman, acting like being caught hadn’t affected you at all.

“Oh, I see we’re back to the same topic of last week.”

“How so?”

“Well, discussing morality takes us back to the very point of ‘are humans born good and further corrupted, or are they born evil?” All the attention turned to you.

“Very good, you still didn’t answer my question though, do you have any morals?”

“Don’t we all?”

“I don’t know, you sneak into the classroom late knowing that it’s against the rules.” Fair point, although uncalled for.

“You’re a constructivist then.” You pointed out, matter of factly.

“What leads you to believe that?” She questioned curiously

“You don’t believe I have morals, or at least you consider the possibility, which leads me to assume that you don’t believe we are born with morals, they are given to us.”

“And what do you believe?”

You thought about it for a few seconds, her intense gaze making you nervous and somewhat confident.

“I believe all points of view are problematic.”

“Enlighten us.” She urged you on.

“Constructivists believe that morality is a result of evolution, basically we have morals due to our commitments towards society, but if that’s so, how did morality come to exist in the first place? Society wasn’t there since the beginning of time, it was created, so this line of thinking proposes that morality was created too, but how? And by whom?”

“So you’re saying that humans would have to be born with morals?” Robyn Byrne, another one of your classmates, pitched.

“Not quite, that’s what the realists believe, but that has some problems of its own. Think about it, if humans are born with morals, how did they acquire them? And what are they? Are they different from person to person? Because from what we can observe, my morals are clearly different from Ms. Maximoff’s,” you mocked, earning a glare from the professor.

You paused, pleased with the silence that took over the room, no one knew how to counter your argument. Yet again you had put an end to one of Ms. Maximoff’s debates.

“Thank you for your input Ms. Y/L/N. You can go now.” She gestured towards the door and you gave her a confused look.

“Excuse me?”

“You were late for my class, and according to my morals, it is against the rules, so you’ll have to leave.” She explained with the most annoying victorious grin you had ever seen.

You grunted in defeat and walked out of the room. Thankfully this was her last class before Winter break, and you couldn’t wait to get a break from this place and spend your quick vacation sunbathing on the beautiful beaches in Rio de Janeiro.

“It’s fine mom, I’m fine.” You tried to reassure her through the phone.

“I know you’re not, you don’t have to lie to me.”

“Of course I’m not fine, I’ll miss the period of application to college in Brazil. Now I’ll have to wait a whole year, even more if I don’t get in,” you let out all your frustrations.

“I’m sorry Y/N/N,” the pity in her voice somehow made it all worse.

Going to the same college your father attended had been your dream since you were very young. That dream was crushed momentarily when your mother was transferred and you had to move countries, but you devised a plan to make it work. The universe seemed to be playing against you, and now you had to watch it all crumble down again.

“There’s no point in crying about it,” you shrugged, not wanting to spend anymore time on the subject, “there’s a storm coming, my flight was cancelled…” you trailed off.

Not only was it killing you to miss your chance in Brazil, but it was unnerving that you were stuck in school for christmas and new year. The worst part being that everyone had already left, everyone but half a dozen professors, and you. Safe to say you weren’t looking forward to being stuck with them for two whole weeks. But as you said, there was no point in reminiscing on it since there was nothing you could do.

“I’m so sorry,” she sounded genuine, even over the phone, “we’ll make it up to you.” You chuckled softly at how sweet she was being.

“Don’t worry mom, it’s not your fault, plus I don’t think there’s any way to ‘make up’ for this,” your tone exuded confidence, “I’ll be fine, I can even go to college here,” you tried to sound excited but your mother’s silence proved you weren’t fooling anyone. “Worst comes to worse and I’ll just play pranks on the professors that stayed behind too,” you joked trying to lighten the mood.

“Behave,” she warned, although you could hear slight giggling on the other side of the line.

“Bye, mom.”

“Bye, I’ll try to call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Sure.” You hung up and walked back to your room, passing through the empty hallways.

Once there, you let your body fall back on your bed in frustration. You wanted to scream, you wanted to cry, you wanted to break every piece of furniture inside your room. It was going to be two very long weeks. A knock on the door didn’t give you too much time to think about that.

“Hey dear,” the old woman greeted, opening the door.

“Hey, Mrs. Chren.” Your math professor.

“I just came here to warn you that me, Mrs. Song,” your music professor, ironic isn’t it?, “Mr. Avery, Mr. Griffin and Mrs. Breman are going to town for a few hours, gotta sort out some things before the storm hits, so you’ll be alone for a couple of hours,” you stared at her blankly, “or you could come if you like-”

“Oh, no, Mrs. Chren,” you spilled, already enjoying the idea of being by yourself, “that’s alright, I can survive for a few hours,” you both laughed lightly.

“Alright, here’s my phone number,” she set a piece of paper on the desk, “call me if you need anything, and keep an eye on the telephone down the hall, I’ll call you there if we have any delays.”

That phone was the only way to communicate with the rest of the world, the school being too isolated for your cell phone to get any signal, and no wifi was available since they wanted the students to do their research in books rather than the internet. So, basically, you were completely out of reach but for that one old piece of technology, which was shared amongst everyone.

“Okay, have fun,” you pitched and she thanked you before leaving.

Half an hour later and you finally had the whole place to yourself, so you decided to do all the things you couldn’t do when someone was watching. It was better to have some fun than to spend the rest of those weeks moping around.

You blasted music on your portable speaker while walking around the building. First things first, look into other people’s rooms, you’re nosy and curious, what else could you do?

And it was the best idea. Some of the rooms were locked for these two weeks, but others weren’t and you made some interesting discoveries. Like the fact that the quietest boy in your grade has a huge bag of condoms hidden in his drawer. Or that the girl that claims to hate sports has a football magazine under her bed.

Of course there was also the classic booze and cigarettes hidden away, which wasn’t a surprise, and a hell lot of dirty socks. What is it with these people and not doing their laundry?

The sound of the phone going off in the distance startled you, but you quickly recovered, turning off the music and rushing to answer it.

“Hello.”

“Hi, Y/L/N, it’s Mrs. Song.” She sounded nervous.

“Everything okay?”

“Not quite, it seems like the storm is coming earlier than expected, they closed all the roads which means we’re stuck here in town until further notice.” You took a second to let the information sink in, but she took your silence as incentive to continue. “Anyways, we’re going to stay at a hotel here in the area, and will try to get back as soon as possible. But I’m afraid it’ll be a few days until then.”

“Oh.” Was the only thing you could think of.

“Y/L/N?”

“Yeah, sorry, that’s fine, I have food and a central heating system, so I’ll be fine, are you guys going to be okay though?” You really didn’t know what else to say.

“Of course, don’t worry about us, just be safe and don’t go outside, we’ll keep in contact if you need anything, okay?”

“That’s great, good luck there Mrs. Song.”

“You too dear.”

You couldn’t decide if that was good news or bad news. On one hand you could do whatever you wanted and not have your professors calling you out on everything all the time, plus there would be no dealing with awkward meals just the six of you. On the other hand you would be alone in this huge building for days with mostly nothing to do, it could get lonely.

“Well, gotta make the best of the situation,” you said to no one in particular.

With that idea in mind, you ran back to your room taking out something you’ve had hidden in your room for a few months. A skateboard. Strategically placed on the back of your dressing drawer. How you sneaked that in without anyone noticing was a question you didn’t have the answer for.

You and your friends would always find a way to take your skateboards and rollerblades into town, they did have a great lane there. This was before they graduated, now you had expected to do it again, but never found anyone who’d be willing to risk getting caught and slowly you lost interest in doing it all on your own.

But being all alone was the perfect opportunity to take it for a ride. You couldn’t go outside but the long empty hallways were a perfect place to do just that.

So you did, unbothered by the storm going at full force outside. Unnaturally loud music blasting on your speakers while you sang along, trying different tricks or just trying to go the fastest possible on the smooth wooden floor of the old building.

The next chain of events happened way too fast for you to register. You were speeding down the hallway on your skateboard, which was darker than usual for that time of day, a bird hit a window right as you passed by it, a loud bang echoed through the place and a dark figure suddenly appeared in front of you.

Losing completely your balance, you tripped and, due to the speed, was thrown a few feet across the floor.

“Are you okay?” You were barely able to hear the voice approaching you since music was still playing on the speaker.

You were quick to turn it off, turning to the person in question.

“Jesus fucking christ, are you trying to kill me?” You said, trying to calm your rapidly beating heart as Ms. Maximoff knelt beside you.

“You did set yourself up to get hurt.” She stated referring to all the rules you were breaking.

She helped you sit up, a stinging pain shooting through your shoulder.

“Well, I wasn’t really expecting anyone,” just then your mind caught up with the fact that she was here, when she wasn’t supposed to be, “shouldn’t you be, like, miles away from here?”

“Ouch,” she feigned offense, but you didn’t care, between spending days in there alone or having to be stuck with her you’d rather be alone, “my flight got cancelled, I was lucky to get here now, or I’d die frozen in that storm.”

“I thought the roads were closed.”

“I was already halfway through when I heard on the radio they were closing everything, I thought it would be better to keep going than to turn around.”

“You should’ve turned around,” you weren’t sure if you said that for her good or your own.

“Why do you say that?” She tried to hide the disappointment in her voice, but you caught it.

“Don’t get me wrong, but the other professors are all stuck in town until they reopen the roads, and there’s nothing much to do here.” You tried to get up, but the pain on your shoulder didn’t let you.

“You’re here, we can keep each other company.”

She helped you up, and you begrudgingly accepted.

“And what are we going to do? Debate the morals and ethics of all the rules I’m breaking?” Your tone laced with sarcasm.

“I’m also a human being y’know, not only a philosophy teacher.”

“Oh, really? And here I was thinking you were a robot sent by the government to alienate us students.” That logic didn’t even make sense, but your mind wasn’t able to think straight with the pain and the shock of the whole situation.

She stood in silence, almost analyzing you. Being under her gaze like that made you uncomfortable, and yet you couldn’t move, your legs not wanting to obey your brain. So you stared back at her instead.

The sound of the telephone going off again broke the contest.

“Yeah?”

“Hey Ms. Y/L/N, it’s Mrs. Chren, just calling to see how you’re doing.” The voice answered on the other side of the line.

Your eyes fell on your professor, and since you weren’t really in the mood to talk you decided to pass this on to the woman who had disrupted your peace.

“Great! Actually, Ms. Maximoff is here.”

“She is?”

“Got here a few minutes ago.”

“Oh my, let me talk to her then.”

You passed the phone to her, and turned around looking for your skateboard and speaker. Thankfully the fall hadn’t caused any damage to either of the items, now your shoulder would be a completely different story, hopefully it would be better after a good night of sleep.

Since you weren’t paying any attention to the call, you didn’t see Ms. Maximoff had approached you and almost jumped at the sound of her voice.

“She said the storm might create some energy problems, so we’ll probably lose communication with them.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t.”

With that you ran off to your room, locking yourself in there. You didn’t see her for the rest of that day.

You also managed to avoid her for the next day and half of the one after that. But that couldn’t go on for much longer.

“What are you doing?” You asked, walking into the kitchen and seeing Ms. Maximoff cooking something on the stove. Your nostrils being immediately invaded by a delicious smell.

“Lunch. It’s almost ready.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to do this.” Her being nice really wasn’t helping your hate for her.

“I don’t mind, I like to cook,” she turned towards you, “I know you’re not very fond of me, but I won’t let you starve because of that.”

You didn’t know how to respond. It was a nice gesture and a very out-of-the-blue confession. Maybe not a confession, but a statement. Sensing your silence she focused back on the pan still cooking.

“Why though?” The question startled you.

“What?”

“Why don’t you like me? I would risk it’s because I kicked you out of class last week, but I feel like it’s been going on for longer than that.” Her voice was firm, sure of her words, although her body language said the complete opposite. How she kept shifting her weight from one leg to the other, playing with her hair, you couldn’t see her face but you could sense she was dreading the answer.

“Don’t you hate me?” She stopped completely, considering your question before turning back towards you.

“Why would I?”

“Everyone does, at least all the professors do,” that fact didn’t affect you, you had given them reason to hate you.

“Well, I don’t,” she kept her eyes locked on yours, “you didn’t answer my question.”

“Why do you care?” You re-assumed your classic nonchalant demeanor, taking a seat on the kitchen table.

She didn’t say anything as she served you both a plate of pasta with tomato sauce. Slowly you brought a forkful of it to your mouth, mindlessly moaning at the taste of it.

“Holy shit this is amazing,” she smiled shyly, looking down at her own plate and you quickly felt self conscious about your actions.

Could she blame you? How did she turn such a simple dish into something so good?

“Thanks,” she replied, still avoiding your eyes.

Lunch went on silently after that, the sounds of metal clinking on glass was nearly deafening. In all fairness you were afraid of saying anything else, which was unusual.

“You still didn’t answer my question,” she blurted out suddenly, causing you to look at her.

“What question?” She let out a dry laugh, almost like she was mocking you, which only made you despise her a little bit more.

“You know which question.”

“Because you can be quite a prick sometimes.”

“Excuse me?” She looked at you with disbelief.

“Like that time you kicked me out-”

“Oh no, you were late, those are the rules.” She interrupted you.

“See, you’re always too caught up on the rules, live a little.”

She just shook her head in amusement, she was enjoying this, but so were you. She gave you the green card to give your opinion, and you damn well were taking it.

“What else?”

“There was that time you took away my necklace for no reason.”

“You weren’t paying attention in class.”

“I’m never paying attention in class,” you argued.

“And yet you always have an answer at the tip of your tongue don’t you?”

“It’s a talent.” You responded full of pride, earning an eye roll from her. “You also love to pick on me.”

“How so?” She played dumb, she knew what you were talking about, the mischief in her eyes, the way she leaned on her elbows with interest, it all gave her away, you could read her like an open book.

Nonetheless, you responded.

“You always call on me when I’m clearly not interested in participating in the debate.” You challenged, yet her expression didn’t change one bit. You were aware of how insulting this was to her classes, implying they were boring, but you didn’t care.

“And, somehow, your opinions are always on point,” she softened her expression catching you by surprise, “that’s what I like about you, you challenge me, make me think outside the box, that’s why I always call on you.”

The confession was unexpected, and you were completely speechless. It would’ve never crossed your mind to consider those discussions like that. She was enjoying your shock, your confusion, and since you didn’t say anything she took the liberty to clear both your empty plates, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

It took you a good few minutes to come back to reality and head to your own bedroom.

Thinking back to the past few months, some details started to come to light and make you question everything. You hated Ms. Maximoff, just like all the other professors, but you did stay around for longer than necessary after class was done. You never paid attention to the debates she proposed, but whenever she called on you, you didn’t give half answers, you gave full, well developed ones.

You kept thinking if your hate for her was just a consequence of your general hate to this place, to the rules they impose on you. Was the fact that all of the other professors weren’t particularly fond of you so ingrained in your mind that you projected that into everyone?

Guilt flooded you. Guilt from being so rude to her. Guilt from insulting her. Guilt from being a complete asshole during her classes, while all this time she enjoyed your presence there.

Throughout the rest of the afternoon you tried to brush the feeling off by occupying your mind. Calling your parents while the power wasn’t cut off yet. Organizing your room. Raiding other people’s rooms.

None of that helped, so that’s how you ended up with a stolen bottle of vodka in hand trying to get the old TV in the basement to work. The fact that it’s the 21st century and this damn school only has one very old television hidden away is shocking to you. On the bright side you didn’t cross paths with Ms. Maximoff again.

Which is different to say that she hasn’t been crossing your mind every few minutes.

After three rough sips of the alcohol, a few frustrated attempts at getting the damn image to stabilize and many thoughts about your philosophy professor, you found yourself stumbling to the professors’ wing of the building.

It was a completely new and unexplored area for you. The place was forbidden for students during the school year. Thankfully this was a situation to which that rule didn’t apply.

Stumbling on your feet, finding her room wasn’t a challenge, the light seeping through the cracks, contrasting with the darkness of night, gave it away. With some hesitation, you finally knocked on the door.

“Y/N?” There was some surprise in her voice, but you interpreted that as an invitation to come in, so you opened the old wooden door being faced with her soft figure sitting in bed, a book in lap. “Is something wrong?”

“Uhm… no, not really,” you weren’t quite sure why you even came here in the first place.

“Then what is it?”

“Do you wanna watch a movie?” You blurted out, surprising the both of you.

“A movie?” She quirked a brow at you and you couldn’t help this shyness that took over you all of a sudden.

“Yeah,” you practically whispered, “I’ve got booze.” You lifted the bottle still on your hands, trying to lighten the mood.

“Where did you get that?” She said, her body tensing slightly.

“Does it matter?”

“It’s against the rules.” You rolled your eyes at that, gaining your confidence back.

“Rules and more rules… throw the rules away, there’s no one here to catch us, live a little.” You challenged, her expression becoming something unreadable. “So, movie?”

She put her book aside, her face something akin of enjoyment and displeasure, if that was even possible. A smirk grew on your face as she walked past you, taking the bottle with her. Once you realized she might not be giving in to your persuasion but could actually be confiscating the bottle you ran after her.

“Hey, what are you doing with that?” You tripped, almost falling face first into the floor, earning a chuckle from the woman.

“Catching up to you,” she said, taking a sip of the alcohol, the ease with which she did it erupted unwanted thoughts into your mind, and you were quick to brush them off.

She kept going, leaving you behind, still lost in a daze.

“How do you know where to go?” You shouted again, this time being more careful when running towards her.

“There’s only one TV in this whole place,” you gave her a surprised look, “what? You’re not the only one who likes to snoop around.”

This was a side to her you never expected to see, but certainly weren’t complaining. You walked side by side in silence, although it wasn’t an uncomfortable one.

Reaching the basement, you were quick to throw yourself on the old couch, and she just stood on the doorway.

“I thought we were going to watch a movie,” she referred to the flickering image on the screen.

“Yeah, well, I couldn’t get it to work,” you admitted, suddenly questioning why you even invited her to do something you couldn’t do.

“Did you just call me here to fix it?” She asked playfully, making her way to the apparatus.

“Maybe,” you played along, watching as she tried to fix the image, moving some of the wires behind it.

Eventually you got to the conclusion that she did all that handyman work for theatrics, since a firm hit of her hand on the side of the device caused the image to stabilize. Was she trying to impress you or was it just damn luck? No matter what it was, the whole scenario erupted even more unwanted thoughts.

“It’s not perfect, but now it’s watchable,” she mocked.

“Oh, thank you, great Ms. Maximoff, what would I do without you?” You added dramatically as she flopped herself by your side.

“No, don’t call me that, it makes me feel old.”

“You are old.” It was just a playful comment, and thankfully she didn’t take it personally.

“I’m twenty four.”

“See, old,” you earned a light slap on the forearm.

“At least I’m a professor, you’re almost nineteen and still haven't graduated high school.”

You scoffed indignantly, shoving her slightly.

“Hey, that’s not my fault, the stupid school wouldn’t let me transfer my grades from Brazil,” you countered.

“Oh, now it’s the school's fault.”

“Of course, my grades there were excellent,” they weren’t, “all I needed was for them to validate them,” also a lie. In truth, your grades in Brazil sucked, the curriculum was completely different and you hadn’t bothered enough to figure out what was going on. You would’ve been held back a grade either way, but changing schools gave you the chance to blame someone else, and you always took it.

“I don’t believe you,” annoyingly enough, not everyone bought into the lie.

“What do you believe then?” The movie played in the background, completely forgotten.

“That you weren’t smart enough to keep up,” her green orbs stared directly into yours, stirring in you this feeling of anger or desire, something you couldn’t quite place.

“Ah, você fica aí se achando toda espertinha mas- (ah, you think you’re so smart but-),” you were interrupted by her lips crashing into yours in an almost desperate, hungry kiss.

It didn’t take long for you to respond, as if you expected her to kiss, although you couldn’t quite understand how. Your hands moved up her sides, tangling themselves on her hair, as hers dropped to your waist, pulling you to cradle her lap.

The kiss wasn’t sweet and delicate, but needy and nearly aggressive. You pushed her impossibly close, feeling her hands doing the same. You craved her, you needed her, like you’ve been severely dehydrated and she was the last cup of water in the world.

Your body responded to her, every touch, every sound. She laid you on your back, hovering over your form, movements calculated to match yours. Her lips touching your skin, exploring every piece of flesh she could find left you burning with desire.

It wasn’t a battle, it was a dance. And you danced together, making each other see stars, reaching heaven and hell in minutes. Everything about her drew you in, the taste of her tongue sliding with yours, the heat her body radiated, the patterns she drew with the tip of her fingers and the places her mouth took you.

Why is it that we crave freedom so much, and yet, when we find ourselves face to face with it, we turn away, pretend it’s not there?

You woke up to silence. Complete silence. Wanda’s naked body laying underneath yours on the couch.

The events from the night brought a smile to your face, which didn’t last long when you lifted yourself up and was hit with a massive headache, the exercise also making your bruised shoulder slightly sore. As quietly as possible, you looked for your clothes scattered across the floor, leaving the woman to sleep for a little while longer.

The hallways to your room were unusually dark considering it was no longer night, but you didn’t think too much about it. Changing into clean clothes, you decided to make some food since you didn’t have any medicine.

It was no surprise that the kitchen was, also, unusually dark, and you were slightly thankful, the light wouldn’t make the pain in your head any easier to deal with. Didn’t take long for you to figure out why.

Opening the fridge in search of some eggs you were surprised the lights didn’t go on immediately. Investigating further, you flickered the lightswitch multiple times and nothing happened. Great, you were out of power.

That explained why the TV had turned off on it’s own. At least the stove still worked, you’d just have to be quick to finish the refrigerated food so it wouldn’t spoil. You frustratingly tried to find a pan to cook those eggs, still kinda shook from the headache.

“Hey,” Wanda’s voice called your attention from the doorway.

“We’re out of power,” you simply responded, crouched down on the floor, searching the bottom cabinet.

“We need to talk,” she ignored your previous statement, and, to be honest, you didn’t pay too much attention to hers.

You stood up with the pan in hands, a breathy yes leaving your mouth in celebration, only to find her standing a few steps from you.

“Oh, umm, what do you want to talk about?” You knew the answer, you just hoped you were wrong about it.

“Last night.” And you were right.

“Okay.”

“It was wrong.” She started sternly, you expected it, but it doesn't mean it didn’t hurt. “We shouldn’t have drank. I shouldn’t have kissed you. You shouldn’t have kissed me back.” With every punch to your gut she also took a step closer. “I shouldn’t have done it. Shouldn’t have let it get too far.”

Her body was now mere inches from yours and you fought the urge to reach out for her.

“But you did,” you breathed out, “and so did I.”

“You are my student.”

“Only for six more months.”

“Still…,”

The closeness didn’t let you think straight, her green orbs bore into yours with a glint you couldn’t decipher. You felt suddenly better, the headache no longer mattered, your shoulder wasn’t a bother. All you could concentrate on was her breath so close to your face.

“I don’t care.” You held your breath in expectation.

“Good, neither do I.”

She connected your lips on a kiss. Soft, passionate, different than the one from last night, but just as good. She lifted you up on the kitchen counter and you wrapped yours legs around her, not wanting the moment to end.

Safe to say that breakfast was delayed.

The next two days were filled with just about that, the lack of power didn’t leave that many options to pass time. Although you weren’t complaining, there was no way of knowing for how long this thing between you and Wanda could go on, and you would make the best out of every second of it.

“I think I owe you an apology,” you were sitting by one of the windows, your back leaning on her chest, a blanket draped over both of your laps.. The sky was clear for the first time since the storm, giving the perfect view of the night.

“You do?”

“Yes, I projected all my… uhm… negative feelings for- for everything, I guess, on you, and that’s not fair. So, I’m sorry.” A weight was lifted from your chest as you relaxed in her embrace.

“Thanks, but I don’t mind, it’s all in the past... It’s in the past right?” You chuckled softly.

“Depends on your concept of ‘past’.” She fell silent, both of you enjoying the clear night sky. “You see, light takes time to travel through space, and since the stars are millions of light years away from us, that means that the light we see from them right now was emitted a long time ago. We’re seeing how they were years ago, some of them might not even exist anymore.”

“That screws with our whole concept of time. Past, present and future.”

“O passado é história, o futuro é mistério, o agora é uma dádiva e por isso se chama presente. (The past is history, the future is a mystery, today is a gift, that’s why we call it the present.)” You mindlessly muttered, feeling Wanda’s hands going underneath your shirt.

“It’s so hot when you talk to me in portuguese.” Her voice was husky against your ears, sending shivers up and down your spine.

“Stop being so horny, that was from a children’s movie.” You managed to get out, turning around to face her.

“Still… it was hot,” her breath against your skin was making you crazy, her hands caressing your bare skin underneath your garments making you dizzy.

“Isso porque você ainda não viu as coisas que eu posso fazer com você(That’s because you haven’t seen all the things I can do to you),” you teased and her hands squeezed your hips, pulling you closer.

The feeling of her lips on yours wasn’t new, but still knocked your breath away everytime. Or maybe this time it was the sound of someone clearing their throat that caused that reaction.

“Mrs. Chren,” you quickly pulled away from Wanda, your heart rate going a thousand miles a minute.

“I tried to call, but I see the power hasn’t been restored yet.” Her expression was stern, serious, not what you expected.

Wanda was frozen in fear, eyes wide and mouth agape. She had put everything to lose because of this, her job, her reputation. It was like watching her wait for all the things she built for herself to crumble. This broke your heart.

“Mrs Chren, I- ” you started but the words died on your throat, not sure what to say.

“I won’t say anything,” she started and you felt your entire body relaxing, “but this stops now. We’re all in the kitchen by the way.”

She didn’t say anything else. The woman just came in to scare the fucking shit out of you, and then walked away like nothing had happened.

Wanda was still deeply lost in her turmoil of thoughts.

“Hey,” you took her hands in yours, feeling them still trembling, “it’s okay.”

“It’s okay,” she repeated in an attempt to convince herself it was true. It seemed to work when her eyes met yours, no longer filled with fear, but with hurt. “What about us?”

“It’s just for six months,” you reassured her, although you still felt like you’ve just taken a punch to the gut.

You brushed the initial shock away, Wanda did the same, as you both got up and made your way to the kitchen.

“There you are, how was spending a whole week on your own?” Mr Griffin asked as soon as you stepped into his line of view.

“It was great,” you answered, “I assume the roads are finally clear?”

“Yes, it took a while but they are,” Mrs Song complemented. “Well, I’m exhausted, I’m happy you’re both okay,” she pitched to you and Wanda before leaving to her room. Soon after, all the other professors did the same, leaving you and Wanda alone again.

“What now?” You asked, she was the one who had to make that decision.

“We stop?” She let out a dry chuckle. “We sneak around?”

“I like that.” You approached her, pecking her lips.

It wasn’t a permanent solution. It was most likely the worst solution you’d come up with, but if she wanted this, then you wouldn’t deny it.

Nonetheless, as you laid on your own bed, in your own room, alone, you couldn’t help but think if this was really a good idea. If it was worth the risk of sneaking around, the risk of potentially getting caught.

You didn’t dwell too much on the meanings of that, you just let yourself enjoy it, enjoy her.

The whole secret thing wasn’t as fun as you’d expected, but it was quite an adrenaline rush. Every little moment had much more value considering all the trouble you’d go to get them.

With a school full of students and teachers, sleeping in each others’ rooms was impossible, so you stuck to… other locations. The supplies closet at night, her classroom at the end of the day. You’d hide in the forest, that surrounded the building, during the weekends and try to have lunch together in town every now and then.

As the months passed, certain thoughts started to invade your mind, thoughts you’ve been trying to ignore ever since your first night with Wanda. What would happen when the semester did, in fact, end?

You would no longer be a student, but that also meant you’d no longer see Wanda every day. You’d go to college, who knows where, and Wanda would stay there, living in this old school, at least an hour away from anything, with no means of communication other than that telephone she’d have to share with hundreds of students and teachers.

“Hey, I’m so glad you called, we have good news!” Your mother spoke excitedly through the phone. You had been calling them every two weeks, mainly discussing what you would do after the semester was done.

“That’s great, I’ve been needing some of those.”

“Is school getting to you?” You hadn’t told them about Wanda, they knew she was your professor, and it would’ve just been weird.

“Yeah, the usual, so what’s the news?” You shrugged it off, trying to cheer yourself up.

“Right, so, I know you missed the vestibulares back in Brazil, but your father made some calls and the board has seen your grades and they agreed to give you a spot starting in August!” She exclaimed, letting out a little squeal at the end.

It was like the universe was finally starting to work to your advantage. For the past six months you’ve been trying to ignore the fact that you would no longer have the chance to go to the college you’ve always wanted to, Wanda helped a lot by occupying your mind with other things, but now the it was right there, in front of, you just had to take it.

You matched your mom's excitement, talking details of flights, living situation and all. It wasn’t until you hung up what this meant for you and Wanda.

Being only hours apart was already problematic, but studying in a different country, that’s a whole new kind of problem. Different time zones, different schedules, completely different lives. Nonetheless it was your dream, there wasn’t a decision to be made, only a truth to be told.

Wanda didn’t make it easy though. She was testing you every single day, driving you crazy and there was nothing you could do about it. It hadn’t hit her yet what was waiting at the end of the semester, and you didn’t have the heart to tell her.

So you kept that up, for the whole semester you kept that realization hidden from her, never building up the courage to have this conversation. You held off for so long, until you couldn’t anymore.

Everyone had just stepped out of philosophy class, leaving you and the woman alone.

“You know,” she started to walk towards you with hunger in her eyes, “you’ve been awfully quiet during my classes.” You were dazed by the wholeness of her, almost giving in and ignoring those thoughts you didn’t want to say out loud.

“Também, com as roupas que você veste, fica difícil concentrar em qualquer outra coisa. (With the clothes you’re wearing, it’s kinda hard to concentrate on anything else.)” You relished on the effect the words had on her, how her eyes turned a shade darker, her eyes fell immediately to your lips at the sound of them.

It took everything in you to stop her when she gave an indication of connecting both your lips, realizing that the longer you waited the more it was gonna hurt.

“Wan…”

“Oh, c’mon, you’re graduating in two weeks, are you really gonna stop because of the rules,” she mocked, “what did you tell me that one time? Live a little?” You weren’t falling for her teasing and challenges.

“It’s not about the rules…,” she gave you a look of confusion, “I’m going to college, in Brazil, and you’re staying here, we’ll be-” the words pained to come out, “it’s… a whole different continent, how are we going to make this work if we’re miles away from each other all the time?” Her demeanor changed, the weight of the future falling onto her. “How are we going to be together if I won’t even be able to reach you for months at a time?”

There was an internal battle taking over her. It was the first time you had uttered those words to her, maybe even the first time that problem had ever crossed her mind, she needed time to think it over.

In respect of that, you picked your back and started making your way to the door. It hurt, but that was on you. You fought back tears and tried to ignore the ever growing pain on your chest. There was no way this was going to end well, and you knew from the moment you started it.

You were stopped by a hand wrapping itself around your wrist, you turned to meet those beautiful green eyes of hers.

“I don’t give a shit, we’ll make it work,” with that she attacked your lips, and you didn’t stop her.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” was announced, and you walked up on stage to take your diploma. Your blue cap'n gown flowing behind you.

Your parents were in the middle of the audience, taking pictures like crazy, and you smiled at them, happy they could be there to share this moment. Wanda was sitting on the first row with the other professors, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes drift towards her.

As you walked back to your place you caught her discreetly leaving the auditorium. You quickly followed behind, leaving the mess of sounds and entering the peaceful and silent outdoors

“Hey,” you called after her, but stopped dead in your tracks when she turned around, trying so hard to contain her tears.

And you weren’t far behind, tears of your own pooling on your eyelids. This was the moment you’ve been dreading for the past two weeks. This made it all real. You were officially out of high school, you weren’t going to see her everyday anymore, you’d be miles away.

“We can’t make this work, can we?” She said exasperated and you let out a deep sight.

“Wan…”

She didn’t let you say anything else, engulfing you in a passionate kiss. The taste of salt on your lips was obvious, you just weren’t sure if it was because of your tears or hers.

Against your will, you parted for air, resting your foreheads together. Neither of you wanting to let go of the other.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, not sure what you were apologizing for.

“It’s not your fault.” She reassured.

Still your heart ached. Your chest felt heavy, like a whole piano had been resting on top of it. This was the end.

“For what it is worth,” you opened your eyes only to be met by her green ones, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You took a moment to take one last look at her. The last time you’d see her. Her beautiful green eyes, her plump lips, her soft brown hair. You took in everything. How her eyes were filled with pain and adoration, how her lips formed a smile, one that no longer held hope, how her hands kept you close, how her body comforted yours perfectly.

“I do hope you and I, somehow, end up happy together.” You gave her one last kiss. “Goodbye Wanda.” You let go. Tears streamed down your face as you walked back inside, not looking back.

Perhaps that’s why humans fear liberty so much, we are scared of the pain our own decisions can cause.

[n1kolaiz]

The Six Realms

Okay, so I was pretty close to giving up on writing analyses but I'm back LMFAO plus I see we're close to 100 followers and I just want to thank you guys for being so very supportive <3

Alright, I'm not sure if anyone's ever written about this, but if an analysis like this exists, please do let me know because I'm kind of curious as to what other people think about this, too!

Remember that time Fukuchi spoke about bringing "about the five signs of an angel's death"?

I read a little bit more about it, and as a minor content warning: this analysis will focus on a few religious aspects (Buddhism + Hinduism). So if I get any of the facts wrong, firstly: I do not mean any disrespect to either religion, and secondly: please do correct me if I interpret anything in the wrong way.

Spoilers for BSD chapter 90 onwards + BEAST!AU under the cut!

So I'll start by talking about the Decay of Angels. As we all know, the members include Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Nikolai Gogol, Sigma, and Bram Stoker, and their leader, Fukuchi Ochi. After Fyodor's arrest, the Decay of Angels came into light with Nikolai murdering four government officials in a week. These murders symbolise the Buddhist cycle of existence, or otherwise known as samsara: the cycle of life, death, and rebirth.

"We are the Decay of Angels—hiding here as terrorists, a 'murder association', five people who will announce the demise of the celestial world."

Nikolai Gogol, chapter 57

Samsara is described to be a concept beyond human understanding. According to Hinduism, samsara is the physical world where every being has its soul trapped into a physical vessel. The Hindus believe that everything has a soul, and due to a soul's attachment to desire, it is forced into a deathless cycle of being born, dying, and reincarnating into a different body. In Buddhism, the ultimate way to break free from this cycle is by obtaining nirvana.

Nirvana is a Sanskrit word for the goal of the Buddhist path: enlightenment or awakening. In Pali, the language of some of the earliest Buddhist texts, the word is nibbana; in both languages it means "extinction" (like a lamp or flame) or "cessation." It refers to the extinction of greed, ill will, and delusion in the mind, the three poisons that perpetuate suffering. Nirvana is what the Buddha achieved on the night of his enlightenment: he became completely free from the three poisons. Everything he taught for the rest of his life was aimed at helping others to arrive at that same freedom.

- TRICYCLE'S definition of nirvana

As Fukuchi mentions in the panel above, there are six different realms of existence. These realms represent every possible state of existence, but one cannot live in a specific realm forever. Depending on whether or not one's past actions were morally good or bad, an individual is born into one of these realms. Basically, the controlling factor of which realm a person is born into is dependent on their respective karma. The realms are separated into two categories: the hellish ones and the heavenly ones.

The Deva Realm: where beings are rewarded for the good deeds they have done. This realm is void of anything unpleasant. It is basically paradise— empty of unfulfilled desires, any form of suffering, and fears of every kind. Religious individuals, however, do not seek to be born into this realm since its attitude is more or less carefree.

The Asura Realm: where demigods are admitted. Asuras are driven by greed and envy, and may come in conflict with human beings since they are quite similar. They are powerful beings, but quarrel with each other quite a bit, making this realm quite undesirable to be reborn into.

The Animal Realm: where beings are given the form of an animal (you probably guessed that lol). Individuals here don't actually have good karma to take pride in, but rather, they are born into this realm to work off their bad karma (by being slaughtered, hunted, or forced to work, etc). Being born into this realm forces one to atone for their past sins by living out their life as an animal.

The Hell Realm: where one is punished for their evil actions. The most merciless of realms, where one pays for their transgressions through pure suffering, methods of which include: dismemberment, starvation, and psychological/physical torture. However, once a person's term is fulfilled in this realm, they are presumably promised to be reborn into a higher state.

The Preta Realm: similar to the hell realm, in which beings pay for their past sins (specifically: greed and stinginess) by having to survive through hunger and thirst. This realm is also known as the 'ghost realm,' because some pretas are psychologically tortured by being forced to live in places their past selves have lived in. They are invisible to human beings living at that time, which pushes them to face the depths of despair and loneliness. Your typical horror movie, really.

The Human Realm: the only realm where one's actions determine their future. The status (social ranking, physical wellbeing, and so on) of a human being in this realm is determined by their past actions, but due to the fact that a person has their own conscience to differentiate good morals from bad, the actions they commit in this realm have the power to determine which realm they are sent to next.

Okay, so now that I've got that out of the way, let's shift our focus to the Book. Very little is known about the Book, but the basic fundamentals of how it works is that whatever is written in the book will come into existence only if its contents follow the rules of karma. In addition to that, only a few sentences can be written into a single page of the Book, and it must follow the current narrative of the story.

If I'm not wrong, the first time the Book was mentioned was by Fitzgerald, who wanted it to resurrect his deceased daughter in hopes of restoring his wife's mental health. The next time the Book is brought up is when Fyodor's intentions to possess it are divulged; his goal was to decimate the global population of ability-users. And now, the current arc has the Book as its central focus, with a single page in Fukuchi's possession.

[ BEAST!AU spoilers ]

The Book acts as the central point of multiverses, with each character's lives differing from universe to universe.

Dazai committing suicide in this alternate universe stands in sharp contrast with how he decided to start up a new life in the main universe.

Oda staying alive to act as a mentor to Akutagawa in the ADA differs from how Oda uses his death to prompt Dazai to "be on the side that saves people."

And of course, the way Atsushi and Akutagawa have their positions switched in the two universes depicts how different their lives would be if they were given the chance to be mentored by different people— these are just a few examples of how the Book houses an endless amount of possibilities.

[ end of BEAST!AU spoilers ]

Hypothetically speaking, this kind of reminds me of the differing realms I mentioned before, where suffering is promised in some realms, and better things are granted in the rest, depending on one's karma, or the deeds they've done in their past lives. In this scenario, perhaps one's past life can be understood as one's current life in a different universe. That's just a personal opinion though. Take it as you will.

side note: Keep in mind that the person who is more or less impervious to the Book's effect is Dazai, with his nullification ability. I wouldn't want to propose any theories in this aspect (I don't believe I'm fully fact-checked ;_;), but I could use Dazai as a raw example of how your choices affect your future. If Dazai had decided to stay in the Port Mafia after Oda's death, or if he even decided to go through with his suicidal fixations, life would've been different for him in the root universe (obviously, ryley) I mean, you could basically understand that from how he ended up in the BEAST au, but imagine if he really did slip up in his decision-making in any of the universes.

Many analysts have proposed that he went MIA (early in his life) from the main universe for a while to figure out how the BEAST universe worked, whilst having the Book to his advantage. Perhaps his actions were guided? I'm not saying he's all-knowing, but he's sure as hell smart. I'm not sure if Kafka was trying to highlight the concept of karma when it comes to Dazai, but if he is, then I suppose you could say that Dazai is pretty much unaffected by the rules of karma, existing as the centerpiece of all the multiverses. No Longer Human is the namesake of his ability, but the book talks about disqualification from societal norms and generally, the world. I was talking about it with a friend, and they reminded me that Yozo (the main protagonist) was pretty strong in his views against society. Like he didn't speak out of total defeat, he spoke out of defense. If there was anything Dazai actually lost to, it was his guilt— "Living itself is a source of sin."

Then again, that's my personal interpretation since everyone has their unique perspective of his writings. In terms of the actual adaptation, you could translate the word 'disqualification' to 'insusceptibilty' when if it came to the Book's effects on Dazai? This side note is becoming really long lmao anyways I'll link a few theories which afflicted me with brainrot down below.

Another thing before I wrap up, the name 'Decay of Angels' stemmed from Yukio Mishima's book entitled 'The Decay of An Angel.' This is the final novel to the author's tetralogy: 'The Sea of Fertility.' The main protagonist, Honda, meets a person he believes to be a reincarnation of his friend, Kiyoaki, who takes the form of a young teenage boy named Tōru. The last novel of this series enhances Mishima's dominant themes of the series as a whole:

the decay of courtly tradition in Japan

the essence and value of Buddhist philosophy and aesthetics

Mishima’s apocalyptic vision of the modern era

Again, this could be referred to what Fukuchi goes on to say:

Some people view the concept of samsara optimistically, justifying it by saying that perhaps each individual is given a second (third, fourth, fifth, who knows) chance to refine their actions in order to be birthed into a better realm, with their karma being the independent variable.

On the other hand, other people, specifically the Hindus, view the cycle of existence as some sort of plague. To them, the flow of life and being forced to endure the suffering of mere existence in any form was somewhat frowned down upon. Some Hindus viewed samsara as a trap. Besides, having one's soul being limited to a physical body for the rest of eternity was not very appealing, especially since where they ended up at depended on the karmic value their past actions surmounted.

Even so, particular types of Buddhists don't seek nirvana, but instead, like the Hindus, they make an effort to be good people of society, building up their good deeds to increase the likelihood of being reborn into one of the better realms.

As mentioned before, the Deva Realm was the home of angels, the most carefree, gratified beings to exist. Fukuchi describes these angels as the people who don't get their hands dirty, the people who act as the puppeteers of society: politicians.

In terms of parallels, angels were the most fortunate and powerful, but they didn't have anyone ruling over them. A lack of supervision would lead to the abuse of power, which is what I believe Fukuchi was referring to. Deeming himself the Decay of Angels, he sought to prove himself as the 'sign of death that falls on the nation's greed.'

A few fun facts (okay, not really) about Yukio Mishima: he committed seppuku (ritual suicide by disembowelment) on the day he held a speech to voice out his unpopular political beliefs to the public. Mishima deeply treasured traditions and opposed the modern mindset the nation was advancing forward to adapt eventually. In his last book, The Decay of an Angel, he spoke about the five signs which complete the death of an angel:

Here are the five greater signs: the once-immaculate robes are soiled, the flowers in the flowery crown fade and fall, sweat pours from the armpits, a fetid stench envelops the body, the angel is no longer happy in its proper place.

The Decay of an Angel, p.53

The reviews about this series I've read so far describe Mishima's works to be quite complex; his writings demanded a lot of time to deconstruct and understand. They were highly symbolic, and he was pretty obsessed with death and the 'spiritual barrenness of the modern world.' I think you could attach a few strings from here to the mindsets of the DOA members. Of course, this parallel is completely abstract, but I'll go on rambling anyway:

He should have armed them with the foreknowledge that would keep them from flinging themselves after their destinies, take away their wings, keep them from soaring, make them march in step with the crowd. The world does not approve of flying. Wings are dangerous weapons. They invite self-destruction before they can be used. If he had brought Isao to terms with the fools, then he could have pretended that he knew nothing of wings.

The Decay of an Angel, p.113

I suppose you could resonate Nikolai with that excerpt. As much as Fukuchi takes the lead in this whole murder association, I'd like to believe that each member of the DOA plays an equally interesting part in whatever movement they're trying to execute. Fyodor feels it is his god-sent purpose to cleanse the world of its sins, his motto being, "Let the hand of God guide you." Sigma doesn't know where he belongs, since his origination comes from a page in the Book, and is fueled by the desperation to find a reason to live. Bram holds one of the most powerful abilities which is counted to be one of the "Top Ten Calamities to Destroy the World."

What I mean to say is that the DOA members are incredibly powerful, and they're not your ordinary antagonists (or I'm just biased). It's not just overthrowing authorities, mass genocide, and world domination— you could say that each individual is trying to utilize their purposes to their fullest expenditures, and the way they're trying to assert their plan into action is a little more passive-aggressive (framing the Agency, having a convo with a suicidal dude in jail, etc). They're the gray area between evil and good. As they framed the good guys for their own crimes, they're trying to conquer the bad guys for exploiting the innocent as they please.

This post would definitely age well if all hell breaks loose in the current arc (as if it didn't) and Kafka doesn't give us a happy ending.

That's all I have to say for now I guess! Thank you for reading, and once again, if anyone else something they wanna share, feel free to do so <3

sources (tryna follow Q's example ^_^) :

the six realms

samsara

the decay of angels

beast!au

the book

the sea of fertility

yukio mishima

theory: dazai’s emotional/mental state in beast!au

q’s theory: dazai being the protector of the book

theory: beast!dazai and the book

[siflshonen]

MHA - Saving the League of Villains Question

The following question, set in purple text below, was submitted directly to this blog, but I'm gonna treat it like an ask.

"Do you have some idea what would it mean to save LoV within the world built in MHA? It should be more than just removing AFO's influence over them and then shipping them off to Tartarus. It should be more than villains dying to save heroes (or civilians) from AFO."

I can't read Horikoshi's mind in terms of what he thinks it will mean, but I have some ideas of what it could mean!

And yes, I absolutely think it shouldn't just be the villains dying to save Heroes or civilians or all of the villains being locked away in Tartarus. In fact, I think that would be a stupid, reductive, and all-around shitty end if that's the fate of every single villain in MHA's LoV. I will be REALLY upset if that happens.

Basically, I think saving the Villains is giving them a way to not only forgive those that wronged them (or don't forgive them, depending! I don't give a shit if Dabi, Shigaraki, and Toga decide they hate their families forever so long as they make peace with whatever way their feelings fall), but forgive themselves for whatever part they played or felt they had to play in their, well, "villanousness". Air quotes intentional.

As for what that means for their fate in the story, I dunno. I've got some general ideas below the cut, though.

In addition to playing a part in creating social reform that, while too late to necessarily do anything for the LoV members in particular, would stop and prevent the continued social rhetoric of quasi-caste and eugenics thinking of "quirkism" (and I don't just mean between those with quirks and without - I also mean in terms of how people in MHA tend to see others quirk-first like in the case of Toga in particular), I also think the Villains should be put in recovery programs (which would include some confinement time, but I mean this less for the sake of "punishment because they broke a law" and more for the sake of actually putting them in an environment where they can get the help they need without the mundane and sensationalized influence of the outside world constantly looming over them. Because it is true that much of the LoV is a danger to others, but also a danger to themselves sometimes!!!! Compress and Magne (both of whom we didn't know a lot about before they died), Kurogiri (who is a corpse), and Shuichi Iguchi/Spinner (who... like, we could talk about how otaku and hikkikomori do and don't self-sabotage as a fun exercise, but for the sake of this discussion I am excluding him) notwithstanding, the League members all exhibit self-destructive behaviors!!!) but then be accepted back into society, even if there are some restrictions placed upon them that are specific to them (for example, Dabi probably can't use his fire more than a stipulated amount. And honestly? It's just as much to keep him from burning himself to cinders permanently as it is to keep him from adding to his body count).

While some of this does come with "imprisonment" on the surface, I would want whatever direction is given to their fates be given with compassion. I would like for them to have room to make peace with their past and be able to nurture and pursue new dreams - ones that actually bring them satisfaction and allow them to connect with others.

Anyway, I absolutely do not think the Villains are individuals who need to be "dealt with" with such disconnected judgement as a blanket fate of permanent imprisonment or sacrificial death. That is not and should not be the only redemption or just course of action. I'd like to think the story so far agrees with me, but I guess we'll see.

[yanderecandystore]

Hello, this is the first time I’ve come here and I’d like, if possible, you could place my order, I don’t remember if I already placed that ask or something, so if yes, sorry to bother you...

I can order something with Yandere! Vampire with a Vampire Slayer! Reader, please...

Welcome in!

Well yes boo, you did make a very similar request, and I'm sorry if it took me like a long time to answer you (at least to me it feels like a whole month has passed, time has been so slow and so fast somehow-) it's just that I'm dealing with a lot of stuff outside of Tumblr and although I try to not think about it, it does affect my performance in writing. Also you're not bothering me at all boo!

Also I just realized something, normally when I write I put really mean remarks about the reader but it's not supposed to be taken seriously by you guys, as it's mostly either an look into the perspective of the ocs (normally the bullies who are very mean and cruel-) or even an exaggeration on the reader's current mind state (if the reader feels dumb about a certain action they have chosen, I try to make them sound very exaggerated since I don't want any of you to take it personally, y'all are beautiful okay? Don't worry about the snarky comments and rude remarks that I may write).

I'll try to make it more obvious that it's mostly a character's exaggerated perspective next time, or maybe put trigger warnings about degrading language/mean comments.

TW/Tags: mentions of addiction (to blood) // male x male // male reader // vampy vamp // monster(vampire) x (human)reader // mentions of death // unofficial OC/just a random character I decided to create for this specific piece // captivity/kidnaping // mentions of torture/infliction of pain // mind control/gaslighting/manipulation and stockholm syndrome // being drugged/poisoned // kinda sadistic but not so much so cause I like giving y'all some softness.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

True love is found in small bites [Yandere!M!Vampire x M!Vampire Hunter!Reader - Headcanon]:

Who doesn't like a little one on one with an immortal creature in a fight filled with sexual tension? Who wouldn't want to prove their worth to their dad who is a lonely vampire hunter?

Your dad had hunted vampires all by himself for years now and he won't stop until the day he drops dead, or at least that's what he told you.

He taught you everything that you needed to know, and honestly- You probably know a lot more than some of the guys who are paid to do this every month, Hell, your dad hunts them basically every week! That's kinda the reason why he won't accompany you this time, too busy dealing with vampires in a neighboring village, some rumours of some high profiled vampires coming into your hometown… He was very concerned for your safety before deciding that whenever these rumours were true or not, he needed to check them for himself regardless.

You decided to go on a hunt on your own, hunt one down and prove to your man that you'll do just fine all by yourself.

However, you have the knowledge from the books you read and from what your father taught you, but you don't have personal experiences in fighting vampires. So that's why you're finally going to take down a vampire all by yourself.

It took you some time to find the right target, but after hearing complaints about some odd things happening in the less wealthy part of town, you thought you had a pretty clear picture of what happened. You thought that maybe some vampires have been attacking the poorest people in town to not cause a bigger panic in the population, and sadly enough, you were right.

Apparently the vampirism started to spread uncontrollably as the newly transformed vampires weren't accustomed with the new malevolent power. Some would get addicted to blood and to the power they hold against humans, and start to bite more than what they can chew on.

You found someone who was acting suspiciously, a commoner who was acting more aggressively towards his neighbors and family, he had created a lot of enemies in only a couple of days after being transformed, as he was now acting like "royalty" surrounded by peasants. The poor bastard was out of his mind, and sadly you needed to take care of him before he would hurt more people.

The work of a vampire slayer (or at least, one who works on their own accord) isn't as glamorous or "pleasant" as most may think, it involves you constantly questioning yourself and your morals, the guy you're hunting has a family but from what you heard and from what you have seen as you observed him from afar- He is clearly gone, consumed by the addiction of human blood, he would end up hurting his own family if you didn't intervene.

You had to stalk him for basically the whole day, collecting information and waiting for a good opportunity to strike him- Sadly enough, you didn't know that someone else was also interested in killing him.

It was pretty quick now that you think about it- You were about to tackle him when someone else got to do it before you. You didn't know about vampire society's inner relationships but you are aware that there is some form of hierarchy, and that those who were transformed into vampires were considered to be closer to the bottom than those who were born into it. The bottom of their social structure being those who they could all feed on, so in other words humans.

As you have already prepared yourself to attack the blood addictic, this guy who seemed to have come out of nowhere has already noticed that he wasn't alone, you wouldn't be able to hide yourself at this point and running wouldn't be an option considering how fast he moved.

The only option was left was to fight this vampire who was clearly way too powerful for your newbie ass. It was a pretty tough fight, and even if you have lost- You did manage to prove that you weren't just a random human who found themselves in the wrong place, in the wrong time.

You were very well prepared- Idris was pretty impressed by your resistance, but from his eyes, you were lacking a lot in the intelligence department. You were a good brawler, but not a decent vampire slayer by far- He would question you about your level of skill constantly, even mocking the idea of you being an "newbie" at this job.

Idris had won in the end, making you his prisoner who he would bring back to his clan to be used as an easy food source while also giving them info about other vampire slayers. Of course you wouldn't give them anything, no matter how bad your situation was you would still fight to the very end.

Idris had used one of his abilities to bring you two to his clan's hideout in a blink of an eye, you weren't expecting it to be so quick. You were tied up and inside an "abandoned" mansion filled with vampires, you were sure you wouldn't survive this at all- Yet you had promised yourself to not give them any information about other vampires slayers, especially your father.

You have met them, all of them- All of the Nox clan of pure vampires (or at least the last of them), in one single place. They were all so eager to jump in and start the "fun" with you. To torture you, drink from you, control your mind so you would spill all that you know, they tried to but you wouldn't stop squirming and fighting their touch- However, your attitude has only helped to aggravate them.

Idris was in charge of taking care of you- And by that they meant he was the one who would be screwing with you the most. He would keep you alive with your bare necessities but would also be the one to punish and torture you to speak up.

Interestingly enough, Idris wasn't interested in violently taking the truth out of you- Oh no, boo- He was much more sadistic than that.

He saw you as a plaything, like a cat he would see you as something he should toy with before devouring- He would try to push you to your limits verbally, trying to trigger some sort of wound you may have. You were stronger than he assumed, he should have known you weren't so dumb to give in to his insults and threats.

He would still bite you though, hey, a man needs some blood before continuing his private interrogation, right? It's not his fault you're both his snack and the one being interrogated.

You were strong minded, you weren't feeling too awful about being taken as a prisoner, since you felt as if deep down you could still escape this- So the effects of the poison that he would inject on you weren't showing up at first, but after sometime of being under this terrible living condition with only him to talk with, you started to feel some type of weird way around him.

It could be the poison finally taking over, but you have started to notice some… Particular choices that Idris took when interacting with you. Again- It could be all some magic shit in your mind, but you could swear that the lingering touches from him weren't rough or painful as his threats.

Idris was never physically harmful towards you, even to his peers dismay as they would constantly scold him for being too soft. He was indeed very off putting and sadistic- But could he be hiding something deep inside his literally cold exterior? You started to think so… Well, you started to hope so.

See, although the poison is already making your mind dizzy and making you feel some kind of weird attraction towards Iris- It wasn't completely just your mind playing tricks on you, Idris has been trying a new tactic with you and it was working.

Maybe you haven't noticed yet, but for the last few weeks he has started to flirt with you more, touch you more and whisper less concerning things into your ears, and you were eating it all up due to your isolation and his poisonous bite.

The more he sucked your blood, the more enamoured you were with his softer "side", the poison becoming stronger with each bite. But everyday you two spend time together, Idris can't help but feel just as interested in you as you are to him. He may play it off as a sadistic manipulative (which he kinda is-) vampire who is above you and his own feelings- But whenever it's just you and him, he just feels like there is a bigger connection being formed.

The more you two get to know each other the more he'll start falling for you, to the point he doesn't know if he is faking empathy and care or if he actually likes you in a weird way. He has started to feel very satisfied whenever you start acting clingy, desperate even for his attention (again- He is the only one willing to even talk with you before biting you and sucking your blood), the sensation of power he feels is a little bit overwhelming- But very much appreciated.

You have started to feel some side effects from losing so much blood everyday, which has made Idris concerned and incapable of drinking from you for at least some time while you recover from it. But since you need some time to rest without being injected with more venom from fangs, which will cause you to start waking up from your brainwashed state and remember that A: It has been months since you were gone, your dad is out there looking for you and it's possibly thinking you're dead; B: You're trapped in a mansion filled with the last vampires of a powerful clan which has been massacred by vampire slayers like you; and C: You were starting to catch feelings for the one who brought you here- Regardless of manipulation and freaky vampire shit- You were indeed falling for his charm.

Whenever that happens, it will be obvious that you'll start trying to fight them and escape again, even if you're very, very weak from all these months without proper training and healthy eating habits.

You may try your hardest dear, but you'll need a better plan than just going feral on Idris. He is a lot stronger than you, especially since you can't even stand up on your own, and even hurting him makes you feel oddly awful- You had relied on him for so long, that it feels like you would be betraying him if you actually do hurt him, it seems like some of the effects of so much time under his manipulation are still present.

You can't hurt him, but you can still try to sneak out. You should still try to escape!

You would eventually come up with a plan to run away while it was still morning, even if it was a very flawed plan considering that the only place you knew in this entire mansion was Idris's room and bathroom. For some miracle reason, you would find a way to sneak out, it was pretty hard considering you have no strength in your legs, yet luckily no one seemed to be aware of your sudden movement around the corridors- Apparently the whole clan is composed of heavy sleepers.

Your escape was successful, but you wouldn't be able to reach safety anytime soon in your condition- And you knew that eventually they would wake up again and Idris would find you soon. Yet as you had promised yourself and your father, you weren't going down without a fight.

Idris is responsible for you, so whenever he notices that you were gone- He would first assume one of his kind has took you, but considering how everyone else in the clan considers him to be a nuisance and incompetent, he couldn't possibly ask around where were you. If he did, they would end up yelling at him and take you as their personal blood bag- He couldn't let them know that you have escaped.

He would search for you and be honest to god thankful that you weren't dead yet- He would be pissed but more concerned about your current state, after all you were supposed to be resting from losing so much blood and yet here you are: Trying to survive the wild nature around the mansion in a stupid attempt of escaping the vampires.

Idris would have to bite you more often while also giving some days off so you could rest, but doing in a way that you never lose the effects of the poison- He can't stand to see you fighting him so much.

I mean- He thinks that it's pretty attractive how fiesty you are, but he needs you to stay still in his bedroom and to start giving him those confused yet passionate eyes again- Idris doesn't know whether or not you're in love with him or is just acting in instinct considering your current position, and he soon will find himself begging for you to truly give in to this weird fantasy he has built around you two- But for now, all that he wants is the smallest affection that may come from you, even if it's not as true and morally correct as true love is supposed to be.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

[sameore]

So, I left Reddit: here is my personal experience.

So, I recently decided to quit Reddit. 

To make it short: I didn’t find myself in Reddit’s values. Why? Well, that’s what you’ll get to find out throughout this (illustrated) article!

But, before we begin, I would like to specify that, obviously, everything that is written here will only imply my personal feelings about this platform. It doesn’t mean it should be generalized as an absolute truth: basically, this is just me venting about my personal experience. (You might still want to see if you find yourself in some of my words though? Perhaps, you might have felt something similar at some point?)

Anyway.

If there is one thing I can say, it is that it’s not the first time I’ve seen Reddit being described as “toxic” by some (current and former) users. 

And to be honest with you, the term “toxic” was also a word that intuitively came to mind when it came to describe my personal feeling regarding my experience with this website (far before I got to find out I wasn’t alone!) Yet, it has taken awhile for me to finally decide to just quit... till I felt overloaded.

Meanwhile, many people keep using it, that is is because it is full of resources (which it is!), or to fill up their feeling of boredom or loneliness... but basically, this social network actually works and gathers a large community.

So, what made Reddit “toxic” (at least for me)? 

1. The conformist aspect of Reddit.

One of the feelings I had about Reddit and its community was that it was mainly based on social desirability, and more generally conformist principles.

Well, though these principles can be globally found at some extent in our society (and don’t get me wrong, I don’t always associate “conformity” with something negative), on Reddit it felt like it tended to be… somewhat reinforced.

To sum it up: if you want to fit in, you have to think like the others, and show what a majority wants to see.

And what if you don’t think like the others? Well, the system enables people to anonymously downvote you… which basically gives them the power to literally punish you for having, well… different ideas.

And when I’m talking about different ideas, I’m not especially talking about having controversial views, or being a jerk. But literally thinking a bit differently, having a different insight?

While this is a point I have already mentioned and developed in one of my previous Tumblr posts awhile ago, I suppose the justice system of Reddit was initially based on the following principle that is: “Be nice, you’ll get upvotes, be a jerk and you’ll get downvoted”.

Except that… this is in an idealistic world where people are all benevolent with one another.

And the truth is that, well. You might want to share ideas you love, and yet get punished for this. That it is: regardless of how nice, considering you are... they don’t like your ideas? You get lashed.

*As a concrete example (that I also have brought up in my previous article), I currently have a fixation in which I represent Alastor (from Hazbin Hotel) as a trans man.

So, my little happy neurodivergent self wanted to share my ideas with other people… and perhaps, find some who might like the same things as me? I just wanted to feel… you know, less alone.

And instead, this is what I got on r/HazbinHotel (and later on r/HazbinHotelFanart too... huh, perhaps they migrated?): a bunch of downvotes! And a few depreciative comments, obviously supported by other people from the same fan community.

This also applied to a comment I left on someone’s thread asking for our main headcanons. I wanted to make new friends, but... you know.

(Seems like imagining Al as a trans man pissed off that part of the community!)

Thing is: not only will it affect the number of points you receive on your single publication (called karma on Reddit) but also directly the karma that shows up on your profile page.

Alongside, if in the comment section your comment is sufficienly downvoted, it gets buried (which hasn’t happened to me personally, but you might observe interesting cases sometimes).

So this is it: you get punished for having different ideas. As much as your comments or your publications have to fit with the attitude of the majority within a community.

Well, so: you have to consider one point every time you want to post something on Reddit: what’s the majority’s attitude toward this one specific subject?

Post what people want to see. This is basically what the whole system lays upon and what we call in social sciences: social desirability. This basically encourages you to show the best part of you… or anyway, what others might consider as the best part of you. You want karma? Think like the others or you’ll get a sanction.

And, how about creating a community on Reddit… with the same ideas as you? Well! This might definitely work at a certain extent, but this won’t remove the fact you will still have to consider the majority’s attitude every time you post something (that it is a new publication or a comment). 

This feeling people have to think the same way made my mind (sadly) start associating Reddit and its users with... a huge mass. Both heterogeneous, and yet homogeneous at the same time... but in a way, I could hardly consider people as individual entities, if not just as part of a mass. (And that’s when I started feeling like something was going wrong in my mind...)

Paradoxically, I think this whole point is yet also something that reinforced in me the idea that I don’t want to identify to those people, or base my self-esteem on their attitude. So, basically I shouldn’t stop doing my artistic works or having my ideas because those people don’t like them.

2. An easier way to spread hatred online…

Now we talked about the upvote/downvote system in which you can literally reward or punish someone pretty much anonymously… well.

I suppose I might also have a word to say about this concept of feeling “anonymous” online.

While I definitely agree with the fact pseudonymization is quite important when it comes to use the Internet (which isn’t a synonym of anonymity by the way) as a barrier to protect oneself (and even more the underage users!), many people might actually feel “anonymous” online…

And, while in an idealistic world, you would expect people to use this barrier of protection for the only purpose of… feeling protected, basically (or in other legitimate situations, such as using a name that might suit them more than their legal name for example?), well, reality is somewhat different…

The feeling of being “anonymous” often offers this feeling of not taking responsibility for the course of one’s actions… and sometimes, regardless of the impact it might have toward the other person. Unfortunately, this also conducts many people to spread hatred without ever thinking they might pay the consequences for any of it.

Well, you know how (many) humans behave, don’t you? When they feel like they won’t be granted any responsability for what they do.

Just check the state of public places, or even public toilets? That might give you a little idea.

Alongside, there is a fair difference between using your freedom of speech with courtesy, and literally abusing of it, by: sending insults without any genuine reason, threats, harassment, humiliation etc.

Now, apply all of what I said above to Reddit… if you add the fact people can downvote anyone without feeling like they will have to take responsibility from any of it: it will yet only take them half a second to do the deed.

But, other things on Reddit will also enable you to do actions without your username being associated with them!

As a concrete example I have in mind, a Redditor mentioned the fact they received a reward on one of their comments about something they liked, to receive an anonymous message… telling them to kill themself. (You can decide to send an anonymous reward to someone and then a message associated with it)

While the Internet is a universe that can be full of resources, it is yet important to remember that alas, not everyone will be benevolent in there, regardless of the social network you use (I think Twitter also has a quite bad reputation regarding this matter…)

However, Reddit’s system might unfortunately favor this type of behavior .

So, please. Remember there is a human behind that screen. That’s why I think it’s important to stay respectful and courteous with one another.

3. The (excessive?) communitarianism of Reddit.

3.1 Toward a community, for the community.

I’ve noticed there is something that tends to distinguish Reddit from the other social platforms: where you post your content.

While, let’s say, on DeviantArt, Tumblr, or even Twitter the content you post is mainly on your personal page (then you can use common places including groups or forums to promote it, or even hashtags), on Reddit…

… well, you post on communities (also called “subreddits”).

You might try to post on your personal page (yes, you can), but let’s be honest: without the possibility to add tags/hashtags, your content is very likely to stay there… unseen, and without much interest per se.

Personally, I felt like what made me exist on Reddit was truly the interactions I had within communities than as an person per se. Thing is… it felt like my comments were just like one among a mass of people. And if you were lucky by any chance… it might receive a few karma points.

Yet, this type of dynamics didn’t especially enable me to make a lot of friends, as… err, how could I describe that? Well, it felt like people quickly passed by, left their comment… then left toward another thread. I don’t know... Everything was so mechanic. Everything was so quantitative, maybe? Mechanical, mindless sometimes? It made me feel a bit like a pawn among a bunch of people… and you “exist” by the karma you get from these interactions.

So, finally, while at first I wanted to feel less lonesome… to be fair, it made me feel more and more… lonesome instead.

(Which might sound like a paradox when we imagine the idealistic dynamics of a “community”, right?)

Another (minor) point that was probably meant to contribute to the feeling of belonging to a community (and resembling one another) was the concept of the avatar that you could use on this platform: the same character with the exact same posture that you could more or less customize. I guess some people might like this concept, others a bit less.

To be honest, while I tried this avatar pattern myself (to fit in the mass), I have yet to admit I salute those who were using singular avatars instead.

Well, now… don’t get me wrong, I don’t have anything against the principle of “community” per se. I think it is also important to gather people together around a same subject of interest, to not always stay alone in a corner…

And in fact, society is made of (a plurality of) communities! 

(Well, I might occasionally join groups or Discord servers… and if there is some good dynamics, I’m staying for awhile!)

But, to be fair, I also need my personal space, which I can find in other social networks. While they also offer you the possibility to share your work inside communities, it feels less mandatory to reach some visibility. You know, it feels more… personal maybe?

So, basically as you understood this point: Reddit’s dynamics is mainly focused on the notion of community than on the notion of individuality.

But, we aren’t done with this third point. Here is where it’s going to be interesting…

3.2. The derisory place of (individual) property

Communities, subreddits… and you might want to create a subreddit yourself!

But, little disclaimer if you do so (an element that I myself didn’t know before I started my own): this subreddit will NEVER be completely yours. And will MAINLY belong to the community, regardless of your will.

Now. Let me explain.

Before I quit Reddit, there was one last question that remained: what am I going to do with my subreddit?

My decision ended up being simple considering its lack of activity: I supposed it could just go to the graveyard with my account.

Alas… it didn’t take me long to find out about one thing: you can’t delete subreddits once you create them. And worse than that?

Well, if you quit, the members will actually become moderators themselves, regardless of your will.

If you add to this the fact you actually can’t truly know who’s part of the members, as you can’t even access to the list of the members of your own subreddit to begin with! (The only way to assume someone might be a member is if by any chance they have manifested their presence at some point, in a way you can see their username…)

Thankfully there is one thing you can do to prevent this from happening: you can set it as “private” (in case you wondered why Sam was locking a door in my first illustration), which will basically no longer grant access to the members you haven’t approved before.

HOWEVER. If you thought you could quit, with a condemned subreddit for ever… you are actually wrong!

Any Redditor can actually request an abandoned subreddit as their own.

Now, you’ll tell me: “But, why did you want to delete this subreddit if you could leave it to the existing community instead?”, which actually happens to be a legitimate question from a democratic point of view (and at first I might sound like the villain in the story!)

But here are the things from my perspective now.

Imagine you create a subreddit, have people join in to look at its content…

… but, you are the main driving force of this subreddit: you struggle to promote it, to make it active by posting content, you support the (very rare) contributors who might post in there. And nobody helps you. You are always alone.

Who encourages you? Who helps you promote it? Who contributes? You, and only yourself. And people… just watch.

Well, there is a very specific metaphor I like to use in this type of situations, including one-sense relationships. And it’s this one.

The sled that might be pushed/pulled by only one person while the other(s) is/are sitting on it.

Now, from this perspective… who should get the fruit of these efforts?

Sam, who struggled hard to keep it going… or the people who were sitting on his efforts all along?

Needless to say someone reproached me to think that at some point I may want to keep the property of this subreddit, to at least have the right to delete it. As if… I owed them something, somehow.

Does this make me egoistic? 

But if so, I’d tend to think I’m fine with being egoistic, as it’s pretty much consistent with my sense of (self) justice. As much as sometimes, you have to think of yourself before the others... perhaps it goes more with self-respect?

Meanwhile, did this person (or anyone else who read my announcement) ever wonder how the admin (myself) was doing, to begin with?

Anyway. In my personal opinion, though I could understand that in huge subreddits with many resources and contributors the question might legitimately be set on the table, I definitely think you should have a say regarding the future of your subreddit. More especially when it wasn’t very active to begin with, or you’ve been the main contributor to it…

(But that’s Reddit’s spirit anyway: everything belongs to the community!)

Moreover, I also noticed that Reddit, in fact… likes to keep things available, including the content you “delete”.

Well, there is a basical rule on the Internet that says: always be careful with the content you post online because it will stay there for ever.

But, unlike many platforms in which when you delete something you can’t really access to it anymore through its initial URL (which doesn’t mean no archive exists about it of course!), on Reddit, in fact, you can. For instance, just keep the URL of the “deleted” post and you’ll still be able to reach it back (though I’m not sure if the media will keep showing up… but you’ll still have access to the comment section and be able to participate).

If you delete your account, the content you have left there will remain… except that your username will be dissociated and be marked as “[deleted]”.

Reddit is for sure full of resources available for everyone… and for some reason, it truly wants it to remain available. And this, you won’t really have your say about this.

5. An international platform that mainly revolves around the United States of America (from my little French point of view)

One thing I have noticed with Reddit, is that it for sure gathers people from all over the world, but yet… everything revolves around the United States.

That it is about the news, politics, and the main subjects you can find on Reddit… most of it is about the USA.

(If you seek legal advices on r/legaladvice… it might be more complicated if you live outside the US for example)

I also saw a lot of popular threads asking these same questions such as: “Non-Americans, what do you think about the US?”, “How would you describe America?” or things involving politics from the US.

Of course, don’t bother responding with French references in the comment section of main subreddits: nobody will get them (except if you’re lucky and one Frenchie passes by).

Alongside, small communities exist for other countries, but the rest of Reddit is basically about the US. It felt a bit like… I was a little foreigner stepping in the USA maybe?

I guess we could think it’s normal as Reddit is typically American (made by Americans from the US basically), so it might be intuitive to predict it’s going to reflect the American culture after all.

Yet, I don’t know… from an external point of you, though the seat of most popular platforms online might be located in the US as well, I guess I didn’t feel as much… immersed in the US as in Reddit in fact. Despite some events taking place in the US (for obvious reasons), Tumblr, Twitter or even DeviantArt have felt more… international I guess? I felt like these platforms were less centered on a single country basically.

As for Reddit, I suppose if you live in the USA, you might feel at home at least.

6. Now, as for the positive aspects...

Well, while unfortunately the sum of the elements mentioned above made me quit, I have yet to say Reddit also has a few positive things to offer that might, perhaps, be more suitable for you!

One major thing about Reddit, as I mentioned a few times above, is that there is a great amount of resources in this platform. That it is about news, questions you might wonder, or content you are looking for?

There is a bit of everything on Reddit in fact (well, if you have very special kinks, you might find your happiness maybe?) So basically, you can find all types of communities and content in there. If you feel alone with something you experience or like, you might be surprised to find out some communities might exist about this same subject!

(This is also how I found out what seems to be my “aegosexuality”. ÔO Some stranger on Reddit suggested this term to me, which made me then discover a community existed around it. Well, not like I made any friend from it or it made me feel any less lonesome… but at least I found out it was a thing x)

Therefor, I guess if you don’t especially use it to interact with people in general, it might at least be ideal to visualize content.

(As a side note: Reddit is also a platform used by many influencers/Youtubers in their videos: and to be honest, it was interesting to discover some little corners from this platform).

Alongside, if some reactions happened to be hostile toward my art, I also have to admit that the dynamics of posting my content directly in communities had a positive side: it offered a greater visibility to my works in general, and for that aspect… well. Reddit definitely beat the other social networks to it!

But, to be fair, was that sufficient to keep me on this platform? Not really.

I suppose I’d rather go with less views, and a valuable community of people who truly like what I post than… that mass, that used to trigger this anxiety. Perhaps, I just prefer to be myself on my own page, than to feel the need to consider a majority’s attitude everytime I post in a community.  At least to stay consistent with myself.

Finally, I’ve kept a few contacts from Reddit, and this enabled me to discover actual people, as their individual selves. Which I tend to find more interesting actually. So, they will definitely be part of the positive experience I’ll keep in mind.

Anyway, I could say I would miss Reddit, but...

Today, I feel like this is the best decision I’ve taken as there is no more cognitive dissonance that remains, and this feels more consistent with my personal feelings and values. To be fair, not long after I quit, I felt like some sort of strong relief? I was eventually done with it. 

So this is it: I suppose I just didn’t recognize myself in Reddit’s spirit.

[villainentry127]

Why Midoriya did in-fact train for UA before meeting All Might

I have seen a lot of fanfics and analysis claim that Midoriya didn’t actually try training before meeting All Might and that has always rubbed me the wrong way (especially when used as a justification for shooting down his dreams or bullying him- but that is a discussion for another time)

So- here my analysis on why this is not only inaccurate, but also harmful to his character

TW- *Bullying and Discrimination*

At the beginning of the show we see Midoriya in middle school

As we can see, he’s on the thin side. We don’t really see him with rolled up sleeves before training with All Might, but we can assume because of this that he isn’t muscular right?

Wrong

You see, I am going to propose the idea that Midoriya has lean muscle

Midoriya is built for speed. The muscles he develops are RUNNERS MUSLCES. This means that the muscles won’t be as noticeable. You might be thinking that there isn’t any proof for this, but I promise this isn’t coming out of nowhere.

My proof has to do with the next part of this discussion; which is the Quirkless discrimination in the bnha society.

(I’m going to talk about some of the bullying but the focus is discrimination-I will be making another post that deal with Midoriya’s past and the bullying because I have FEELINGS-)

We can assume that since the bullying was physical as young as 4/5

With this scene in which we see Bakugo and his friends beating on Midoriya - We can infer that this behavior not only continued but likely escalated as the years went by

This is further supported by events such as the burning of the shoulder at Aldera, battle trials, final exam, and the fight after Kamino

Since this behavior was likely not only perpetuated by Bakugo but by multiple people (both adult and peer) throughout his life- he most likely developed instincts and tactics that would keep him safe- top of which would be RUNNING.

I say this instead of fighting back not because I believe that he wouldn’t try fighting back (I actually believe that he has in the past) but because of how we can see him being treated by teachers- that he would be punished for any altercation. Meaning in order to stay as safe as possible running would have to be a past time he is proficient at.

Running builds muscle (and not just in the legs but in the core as well) and it also increases stamina - both of which are helpful and important to hero training.

Now you may be thinking- that’s not enough, and you’re probably right. Without a quirk Midoriya would need to find other skills and strengths to balance it out.

Which brings me to the point of discrimination

At the very beginning we hear Midoriya say this in reference to his chances at UA, “they got rid of that rule last year.” This was in direct reference to quirkless applicants. Meaning as little as 2 years ago Midoriya wouldn’t have even been allowed to apply

Taking this fact into account, along with the treatment Midoriya receives at Aldera (and from the Pro Hero’s during the Slime Villain incident and All Might) that quirkless discrimination is not only prevalent socially, but institutionally.

We can then infer that not only would Midoriya be barred from a hero school (based on the stereotype that quirkless equals weak and useless) that he would also be denied access to other high schools and - more importantly (to the point of this post)- gyms and dojo’s. Again, this would be justified most likely by the idea that it’s “too dangerous” for quirkless people or that “they don’t have adequate facilities” (another excuse most likely used for medical care as well)

On that note- I will most likely make another post on the discrimination in bnha society (not just for quirkless people) because I enjoy analysis and this is a topic I’ve got analysis about.

This means that Midoriya would have been physically barred from most- if not all- institutions that would have helped him build muscle or prepare. This would also apply to getting a personal trainer- most likely they wouldn’t take on a quirkless kid. (This applies not only in building muscle but in fighting ability)

I have feelings about the way All Might handles this-specifically the emphasis on muscle training. I think OFA is being used wrong by Midoriya which is gonna be another post (I’ve got a lot to say so get ready for a bnha analysis info dump in future posts)

In addition- even if he did find a place that would take him, the next issue would be finances. Midoriya comes from a single parent household. As someone who comes from a single parent household myself I can relate. For the most part I was able to get basic necessities, but anything extra often wasn’t something we could afford. Based on what I have observed, I would guess that the Midoriya’s live either lower middle class or lower class. This means that anything extra (especially if it was further away or the prices were increased due to his quirkless status) most likely wouldn’t have been affordable.

Even though Midoriya was limited- he actually didn’t just give up. Midoriya trained his mind. His analysis notebooks and quirk/hero analysis proves to be incredibly useful later on when he is able to analyze his opponents.

This is just discounted because bnha has an emphasis on physical strength.

In conclusion:

Midoriya did train for UA and wasn’t shooting for an impossible dream without actually trying. He did his best and blaming the oppressed party for not be allowed access to necessary services both socially and institutionally isn’t okay.

(This isn’t meant as an attack- I like started discussions and analyzing things so feel free to reach out to me if you want to talk more)

[jinmukangwrites]

@damianwayneweek Day 4 (6-16): Reverse batfamily | Hugs | Soulmate

Warnings: Canon typical violence, major injuries, background character death, ✨angst✨

Note: this one ran away from me. It got a mind of its own. If I had more time, this would be so much longer. I've always wanted to write a reverse batfam story with Damian's perspective. Please enjoy.

---

Damian has only spent a month living with his blood father, and he's felt nothing but miserable this entire time. Somehow, life has managed to become even more stressful and exhausting compared to living within the League of Assassins. He... understands why his mother felt he'd be safer here for the time being, but at least, back in Nanda Parbat he knew what he was doing and what the rules were.

He's not sure where he stands with his father. It's obvious that his father doesn't know where he stands with Damian either. Damian, his entire life, had grown up with the knowledge of Bruce Wayne being his father. Batman. Caped Crusader of Gotham. Hero. Bringer of Justice. His mother's dearest, most precious love after Damian himself. She spoke often of him. Highly. Only when alone and no one else to hear them. His father isn't exactly on high standings with his grandfather nor other high ranking members of the League.

Yet, his father knew nothing of him until the day they met. His mother brought him to the streets of Gotham, lured Batman to their location, and introduced them there. His father seemed visibly shocked under that cowl at the information of having a son, yet he didn't question it.

Damian didn't know what to expect after his mother left him for his own safety. He didn't know all too much about culture outside of the League. He was, of course, taught the basics to blend in with American society—as well as other countries—if the need so came, but other than that... He didn't know what to do with himself when he first stepped in the manor to find only one servant and a new home empty of anything to fill his time. The cave where his father operates was locked to him from the get-go.

His father doesn't seem to trust him. He explained the situation to the servant, and then sent Damian off with the servant to find a room with the warning that if Damian "did anything", he'd regret it.

Damian's hardly seen his father since. When he's not working as a CEO, he's out as Batman, and Damian sits in the manor all day and night running out of ways to keep himself entertained.

Sometimes he sees his father at supper, but he doesn't ever start any conversation. Damian doesn't start any either, thinking it's purposeful. He doesn't ask about Damian's stay, or if he's comfortable here, or anything. He doesn't update Damian on any new information about his mother and the league. The only words he speaks to Damian are gruff good nights.

Miserable. It's miserable. He doesn't understand why his mother is so in love with such a miserable man for company.

He doesn't speak up on it, however. If his father is anything like his teachers or his grandfather, questioning him or speaking out of turn will just get him in trouble. He'd like to keep his stay at a tolerable level of misery, thank you very much.

So he doesn't say anything to his father, even though he's itching to go out with him at night to... to do whatever he does. He's seen the television, Superman has a kid fighting with him in Metropolis. Why can't Damian do the same with his father as well? He can wear a mask and change his name. He can easily defend himself, even against this country's love for guns.

He still doesn't say anything, and he spends the days miserable.

-o-o-o-o-

It's the butler, Alfred as he has insisted many times during his stay (Damian humors him by calling him by his first name, being as he's the only one to speak to Damian in this drab house), who suggests school a few months after coming here.

"School," his father says blankly, looking at Alfred like he's lost his mind.

"He's a young, growing boy," Alfred says. "It's not good for the lad to be inside all day like this."

Damian sits at the dining table, stiff like he's stepped on a landmine and is now waiting for it to explode. However, he can't help but look up at his father through his lowered eyebrows to meet his sharp gaze. School... doesn't sound like something that would be any fun, but... but anything to get out of this manor sounds almost heavenly.

His hopes fall when his father shakes his head. "No. It's too dangerous."

And something inside Damian snaps just a little. "Dangerous for who?" He demands, slamming his hands on the table. "For me? Or for the other children?"

His father looks stunned, and Damian's stomach drops as Alfred's eyes widen as well.

He's running out of the dining room before anything else can be said.

He's messed up. He's definitely, royally, messed up.

-o-o-o-o-

Punishment for yelling at his father doesn't come like he expects it to. A week goes by, and there's not a single word of his outburst.

It sets him on edge. It fries his nerves. It makes him jumpy and paranoid and frightened at every shadow.

So much so that he finally decides, one day, to pull the sword hanging above the library entrance off the wall and practice with it. It's heavier than what he's used to back in Nanda Parbat. British history is in the shape of the blade, but he still wields it and practices rusty moves on it until he's sweating in the middle of the library. Usually training makes him feel better, but the more time that passes, the more frustrated he gets.

He gets so frustrated that he imagines enemies surrounding him. He imagines the warmth of blood splattering against his skin as he swings. The taste as it touches his tongue. Their screams of death. He gets so deep in this trance that he doesn't notice he's broken something until the sound of crashing glass reaches his ears; he's swung right through a glass display case, the unprotected remains of a signed classic novel resting inside.

His heart jumps when the door opens to see what the commotion is about, and he drops the sword like it's hot when Alfred is the one to poke his head through.

"I'm sorry," he says.

Alfred gives him a long look, and then he sighs. "Come fetch the broom with me, and we can clean this up."

"Will you tell father?" Damian asks slowly. He can tell it's a loaded question when Alfred pauses and purses his lips.

"Not this time," he says finally, after a few heartbeats. "But I do think it's time I speak with him about some other things. Come along, the quicker we clean this up, the quicker I can get you a cup of tea to stop you from looking like a frightened racoon."

-o-o-o-o-

A few days pass, and his father invites him to follow after dinner. Out of everything Damian expects to come from this, being led into the batcave through a grandfather clock in the study wasn't one of them.

"You can train here," his father said, showing him a massive room in the cave filled to the brim with practice tools of all kinds. Dulled swords, throwing stars, bo-staffs, and straw dummies to name a few. There's locked cases on the far side of the training room, of which Damian suspects are full of much more sharp, dangerous, and fun tools.

No matter. He's already feeling his blood shake with excitement at the thought of finally getting some proper practices again.

"You can come down here only when myself or Alfred are here to supervise you," his father explains. "Nothing here leaves this room, and if anything breaks you tell us immediately."

"Can I start now?" Damian asks, barely managing to hold himself back from running towards the closest, one-handed blade.

His father, surprisingly, nods. "I'm going out, and Alfred will be down to help me with the computer. He will be in charge."

Damian can't stop himself from smiling. Finally there's something to do in this house. Feeling hopeful, he decides to ask one more question.

"Can I go with you? One day?"

Silence is his answer for a few heartbeats, making Damian suddenly fearful that he shouldn't have asked that. Then, his father sighs.

"We will see."

-o-o-o-o-

A few more days pass before they do see. He suspects Alfred must have had another conversation with his father, because he approaches him one night and offers to spar.

It's done in full concentration, not a single word exchanged between the two. Both are too busy studying the other's fighting patterns to say anything.

It's now that Damian realizes what his mother meant whenever she spoke about his father's advanced martial arts. It's brutal and expertly executed. It's only a matter of time before he's pinned. He's disappointed in himself, but not surprised to end up losing.

But not all is lost. He can tell his father is impressed when he releases his pin and tosses Damian a rag to wipe off his sweat.

"We need to talk to Alfred about getting you a suit."

-o-o-o-o-

The suit Alfred makes him is made of the strongest, thinnest material Damian had ever seen. It cannot only be Kevlar, because it would be heavier than this. It must have been created by his father himself, or one of his associates.

Whatever the case, he's in awe by it. Alfred is a master of every craft, it seems. He's managed to create the suit to Damian's submitted designs to the T, only making subtle changes here and there where sketches don't match up with reality.

It's mostly black, because according to his father white isn't a good color to go with in Gotham. It's understandable, as much as Damian dislikes it. He's always liked wearing whites and tans for his outfits, accenting here and there with greens and blues to bring out his eyes. Black is such a boring and dull color, but this, he supposes, he will have to deal with.

And it's not all black, at the least. Just the bits around his shoulders, cape, hood, sides, and legs. On his chest, however, is a splash of dark maroon, as well his boots and gloves. His belt is yellow, like his father's, and filled only with smoke pellets, a grappling gun, and a hanging pair of sticks that triple as escrima, a bo-staff, and nun-chucks. Not his preferred weapon, but his father doesn't seem to be very trustful with him and sharp ones yet.

He goes out into the city, out of the manor, for the first time in what feels like forever. His father keeps a sharp eye on him, reminding him every two seconds to not kill anyone, but Damian doesn't mind too much.

He's just happy to be out, and to finally get glimpses of what his father is truly like outside of the stories of his mother and the silent dinners.

He's ruthless, but not heartless. Strong, but not abusive. He prioritizes justice, above all else, and teaches Damian that even the criminals deserve it. The victims get saved, and his father leaves the criminals to be picked up by the cops to be brought to rehabilitation or wherever else they must go.

Damian's careful to remember these teachings, even though he doesn't understand them. He's been raised to think the only thing bad people deserved was punishment, but after taking down a bank robbery, his father researches the names of the robbers and finds that the bank keeper was blackmailing them to give him money on top of the loans they already had with the bank.

The bank keeper was trying to pay off the gangs to protect the bank from other gangs.

So on and so forth.

Gotham seems to be a big cycle of abuse, with no one willing to end it.

Well, no one besides his father.

It doesn't make sense to Damian why his father would try so hard to stop it, but he can at least respect it.

For now.

-o-o-o-o-

Everything goes almost fine until it doesn't.

For the first time in almost half a year, Damian finds himself separated from his father and Alfred. There's a new big bad in Gotham, a man with half of his face burned off by acid. Two-Face, he calls himself. Harvey Dent, his father informed before he left Damian behind to fight him alone.

"This is personal," he said.

And Damian didn't listen. He wanted to see what a real fight was like in Gotham. These petty bank robberies and classic muggings were getting boring and repetitive. He didn't mean to get so close.

His father was in a standoff with Two-Face, and on a stroke of bad luck one of the goons spotted him watching.

"It's Red Bird!" Shouted the goon. Red Bird is the name Gotham had started to call him by in the papers.

A group of the goons charged after him, the rest kept by Two-Face and his father, sneering as they separated his father from helping with their guns and a baby hostage.

And maybe it was seeing the child in Two-Face's arms that made him see red. Maybe it was the disappointment in himself for being spotted. Maybe it was simply all the pent up frustration that's been building without his knowledge since he's gotten here.

Whatever the case, he fought back a little harder than he meant to. What he was supposed to. He brought most of the goons down to the ground, clutching broken bones and bloodied gashes. His old training kicks in, and he goes to hit one of his opponents in a specific place that would kill them.

"RED BIRD!" His father shouts angrily over the commotion.

And Damian stumbles, stopping in his kill-path. His father sounds disappointed and upset and- and Damian almost disobeyed his orders and his father saw it immediately.

Then, before he can be fearful or horrified or confused, his own skull is hit hard enough that the world fades to black.

He wakes up with his arms tied behind his back and his entire person disarmed. His father stands at a makeshift pair of gallows, another man besides him. Both are hooded.

Two-Face flips his coin and asks Damian heads or tails. He says tails, and saves his father, but the other man hangs.

Then, Two-Face beats Damian with a bat, to the point he can't see straight, and the pain drags him back into unconsciousness. The last thought he has is that he's failed. He's disappointed his father, and he must have disappointed his mother as well if she hasn't come back for him yet.

He's failed.

-o-o-o-o-

He wakes in the batcave's med-bay, his entire body numb. He can only lay there with a tube running up his nose and needles in his arm, listening to the machine besides him voice his heartbeat. Vacantly, he can hear arguing voices outside his door, one of a woman he doesn't recognize and the other of his father.

He closes his eyes when the arguing gets too loud, but opens them sometime later when it stops and someone enters the room.

His father stands in the doorway, his face looking more raw and vulnerable than Damian's ever seen it.

"I thought I lost you," is all he says before he runs to the cot and grabs Damian's hand. The one not in a sling, he realizes. He's so numb he didn't even notice he had so many bandages and casts on him.

Not that he focuses on that for long. In fact, all he can focus on is that his father is clutching his hand like a lifeline and whispering over and over how sorry he is.

"I should have been better," his father rambles. "You're not like Jon, you don't have powers. I'm so stupid for letting you out there- I almost got you killed- your mother is going to murder me-"

Damian doesn't even know what to say. He's so flabbergasted by the actions of his father, that he just lays there as his father continues.

"I knew I wasn't cut out for this. I'm not even in my thirties, and I'm a dad. I tried my best to keep you safe, make sure you didn't get yourself into danger- and I fucked it all up. I don't know what I'm doing, Dami. I don't know- I'm sorry-"

And this continues for a little while longer until the door opens again, revealing Alfred and the woman who must have been yelling at his father before. She has gray hair, curled up like a loose afro around her head, revealing her old age. Behind her glasses, her eyes are sad. Together, Alfred and the woman approach the bed, and the woman lays her hand on his father's shoulder.

"We need to check his bandages," she says.

His father nods, wiping quickly under his eyes before he stands up. She gives Alfred a look before she leads Bruce out.

It's only Alfred and Damian for a moment, and Damian releases a breath.

"He's not going to let me out again."

Silence.

Then Alfred comes to his side and looks at the bandages. "I will talk with him. First, let's get you healed up and properly introduce you to Miss Thompkins."

-o-o-o-o-

Red Bird does go out again, once he's healed up. Alfred's talks with his father do wonders, it seems, as life at the manor has gone back to lonely and miserable—what with his father avoiding him at every chance. But he goes out again, swinging into the night with his father silently beside him having just finished retelling him every rule he must follow.

Damian intends to follow them. He doesn't want to lose this. He's come so close to losing this.

He hopes... That maybe... If he follows the rules... Things will start getting better again.

They fight crime like normal, going their normal routes and working silently by each other. By the time it's time to go home, Damian's feeling more alive than he has since Two-Face beat him with the bat.

Before they can return to the manor, however, a familiar signal is lit in the sky by the police department. His father stills and Damian watches him carefully. His father has been careful to keep him out of the business that comes with that signal, even before Two-Face.

His father sighs, then gives Damian a hard look through his cowl.

"Behave," is all he says before they're on their way to the police station.

There's a man on the roof. Commissioner Jim Gordon. He gives his father a greeting, then pauses when Damian steps out besides him.

"Decided to finally introduce us?" He asks with a raised eyebrow. "Just when I thought Red Bird was off the streets for good."

Damian bristles, but his father sighs. "What do you need, Commissioner?"

"Apparently a college teacher went insane and poisoned his students with a gas that made them see their deepest fears. Professor Jonathan Crane. It sounds like something you'd handle quicker, and I can get you the files we have on him after you explain to me why you're still letting a child run around in tights. Especially after you told me he was quote un-quote, 'alive but out of commission'."

"I don't see why it's your business," Damian hisses before he can stop himself.

"Red Bird," Batman scolds, and Damian falls quiet.

His father looks at the Commissioner with a hard look. "He's my responsibility, and I will look after him."

"There were rumors he died, Batman," Gordon argues back. "Two-Face bragged about it all the way to Arkham. He had blood on his face."

His father stiffens his jaw, then says through gritted teeth. "I will never allow something like that to happen ever again. If you want my word, I will give it in saying if anyone like Two-Face tries to hurt him like that again, I will make sure they regret the thought before it can happen. Red Bird will continue to be with me where I can watch him, and you will respect that. Trust me, it's safer for all of us this way."

He looks down at Damian, then almost smiles.

"He will sneak out himself anyways, eventually. Or I won't hear the end of it from a mutual acquaintance."

Damian finds himself smiling back. It seems getting on the good side of Alfred was a good decision on his part. And he's right in the former statement as well. Damian is sure he'd eventually get bored enough of being left behind and go out to prove himself without permission. Red Bird... It's too good to give up. He can't lose it.

It's like a staring contest between Gordon and his father for what feels like an entire minute, but eventually Gordon gives up with a sigh.

"Don't know how you do it. The wife's starting to talk about having a kid... I can't imagine a little one of mine running around doing the things I do, let alone what you do."

He brings a cigarette to his mouth, then pulls out a file with his free hand. "Take the case."

Batman steps up to do as was told, but before Gordon let's go, he gives his father a hard look.

"You better keep your word," he growls, "because if anything happens again to that kid, I'm holding you responsible and I'll bring you in for child endangerment myself."

Batman nods. "I'm counting on it."

-o-o-o-o-

Eventually, the topic of school comes up again.

Which of course brings up the topic that no one actually knows about Bruce Wayne's son. Damian's been kept a secret this entire time, unknown to the public.

"We'll tell them that your mother and I met at the end of highschool, and we have kept you a secret ever since. Due to your mother's weakening health, we decided it would be best for your future to have your custody turned over to me and the mother wishes to remain private. Then, we can-"

"Wait," Damian interrupts. "You're going to let me go to school?"

His father pauses in his verbal plans, then nods.

And suddenly, Damians jumping from his chair with joy, wrapping his arms around his father's neck without thinking about it. However, the second he realizes his action, he attempts to scramble away with horror. He's never hugged his father before. But things have been so good, civil even, to the point where they can be in the same room and have conversations about the weather or the recent sports game or even about a new cartoon Damian found on TV.

But they never hugged.

Afraid he's pressed boundaries, he pushes away, but he doesn't go far before a hand wraps around his shoulder. Damians left halfway on his father's lap where he sits, looking at him with anxiety churning in his stomach and an unreadable expression on his father's face.

Then, gently, Damian's pulled back in so now arms are wrapping around his back. His father's hugs are soft and warm, Damians learns. The opposite of how he fights. Yet he feels so safe and protected that he doesn't resist the action.

"This is really happening," his father says in a whisper. "I have a son. I'm really a dad now. I... I promise I will be better for you. From now on. I'm sorry for how I treated you... In the beginning. I was scared. It's no excuse, but I promise you, I will be better."

And he is. They get ice cream after and then watch a movie before going out as Batman and Red Bird.

Time passes so Damian starts school and makes friends. He meets Clark Kent and his son, Jon, and makes a best friend. He grows older, and happier, to the point he no longer misses the League of Assassins. To the point when his mother does finally return to see him, saying the danger has passed...

Damian tells her he wishes to stay with his father. She smiles, and hugs him, and says that she's proud of him. She promises to visit him as often as she can after they share a good cry.

She leaves, and visits, and time moves on a little more.

Until one day, years later, they notice a kid with a camera following them around and taking pictures. Then, the same kid admits to knowing about their civilian identities when confronted.

His father searches the kid up when they get back to the manor, and after some digging it's revealed his name is Tim Drake and his parents are neglectful and strict.

Damian sees the same look in his father's eyes as when he first told the public he had a son named Damian Wayne, and he gets the feeling the manor is about to get a little more crowded.

This, he thinks, is about to get interesting. It's been awhile since life threw a curve ball. He just didn't expect this one to come in the form of a little brother.

And life goes on.

[adifferenttime]

Andrew Ryan vs. Robert House

On almost every House post I make, someone in the notes will reliably reference Andrew Ryan. I totally get it - they look similar, they're based on the same guy, the parallels are so clear that the NV dev team added an achievement for killing House with a golf club - but I think these commonalities tend to engulf both characters, blotting out some of their more interesting ideological/personal differences. It's useful to examine them in relation to one another, but part of that is figuring out what distinguishes them, which is just what I’ve attempted to do.

It's difficult for me to talk about Randian objectivism because I don't think it's sound enough to address on its own terms, but considering this is the philosophy Andrew Ryan has adopted, I kind of have to. What I’d identify as the core premise of Randian ethics is this: altruism is a moral wrong. Some Randians have argued that isn't really what they believe - that the real point is anything resembling altruism is self-interest in disguise - but they're departing from the beliefs of their icon when they make those claims. Per Rand:

The irreducible primary of altruism, the basic absolute is self-sacrifice – which means self-immolation, self-abnegation, self-denial, self-destruction – which means the self as a standard of evil, the selfless as a standard of the good.

The way Rand defines altruism is by linking it to self-sacrifice, which she uses to differentiate it from kindness or benevolence. Aiding others at no cost to yourself is benevolent, but not altruistic, and therefore not evil. Sacrificing your happiness to help another human being is, from Rand's perspective, evil, as is any philosophy that prioritizes the other at the cost of the self. This whole idea has been broadly rejected by most scholars on account of it being really fucking stupid. What justifies the leap from "man is naturally selfish" to "selfishness is good"? If selfishness is moral, wouldn't the most moral behavior be to exploit others through whatever means necessary, favoring force over the market? Rand defines happiness as "using your mind’s fullest power," achievable only when you "do not consider the pleasure of others as the goal," but why is this the only definition? What if your only options are self-sacrificial in nature? How do you weigh them if neither sacrifice is linked to values, individual achievement, or "your mind's fullest power" at all? Rand didn't care because she was too busy trying to ethically justify cheating on her man with her best friend's husband, but nonetheless, this is the philosophy Andrew Ryan’s adopted. He claims that "Altruism is the root of all Wickedness," in what's almost a direct quote from Rand herself.

To that end, Ryan builds a system that doesn’t just accept selfishness but actively incentivizes it. Every other principle he expresses is subservient to the ideas that selfishness rules man, and that for Ryan to act on his own selfish impulses is the highest good in the world. His lesser political principles (individual liberties, negative rights, the creation of a stateless society) don’t matter to him as much as the central precept from which they stem: that selfishness is his moral imperative.

What is the greatest lie every created? What is the most vicious obscenity ever perpetrated on mankind? Slavery? The Holocaust? Dictatorship? No. It's the tool with which all that wickedness is built: altruism.

It doesn't come as a particular surprise to me when he starts imprisoning dissidents or executing rivals or banning theft (standard practice in most societies, but not what an egoist would pursue; if you can get away with taking it, you deserve to have it, or so the thinking goes). I’ve seen him described as a hypocrite, but I don’t think that’s necessarily true considering everything he does is in line with his opposition to altruism. He'll adhere to his other principles only if they don’t sabotage his pursuit of personal power. This is evident in the fact that he only adopts a negative perception of Fontaine when his own interests are threatened, but doesn’t give two shits what Fontaine might be doing to sow conflict and harm people before that point. A guy named Gregory asks Ryan to step in against Fontaine early on before Fontaine's fully established himself as a threat to Ryan's power, and Ryan's extremely blase about it.

Don't expect me to punish citizens for showing a little initiative. If you don't like what Fontaine is doing, well, I suggest you find a way to offer a better product.

Contrast this with how he reacts when Fontaine has risen as a genuine business rival. This is from the log titled "Fontaine Must Go."

Something must be done about Fontaine. While I was buying buildings and fish futures, he was cornering the market on genotypes and nucleotide sequences. Rapture is transforming before my eyes. The Great Chain is pulling away from me.

This double standard is the natural outgrowth of his prioritization of self-interest. If your most deeply-held belief is that you should never give up your interests for others, ancillary rules become flexible in times of personal crisis, and Bioshock makes the case that putting someone like that in charge of a city will leave you with a crumbling, monstrous ruin.

Superficially, House has some similarities. Ryan executes political rivals; House has you blow up a bunker of his ideological opponents. Ryan is the highest authority in Rapture; House is the absolute monarch of Vegas. Their goals and moral codes, though, are almost diametrically opposed. When you ask House why you’re expected to trust him when he’s openly admitting to installing himself as the despot of the New Vegas Strip, he says this:

I have no interest in abusing others... Nor have I any interest in being worshipped as some kind of machine-god messiah. I am impervious to such corrupting ambitions.

Most of his resources are devoted to large-scale, impersonal projects, aimed either at building the power of Vegas or securing his long term goal of “progress” as he sees it. He’s rejected selfishness as a moral good because House is very far from Randian objectivism. He's a Hobbesian monarch.

In that respect, he shares an outlook on human nature with Ryan that I deeply disagree with (that human beings are essentially selfish), but in terms of what that means for the structure of a utopian society, House takes a very different position. From his perspective, human nature breeds suffering, not industriousness, and the only way to stamp out conflict - and, in a post-nuclear age, ensure the continued survival of the human race - is through a strong sovereign. The purpose of a state as laid out in Leviathan aligns very, very closely with the one House expresses.

...the foresight of their own preservation, and of a more contented life thereby; that is to say, of getting themselves out from that miserable condition of war which is necessarily consequent, as hath been shown, to the natural passions of men...

The monarch's successes are reflected in his society and the well-being of humanity as a whole. To subvert his goals is to subvert society's goals, and to doom humanity to the war, death, and suffering that exist in a state of nature. When you destroy his Securitrons/kill him, he doesn't plead for himself or get offended on his own behalf. He accuses you of betraying not him, but mankind.

Single-handedly, you've brought mankind's best hopes of forward progress crashing down. No punishment would be too severe. Fool... to let... personalities... derail future... of mankind? ...Stupid! Slavery... the future of... mankind? What... have you... done?

An important corollary of this idea which again distinguishes House from Ryan appears in Leviathan’s description of the political/moral responsibility of a monarch to his subjects:

...that great Leviathan, or rather, to speak more reverently, of that mortal god to which we owe, under the immortal God, our peace and defence. For by this authority... he hath the use of so much power that, by terror thereof, he is enabled to form the wills of them all, to peace at home, and mutual aid against their enemies abroad.

Hobbes and House give the monarch virtually unlimited power but match it to the monarch's duty, which he lives to fulfill. His obligation is to speak for the people, act for them, and protect them from all threats, internal and external. House generally abides by this, orienting his decisions around his goals for society irrespective of the personal cost (the negative consequences of his actions are a product of his fucked evaluations of what’s best for society, not personal greed). It’s not just a departure from Ryan’s philosophy but a complete refutation of it. He's almost died for what he's misidentified as the greatest good.

Given that I had to make do with buggy software, the outcome could have been worse. I nearly died as it was…. I spent the next few decades in a veritable coma.

This is not the behavior of an egoist. This is the behavior of an extremely arrogant but marginally altruistic (from a Randian perspective lmao) guy. This is some distorted “from each according to his ability” shit if you’ve managed to convince yourself your abilities exceed those of everyone else who has ever lived and that you can get the Mandate of Heaven by being really good at statistics.

The reason these guys develop such similar structures and hierarchies despite the ideological gulfs between them is because both of them are elitists who’ve experienced a massive failure of self-consciousness. They’re unable to conceive of other people as being fundamentally like them. Ryan separates people into the clearly-delineated classes of “producer” and “parasite,” ignoring the fact that everything he’s ever “produced” was reliant on a huge, coordinated effort between workers, architects, accountants, middlemen, and others, all of whom, in conjunction, contributed more to the realization of his dreams that he ever could have alone. Rather than realizing his own position is more parasitic and reliant on other people’s labor than that of anyone else in Rapture, he adheres to his doctrine of selfishness even when it’s not reflective of reality and is ruining the the lives of an entire city of people. He deludes himself into believing he’s a superman among ants instead of one flawed man who is reliant on the goodwill of others to help him survive, as are we all.

House, too, thinks he’s exceptional. Unlike Ryan, he acknowledges the necessity of the worker to a functioning society, but while he’ll accept his reliance on that labor, he doesn’t trust the laborer enough to share political power. House knows he’s invested in humanity’s survival and the creation of a better world, but he refuses to consider that he might not be alone in this goal. He chalks up the existence of the Legion to fanaticism/the ambitions of a sultanistic dictator and attributes everything the NCR has done to greed, without it ever occurring to him that the massive harm these nations have done was partially motivated by the same goals he’s devoted himself to - and that the atrocities he’s committed since his rise to power are, in some respects, very similar. House knows himself to be invested in the well-being of humanity, but he’s too arrogant to ask himself if his methods are wrong or trust other people to build a new path, one that doesn’t necessitate his complete control over the land and people of the Mojave. Ryan and House’s worldviews are distinct, and their flaws, as highlighted by their respective narratives, say some interesting things about how each set of devs view power and the pitfalls of elitism.

Anyway. If you put these two men in a room, they would probably try to murder each other, and I think that’s great.