#but i am saying i think it would be good for child welfare

[tanadrin]

[epistemic status: a bunch of semi-related thoughts I am trying to work out aloud] It has been noted countless times that reactionary politics rely on a feeling of threat: our enemies are strong and we are weak (but we are virtuous and they are not, which is why they’re our enemies!); we must defend ourselves, we must not be afraid of doing what needs to be done; we must not shie away from power generally, and violence specifically.

And there are lots of contexts--like when talking about the appeal of reactionary politics in the US before and at the beginning of Trump’s rise to prominence, or when talking about hard-on-crime policies that are a springboard to police militarization, or (the central example of all this in the 21st century) the post 9/11 PATRIOT-act terrorism paranoia that was a boon to authoritarians everywhere, and spurred a massive expansion of both control and surveillance in everyday life--where critics of reactionary rhetoric are chastised for their failure to appeal to the other side, because they come off as callous towards their concerns and their real fears and anxieties.

And while this might not be strategically correct, frankly, I think there’s a sense in which it is justified to be callous towards those concerns. Because those concerns are lies. They may be lies borne out of a seed of real experience (9/11 did happen, of course), but the way that seed is cultivated by focused paranoia, by contempt toward cultivating any sense of proportionality or any honest comparison of risk, the way it is dragooned into the service of completely orthogonal political goals (”the CIA/NSA/FBI must be able to monitor all private communications everywhere in the world, just in case it might prevent another 9/11″) chokes off any possible sympathy I might otherwise feel. American paranoia about another couple thousand lives being lost in a 9/11 like event resulted in a number of deaths literally multiple orders of magnitude larger in Iraq and Afghanistan. During the former, some years Iraq was suffering the equivalent of six or seven 9/11s a year.

So, any fear-driven policy must not (for example) say “to prevent disaster X happening again, we’re going to make it happen 270 times over to someone else.” That’s not reasonable. And “fear is a bad basis for crafting policy” is not exactly a revolutionary observation. There’s that probably-apocryphal story of a Chinese professor responding to Blackstone’s Ratio--you know, “better that ten guilty persons go free than one innocent person suffer”--with “better for whom?” Which is supposed to be this trenchant and penetrating question that makes you reexamine your assumptions. But it’s always struck me as idiotic. Better for society! For everyone! Because the law only functions well if it is seen as a source of order and justice, not as an authoritarian cudgel; because a society in which anxiety drives policymaking and legal responses to social ills is one that is in the process of actively devouring itself; because flooding the public discourse with language that dehumanizes criminals and makes it easy to separate the individual from universal principles like civil rights is an acid that destroys the social fabric.

Fear as a germ of reactionary politics manifests itself in lots of ways outside of both historical examples, like fascism, or more recent examples, like US foreign policy during the war on terror. Fear and its link to purity-attitudes, with a low level of scientific literacy in general, drives stuff like the organized anti-vaccine movement. In the Hertzsprung-Russel diagram of political tendencies, I’d argue it’s a big factor in the wellness-to-Qanon track. It’s a big part of tough-on-crime rhetoric, which in the American instance in particular also draws on an especially racialized form (cf. the “Willie Horton” ad). Fear and purity and anti-contamination anxieties are even big in opposition to nuclear power, because most of the public just has a really bad sense of what the comparative dangers of nuclear vs fossil fuel are; and because the former has been culturally salient since 1945 in a way the latter hasn’t, nuclear contamination feels much more threatening than fossil fuel waste, despite by any measurable harm the latter causing far worse problems, even before you factor in any risks from climate change.

I would like to argue in particular that true crime as an entertainment genre, and wellness culture, and fears about child abuse all contribute to reactionary politics--they are in themselves major reactionary political currents--in a way that cuts across the political spectrum because they are not strongly marked for political factionalism. A lot of the rhetoric both from and around true crime entertainment promotes the idea that violent crime exists, or at least can flourish, because of an insufficiently punitive attitude toward crime; one that can only be fixed by centering victims’ desire (or putative desire) for retribution in the legal process, by eroding the civil rights of the accused, and by giving the police and prosecutors more power. Obviously, this is just 80s and 90s tough on crime rhetoric repackaged for millennials; it centers individual experience a bit more and deemphasizes the racial component that made the “Willie Horton” ad so successful, but it posits that there is only one cause for crime, a spontaneous choice by criminals that has no causal relationship with the rest of the world, and only one solution, which is authoritarianism.

Wellness culture leverages purity concerns and scientific illiteracy in ways which are so grifty and so transparently stupid that it’s by far the least interesting thing on this list to me; its most direct harm is in giving an environment for the anti-vaccine movement to flourish, and I’m always incredibly annoyed when people talk about how the medical establishment needs to do more to reassure the public about vaccines’ safety and efficacy. Again, strategically, this may be correct; people dying of preventable disease is really bad. But doctors as a body didn’t promote Andrew Wakefield’s nonsense; doctors as a body didn’t run breathless article after breathless article about vaccines maybe causing autism; doctors as a body didn’t scare the bejezus out of folks in the 90s and then act all surprised when preventable childhood diseases started breaking out all over the place.

Although outside the whole anti-vax thing, I think there are lots of other harms that wellness culture creates. It tends to be fairly antiscientific; in order to sell people nonsense (because as a subculture it exists almost exclusively to sell people things) it has to discredit anything that might point out that it is selling nonsense. Whether the anti-intellectualism that flourishes in these quarters is a result of intentional deceit or just a kind of natural rhetorical evolution probably varies. But it is an important component of wellness culture to be able to play a shell game between “big pharma doesn’t have your best interests at heart,” “you don’t need your anti-depressants,” and “laetrile cures cancer.”

The way in which fears of child abuse are turned into a reactionary political cudgel probably actually annoys me the most; whether it’s Wayfair conspiracy theories, conservatives trying to turn “groomer” into an anti-queer slur, or just antis on tumblr, the portrayal of sadistic sexual threat aimed at children from an outside malevolent force is compelling only because the vast majority of child abuse and CSA comes from within families and within culturally privileged structures of authority like churches, and this fact makes everyone really uncomfortable, and no one wants to talk about it. I remember getting really annoyed during the Obama years when the White House wanted to talk about bullying and anti-LGBT bullying in particular, while studiously avoiding blaming parents and teachers in any way for it, despite the fact that all the coming out horror stories I know are from people’s parents turning on them.

Now, very conservative politics have always opposed dilution of a kind of privilege for the family structure; they envision a family structure which is patriarchal, and so dilution of this privilege is dilution of the status of patriarch. Very insular communities which cannot survive their members having many options or alternative viewpoints available to them, including controlling religions but also just abusive parents who want to retain control over their kids, also bristle at the idea of any kind of general society-wide capacity for people to notice how parents treat their children. But beyond that, I think our society still treats parents as having a right of possession over their children and their children’s identities, especially when they’re young, and bolsters that idea with an idea that the purity of children is constantly under threat from the outside world, and it is the parents’ job to safeguard that purity. The result is the nuclear family as a kind of sacred structure which the rest of society has no right to observe or pry open; and this is a massive engine of enabling the abuse of children. To no other relationship in our society do we apply this idea, that it should be free from “interference” (read: basic accountability) from the rest of society.

Moreover, the idea of childhood as a time of purity and innocence, which not only must be protected from but during which children must be actively lied to about major aspects of how the world works, is one of the last ways remaining to an increasingly secular culture to justify censorious and puritanical Victorian morality. It is hard to advocate for censorship to protect the Morals of the Christian Public, when nobody believes in the Morals of the Christian Public anymore; but “think of the children!” still works as a rallying cry, because of this nagging sense we have that age-appropriate conversations with children about adult topics will cause them to melt or explode.

In many ways, these anxieties on behalf of theoretical children are the ones I am most contemptuous of. Not because child abuse isn’t a serious problem--it is--but because the vector imagined for it is almost entirely opposite the one it actually tends to occur along. People who pretend that the primary danger to children is from strangers are usually woefully misinformed; people who pretend it is from media are either idiots or liars seeking a cover for their craving for censorship.

In conclusion: while it’s not possible to exorcise all our neuroses from our politics, anymore than we will ever exercise all our neuroses from our aesthetics, there are some we should be especially on guard against. A sense of threat, and anxieties which tie into concerns about purity and fears of contamination, are two big ones. These produce policies that are not only badly correlated with the outcomes they ostensibly want, but actually and severely destructive to them, in the same way that invading Iraq was actively destructive to any notion of preventing terrorism, saving American or Iraqi lives, or promoting political stability in the Middle East. And we should hold in healthy suspicion anybody whose politics seem to be driven by similar neuroses. Some merely believe very harmful things. Some are actually actively deceptive. None will achieve any of the higher aims they claim as justification for their beliefs.

[thissying]

"A wunderkind," said Niki Lauda when Limburger Max Verstappen (18) won his first Grand Prix in Spain on Sunday. Her wunderkind, thought Sophie Kumpen (41), at home in Maaseik in front of the television. Two hours later the phone rang: "Wow. Mom. Actually unbelievable, huh."

21 May, 2016

Sophie was at home on Sunday when it happened. All alone, on a chair, in front of the television. "I've been in the pit box at enough races to know: I actually prefer to watch in the living room. You can't see it better anywhere else than on television. I have a fixed ritual for it. A candle on the table. Smartphone in hand. And that chair." (points to one of the dining room chairs)

"Of course, if I had known in advance that Max would win his first Grand Prix, I would have gone along. During those last two corners I was sitting in my chair cheering. When Max crossed the finish line, I cried. I didn't even cry at his birth. They were tears of relief, I think. He was finally able to show what I always knew he could do."

What role does genetics play? So far unclear. But this much is certain: if Max drove the competition away on Sunday - and was also a bit lucky with two top drivers dropping out - it was mainly a matter of years of training. "Max has been working towards this for fourteen years. He was four when he started karting. Jos and I practically lived on the circuit at that time. People sometimes think that we pushed Max. That's not true. It came from him. Once that happened, there was no stopping him. And honestly? I understand that. It was the same for me. That kick. That adrenaline. That quickly becomes addictive."

Sophie once lived in the same world as Max does today. She was successful in karting, and Jos had made it in F1. The couple lived in Monaco and bathed in wealth. But the divorce, in 2006, turned that life upside down. Max was eight, his sister Victoria six. It was decided: Max would stay with Jos, Victoria with Sophie. And while Jos focused on his son's career, Sophie looked for a job in Maaseik.

"A very difficult time," says Sophie. "I didn't see Max a lot then. He quickly started to achieve international success and he was abroad a lot with his father. I found that incredibly difficult. But I also knew: if we really wanted to pursue Max's big dream, he would be better off with Jos. I had to flip a switch for that. There were many nights when I lay in bed crying. Out of sadness, for the child I missed so much. I really had to let go of Max. I was often very afraid that I would lose him. Now that he is eighteen, I have the feeling that all that is changing. He visits me more often, shows up unexpectedly at the door more often. 'Mum, let's go shopping in Hasselt.' Max recently had to get his driver's license. He had to drive for a few days with a supervisor. He said: 'I want to do that with you, mum.' I am increasingly getting my place as a mum back. That feels really good."

"The contact with Jos is finally better again, too. Everything has fallen into place: Jos has remarried and I am also doing well. When Max won on Sunday, Jos called me from Barcelona. However, we hardly ever call each other. But at a moment like that you know: this is our child. And then it is nice to be able to share that emotion with each other and to be able to cry together. I am glad we had that phone call. It felt good to be able to do that. For Max as well."

"After the divorce, I started working for the OCMW [social welfare centre]. I believe that things in life happen for a reason. I see a lot of poverty. I see the underclass of society. I think it's good that I can show Max that. We talk about it. I want him to know that there is another world than his. That's good to keep his feet on the ground. As a mother, I'm sometimes afraid that he'll start to float. I think it's my job to prevent that. I often say: 'Max, don't get too big for your boots, boy. Be nice to people, be nice to the fans. If there are twenty fans, don't sign five, but twenty autographs.' Max knows that, how important that is. And he does that with a smile. Deep down he is very down to earth. Max is a very down-to-earth guy, actually. He now has a Swedish girlfriend - someone who also races. When those two visit: it is really very relaxed. Something to eat, a game of cards, a chat. Max really likes 'normal'. He recently got a sponsorship contract with Puma. He said: 'Mum, then I'll get a new pair of shoes!' I thought that was nice of him. That he could be as happy as a child with a new pair of shoes."

It's been a madhouse since Sunday. Both in Monaco and in Maaseik. "Even I've been overwhelmed all week. I've received 1,500 Facebook requests. The phone didn't stop ringing. Journalists called from America. It really can stop now. Just because Max has won once, doesn't mean he'll keep winning. We all have to stay level-headed about that. Things have been going really well for Max for a year and a half now. There will be a dip at some point. We better prepare for that. I always impress that on Max. 'Think carefully and enjoy it, because it could all be over tomorrow.' He then says: 'Yes, mum, I know.'"

It can never end more suddenly than with a crash. Last year Max came close to that. It happened in Monaco. His car: straight into the tire barrier. Sophie was watching. "I remember thinking: please, get out of that car. And he did get out of that car - unharmed. Maybe that won't happen one day. Or he will be seriously injured. From the moment your child puts on a helmet, you know that it can go wrong. Look at Jules Bianchi, last year. That crash was so hard that he was brain dead. They had to pull the plug. We talk about that. What if something like that ever happens to Max? At least we'll know that it happened while he was doing what he loved to do."

"When I light candles, that is why. So that everything goes well. But you do take into account that it could be different every time. I find the start especially difficult. After two or three laps that improves. When they're all driving behind each other. Should I tell Max that he's not allowed to race? That wouldn't be fair. I've done circuits myself. So who am I to stop my son? Fortunately I know: Formula 1 has become increasingly safer in recent years. Less and less can go wrong."

Sophie - an interior designer by education - was 21 when she said goodbye to top-level sport. "Jos and I saw each other so little that I chose my marriage . Now I sometimes think: 'What if?' When I chose Jos, I said 'no' to a top offer from Formula Opel Lotus. What if I had said 'yes'? I was good at the time. Although I also know: then I wouldn't have had Max and Victoria. The dream that I had to put aside myself, Max is now realizing in my place. That feels good. The sacrifices were not in vain. Because sacrifices: we all made them. Victoria too. Our whole life has been about Max. Sometimes I feel bad for Victoria. I can feel quite guilty about that. It must not have always been easy for Victoria to stand in the shadow of her brother. My daughter works in haircare now. Two weeks ago she put highlights on me. She is one of the best in her class. I am incredibly proud of her - just as proud as I am of Max. But sometimes it gnaws at me: Victoria was very good at karting as a child. What if Jos had invested as much in her as in Max? She could have gone very far, because I think she is better than me. I would have thought it was fantastic. If a woman does well in motorsport, that is still more impressive than when a man does it. Only, it turned out differently. And now that she is sixteen, it doesn't have to be that way for her anymore. She is happy the way she is. People often ask her why she is not like her brother. But then I think: let her be herself."

"Especially now that Max is getting older, he realizes those things. He knows that his sister sacrificed everything for him. They get along very well. Max will always take care of Victoria - a mother senses those things. They once made an appointment, laughing. Victoria had wanted a Louis Vuitton handbag for a long time. 'But I won't get one from mom,' she had told Max. And so Max said: 'When I score my first points in F1, you'll get one.' The day Max scored those points, he took Victoria into Düsseldorf. They bought the bag together. Victoria has been lugging her Vuitton everywhere ever since. That makes Max happy, I can see that. The bag has emotional value for him too: it symbolizes those first points."

She: employee at the OCMW. Her son: 'rising star' in Monaco. "Does Max earn a lot of money? A lot, yes. But he has a manager, who helps him manage that. That's good. Max recently missed his plane. He immediately booked a new ticket. I, with my salary, wouldn't be able to do that. But I'm glad he can, and still manages to be careful with his money. On Mother's Day, he suddenly showed up at the door. He had a surprise. He knew I was looking for a new small car. He took me to the dealership that day and bought me a car. He said: 'Mum, for everything you've done for me.' I can see him doing that for his sister someday. She recently wanted to see him drive in Bahrain. Then he said: 'Your ticket is ready, sister.' It's nice that he does that. He doesn't have to. But it's his way of giving something back." On Thursday, Max was on Belgian soil for 24 hours: the moment when Sophie could finally hold him. "I asked: Max, you're coming, aren't you? He said: 'Of course, mom. Will you cook me something nice?' I made carpaccio, a salad and some pasta. And for dessert: his guilty pleasure. Top sports always means dieting, but what is one Kinder chocolate? There are always some in the cupboard for him."

Next week Max faces his next challenge: the Monaco Grand Prix. Sophie is going to watch and is bringing a few family members along - motorsport is in the Kumpens' blood, Sophie is the niece of racer Anthony Kumpen. "Max sets the bar high. He crashed in Monaco last year. There was criticism about that. 'Wasn't he too young?' He thinks he has something to prove now. And I know: he doesn't necessarily need his mother for that. But I do enjoy being there for him."

"And. Uh. It gives me the chance to also go and see his apartment. I decorated it at the time. Going to have a look. Whether that young man of eighteen hasn't made a mess of it." (laughs)

[dracowars]

of kings and queens | halbrand

pairing: halbrand x númenorean!princess!reader

word count: 6,6k

summary: where halbrand and y/n are forced to marry and he unveils a world she's only ever dreamed of

a/n: how do i manage to make it longer every time you ask?? i have no idea, i just go with the flow & suddenly i'm at 6k~ i have been struggeling with this one but i'm proud of how it ultimately turned out!! feedback is always appreciated and thank you for all the love <3

warnings: angst, forced marriage, panic attack, mentions of sickness, soft sauron

universe: the rings of power

"I won't marry a stranger!", you loudly cry out in anger and slam your fists on the table with all your might, the sheer force of it causing some of the parchments to fall to the marble floor.

"He is no stranger. He is the King of the Southlands", your sister, Queen-Regent Míriel, tells you matter-of-factly.

"Who told you that? The elf?", you spit out, the blood running through your veins seething with anger. "Just a few days have gone by since he was detained in one of our cells, and now he is being hailed as a long-lost king? Do you even listen to yourself?"

"Sister-"

"Don't 'sister' me right now."

Míriel takes a deep breath, resting her weight on the table with both arms, and lowers her head as if she needs a moment to avoid lashing out on you in the same manner you are currently displaying.

"Listen. A marriage like this would rekindle and strengthen the bond between the people of Middle-earth and our kind for generations to come", she explains, her voice calm, but you know her well enough to notice that she has to pull herself together.

"Very well, go ahead and marry him then", you counter and give her a challenging look, the one you have been giving her since you were children. "Why should I be the one to suffer?"

"As the Princess of Númenor, it is your duty to prioritize the welfare of your people over your own!", she yells at you now, her nostrils flaring. You'd be lying if you said you didn't flinch a little when she raised her voice. Usually, it takes longer to unsettle her.

Elendil, who is standing at the large doors to the room, also seems a little shocked. As the two exchange a tender look, however, Míriel's features relax again and she straightens up, slipping back into the role of the wise, majestic Queen-Regent of Númenor.

"I won't accept no for an answer", she tells you, all calm and collected again. No trace left of your loving sister whom you loved so much.

"You have held me captive within these castle's walls for longer than I know and now you wish to ship me off like that?", you scoff in disbelief, crossing your arms in front of your chest, trying to mask how much she's hurting you right now.

"You wanted freedom. Here I am granting it to you."

"This is not freedom", you express your words through gritted teeth, your eyes burning with tears as your words have no effect on Míriel. "You think you can still control me like a child. But you no longer hold any power over me. I won't let you dictate the course of my life."

To emphasize your point, you grab the unassuming tiara adorning your head, smaller and thus in stark contrast to your sister's, and forcefully hurl it to her feet. Several small diamonds come loose and the sound of them scattering around the marble floor makes you shiver.

"I don't care who he is", you say angrily, your hands clenched into fists at your sides while Míriel only looks at you in shock, her eyes wide. "I won't marry someone I don't know, let alone love."

With these final words, you turn away and walk towards the door, which Elendil quickly opens for you. On his face, you clearly see that he feels sorry about how this whole situation expired. But you don't need his pity.

You stomp out angrily, holding back your tears, your pulse pounding in your ears. You have never told her what you think before. You have always done what she asked of you, been a good little sister because you can only imagine the burden she is carrying. But today she has crossed a line.

When you turn around in the hallway one last time, catching a glimpse of Míriel through the closing door, you see Elendil carefully approaching her to comfort her. From this perspective, she looks exhausted, hurt even. But all you feel towards her is anger. You can't help but roll your eyes and release a heavy breath of air from your lungs.

Undoubtedly, that is the reason why she wants you to marry Lord Halbrand. Because her heart is already taken.

You think back to times when you would have been overjoyed, when you would have been genuinely happy for her. You two would have lain on soft pillows and talked about everything, every little detail. Now, you can find none of these feelings inside of you.

Completely lost in your thoughts, you walk through the large halls of the castle, your home. A home that feels much more like a prison. With your head low, you turn a corner and suddenly collide with a hard wall. Caught off guard, you stumble back until a hand closes around your wrist and holds you tight.

You forget to breathe for a moment when your gaze meets his.

"Whoa there. Where are you headed, my lady?", Lord Halbrand asks you in surprise, a gentle smile on his face as he holds you close, his touch on your skin burning. As soon as you notice this, you break free from his grip and take your distance, smoothing down your dress, which he only comments on with a frown.

He is the last person you want to talk to right now.

"Are you all right?", he asks you with concern in his voice, making you realize that you haven't given him an answer and just stood there in silence. In fact, you don't really have anything to say to him. You just wish he would go back to Middle-earth where he belongs.

"Yes", you finally answer, coldly and curtly. "Now if you'll excuse me."

You walk past him, your shoulders almost touching, and listen to your own loud footsteps echoing through the halls as you walk down the corridor.

"Your demeanour leads me to believe that the Queen-Regent informed you of our plans", his voice calls after you, suddenly bringing you to an abrupt halt.

Our plans? That means they have been talking about this behind your back for who knows how long. You were deemed to lose from the beginning. As always.

"She did", you say, slowly turning around and towards him. He hasn't moved from the spot where you left him moments ago, but his presence fills the entire hallway anyway.

The way he stands there and looks at you, as if you were fragile and pitiable, makes the anger inside of you boil up once more and you walk towards him. Instead of taking a step back, however, he takes one towards you so that he is now towering over you with all his height.

"Listen to my words: I don't know what exactly you hope to achieve with this.. marriage. But it will never happen. I will not marry you", you tell him clearly, emphasizing the last words by poking your index finger into his chest. You don't give him time to answer, but as you turn around you notice the knowing grin that plays around his lips.

You decide not to respond to this and move away from him entirely. As soon as you turn into the next corridor, you finally feel like you can breathe again. At least as much as is possible for you within these walls.

You haven't been able to breathe properly in here for a long time.

You walk to your room, two guards posted on either side of the massive doors, and let yourself through without a word. Once inside, you find your way directly to the balcony, which overlooks the entire city and the harbour. The wind blows through your hair and creates a sad smile on your lips. From up here, you can hear nothing but the wind, the people frolicking down there nothing more than tiny black dots. A single tear finds its way down your cheek and you don't bother to wipe it away. Rather, you are amazed that you can even cry at all after all the tears you have already shed here.

You don't know if it is at that moment, or before, when you threw your crown at Míriel's feet, but you make a decision.

With a goal in mind, you go back inside, into the huge room you call your own and search through several closets until you find what you are looking for. You swap your beautifully ornamented dress for a more simple one, get rid of all your jewelry and put your hair into a casual updo. On the way to the door, your own reflection briefly looks back at you from the mirror across the room and you pause as you look at yourself.

Nothing is left of the little girl who once had dreams and pursued goals.

Taking another deep breath, you open the door and step out. The guards bow, as they always do when they see you.

"I'm going to pay a visit to my father", you explain to them, which they confirm with a short nod. They are about to follow you, but seem to remember that you are now allowed to walk around without guards constantly at your side, at least within the castle's walls. A change that hasn't been in effect for very long.

Nevertheless, you quicken your pace once you are out of their reach, afraid that they will decide to follow you after all. On your way, you make sure to avoid the maids and other guards, hiding behind corners, holding your breath. When you finally arrive at the stairs to the tower that lead up to your father, you stop hesitantly. But it only takes a moment, remembering your conversation with Míriel and all the other terrible events of the past, for you to regain your strength and turn away. With quick steps, you take the next set of stairs that lead down.

As you arrive in corridors that lead to the kitchen and staff facilities, you pay close attention to every little noise. Your heart is pounding so hard against your chest that you feel like it can be heard echoing throughout the corridors. You put your shaking hands against the spot where your heart is and try to calm yourself down. You've never tried to break out of this prison before, you always thought you were here for your own good. But you know better now. The thought of the outside world, which you have encountered so rarely in your life, scares you beyond belief either way.

Your sister's words still roam around your mind, making you clench your fists, until you gather up all your courage. Finally, you make it out of one of the doors, out into the fresh air that greets you lovingly.

However, you have no time to linger and quickly move forward, with careful steps as not to alert anyone. As you walk, you pull a cloth out of the corset of your dress that you had previously hidden there. In one swift motion, you pull it over your head and hide your face behind the fabric, only your eyes visible now.

With these safety measures in place, you make your way to the harbour, away from the castle. The entrances for the staff are guarded, but because of your disguise they let you pass. Once you slip past them, you are immediately surprised by the number of people walking through the streets. The sun is already setting on the horizon and the warm light of lanterns illuminates the alleyways.

With a gentle smile, you watch as two children whirl around, holding dolls that they chase each other with. You follow the mass of people who probably want to celebrate the end of their day in one of the taverns. The closer you get to the center of the city, the market square, the louder and more crowded it becomes. You hear them talking, laughing with each other, arguments are being settled, some young girls dance in the middle of a crowd of people who happily watch and applaud.

Despite the positive and joyful atmosphere, you are overcome by a feeling of sadness and sorrow all of a sudden. These people are your people - and you never get to see them. They don't get to see you unless they enter the castle, and that is something only a few people are allowed to do, reserved especially for the nobles and those of higher rank. But what makes you even sadder is the fact that very few of them even care for you. You are second in line to the throne. Once your father leaves this world, Míriel will be their Queen. Accordingly, interest in you is quite low. You are not even sure they would recognize you if you took off your disguise.

The sad truth is that they wouldn't, and that hurts more than you thought. And these are the people you are supposed to give your life for.

Suddenly everything becomes too much for you. Your ears are ringing, your heart is pounding, your whole body is shaking. No matter where you look, there are crowds of people everywhere. You feel small, constricted, helpless. You are carelessly pushed to the side, shoved forward. Your feet are stepped on, no one apologizes. You try to break out of the crowd, but your head is spinning and you no longer know which direction to go. Your breathing is getting faster and louder by the second. Nobody notices, nobody shows even the slightest hint of interest in you.

When you feel your legs giving way beneath you, you are suddenly grabbed by the arm and pulled into an alley.

You are terrified when you realize that you cannot defend yourself, your body is completely frozen and does not listen to your commands. Only when you feel a gentle hand on your cheek - the cloth must have come loose in all the chaos - and look up do you let out a breath that you didn't even know you were holding in. Lord Halbrand is standing in front of you, his face painted in concern as he looks you up and down.

"What are you doing out here all alone, Princess?", he asks and quickly grabs a hold of your shoulder as you start to drift away again, your legs no longer able to hold you upright. Exhausted, you lean against the stone wall behind you and close your eyes. You don't like that he sees you like this. On the other hand, he just saved you and prevented you from fainting in the middle of a crowd.

"I.. don't know", you whisper in defeat and it takes all your strength to admit it.

"What were you even thinking?", he says quietly, more to himself than to you. It feels like he doesn't want to scold you, but on the other hand he also does want to.

You look into his eyes, his face bathed in warm light from the soft candlelight of the lanterns around you. The wounds that are covering his skin have slowly healed, but even in this dim light you still notice them. Only now, when staring at him, do you realize that he is distracting you from all the noise and hustle, faded into the background.

"Come. I'll escort you back to the castle", he finally offers, his hands still on your shoulders as if he doesn't dare let go of you, afraid that you'll drift into the darkness at any moment.

Once again, you don't react and only stare at him, making the worry on his face deepen. In the meantime, you just can't wrap your head around how a Southlander like him, a low man, who barely knows you and who you've met with nothing but hatred, is worried about you while the people around you, your kind, are far away from even remotely caring about you.

"Can you walk on your own?", he asks, and when you finally nod in agreement, he lets go of you. But not for long, because after he puts the cloth back in its place to cover your features one of his hands wraps around yours and holds it tightly in his grip as he pulls you behind him, up several steps that lead further away from the cheerful scene.

You are grateful that he doesn't ask any questions, doesn't want to know why you were out here in the first place.

"Thank you."

That makes him pause for a moment and his hand applies a little more pressure on yours. In response, he turns to you with a gentle smile and lowers his head in resignation.

For some inexplicable reason, your heart suddenly skips a beat. He doesn't seem to notice the change in your face, however, and walks on. Together you make your way through the winding streets and you are amazed at how well he already knows his way around. You have to admit that it also hurts. After just a few days he's already more familiar with this city than you are.

You can already see the entrance to the castle when Lord Halbrand halts in his step, forcing you to stop as well. Turning to you, he steps closer and lifts your hand. Then, he gently places his other hand on top of it.

"I don't know what you were doing out there", he starts, looking from your hand between his to your eyes. "But rest assured that I'll keep it to myself."

The relief you feel in that moment is indescribable. If your sister found out you had escaped, she would surely reinforce all safety measure to protect you. This feeling doesn't last long, however, when another emotion suddenly overshadows it once he continues speaking.

"A princess like you doesn't belong out here."

He may not notice it, but these words hurt you deeply and make your eyes burn with tears within seconds. Without hesitation, you snatch your hand from him and put some distance between you by taking a few steps back. Your knees still feel weak, but you don't let it show. Lord Halbrand's face meets yours with incomprehension as you do so.

"I know where I belong", you spit out angrily and straighten up. For a moment you actually thought there might be more hidden beneath his facade. Oh, how wrong you were.

With these last words, you leave him standing there and walk the last few meters to the castle without him. Once again, you sneak through the staff quarters into the castle. Although you don't want to admit it, the walls suddenly give you comfort, making you feel safe and protected.

You quickly blink away a few tears and return to your chambers, where you go straight to bed. Even though you are incredibly exhausted and drained, you don't sleep all night. You toss and turn in the sheets, your mind plagued by nightmares until you hear the birds outside singing.

════════════

Annoyed, you slam the door to your chambers shut behind you and lean against it with a huff. Then you slide down to the cold ground and pull your knees closer to you, hugging them against your body.

Once again you tried to talk to your sister. Once again she dismissed your words as if they were worthless.

And that's exactly how you feel right now: worthless. Born into a life that brings you nothing but suffering and pain.

Ever since you were born, you were the one who would never ascend the throne. Who would never rule. And you never wanted to. You would never want to be your sister. But right now, you wish that you were both just born into a normal family, with no wealth or power. At the end of the day, she is still your big sister, the one who has always watched over you. Your mother dead, your father long bedridden - she is the only family you have left.

You miss the times when everything was peaceful. Happy times long gone when two sisters were inseparable. But the years made you believe that this world is not made for anyone to be happy.

You lower your head and let the sadness wash over you like waves finally bringing down a ship, and tears stream down your cheeks. Your body shakes, but you hold back any sobs, crying in silence.

You don't know how long you sat there, alone with your thoughts, the very last tear leaving your eye, but eventually something catches your attention. Something that reflects the light from across the room, lying on your vanity table that wasn't there when you left in the morning. Slowly, you get up and walk over, only to discover a beautiful brooch on top of a small piece of parchment. The design is that of a sun and the brooch is decorated with white and blue diamonds. It's breathtaking to look at.

You glance at the black ink on the parchment and your heart involuntarily jumps once more. The words read: 'Forgive me'.

When you suddenly hear footsteps behind you, however, you don't have time to think about these words any further. In one quick movement, you take an ornate dagger out of one of the drawers and turn in the direction of the noises. What you don't expect, however, is that Lord Halbrand emerges from the shadows behind your bed.

"H-How did you get in here? Who let you in?", you ask, out of breath, your heart pounding. The dagger in your hand is still raised, even as he approaches you. He doesn't say anything, however, just stands in front of you and slowly grabs your hand, which is tightly gripping the weapon. He lowers your joined hands and carefully removes the dagger from your grip, leaning over you to gently place it on the table.

"I was uncertain if my apology would be deemed acceptable, hence I wanted to see you in person to make sure", his soft voice sounds in your ear and sends a shiver down your spine. He is definitely too close to you right now and even though you'd never admit it, it doesn't feel uncomfortable. You look straight into his shining eyes which are not quite blue and not quite green but something in the middle. You swallow because the intensity in his gaze leaves you speechless.

"Get off me", you manage to croak out, sounding anything but convincing. Lord Halbrand notices this too, a smirk playing around his lips.

"I know you don't mean that, Princess. And that, deep down, you have already forgiven me", he breathes in a deeper voice than before and brushes a strand of hair from your face. In an instant, you grab his wrist and stop him from touching you any further. Because you know exactly what his touch does to you. And you simply cannot and do not want to acknowledge that you like what he does.

So far, every encounter with him was exhilarating, thrilling, like you were finally embarking on a long-awaited adventure. He awakens feelings you have kept locked away for a long time, sealed behind thick iron bars. Brick by brick, he slowly destroys the protective walls you have built around your heart.

It scares you.

"Lord Halbrand", you say more seriously now and stare directly into his beautiful eyes while he does not even try to free himself from your grip. "Get out of this room or I will call the guards and have you removed."

At that threat, Lord Halbrand lets out a quiet chuckle and removes his hand from your tight grip with ease.

"Before long, I will become your husband. It's time for you to get used to my presence, my lady", he states and the fury that rises in your eyes at his words is unmistakable. "I am aware that this.. arrangement may not be something you look forward to, but I suggest that you begin to come to terms with it. I fear you have no choice but to agree."

"Don't do this", you plead, and even though you try your best to hide it, your body trembles and your eyes fill with tears. The realization that he is telling the truth makes you feel sick to your stomach. Not wanting him to see your obvious discomfort, you turn your head away, lowering it in the process.

The next moment, however, you are unexpectedly pulled forward and suddenly feel two strong, muscular arms around you. Lord Halbrand hugs you as if his life depended on it. You can't even remember the last time someone hugged you. Especially not like this.

The slight scent of sea salt and smoke greets you and you have to admit that his embrace makes you feel safe, comfortable even. With his arms pressing you against his firm body tenderly, he manages to stop your body from shaking and your head from spinning. Right now, it's just you and Lord Halbrand. No could-haves, no would-haves.

The fact that you are no longer averse to his proximity scares you an immeasurable amount. That is also the reason why, in the next second, you push him away with all your strength, your hands on his hard chest.

"Please, Lord Halbrand. I need you to leave", you almost beg him and when his hand clasps yours on his chest, you look up at him and suddenly feel seen. The way he looks at you is unlike anyone has ever looked at you before.

"Your wish is my command, Princess", he nods and lifts your hand to his mouth, where he places a feather-light kiss on the back of your hand before he walks back to the large doors to your chamber, not taking his eyes off you. You also watch him and wait for him to finally leave you.

"Leave out the Lord next time", is the last thing he says before he disappears.

As soon as you see the door slam shut behind him, however, you run over with quick steps. Only when you get there and reach for the door handle do you stop yourself. What has gotten into you? Overwhelmed by the emotions flowing through your body all at once, you lean your forehead against the door in defeat.

After staying there for a while and taking several deep breaths to calm your rapidly pounding heart, you walk over to the brooch that is still shining at you from the table. Carefully, you place the fragile thing in the palm of your hand and examine it when you suddenly hear a whistle.

Wondering where it came from, you step out onto your balcony and see a few ships leaving the bay in the distance. But your attention is quickly drawn to the person standing in the courtyard a few meters below, looking up at you. You don't have to look twice to know that it is Halbrand.

"Give us a chance", he calls up to you and even from this distance you can see the bright smile on his face. Then he turns around and disappears under one of the archways.

Holding the brooch tightly to your heart, you can't believe that a soft smile creeps onto your lips.

════════════

"His Lordship Halbrand has requested to see you, my lady", one of the guards announces as you step out of your chambers the next morning. The mention of his name makes your heart skip a beat and you straighten up immediately.

"Then I shouldn't keep him waiting", you reply gracefully and let the guard accompany you to the place where Halbrand wants to meet you. You wouldn't have expected this to be the inner courtyard, though. And even less that he would be waiting for you there with two saddled horses.

"I hope you had a good night's sleep, my lady", Halbrand greets you with a gentle smile and notices that your steps immediately slow down when you see him with the horses. "Rest assured, Princess. I have consulted with the Queen-Regent regarding this matter. With her approval, I am permitted to accompany you on a brief ride. If that is what you wish, of course."

You pause entirely. You can't believe he convinced your sister to let you leave the castle, and with only Halbrand as your company as well. On the other hand, you've gotten a sense of how charming and persuasive he can be in the last few days.

Smiling, he holds out the reins of a white mare that is standing calmly next to him. Still a little unsure about the whole situation, you take the reins and stroke the horse gently, but don't take your eyes off Halbrand.

"H-How?", you ask him in disbelief. You can't help but think back to how often you have begged your sister to finally let you leave the castle. The fact that she is allowing this now makes you a little suspicious, but you certainly won't question her motives if it means that you can experience freedom once more, even if only for a few hours.

"We have to be back by sunset", Halbrand winks at you and comes closer, making you take a step back instinctively. When he reaches out his hand, you realize that he just wants to help you onto the mare, so you put your hand in his. Once you feel his calloused, rough yet soft hand, a pleasant feeling flows through you and when you sit upon the mare's back, you feel like you could conquer the world. He mounts his black horse as well and together you lead the horses out of the gate.

You turn around, your eyes fixed on the castle and the guards who make no move to follow you. A sense of relief flows through your body at once. Side by side, you make it out of the city and as soon as you leave the border of the capital, you are greeted by vast meadows and fields, grass gently swaying in the wind.

It doesn't take long before you get your horses galloping over the fields. Your white mare is a little faster than his horse, but you hardly even notice. You can only concentrate on the wind blowing through your hair, letting your dress float gently behind you. The air feels liberating and you are amazed at the beauty of nature, the beauty of the island you call home but have seen so little of.

A little later you reach a white sandy beach, the waves calm, seagulls squalling in the distance. The sea suddenly smells completely different from what you are used to and you can't help but smile.

If this is what freedom feels like, you won't ever go back.

Finally, you bring your horse to a stop on the shore, scratching her head, and turn to Halbrand, who stops his stallion right in front of you. Your hair is all tousled by the wind, but Halbrand smiles at you so genuinely that your cheeks flush. Without saying a word, you hop off your mare's back and bend down to bury your hands in the sand. As Halbrand dismounts, you quickly take off your shoes, lift up the fabric of your dress a little, and wade into the shallow water, which laps warmly against your skin.

You can't remember the last time you felt the ocean. As a Númenorean, you are connected to the sea on a deeper level and it feels like, right now, it's showing you how much it's missed you, like you're reuniting with an old friend. The sun is high above you, warming your skin as you close your eyes and enjoy the moment. Then you jump around the water playfully and with so much joy you haven't felt since you were a child.

Until you meet Halbrand's gaze. He is still standing where you left him, the reins of both horses in his hand, watching you enjoy yourself with so much affection in his eyes that you want nothing more than to run to him and fall into his arms, chasing the exhilarating feeling he gave you the day before.

Shyly, you slowly walk back to him through the ankle-deep water, your dress a little wet at the bottom.

"Enjoying yourself?", he asks with a smile, one hand scratching his horse behind the ears as he looks you up and down with sparkling eyes.

"Not exactly princess-like behaviour now, is it?", you shrug, eliciting a chuckle from him that gives you goosebumps and makes your heart beat faster.

"If you want my humble opinion: I think it's exactly how a princess should behave", he replies, the wrinkles around his eyes from smiling making him even more handsome in your eyes. "You shouldn't have to hide from the world."

"I wish I could come here more often", you sigh, ignoring his statement, your mood suddenly burdened by the thought that this moment of freedom will not last long and you will soon find yourself locked up inside the walls of the castle again. Halbrand's expression matches yours, but his gaze lays you bare. Feeling weak, you turn away. You stumble through the sand and finally flop onto the ground on a small dune, neatly placing your shoes next to you. Halbrand leaves the horses in your sight and joins you, sitting just a few meters next to you, your elbows touching.

For a while, neither of you says anything and you just stare out at the waves, which radiate a certain calm.

"As a child, I was very sick. An unidentified illness that was brought over from the continent. Despite having overcome it, I remained in a very weak state, requiring assistance with everything. I was not allowed to go out neither were people allowed to see me for fear of infecting me again. I was always surrounded by guards", you explain, your voice strong, but you have to pull yourself together not to sob. "Míriel was the only one who stood by my side, who made my time a little more bearable. Since our father.. has fallen sick, my sister feels even more responsible for my safety and, just like him, doesn't let me go out. She says it's for my own good and I once believed that, a long time ago. But now I doubt her concern is rooted in anything else than her own fear of losing me."

As soon as the last words leave your lips, you feel free. Free from the burden of not being able to tell anyone. But saying it out loud makes it feel so much more real. Still, pride fills you that you didn't shed a single tear. Halbrand, who was hanging on your every word, looks at you not with pity or sadness, but with a smile.

"Thank you for confiding in me. I can hardly imagine how hard that must have been for you", he tells you, speaking as if all of this is no longer your present. Maybe it's not right now, but it will be once you return.

"I have been wondering why you were locked up inside your whole life", he mutters to himself and takes a handful of sand, letting it trickle through his fingers. "And despite the prospect of freedom, you are against this marriage?"

His words hit you harder than they should, because you have to admit that you haven't given it a thought since yesterday.

"It's about her treating me like I'm a commodity that can be sold for a price", you answer, anger rising inside of you at the thought. "Either she keeps me here and risks a war or she finally lets me leave, with the ulterior motive that I at least bring some added value to Númenor. Besides, no one ever said that I would come with you once we were married."

"You think she would keep you here?", Halbrand asks, astonished. When you nod, something like determination paints his features.

"I won't allow that."

"I fear none of us will have much say in this", you sigh, exhausted and defeated, absentmindedly playing with the sand now as well. "I'm sorry you have to put up with a princess who knows nothing about this world, let alone has seen anything-"

"Don't say that", Halbrand interrupts you firmly, his eyebrows drawn together as if it physically hurts him to hear such words coming from your mouth. "You are perfect in my eyes, Princess."

You are glad he can't see the way your heart has started beating faster. What he can see, however, is the blush rising to your cheeks, which you quickly try to hide by turning your head away, pulling your knees closer to you.

"I feel like no one has ever told you how beautiful you are. In every way", he continues and you are startled when you feel his hand on your chin, gently turning your face back to him. You find it difficult to look at him, his eyes are looking at you so intensely that you no longer know which way is up and which way is down.

"Lord Halb-"

"What did I tell you about the Lord?", he chuckles, shaking his head at your cute behaviour. He loves the colour of pink your cheeks have taken on and how your eyes search his for any sign that he is lying, but you find nothing but the truth in them.

"When I told you that a princess like you doesn't belong here, I meant that a princess like you, who should be a queen, doesn't belong on this island, isolated from the world", Halbrand whispers, his hand moving from your chin to your cheek, where he gently strokes your heated skin with his thumb. "You belong in the very middle of it."

"N-No. I could never be a queen, I was not born for that", you explain, confident in your own words because it's all you have ever heard in your entire life; you would never be queen.

"I will make you a queen", he replies and the conviction with which he says this, the affection that resonates in his words and his features, makes you believe in his words. You desperately want to believe them.

"I promise I will not go without bringing you along", he assures you, holding your face in both of his hands now, his face so close to yours that you only have to lean forward a little to taste his lips. Halbrand notices this too, his gaze wanders to your lips and back to your eyes, which meet his almost pleadingly. As soon as you slightly nod, he connects your lips in a gentle but longing kiss. You gasp, never having been kissed before. Your heart feels like it will jump out of your chest at any moment, the sound of the waves blurs with your heartbeat and your hands get lost in his hair.

The kiss only lasts a few seconds, both of you having to catch your breath, but you don't want to let go of him. You have no idea what this man, this inconspicuous King of the Southlands, is doing to you, but you don't want to think about it because all you know is that you finally feel like yourself again, a feeling that seems so familiar yet unknown.

"I promise I will make you a queen and if it's the last thing I do", Halbrand tells you once more, leaning his forehead against yours before leaving a gentle kiss on the side of your mouth. Smiling up at him, you waste no time to wrap your arms around his neck and connect your lips in another kiss.

You will be his queen. And then you will finally be free.

[lookoutjoe]

now this is a song for all of yall that ever had one of them days you know where you wake up with a b52 hangover and your woman is whopping you on the side of your head with a pillow that feels like a baseball bat and she's saying IF YOU STAY OUT DRUNK WITH THOSE PEOPLE YOU CALL YOUR FRIENDS UNTIL FIVE O CLOCK IN THE MORNING ONE MORE TIME I AM GOING HIT MY ASS ON DOWN THE ROAD. yes good morning dear. so you go into the backyard and put the garden hose over the top of your head. going oh god oh god. and you look over and your dog… has died. and i mean, this is a fine bird, man, he can find birds (idk what he's saying here sorry) he can find birds in queens, you know? so you hop in your short (?) and you're beating it for the welfare office right and you see in the rear view window the repro man coming. thats going to cop your car. you just lucked out of that. anyways, down at the place where you get your cheque you got to face one of them poverty pimps right. and she's saying (incoherent mumbling) yes m'am of course oh no of course i would never do anything like that yes thank you very much. bitch. i mean its bad enough that you got to go ask(?) someone 'cause you can't find no job least ways they could teach you to put a little dignity you know what i mean? anyway you figure its time to go back to the house and make things right with your woman. well. in front of your house is a sheriff's car. and there is a man who says. so. andrew j thompson is that you? yes, uh, i have a writ here from shelby county tennessee says you owe three and a half months back alimony on your first wife plus uh penalties and child support. uh. you have ten days to give me, uh… yeah uh 27 hundred thousand dollars or you're going to jail. OW! i mean that's some RUDE SHIT you know what i'm saying? so about this time you just say FUCK IT. and go on down to your favourite watering hole and you crawl up the side of and down into the middle of. and proceed to drown in a bottle of OLD. CROW. BOURBON. DRINKING. WHISKEY. YES. i mean we don't want the fancy stuff man we want to get the job done. you ain't carrying no weapons so you know you ain't gonna get into any trouble, right? as long as you remember how to RUN. it only takes you an hour and half before you start seriously going (slurring) ahhh can i have another one? i dont have i think ive had too much drink… what do you. mannnn. what do you mean man. mannnnn. i had a terrible day! (returns to normal voice) bartender's saying "i dont care if its only ten oclock its last call for you". about this time, this fine, i mean super fine foxy looking woman with the long legs and the hair down to here, flapping her baby blues comes STROLLING by. and you say, OW! and you sobers right quick, right. but having failed the third grade you say something to the effect of: "Are, uh, um. You, uh?" what you really wanna say is, uh, "hey baby. hey why dont you come over and have a drink with me. you alright? yeah, ain't nothing to it. oh, you're just passing through town? mhm. oh, he did? with twenty dollars? in las vegas? well how did you get- no, i ain't gonna ask that. uh, i'm just passing through myself, you know. anyway. sit down and lets you know get right. yo, okay. my, youre fine looking darling. ohh. ohh! hey what'd you say your name was again, yeah?" and this is the song that you wish was playing on the jukebox. cause it's got your whole story. ♬ I was lonesome as I could be...

[shini--chan]

How would England and China react to s/o finding out they killed or staged there child's death just because the child wasn't theirs and the s/o becomes either insane or kills themselves because of it?

Not gonna go all the way to that last one. Trigger warning: forced separation, child death, suicidal ideation, emotional abuse, suicide attempt

Yandere Hetalia - China, England (Heart Blood) 

China

“Don’t you think that you are overreacting a bit?”, he asked over the howling wind. 

Yao was thankful that he had elected to still keep his hair tied back once returning from work. Though, it wasn’t like he had had a lot of time and opportunity to settle down - he had noticed you standing on the edge of the roof when pulling into the parking lot. With the momentary surge of panic that sight had inflicted upon him, he had gone bounding into the house and taking the quickest route to the top. 

You turned to him, loose hair whipping into your eyes. Still, the tear stains on your checks were visible and your eyes were red rimmed. Your lips were pressed tightly together and upturned to a grimace. Finally, you opened your mouth and whispered some words into the wind. 

“What did you say?”, he inquired, having not heard you. 

“You made me believe my child is dead! How dare you! You monster! Wasn’t that overreacting? Am I not allowed to be a mother?”, you ranted, obviously heartbroken. You hadn’t taken the news of your child’s demise well, so when you found out it had been all staged, your reaction had been even worse. 

Yao had left you alone at home today after a contentious discussion at the breakfast table, intent on getting some room to breathe and then resolving the matter. For all intents and purposes, you had other ideas. 

Lost in your grief and the feeling of betrayal, you shut your mouth and turned back to the ledge of the roof and leaned forward. Best end this all before the pain grew all the more. 

However, upon realising the imminent danger you were putting yourself in, he immediately sprung to action. A deft hand grabbed you by the collar of your pullover and harshly tugged your back. 

A gagging sound was forced out of your mouth by the violent change in motion and by the collar pressing into your windpipe and trachea. Skin was scraped open as your shins were dragged over the rough concrete of the ledge. You collided with his chest, and he stumbled backwards with you haphazardly locked in his arms. You weren’t going to die; not on his watch. 

China would use the whole incident and your reaction against you. He would argue that you’re unstable and therefore unsuited to be the legal guardian of anybody. Removing the child from your care would have just been a measure to ensure everybody’s welfare, the same applying to his decision of presenting the child’s absence as death to you. You attempting to take your own life would just play into this narrative. 

Once the attempt would be over, he would have you locked up in a psychiatric ward for a few weeks. The staff there would be under strict instruction to not give you a chance of tracking the passage of time or following the events of the outside world in any capacity. This would serve to take away some semblance of reality from you. Yao would have the intention of forcing you to adopt a coping mechanism, with something relatively non-destructive like depersonalisation/derealisation being preferable to other mechanisms like forming addictions or the like. 

Would use the fact that you were institutionalised to undermine your social standing, and to present himself as generous and optimistic and so smitten with you. Since it wouldn’t be actual insanity, he would have the opportunity to quickly reintroduce you to society and garner respect and esteem due to playing such an important role in your “recovery”.  

England

You were in bed, again. In Arthur’s high opinion, this was slowly getting way out of hand. Idleness was only a good look on the ill, and you were perfectly healthy in his eyes. Of course, the events of the past few weeks had been hard on you, it was expected for you to give in to grief. After finding traces of his responsibility in the death of your child, it was understandable that you were upset; not that that would be tolerated any longer though. 

Arthur stood up, and set the newspaper he had been reading to the side. Then, he went over to the window and ripped the curtains open. Back on the bed, you just blinked a few times due to the changes in lighting and then went back to staring blankly ahead. What a pity, even some noises of protest would have been preferable to your non-reaction. 

With a scowl plastered on his face, he strode over to your side, and wrenched one of your arms up. Quiet muttering commenced, just to taper off after a few seconds. Disappointing. 

“Can you really not say anything of meaning anymore?”, he spat at you and then wrenched you out of bed. You crumbled to the floor in a sorry heap, seemingly not conscientious of any pain inflicted. 

When you still didn’t move a single muscle even after a few minutes, he wriggled his arms underneath your armpits and hoisted you into the air. Next, he wrapped an arm around your waist to prevent you from falling in on yourself again, as you seemed so wont to do. 

A calloused hand grasped your face, and forced you to look at him. Not that it helped much, from the looks of it, with your bovine stare and flat affect. 

“Can’t you be more useless”, he remarked snidely. 

Arthur would find the whole affair very annoying. You just had to be clever enough to find out about his involvement in your child’s murder and you just had to be so sensitive to fall to insanity/catonia. At first, he would think that it is merely something that you need to snap out of, and proceed to wait. Maybe he’ll even be able to catch you red-handed at being “normal”. When that doesn’t occur, then he’ll go down the route of trying to provoke a reaction out of you. 

While he would love the fact that you aren’t cursing him out, or trying to run away anymore, your predicament would be the cause of a different frustration for him. Never had been wanted an inanimate object as a love interest. You are supposed to have a measure of your own agency, provided you heed his whims and desires. 

Would try to cure you or even just force you to become more reactive through a mixture of drugs that provoke/suppress certain emotions. In continuation, he would use any ensuing addictions to have tighter control over you. 

[messenger-of-stupidity]

NAH NAH NAH

Okay. Let's go through the thoughts of this latest update. There's a lot so buckle up buttercup.

1. Kravitas is literally so based. He's willing to spare Albus the suffering of long travel just because he's bored when typically he would enjoy Albus suffering.

2. Only Albus would risk insanity to spite a demon. Ever heard of cutting off your nose to spite your face, Albus? Seriously, these dude shot himself out of a fucking canon to stop Devlin from touching this hella cursed sword, but in typical Albus fashion when it's his safety and emotional welfare at stake common sense flies out the gods be damned window.

4. Is Kravitas really a demon or was his statement last episode about being more than that the truth that Albus just chose to call bullshit on?

5. Kerano, sweetie, if you don't like the sweater you don't gotta be nice to me and lie. Tis okay

6. Dad is back with his video of a casual demon attack. A normal Thursday. You'd think violence could slow enough for Faithful to get some groceries but I guess not.

7. AN ADULT TALK? EXCUSE ME? also yes now shoo child.

8. Guess I'll just go in a bunker and braid some hair or some shit. Whatever.

9. Don't you love it when the father figure of your child is so obsessed with transformers that he turns into a robot? (Yes I know he didn't turn into a robot. It just sounded kind of robotic in my head and it was funny.

10. What's the song called? It was kind of a vibe.

11. Oh my God we're raising a menace, thief, AND a liar. Where did we go wrong? 😭 Also can Faithful read minds? She was able to hear Kerano's mind about a key or something before Kerano had it, and was able to read the thoughts after that.

12. Move aside, Faithful is coming through like a badass. Hold the child

13. Oh neat. Both Albus and I have yelling voices in our head. 🥲

14. "I AM THE GREATEST GOOD YOURE EVER GONNA GET" - Faithful 2023

15. IS HE CUTTING OFF HIS HAND?! KERANO LOOK AWAY

16. Are... Are you seriously gonna make me choose between my two husbands right now? WHERES MY POLY OPTION? (Albus and Devlin in strictly familial relationship with each other. No condoning incest here)

-Branch-

Albus Route:

- yeah u tell him Devlin! How dare he try to reject us after saying it was our choice. Bitch

- UH I UH UHM ER

- daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry

- HOW MANY ROUNDS? Albus let her BREATHE before you fuck her to death omg

- I thought we became a bio mom to half demon children. But nah turns out we became a slutty saint

- YOOOO another thing in common with Albus! We both don't like kids. For different reasons but the point still remains

- Awww. He misses Devlin.

- Kerano is wholesome but I ain't forgiving her for snatching that key

- wait does anyone remember when he said he wouldnt tap faithful with a ten foot pole? Does that mean he tapped her with an eleven foot pole to stay true to his word?

- Devlin Route -

- that's what your brother said to me in an alternate reality when I chose him too.

- Albus back with the orgies. My angsty brain McThinks it's some copium since that's his whole "nothing hurts me!" Mask

- "HES A ROCKIN SPACE AGE BACHELOR MAN" I hope he gets his dream of being a monsterfucker

- Faithful got that holy rizz sheeeeeeesh

- astrology 🥰

- wait nevermind. Just some brotherly love

- you can call me darling any day of the week baby. I am living for it.

- Awww starry kiss. 🥹

Update: I keep forgetting there's a high chance that GBA will see this... BUT YOU KNOW WHAT?! I STAND BY WHAT I SAID (/lh) 😤😤😤

Update #2: for those asking about the third route thoughts, that's a secret that I'm saving for a fic.

[mobiused]

To be honest the fact we got to the stage where we could agree that boycotting is the right thing to do kinda surprised me cuz I'm so used to people going "but what about the babygirlywirlys feelings🥺🥺 they are just simpleminded feeble little girls who dont know what a big word like BOYCOTT means and theyll think we dont wuv them and will want to kill themsleves,, so we cant do that to them🥺" Obviously the notion that these grown women would be unable to wrap their head around the concept of a boycott being for the greater good is even funnier seeing as Lawsuit Line have organised their own boycott (‼ so awesome!!) of Fab. So yeah they understand what a fucking boycott is and won't take it personally.

Like. if you have been an orbit for a long time you will remember how wuebits spoke and still speak about Choerry's boycott and how it mustve hurt her little feelings... like paying to see a child in a miniskirt moan in your ear and dance provocatively is somehow OK if you say you only paid money to the company that did this her because you........ don't want to upset her..??? (I hope you never have children if this is your mindset regarding safeguarding and welfare of kids.) So yeah I am actually impressed that Orbits have finally fucking finally changed their tune, especially in this day and age where a tweet talking about how gross it is to support children in the industry gets 20k RTs and yet somehow all you guys know the names of these freshly debuted kids and their favorite colors their token animal their mothers maiden name etc etc etc. Are you not embarrassed lol...

And I hope we shame everyone we see who fails to boycott because it *is* embarrassing and it *is* weak, and it *is* putting money in the pockets of criminals and abusers. We can't just say it's okay~ I understand~ because no actually I don't understand how you can be so lacking in self control that its actually harder for you to literally do nothing than to waste money on some junk when you can pirate it anyway. How could you be so pathetic and somehow claim to care about these girls' wellbeing? Like this about people's real lives and real human rights and we need to take it as seriously as the girls deserve.

[lalalychee]

cw for talk of suicide, abuse, domestic violence, parental death, and addiction.

i am prefacing this by stating that i am safe, so please for the love of god don't call the police on me for a welfare check. these are thoughts that i have wanted to say for a long time, so please let me say them. again, i am safe.

the tl;dr version of this very long post is that it doesn't always get better, and i wish people would stop saying that it universally does. actually it sometimes permanently gets worse.

the thing that sucks about being in therapy for being suicidal is that so much emphasis is put on retraining your brain to know that you are worthwhile and that you deserve to live. i don't have that problem. i love and value myself so much. i know i am worthwhile and deserve to be loved. i know i am deserving of a good life.

the issue is that a good life is not what i have been given, nor will things change for the better. people love to tell you that it gets better, but in reality that isn't true for everyone.

many of the people in my life met me after i had become disabled, and even people who knew me before then don't necessarily know about the kind of life i came from. i was abused for over 26 years. my parents were addicts, and audrey (my little sister) and i were subjected to so many different kinds of abuse growing up that i've never successfully managed to tell one person the full extent of it. the briefest summary i can give is snippets from it all:

one of my earliest memories is having a phone ripped out of my hand and thrown at me when i tried to call the police on our dad because our mom was on the floor sobbing and bleeding after he'd hit her. i had to clean the blood off our mom's face while we hid in the bathroom.

when i was ten, i was in a car accident because my mom was drunk and fucked up on narcotics while driving, and she passed out at the wheel. i was on the side that crashed. i cannot think of a time when either of our parents were sober while driving throughout our entire childhood; they started drinking at 6am every day.

when i was twelve, shortly after our oldest sister passed away from lupus, our father's abuse toward our mom had gotten severe enough that, after years and years of us begging her to file for a divorce, she finally did. we had to hide in a women's shelter for weeks because he stalked us. he called our mother over 60 times a day, sometimes well over a hundred.

when i was thirteen, our mother got addicted to crack and became less and less present in our lives even though she had full custody of us. over time, she stopped buying groceries, stopped buying daily necessities, and eventually stopped coming home all together. by the time i was fifteen, i was taking care of audrey (who was twelve at the time) entirely on my own. we stole food to survive. we were so poor that we did not have access to even the most basic things like clean clothes or feminine hygeine products. eventually someone reported our mother to the police and she was charged with child abandonment. we were sent to live with our father, the very man who we had fled from just a few years prior.

our mom eventually went to rehab and we reconnected on my sixteenth birthday. i asked her when she was going to try to get custody of us again, and she said she didn't want to. this meant she would rather us live with our abuser than take responsibility for the children she forced into a life we never asked for.

she became sick with breast cancer for a second time (the first being when i was ten), and she died just after my seventeeth birthday.

the abuse we suffered from our father is not something i have yet found the ability to describe. what i can say is that he had so much control over every move i made that i became completely isolated. i went to school, and eventually work as well (although he barely allowed that), but that was it. i could not so much as go to the mailbox without him knowing where i was going, even long after i was a legal adult. we did not manage to escape his household until i was 26 years old.

when i was 26, audrey and i moved out together, and our father continued his habit of stalking women by stalking us relentlessly, even when we obtained restraining order after restraining order.

after years of being arrested for restraining order violations, he has fortunately made less and less attempts to get to us, but to this day i have nightmares about him almost every night. i fear i will not be free from the terror he has scarred me with even once he has died.

this is the kind of life i lived before my accident. these are the kinds of wounds i already was bleeding from day in and day out, trying so hard to recover from. and after all of that, a freak accident at 30 completely ruined any hope i had of ever living some semblance of a normal life. i degloved my knee, an injury that's every bit as horrible as it sounds. from that injury i developed stage 3 CRPS, a permanent neurological condition that is considered the most painful chronic pain condition known. a CRPS flare-up is more painful than childbirth, and no that is not an exaggeration. there is no cure, and treatments are limited and often only work temporarily, if that. even amputation generally does not make the pain stop. i cannot walk without a mobility aid (and excrutiating pain), and it is likely that i will one day lose my ability to walk entirely.

statistically speaking, it's not surprising that i ended up disabled. abuse survivors are more likely to become disabled for an array of reasons. but as a lived experience, it's surprising every single day. i survived years and years of abuse for this? this is my big reward for enduring, enduring, enduring? life will of course always come with hardships, but to me there is a drastic difference between average life hardships versus becoming crippled at 30 with pain i cannot be free from even if i cut my fucking leg off.

i love and value myself. i truly do. and in fact i value myself enough to know i deserve better than the life i have--a life of constant pain with no hope of reprieve.

i am often told to keep going out of spite, if nothing else. i have no spite. i am not angry. i am not bitter. my spite vacated me aeons ago, and in its place all i have is marrow-deep exhaustion.

of course i know that i am loved and that i would be missed. but if a dog is in a condition that has robbed them of what we consider to be a suitable quality of life, we allow the dog to die, even if we will miss the dog so much it feels like we'll never heal from it.

if we are doing something that hurts us, and it keeps hurting us, and even if we try to go about it a different way it still hurts us, we stop doing it.

this is where i find myself. this is why, even after all my years of therapy, i cannot shake the all-consuming thought that i so desperately want to die.

[samueldays]

@eightyonekilograms asked:

What are the actual bits of legislation and policy which discourage people from having more children? I mean, people can and do argue furiously over this question, but

I don't know, but I think it would be funny to present some spurious correlations and non-correlations from Gapminder, to hint how high the bar for "evidence" is (or arguably should be) in these furious arguments. I have no specific conclusion here, only a sort of confused interest in the subject and a feeling that it should get more attention. I have my quibbles with Gapminder, but it provides a lot of easily visualized data.

Maybe the problem is low infant mortality. If you killed more infants, people would have more children to replace the dead ones. /s Note log scale:

I am confident in saying this is obviously not a real cause despite the high correlation; if you want to show a real cause then you should be able to present a correlation at least this strong to stand out from the noise!

(Color coding is blue=africa, red=asia, yellow=europe, green=americas)

Same data without the scaled-to-population data discs, and with one weird country highlighted:

Israel is clearly doing something right to have low infant mortality and lots of babies, and Israel is also such an absurd outlier on many other counts that trying to get policy from Israel is probably ineffective.

Maybe personal computers are to blame:

This is a linear scale but looks like a log chart anyway, and it's suggestive of needing less than 1 PC per 5 people to reproduce at replacement. Log off, go outside, touch ass. (Gapminder auto-adjusts years sometimes when it doesn't have later data, hence the 2006.)

81 suggested it's NIMBY housing policy and I didn't find a good measure of that, but here's something at least vaguely related to construction regulation, for what that's worth: Procedures to build a warehouse.

Mmmm not seeing a correlation there.

To some degree, a lot of the stats from Gapminder are proxies for prosperity, and there's something about prosperity that's negatively correlated with reproduction.

If you measure something like "energy use per person" or "life expectancy" or HDI, it's going to closely track GDP per capita. So let's look at some stats I think are less associated with GDP per capita.

Unemployment rate? This ain't it chief.

Motorcycle death rate? Nah.

(The far-right dot is Thailand. TIL!)

Here's another which is correlated with the overall GDP per capita. Rich states can afford more of it, and they do. It's similar to some programs suggested to increase birthrate:

Gapminder doesn't have specific data on parental leave or child subsidies, but the fact that welfare is so tightly correlated with lower birthrate suggests that you can't subsidise your way out of this.

(The outlier dot here is, again, Israel.)

In closing, consider more teen pregnancy:

[fabaceous]

I love your jackieshauna thoughts, so Id love to know what you'd think would've happened if Jackie had lived, and Shauna had the baby, with both and her and her child surviving? Would Jackie ignore the baby? Forgive Shauna? Care for the baby? And post rescue?

ahh i am so flattered thank you and im glad you enjoy them! so if all three of them had lived, you're saying? honestly that is such an optimistic scenario that i dont think ive ever really devoted any serious thought to it😂 i dont know... i could see a world where jackie throws herself into the stepdad/dad-who-stepped-up role in the woods and cares a lot about the baby ... it could be kind of a reverse divorce scenario lol she and shauna may not really reconcile at first but sort of grudgingly coparent the child because they care about its welfare so they put aside their issues ... and then maybe over time the coparenting thing gives them some perspective and brings them back together... our very own yellowjackets romcom!

im kinda struggling to think of other scenarios tbh. i could see jackie like you said, ignoring the baby for a bit because she's so pissed at shauna and wants nothing to do with her (and by extension nothing to do with the baby bc it's also this reminder of jeff, and jeffandshauna, which would be extra painful) ... but i also feel like jackie's the kind of person who is a sucker for babies so i dont think she'd last super long!

post rescue, good question. i always draw a blank for post rescue scenarios just because we know so little about that timeline to begin with that and i do my best speculation when i have at least something to go off of... like, i assume the baby would live with shauna and her mom, right? lol imagine if jackie is over there so much that she basically moves in (a win-win right, cause she would probably be happy to escape her own parents) and she, like, bans jeff from the house because fuck that guy, SHE'S the dad. sorry this is kind of turning into a romcom again hahaha

[jellybeanium124]

the collapse of the united states government would not be good. I know that the US gov't has fucked shit up literally everywhere, but there is a lot of stuff they do that you don't think about. let's talk about just the domestic stuff as I am a citizen of the empire and am most familiar with that. in no particular order, completely off the top of my head:

funding for the upkeep of the interstate highway system

FDA and USDA making sure the food and drugs we're ingesting don't harm or kill us

some states pay more in federal takes than they get back but some states don't these states are funding their shit with federal funds. schools, for example. our FREE public education system. FREE public education age 5-18 WAS NOT ALWAYS A THING

let's be honest, if the federal government collapsed, that would affect things at the state and local level. your fire department. your library. the upkeep of your public parks. public universities. hospitals.

How are we gonna import foreign items?? you know like all the stuff from china we consume on a daily basis?

they print all the money. if you think inflation is bad now wtf do you think will happen without the federal government keeping it in check??

medicare and medicaid

CHIP and food stamps

about 3 million people work for the federal government. that's 3 million people, from the politicians you want to firebomb down to the janitors cleaning government buildings out of a job. and remember that federal employees work all across the country. this isn't just the good old swamp that will be affected.

state and local government employs tens of millions of people. social workers work for the state. public defendants. all out of a job.

speaking of social workers, not to cry "think of the children" but fuck it yeah think of the children. no school = no outside adults watching them for signs of abuse. no social workers/child protection agency = nobody intervening at all. what about all the kids up for adoption? what about all the kids in foster care? the federal government supports state child welfare and foster care, although there are private foster care agencies. what happens to those kids?

without taxes how are you paying for anything

the national parks?? who is looking after them?

911? what are we supposed to do in an emergency?

I'm stopping here. This is just the domestic stuff a shmuck like me could think of in a few minutes with minimal googling. To say nothing of foreign aid elsewhere in the world.

Yes, the federal government has done many horrible, tragic, unforgivable things, at home and abroad. this is not a brain-dead patriotic defense of the united states. I also know many people would like us to shove our foreign aid up our own butts because it's the opposite of helpful. but the us gov't also does many thankless upkeep and maintenance tasks without which many many many people will DIE. The collapse of the united states government would be a horror and a tragedy. the united states is an empire and the collapse of an empire will be bloody and tragic and brutal. maybe that makes your blood hot with righteous revolutionary fervor, but what happens when it's your mom or dad or sibling or best friend or partner or you? what happens when the world as you know it collapses around you and you can't get your medications or gas for your car and your money is better off being burnt in a fire? what happens then, huh?

[protect-daniel-james]

found a lovely little interview with Unai from his co-written book "Mentalidad ganadora":

What is perfect happiness for you? - A deep inner feeling that is not conditioned by the outside.

What is your greatest fear? - I try not to use the word "fear" because I know well that it conditions. There is a fear that is perhaps necessary at certain times in order to be able to respond to events. (proceeds to talk about football which is irrelevant here) I don't live in fear.

Which historical figure do you most identify with? - I have never had a clear reference, to be honest. The prototype can be a person of integrity, respect, and a fighter for positive things.

Which living person do you admire the most? - I admire hard-working people and people who put in place the progress, welfare, and peaceful coexistence of human beings.

What is the personality trait you like least about yourself? - Uncontrolled selfishness.

And what do you dislike the most in the others? - Envy and resentment.

What is your biggest extravagance? - I don't consider myself an extravagant person. I would be embarrassed.

On what occasions do you lie? - In white lies. For example, when your mother calls you and asks, "Have you had dinner?" And you haven't had dinner yet, because you haven't had time. Things like that, of little importance.

What do you like least about your appearance? - I don't like to see myself on television or on the internet. I don't look good (to) myself. I think it's the conflict we people have of wanting to be perfect. I like to give a personal touch to my clothes. A coach once told me, "You talk faster than you think", yes, I speed up when I talk.

When and where have you been happiest? - I think I have always been happy, I feel happy internally, with virtues and defects. I have never had excessive ambitions. My images of happiness are: as a child, with my friends, siblings, and family, and with a lot of football around me. I have always felt fortunate.

If you could change anything in your life, what would it be? - Maybe, when I was a soccer player, I stopped studying for too many years.

If you could change anything in your family, what would it be? - My wife is from Malaga and I am from Guipuzkoa. From the virtues of seriousness, responsibility, and dedication to our obligations, maybe we northerners have the defect of not being very caring and detail-oriented for the "little big moments". The attachment of families, in the North, is more to do than to say. When it comes down to it, it really should be half-and-half…

What do you think has been your greatest achievement? - Doing my profession with patience and perseverance.

If you died and were reincarnated as a person or a thing, what would it be? - Actually, I would like to be me again. A person close to me, whom his friends call "vinegar" because of how negative (sour) he can be, thinks things like, "Why was I brought into this world if I didn't ask to come?" My position is the opposite.

What is your most precious treasure? - My son, without a doubt. My heart is largely occupied by my son and my family, my friends, and the teams in which I have been lucky enough to develop: Real Sociedad, Toledo, Ferrol, Leganés, Lorca, Almería, Valencia.

What do you consider to be the greatest human misery? - Inequality, which leads to poverty. I am neither left-wing nor right-wing, but I consider this world to be very badly distributed. And that we are all quite selfish… In this generalized selfishness, everyone moves in 80 percent only for what is in their interest. The 20 percent in the most solidary ones are the example, thinking of others. There are few people who really work against inequality.

Who are your heroes in real life? - My son, because he embodies his mother's values and mine. What I value most in my son is how happy he is. To see in a son how much he loves his mother and how much he loves me is fantastic.

What do you dislike the most? - Getting up in the morning when the day before we lost a game. Since I was a player I can easily disconnect and sleep thinking about positive things, but the memory of what happened comes to me when I wake up. I sleep well but I wake up thinking about and working on the game.

How would you like to die? - Without being afraid of death, which is something I'm not worried about right now. I would like to die surrounded by the people I love the most. And providing more peace to them than they would do to me.

What is your personal motto? - My internal motto is: "Come on, come on, Unai, don't stop, move forward" and I tend to express it in different ways. Go forward, with strength. For example, when we score or when we win a game, I make a very characteristic gesture (a very sportsmanlike gesture, moving my right arm inwards) I think that you have to do things as well as possible, the circumstances that you create are the path to success. Because the better you do things, the more likely you are to succeed.

I love all of this; especially the way it goes from "who is your hero" to "how would you like to die", lol. But seriously, it's a nice insight into Unai's soul, and I will be using the hell out of it.

[incomingalbatross]

Completely unedited and unexpanded reading notes on Tenthragon Ch. 8-19

Ch. 8

(filled with rage) Mary!!!!

That is all I have to say about chapter 8. This poor BABY. He doesn't understand how rules work! Scaring him doesn't HELP!

Okay wait I do have something else to say, and it's that I genuinely don't know what Hugh was getting at with his hints about Brendan's relationship to Paddy.

The obvious idea is that Brendan is Paddy's father, but then A) Hugh wouldn't hate Paddy if he weren't the Snake's son, right?? and B) Hugh says Paddy IS their cousin, implying he is ALSO something else.

This suggests a relation might be through Paddy's mother's side--was she a relation of theirs? I don't think she could be Hugh and Brendan's sister, though, because I think someone said she lived in China.

*throws up hands*

Ch. 9:

Paddy trying to hide from the Nightmare Guilt lurking in his mind is all too relatable. :(

Wait did Ellen say Hugh TOOK Paddy from his parents? I mean, no names obviously, but the baby mentioned has to be somebody we know and there's nobody else. How does THAT fit in here?

Ellen. Thank you for giving good advice, but also TAKE IT YOURSELF. If it's better to be punished by Brendan than kept in bondage by Hugh (and it IS), act on that? Don't ask the child to braver than you're being.

Ch. 10

Hugh: *tortures a child*

Hugh: UGH why are you always crying

I DO understand that he's replicating what Paddy's father did to him.

…That should really make him LESS surprised by the results.

Ch. 11:

All right, Hugh suffers SOME pangs of conscience. Not enough to actually face what he's doing, but some.

Ugggh this man. Wilfully fighting back against his softer feelings toward Paddy, of course, but I'm also just mad how he assumes Paddy will ENJOY misbehaving or breaking things. Even when Paddy says he doesn't want to! Hugh doesn't listen!

Ch. 12:

"surely you love him well enough to trust him?" That's the WHOLE THING, that's what Paddy can't get to, because he can't tell what's reasonable and what isn't so maybe a person like Brendon WOULD still cut his thumbs off for what he did! Maybe that's a reasonable consequence in Brendon's eyes! He can't piece together that that's incompatible with his love and respect for Brendon. Because he is a CHILD.

Hm, the sister lived in Other Thragoness all her childhood and Hugh refuses to say any more. Some evidence she could be Paddy's mother, then.

Oh NO poor BABY (he was caned)

Ch. 13:

Hugh: Hm. Why does hurting my baby cousin/nephew feel bad. Why am I trying to make him feel better. Why CAN'T I make him feel better by just pressing a button and magically turning off all his hurt feelings, it's like my actions have consequences

Ah yeah, Hugh's got a point, doesn't he? The "telling Brendon" threat isn't just empty, it's more likely to end HIS world instead of Paddy's.

Hugh: Well, having recreated my childhood trauma, I guess I'll recreate the consolations we got as well! Please don't examine any of this too closely (SUCH a mess)

And he literally HAS a way out of this self-created trap. Brendon wants to tell him Paddy's here! He is asking for an opportunity! And Hugh decides to keep going with the layers of lies instead.

"Hugo mio" aw that's cute

"DON'T TELL ME HE'S LIKE ROBIN I DON'T LIKE THOSE IMPLICATIONS"

"You would like him yourself if you knew him." OOF

Ch. 14:

Can't believe Paddy told Hugh he was "mean" for the first time ever and it was over Hugh's teasing him with a glimpse of "the baby"

(Also that Paddy's immediate reaction to hearing the baby was in the house was "Brendon doesn't like it better than me?" <3)

Brendon's a knight for the costume party. Of course.

Hugh speaking well of Quentin is…a lot. But also OW the blatantly awful things lying BARELY under the surface of what he tells Paddy--and that is the best he has to tell! It's just All Awful! 

Of course, this isn't sustainable either. But give Hugh credit, he has very little practice thinking about other people's emotional welfare. He's trying not to be actively cruel here!!

Ch. 15:

Oh no, baby. :( Progress with Hugh is good but a barrier between him and Brendon is BAD. Unfair to both of them.

Ugggh, ANOTHER unjust adult in his life. Just what Paddy needed.

"Did you enjoy living at Victoria Lodge?" "Why, was I meant to?"

NO

Brendon is his world! And yet he believes Brendon might cut his thumbs off! THIS is why little children are so vulnerable!!

He's HURTING HIMSELF ON PURPOSE to make a chance for Brendon to take care of him. HONEY

Oh the ESSAY. The best thing Miss Prince ever did was send Brendon Paddy's essay.

His mostly-dead relatives are his imaginary friends. I can't believe Paddy actually brought MORE Gothic to Thragoness.

His imaginary dad is just a version of Brendon who approves of him AUGH

He's REENACTING THE RING ABUSE AS A PRETEND Brendon get this child some better occupations

Ch. 16:

No Brendon not like that

…The flipside of the problem is that Brendon ALSO doesn't get that Paddy loves HIM. Because Paddy doesn't TRUST him and Brendon is misdiagnosing the symptoms (and doesn't have confidence he CAN do a decent job with Paddy)

Hugh. Hugh. I GET that you can't cope with Brendon's feelings being hurt either, but it doesn't help to yell at Paddy without actually explaining what he did wrong, and it ESPECIALLY doesn't help when this whole thing is your fault

(Though tbf, Paddy HAS been hiding his problem from Hugh. And Hugh doesn't want to see anything unpleasant unless it's put directly in front of him, so)

Hugh is such a WILD mixture of growing self-knowledge and complete blindness to Paddy. "Not that YOU would know anything about living in dread of discovery, of course"

Ch. 17

Ah yes the WORST POSSIBLE PERSON to catch Paddy. SURE WHY NOT.

All three of the Tenthragon boys are having the WORST DAY IMAGINABLE.

Incredibly impressive, though, what coherent characters both of these brothers are even filtered through Paddy's POV.

Oh Brendon. Buddy. I understand what you're doing, and Hugh literally asked for it because he can't achieve emotional honesty to save his life, but DON'T.

Ch. 18:

Okay, I did not give Brendon enough credit. I mean, I still suspect he doesn't know how MUCH he means to Hugh, but he's putting more even thought into this than I thought.

Paddy loves Hugh too. :( It shouldn't have been his job to learn to understand Hugh, but he has a bit anyway.

He's writing LETTERS to Hugh.

No one is entirely happy and everyone concerned here misses each other and it doesn't CHANGE anything

Oh, the mysterious sister is here?? She's here with her husband???

Auggggh the Snake is HERE.

UGGGGH the sleeper command to "obey Brendon" at the beginning of the book came from HIM? Of course it did. Lifelong expert in frightening children.

Hey. Hey Hugh. Thanks for stealing Paddy when he was a baby.

Ch. 19:

…Oh. Somehow I did NOT place that all the tragic Tenthragon deaths probably weren't accidents.

…Really should've picked up on that.

Oh GOLLY. (Quentin getting legal and financial guardianship over Hugh.)

Hugh telling the whole story in third person because he can't deal with actually TELLING Paddy.

I repeat: even if it wasn't Hugh's intention, the arrangement he put into place ended up being probably the best outcome possible for Paddy.

…I'm sorry, are you telling me that Hugh is STILL NOT A LEGAL ADULT. CURRENTLY.

I knew he was young, but…

That's what you DO miss when POV is filtered through a nine-year-old.

(Brendon might still be in his twenties himself, then. He probably is. OOF he has had WAY too much on his shoulders for WAY too long.)

(He IS in his twenties. He's I think twenty-five?? What an INCREDIBLY good adult he's been.)

Noooo, Brendon, Paddy DOES deserve to know. He's already in the middle of this, he should get to navigate it with some understanding of what he's seen.

Oh, all right, if Hugh didn't want it read then it's fine. Hopefully Paddy can wait a bit to understand his family fully.

Dread.

It ends THERE?

[ainyan]

coral— what’s something you’re passionate about?

salmon— would you prefer a partner who is an introvert or an extrovert? why?

pastel pink— do you prefer to dress up and go out or stay in and relax?

-each for one precious FFXIV baby of your choice :3

coral— what’s something you’re passionate about?

"What am I passionate about?" Kyszarin reaches down to stroke his hand along Raine's hair where the other viera sits cross-legged at his feet. "Besides him?" He smiles when the younger man tilts his head back and beams upwards at him. "I think... the welfare of children," he admits softly. "And the preservation of wild spaces - but mostly the former."

Raine pipes up. "It's true, nothing gets him angrier than seeing a child neglected or abused. I can't tell you how many parents have been given a taste of what they give their kids."

"Children are precious," Kyszarin says flatly. "They're a gift. You don't neglect your gifts. You don't abuse your gifts. You admire them. You cherish them." He strokes his hand over Raine's hair again, soothing himself. "You love them."

salmon— would you prefer a partner who is an introvert or an extrovert? why?

Szah'li shifts uncomfortably. "I mean, I don't know," he says, ears flat to his skull and tail twitching back and forth like an irritated cat's. "I guess an introvert, 'cause I don't want a partner who's gonna get upset when I'm all hunkered up and hiding." Grimacing, he mutters at himself. "I mean," he adds, his diction shifting, becoming more precise as he concentrates, "I would not be a very good partner for someone who is extroverted. I don't really like being in the spotlight, and they will be awfully bored when I don't want to go out and... mingle." His eyes slide to the side and he falls into a brooding silence. "I don't think she's an extrovert?" he murmurs, his voice almost too soft to carry.

pastel pink— do you prefer to dress up and go out or stay in and relax?

Ciprys laughs gaily. "Dress up and go out, of course!" she cries, springing to her feet and doing a quick twirl, skirts swirling and skin flashing. "Why would I own so many pretty dresses if I don't want to be seen?"

Cirdan leans back in his chair and sighs grumpily. With a giggle, the tiny Au Ra twirls and slides onto his lap, throwing her arms around his neck. "Don't listen to Mr. Frump here - he cuts quite a resplendant figure, himself," she assures you. "He just doesn't like to show off as much as I do. He makes an excellent foil for me, though. And he's so terribly indulgent."

Cirdan grunts again, but nods, allowing that he is, indeed, terribly indulgent.

Original Ask Meme

Thank you for the ask!

[fightingthetides]

2 truths and a lie

I regret that I did not know what my family was from the beginning.

I am afraid I will stain my hands with blood.

I am scared my father and I will never have good relations again.

Taken from meme: [x] ||Accepting||

Hard to say, but Ravein was inclined to towards one of the options. It was harder to dig for information on subjective or non-tangible things like emotions. For those who don't speak on their emotions or always construe their emotions as something else, it was hard to get accurate information on such things.

Still, knowing that she'd been a civilian for so long, coming to suddenly find out the true occupation of your Father must've come as quite the shock. It was reasonable to think that the fear of having your hands stained with blood eventually.

He knew from experience how it felt to stain your hands with bloods due to the mafia.

Did she fear that her relations with her Father would never be good again? He was conflicted. He dare say that she may be worried about it, or rather instead be bitter about how things turned out because he kept this part of her life a secret from her until now.

It was a plausible choice.

However, the first one had his attention. Why? The wording. Regret, to feel sorrow for what has been done or failed to be done.

She was never given the choice in the matter of knowing the true nature of her family. The truth was kept from her, and so there is no regret for what was failed to be done. You can't regret when you were never given the choice.

You simply lament over what could have been or become bitter over the injustice of the situation.

Though maybe he's thinking too much into things. In regards to relations, it took two parties. If she was willing to put forth the effort to mend the relationship, that was half the battle. If he saw no reason to mend their relationship, then it was doomed to fail.

Ravein, being the simple-minded and optimistic fool he was, wanted to believe that no parent would wish to have a bad relationship with their child. What parent wouldn't care for their child and their welfares?

Nunnally seemed resistant to the mafia world, so he didn't think she wanted to acclimate herself to the cutthroat and dark world, so fearing what she may become if she sticks around would be a valid concern.

All in all, the first option was looking the most likely.

[#1]

So, tell him. Is he right?

[sortyourlifeoutmate]

A Christmas Carol is very of its time, yes, and has been done to death (and back again), yes, but I still have something of a queer soft spot for it, and I still think it has some pretty good lines here and there - not for nothing do people remember Dickens!

Also kind of a bummer that some of the sentiment remains relevant in this, the space-year of 2022.

To whit:

"I wish to be left alone," said Scrooge. "Since you ask me what I wish, gentlemen, that is my answer. I don't make merry myself at Christmas, and I can't afford to make idle people merry. I help to support the establishments I have mentioned: they cost enough: and those who are badly off must go there."

"Many can't go there; and many would rather die."

"If they would rather die," said Scrooge, "they had better do it, and decrease the surplus population. Besides—excuse me—I don't know that."

"But you might know it," observed the gentleman.

"It's not my business," Scrooge returned. "It's enough for a man to understand his own business, and not to interfere with other people's. Mine occupies me constantly. Good afternoon, gentlemen!"

And:

"But you were always a good man of business, Jacob," faultered Scrooge, who now began to apply this to himself.

"Business!" cried the Ghost, wringing its hands again. "Mankind was my business. The common welfare was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance, and benevolence, were, all, my business. The dealings of my trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business!"

And this, heavy-handed but still:

"Spirit," said Scrooge, with an interest he had never felt before, "tell me if Tiny Tim will live."

"I see a vacant seat," replied the Ghost, "in the poor chimney corner, and a crutch without an owner, carefully preserved. If these shadows remain unaltered by the Future, the child will die."

"No, no," said Scrooge. "Oh no, kind Spirit! say he will be spared."

"If these shadows remain unaltered by the Future, none other of my race," returned the Ghost, "will find him here. What then? If he be like to die, he had better do it, and decrease the surplus population."

Scrooge hung his head to hear his own words quoted by the Spirit, and was overcome with penitence and grief.

"Man," said the Ghost, "if man you be in heart, not adamant, forbear that wicked cant until you have discovered What the surplus is, and Where it is. Will you decide what men shall live, what men shall die? It may be, that in the sight of Heaven, you are more worthless and less fit to live than millions like this poor man's child. Oh God! to hear the Insect on the leaf pronouncing on the too much life among his hungry brothers in the dust!"

And:

Spirit," said Scrooge, after a moment's thought, "I wonder you, of all the beings in the many worlds about us, should desire to cramp these people's opportunities of innocent enjoyment."

"I!" cried the Spirit.

"You would deprive them of their means of dining every seventh day, often the only day on which they can be said to dine at all," said Scrooge. "Wouldn't you?"

"I!" cried the Spirit.

"You seek to close these places on the Seventh Day?" said Scrooge. "And it comes to the same thing."

"I seek!" exclaimed the Spirit.

"Forgive me if I am wrong. It has been done in your name, or at least in that of your family," said Scrooge.

"There are some upon this earth of yours," returned the Spirit, "who lay claim to know us, and who do their deeds of passion, pride, ill-will, hatred, envy, bigotry, and selfishness in our name; who are as strange to us and all our kith and kin, as if they had never lived. Remember that, and charge their doings on themselves, not us."

And:

"Forgive me if I am not justified in what I ask," said Scrooge, looking intently at the Spirit's robe, "but I see something strange, and not belonging to yourself, protruding from your skirts. Is it a foot or a claw!"

"It might be a claw, for the flesh there is upon it," was the Spirit's sorrowful reply. "Look here."

From the foldings of its robe, it brought two children; wretched, abject, frightful, hideous, miserable. They knelt down at its feet, and clung upon the outside of its garment.

"Oh, Man! look here. Look, look, down here!" exclaimed the Ghost.

They were a boy and girl. Yellow, meagre, ragged, scowling, wolfish; but prostrate, too, in their humility. Where graceful youth should have filled their features out, and touched them with its freshest tints, a stale and shrivelled hand, like that of age, had pinched, and twisted them, and pulled them into shreds. Where angels might have sat enthroned, devils lurked, and glared out menacing. No change, no degradation, no perversion of humanity, in any grade, through all the mysteries of wonderful creation, has monsters half so horrible and dread.

Scrooge started back, appalled. Having them shown to him in this way, he tried to say they were fine children, but the words choked themselves, rather than be parties to a lie of such enormous magnitude.

"Spirit! are they yours?" Scrooge could say no more.

"They are Man's," said the Spirit, looking down upon them. "And they cling to me, appealing from their fathers. This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want. Beware them both, and all of their degree, but most of all beware this boy, for on his brow I see that written which is Doom, unless the writing be erased. Deny it!" cried the Spirit, stretching out its hand towards the city. "Slander those who tell it ye! Admit it for your factious purposes, and make it worse! And bide the end!"

"Have they no refuge or resource?" cried Scrooge.

"Are there no prisons?" said the Spirit, turning on him for the last time with his own words. "Are there no workhouses?"

Hamfisted and paternalistic Victorian moralising it may well be, but when hamfisted, paternalistic Victorian moralising looks like it might continue to have a point you should probably be a little uncomfortable.

So I think...