#i am in awe with how people can be openly evil sometimes

[ryllen]

[olderthannetfic]

Two anecdotes about neutral pronouns.

One: in my previous fandom, there was a vicious person who bullied and dragged people for what they shipped and who was terribly annoying on top of being a horrible human being.

When someone made a post to watch out for them and block, the person mobilized all their followers to harass this person and paint them as a transphobe. Why? Because the callout used 'they', and very clearly, the person had 'it' pronouns in their bio. Obviously, no one read this bio and the person used the most polite version on the internet, which is to call people 'they' by default. This was a gross misuse of power by making people feel like they had to choose between anti-bullying and anti-transphobia to offset responsibility for their actions and was even worse when later on, it was revealed this person was bullshitting all along and was using trans issues to further their goals, as they had changed the pronouns from she to it immediately after the callout.

"You have to do what I say and reality is how I define it" is often true when it comes to respect, but as a community, we have to start facing that it also, on top of genuine people who just want to be respected as themselves, attracts megalomaniacs who want everyone to listen to them and to bend to their every whim: you will dehumanize me or you are evil, and you will abandon your ethics for my entertainment.

A recent anon who likened people who don't use 'it' as it goes against their ethics to actual open transphobes did a good job at chasing away a majority of day to day trans allies this way and displaying how it's not about building bridges and making people understand we are regular people who wish to be seen as regular humans, but about power and control to make folks abandon what they value. It is an argument to defeat one's enemies or vent frustrations in an unhealthy way that harms the trans community for a good chunk of people. I am not surprised that my family, who very openly accepted a new trans member in the family and do their earnest best to correctly gender her, also see the whole 'it' and neopronouns rage for the power play and sense of control over others it is.

Two: in my language, there is a gender neutral way to refer to people that's uncommon in others. We don't have gender neutral pronouns, but we do have a word that means 'that one' and 'that one's' that's practically used in half of the cases when referring to someone, for example, "Have you seen Ben?" "I think that one went to the store." "Hope he's back soon."

In the current context of this blog, people would demand that we stop using our natural language structure because someone might get hurt by being referred to without being gendered just as often as everyone else in the world is. But sometimes, a roundabout way to avoid gendering someone is just exactly that, and not someone being an awful transphobe. By treating trans people the exact same as their cis counterpart, it's more validating and less alienating.

There is a lot more nuance in the world than many claim. Be kind and respectful, but know when someone's taking you for an idiot or a gullible fool they can use as a lackey for their next ego trip.

--

[t4tpumpkinduo]

i would love if you expanded on your vent post sometime because i don't quite understand what you're saying when equating experiencing racism with black and white discourse surrounding c!wilbur either being completely bad and completely good and how people react to that. but it genuinely seems like an important topic to speak on if you ever feel like fully doing so

OK first of all :] ilike how this ask is phrased thank you for bein so niceys abt it. i will do my best to convey this as well as i can imstill pretty frazzled but ido wanna talk about it 👍

specifically i am talking abt the ppl who absolve him of everything or declaw him constantly. like again i do think cwil is a good dude he Is one of my faves. he is just kinda tunnel vision and selfish and in that persuit has done a lotta not great stuff tht gets deliberately ignored or pushed aside, but also the ppl v obsessed w making him some evil malicious one note abuser are like. weird ableist assholes lmao it can be two (✌️) bad things. but im not talking abt Them rn my point is uhm. ok so

i think the way cwilbur uhh ccwilbur that whole bursona thing is has a coat of Whiteness that intersects with things yk? have you heard the term white fave. it's stuff like that. and it especially shines when you compare it to like..how many swaths of ppl treat cquackity in Relation to him, or how many sootbur or oc type body hcs will turn one half of a ship into like..a emotionless brown man accessory to whoever they decided is the dainty pale one. or how ccwil gets truthed so much as "blahblahblah" instead of supporting openly queer or neurodivergent or female creators because it needs to be in a digestible palatable way it needs to be in the vehicle of a guy they are already willing to consume. does that make sense

like look at this ->

in this example uhh,,,ok to use tntduo specifically, yes cquackity Is violent and promiscuous he Is mean and snippy and scowls that's all true and canonical. but you just have to be a little aware of how you interact with things and how it comes across, especially if it's used as a vehicle for a white character. like...if you flanderize quackity and change his motives so he's just an accessory who's whole world revolves around wilbur, if he's turned into an abuser that the ever gentle wonderful poor wifey wilbur is so gracious to continue tolerating, if he's turned into like a sexual object for wilbur to be bossed around by at the cost of like. things tht are literally canonically triggering and awful fr cq. yyr like. racist llmao. and these things are Common as hell they are very common i block and block tags and i still cant get away from it.

white characters and ccs being treated with a different brush that poc characters and ccs is just v v v common and awful and well it sucks out here 👍 i do feel like the way he is talked abt can be loaded with it

[trekwiz]

Followed you after seeing your comment about how ALL christian denominations are fucked and how the ones that try to look progressive just shield the rest from criticism. Its so nice to see someone who gets it, it can be so so so exhausting to try to explain all that shit to people who havent studied christianity and still see it as the "nice, awkward, naive homeschool kid" religion, instead of the extremely dangerous, actively-toxic-to-its-followers-and-their-friends, terrifying death/rape cult that it is.

Anyway i saw you were looking for music recs. It seems dumb to suggest but just in case you havent listened to it, the Mountain Goats' All Hail West Texas album has a similarish vibe and is soooo fucking good. Ummm, Chris Pureka (queer folk artist) has some heart-achingly beautiful folksy stuff. Evan Greer (another queer folk artist) has some fucking kickass stuff that, again, has a very similar vibe. Those three are definitely worth a listen. :)

Honestly, one of the things I regret about my growth as a person was allowing people to convince me that it isn't all denominations, for far too long.

As a teen, I was angry about homophobia and the cause was apparent: Christians never hid that they were behind those atrocities. They were openly taking credit, and yet they were joined by, "no, really, that's just the bad denominations. I belong to a really progressive church."

It was amazing, really. Every Christian I met was one of the good ones. They all belonged to a great church that didn't discriminate. They were accepting. And supportive. I couldn't find the evil ones. Where are they? No one belonged to one of the bad churches. But THEY all know which ones are the bad ones. It's all those "fake Christians" from unspecified denominations. Sometimes it was an "opposing" denomination from theirs. It's all so theoretical.

They were nowhere to be found. And yet, these rare bad ones somehow maintain the political power to prevent our full equality under the law. But if everyone belongs to a good church, how do they control the narrative so well? How is the Christian "sanctity of marriage" argument still such a popular perspective if it's just an almost nonexistent few bad Christians? How did the "grooming" bullshit rise to such prominence again? There are no secular arguments for homophobia. Am I supposed to believe that suddenly the good Christians have lost their voice temporarily? That they're just being drowned out by a small powerless minority that tricked them into voting for their candidates?

And then you spend time with those good ones. They deny that Billy Graham supported conversion therapy while calling for a national holiday to celebrate such a "great man." They're very supportive. Don't you know that your sin of being gay is no worse than their sin of committing murder? It's all the same. And you know, some people genuinely have a problem with us having rights, would it really hurt us if we just compromised and let them punch us five times, instead of six? You confide in one of the really progressive "I like to think of myself as a follower of Jesus, not a Christian, because Christians really do bad things" and they use your distress at the fascist threat as an opening to witness, "Yeah, Christians are awful. But you'd love Jesus. He wouldn't support these behaviors. Isn't he great?"

There isn't a denomination of Christianity that doesn't believe that what we are is immoral. There are some that cushion the language to trick us into spreading the message of our oppressor. But not one treats any LGBT trait as being neutral--as a characteristic that just exists. There's inherently a judgment. The "good ones" are just a sleight of hand meant to trivialize the seriousness of what their religion is doing to us.

And it's unavoidable. You cannot create a sect of Christianity that will be good and peaceful in the world--at least, not without throwing away the very things that define Christianity. The basic structure of the religion is inherently damaging to a person's way of thinking: the absolutely worst, most unforgivable thing you can do is question the existence of Jesus or his inherent goodness. Regardless of denomination, questioning the authoritarian leader is grounds for eternal torture. You cannot have a healthy environment based on that perspective.

The concept of witnessing and missionary work is designed for genocide. The whole premise is to make people in other cultures "accept" that they're inferior, destroy their cultures, and join into Christian culture. It's why, regardless of denomination, that missionary work has always been so bloody--even into the present. Those bodies buried at Canadian church schools aren't that old. You can't view the world that way and end up as a good person. The core of Christianity--the very thing that defines the religion--perfectly resembles a fascist regime.

There are no denominations without these critical flaws. That we're so willing to pretend that there is, is why they came back so strongly after just a couple years of legal defeats. The LGBT-phobic sentiment never went away; it's still mainstream Christian thought. We'll never be able to end our oppression until we stop pretending that Christians have a right to these beliefs.

Regarding music--thank you for the recommendations! And please, no feeling dumb for making a recommendation. It's not obvious but my experience with music is. Well, it feels weird to call it new, but in the scheme of things, it is.

Short story: I learned as an adult that having a heart murmur can really mess up your ability to perform music. Music education in school was very frustrating for reasons that I didn't understand at the time. So I just didn't interact with music in any way at all. I expected it in games and movies, but just listening didn't bring me any joy. And in some ways, I haven't fully shaken that--I like listening on work days where I don't have a ton of meetings; it helps me focus on the tasks. I rarely just listen.

There were 2 things that changed my perspective. I was asked to join an African Percussion group in college (specifically Ewe music from Ghana)--I was learning about live audio for video production, and the instructor had me help them setup their PA system during performances. They ended up inviting me into the group, and I finally got something out of music.

A couple years later, I went to my first Renaissance Faire. And I found I was drawn to the really loud music--the kind that you can physically feel, not just hear. Which was an obvious connection to the percussion music I'd been playing. And I loved it!

That led me to be open to play Guitar Hero and Rock Band when I was invited to, which let me appreciate some more music. But I still prefer the playful kind. I'll take bag rock over rock any day.

So I don't really have a lot of knowledge around music. I don't know a lot of the groups people think would be obvious to know. And I don't really have a lot of language to describe what I like about different kinds of music. And so, despite your preface, feel comfortable: I had never heard of Mountain Goats before.

I will say, the content of the Mountain Goats and Chris Pureka were close to what I was looking for, but the feeling of the music wasn't. I found a couple songs from both that I liked, though, so thanks!

I tend to like really energetic music. I often shorthand to "fast" but I recognize that's not the main defining characteristic, I just don't have better words for it. Evan Greer was pretty much EXACTLY what I was looking for--thank you!

What I liked about the folk song I mentioned, and some of the artist's other work before she outed herself as a bigot, was the "fantasy" setting. Folk music is a genre where I'm less likely to enjoy content about modern life. I mean, most of my favorite music tends to lean towards fantasy/renaissance/scifi. But folk in particular, I like it to reflect a different time--past or future--I live here in this time, so it doesn't feel as interesting. I also liked the power in her voice (I don't have the language for what I'm describing; it's not just the forcefulness of her tone, but the way you know the instruments will never compete for focus against her voice), and the driving energy of the rhythm.

Here are some examples of what I personally would describe as a similar vibe:

March of Cambreath by Heather Alexander; Wanderer's Path by Mythemia; Wake Skadi by Hagalaz' Runedance.

Not quite as comparable, but I would consider Zumbaj by Reliquiae (or, since they seemed to have pulled the song for some reason, Šarena gajda by Rece-Fice zenekar és Bea Palya is a close enough substitute) and Dawson's Christian by Vixy and Tony to be the kind of vibe I'm going for.

(Actually, from that selection, it's probably kind of obvious about how much I enjoyed Evan Greer's work. Again, thank you!)

Though even compared to these, I felt like the song I referenced is still a unique outlier in this company, and I wanted more with that kind of defiant old gods kind of feeling.

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

More angsty S1 YasMoon because they're so!!! THEY'RE SO!!! They're so important to me, you don't understand. I've made them both such rich inner worlds that only exist in my mind but by GOD if I'm not Unwell about the complex, nuanced, and BRUTALLY flawed versions of them that live in my head rent-free ;_____;

Like I am gripped by how many things it re-contextualizes if Yas and Moon were hooking up in Season 1. Like that's why Moon so doggedly remained Yasmine's faithful, right-hand Evil Bitch, despite being a very good-natured person normally. That's why these girls were almost grinding in that one concert video Sam showed Amanda. And that's why their beach party confrontation had enough tension to fill an olympic-sized swimming pool. It was a damn breakup akajndslfkjl

Anyways, I'm hoping I can write some full-length one-shots that delve into this more, but I'm just imagining that during S1 and before, Moon was just...an absolutely hopeless pining mess. Like she did everything for Yasmine and went along with whatever she said in hopes that Yas would eventually love her the same...or at least love her openly. She knew Yas could be sweet and giving in private, but she wanted more than anything to be shown off and flaunted like something to be proud of (part of why she eventually ditched Yas for Hawk! Although he went way too far in the other direction to the point of like. Treating her more like a coolness prize than a person ^^;). Yasmine only ever treated her softly and gently when no one else was looking, and it killed Moon. She hated always feeling like a side piece and an afterthought, and still only ever getting dismissively called "a friend." Or sometimes just a lackey, even if Yasmine wouldn't say it directly. I think finally standing up to Yasmine was just as much about wanting better for herself as well as all the people Yasmine bullied.

Like the way she seems guilty about cutting Sam off and horrified to see Kyler mocking her in front of the entire cafeteria implies she's not really comfortable with all the awful stuff Yas does. And like sure, she could stick with Yasmine out of platonic loyalty or to have a popularity safety net, BUT. Being a Yasmine simp would explain just how much she's willing to tolerate before she kicks Yas to the curb XD And hey, she's canonically got a thing for mean, aggressive people, does she not???

Anyways tl;dr poor Season 1 Moon </3 Girl was in love with Yasmine and I WILL die on that hill. Would explain why she was super high and out of it for a lot of S1, too. Girl was coping (er...not healthily) with her gf a) not admitting she was her gf and b) not cherishing her like she secretly wanted </3 Yasmine fr pushes her lesbianism so far down it may as well collide with the earth's core at this point.

In my heart she accepts it and owns it at some point in the distant future, bless iashluybkh

Big, big fan of that locket on the bottom right, btw. Headcanon Yas gifted it to Moon during S1, but was like "if you ever wear this, you CANNOT tell people I gave it to you lest they think we're... g a y" ;______; Like that's not even the first conclusion people would probably come to anyways, but poor Yas is so paranoid about people suspecting she isn't straight that she feels like she has to shut down anything that could possibly point to that D: Also dying on my hill that she has a more difficult relationship with her parents than she lets on and they're either subtly or openly homophobic, which is why she represses her sexuality so adamantly

As always, pic credits available upon request!

[sunnywalnut]

Yk it never ceases to amaze me how some people will be on the same side of things and yet there will be at least ONE person who instead of calmly questioning the other or explaining their own reasoning, will just go on and attack someone for some made up reason.

Like yeah. I might not have everything worked out completely and I definitely haven't studied thousands of textbooks in my short nineteen years of life, but the moment you call me stupid or a child, you've lost all of my respect.

At that point I don't care on what kind of information you have to offer me or the fact that you might be older.

No. At that point I don't give two shits about what you've got to say.

If you had anything worth saying to begin with, you could have stated it respectfully(as I very much try to do when talking directly to people, online and otherwise. However I can admit that when I am talking in general, I do tend to get fired up and aggressive because again. It's not targeted at anyone. Usually it's targeted at something that I view as unfair. Like people's rights to live and love as who they are).

Honestly, that's one of the reasons I've turned off anon asks. Because my blog has been getting a lot more footwork lately due to my Palestine posts, I've gotten a few people who are aggressive and rude to me. Thankfully, most of the early asks were respectful (even though I don't agree with their view points in the slightest), so I was able to just shut them off and not think about it.

But I worry for what it's like for bigger blogs than my own. For poc and other people who are openly minorities. For people who get flooded with that kind of shit.

To anybody that does deal with that sort of thing, I want to say I'm sorry.

Genuinely.

I know it's not my fault and I didn't make the world this way, but I want to say it because I've got a feeling that people don't hear that as often as they need to.

Some people are fucked up. Some people are angry and aggressive and take it out on others, even if they agree with most of the things you're saying.

Some people will just choose what to argue with you about, even if y'all are on the same "team" you know?

That's not your fault.

It's not your fault for being young, or impressionable, or falling for propaganda or things out of context(because let's be honest. Propaganda is MADE for you to fall for. Nobody's immune to it). The only thing you can really do is make sure you get as much information as you can from multiple CREDIBLE sources, alright?

I'm talking newsletters, podcasts, journalists, word of mouth, and yes, even social media. And not just one view point either. Even the "bad guys." Cause even within a whole group of evil dudes, there's statistically at least ONE guy who's thinking to himself "Man.... This shit don't feel right." And yeah. Sometimes he'll know his shit and be articulate, explaining the ins and outs of what he believes.

And sometimes. He'll word things horribly. And rudely. And he'll say some awful shit in the midst of trying to explain himself.

And yes.

It will be up to you to find value in what he's saying.

Because a picture ain't complete with only one half of it showing. You gotta clear away the dust and grime to get the rest of it.

And I won't lie to you. It's hard work. It's frustrating. It's disheartening. It makes you sick and sad and angry. But it's what you have to do if you want to make the world a better place. Not just for those that "deserve" it. But for everyone around you.

Because no world is going to be truly all "good" if there's still people who are being ostracized because of the way that they've been taught.

Sometimes bad people ain't all that bad.

Sometimes bad people just don't know how to communicate right yet.

And no, you don't have to be the one to teach them. That's something they'll have to learn on their own.

But just look into it a bit, yeah?

It'll do you some good.

Food for thought is all.

Goodnight.

[majoringinsarcasm]

I am ranting again ignore this xo

I will never understand the mindset of “Yeah I started this altercation because I publicly talked shit about you on my public account BUT bc you have a lot of followers and are a legal adult (19) the way you talk to me has to reflect that power imbalance. Yes I made up rumors about you or at the very least didn’t look deeper into the accusations but uhhhh all your followers are quoting my public tweet and I’m 17 so you’re literally harassing a minor and should feel bad about not coming to me privately the way I did not do to you.”

Like. Sure. Older people in fandom bullying teenagers is not something I’m about especially the older I get. But 17 and 19 is Not 17 and 25 I feel like you can’t pull the minor card on someone just bc they’re a popular artist which you Knew when you reposted their art to shit on them.

Like I’d say this rant on Twitter but I’m not close to the artist and this is just me hating so much the way fandom has become this evil competition and how you can say awful shit about people as long as you have less followers or you’re younger. In this case No the “gap” in ages is not enough to justify feeling entitled. Like if you’re gonna shit on someone two years older than you who you Know has a lot of followers…. Like I wonder why they have you blocked if this is how you behave. No one deserves harassment regardless of how popular they are or how many ppl are in their corner. But if I openly talked shit and spread rumors about a popular artists and then people were calling me out in the quotes I wouldn’t turn around and say “

I’m in my twenties and you’re 33 why are you acting like this”

2024 stop bullying and seeing it as justified bc you dislike something that’s not hurting anyone. Stop being mean and rude and thinking it’s fun. Stop using age when you’re only two years apart to claim that there’s some big power imbalance when you are the one who starts the shit. Bc and I cannot state this enough. Being a Legal adult by one year is not the same as being thirty and willingly bullying teenagers. Someone who is 19 is not somehow more powerful than someone who is 17 online. Like ppl have different maturity levels but a bully is a bully and it’s very clear who did something they didn’t need to. In public without censoring the name on the art they reposted.

Like the disconnect between “why did you send your followers who are able to see my public tweet after me you are bullying me”. Like no. People can step out of line and That is not okay. Bc again that’s not cool. But. A public tweet. With art. That has their name in it. They didn’t need to send anyone after you they know who you’re talking about.

Like I’m saying all this as someone who’s been in fandom spaces for a good chunk. Not super long but long enough to see this shift where being openly rude is super normal and when the person who is being shit on claps back it’s always Um I’m younger or Um you have more followers. And sometimes it’s a valid point. Sometimes it’s two teenagers who use Being 18 as some kind of weapon as if the actual age means anything when it comes to Literally and Publicly Bullying a person. I hen I turned 18 I didn’t think or feel any different. Being able to vote or look at porn has no bearing on who it’s ok to harass especially when you’re still in the same age range. Like.

I’m just so tired and it makes me sad to see young people have this kind of mindset in fandom. There are times when things need to be taken seriously and discussed with maturity. But pulling out trump cards AS the bully has been one so normal and it’s like they don’t even care. Being Weird is bad enough to warrant bullying and if you try to combat it you better be the same age and have the same follower count I guess.

[wandering-wolf23]

If thought crime was real - and if writing crimes was the same as committing them - I would be in jail right now. Why? Because I write war stories. I write stories where horrible things happen to bad people and sometimes I write from the bad guy’s POV. Sometimes, I make the bad guy a sympathetic person (because, you know, the historical people I’m basing said bad guy on were normal people who did some awful things. And because I believe that ordinary people who look nice and sweet on the outside can be the most evil).

None of what I do is real. It might be based on real people. I might use real names. But none of what I create is real.

I might have said this a thousand times, but I’m a queer Native American. I am older than America’s laws allowing me to be openly queer. Because I am queer, alt-right assholes call me a pedophile and say I should be executed. Owlvid picks up the fascist line and runs with it. They don’t understand just how fucked this is... or that they’re using lines/dogwhistles from avowed fascists.

At this point, I consider them to be akin to a tankie - a reactionary asshole who worships authority, hates human rights (yes, human rights even for the most awful human ever), and generally a person I would not trust to be on my side during a revolution because they’re fascist lite. In other words, they’re a fake leftist.

Someone showed me this from the owl blog and

Weird fantasy porn is now equivalent to actually planning out a murder

I wish I had this much confidence

[maxwell-grant]

May I please ask what your preferred dynamic between Holmes & Lupin would be? (From what I can tell, the term 'frenemies' might have been invented for these two - if any two characters in fiction WOULD spend all their time trying to one-up each other it's these two, if only their diverse other commitments, challenges & interests left them the free time to do so: I'm also morally certain a sadly-hypothetical Holmes/Lupin team is one of the few things that could bring down Fantomas for Good).

I think "frenemies" is what ultimately works best for these two specifically, because there's a certain untouchability to icons as big as these two that limits the potential stories you can tell with them (although yes, definitely on board with the two having what it takes to bring down Fantomas, although probably not as cleanly and easily as they might expect).

The original Leblanc stories involving this premise are very much centered around one-upmanship, even embracing a theme of national rivalry of England vs France. They acknowledge Holmes's talents but without the awe, with a somewhat aged Holmes with mundane imperfections easily exploited by the daring young thief, someone deserving of his legend but who doesn't quite live up to it. Obviously Lupin's gotta have the upperhand, not just because it's his author writing it, but because the whole point of Lupin's creation was to be the new hotness, the counterpart to both the stuffy old Great Detectives as well as the aristocratic master burglars, and really, what kind of rising superstar would he be if he couldn't put one over the other guy? If he's gonna live up to his claim of being the greatest criminal ever, he's gotta be able to humble the greatest detective at least a little.

The treatment of Watson (Wilson) is tasteless and it's frankly a bit saddening to see that even back then writers were still shitting on Watson far too much, but on the whole I think Leblanc was a lot fairer to Holmes than he could have been (certainly other writers from this time period who added Holmes to their stories were not as fair), he makes it very clear Holmes is not just another Ganimard out of his depth and is very much as close to an equal Lupin's ever had. I think the description used to cap off their final meeting is very much on point:

"You see, monsieur, whatever we may do, we will never be on the same side. You are on one side of the fence; I am on the other. We can exchange greetings, shake hands, converse a moment, but the fence is always there.

You will remain Herlock Sholmes, detective, and I, Arsène Lupin, gentleman-burglar. And Herlock Sholmes will ever obey, more or less spontaneously, with more or less propriety, his instinct as a detective, which is to pursue the burglar and run him down, if possible.

And Arsène Lupin, in obedience to his burglarious instinct, will always be occupied in avoiding the reach of the detective, and making sport of the detective, if he can do it. And, this time, he can do it" - Arsene Lupin vs Herlock Sholmes

The consistent outcome is that Holmes "wins" the material battle while Lupin gets away with the spiritual or karmic victory. The first story, Holmes has Lupin figured out from a glance, robbing him of his greatest asset, and Lupin even tells Holmes under a guise that he has no greater admirer than himself. Holmes choses not to arrest Lupin, and instead solves the mystery as quickly as Lupin would. But he is also, well, inferior. His "commonplace appearence" dissappoints the guests and detectives at the crime scene, he doesn't resemble their expectations, he is gruff, ungracious, arrogant and all-business, an Englishman all the way, and Lupin one-ups him by returning to him his stolen watch, and Holmes is not a good sport about it.

The whole "Herlock Sholmes" name change, although it was out of legal obligation, almost reads like a cheeky courtesy of Leblanc, like he's giving Holmes enough of a courtesy in sparing him the embarassment of being the loser. And the following adventures stay consistent: Sholmes is smart, as smart as Lupin, and he's a gentleman. But he isn't as smart as he thinks he is, and he isn't as much of a gentleman as Lupin. He resorts to unsporting tactics like intimidating Lupin's lover and involving the police in their conflict, and in the end, he's solved the crime, but "sown the seeds of discord" in a family Lupin was protecting, becoming the villain for a change, a role reversion Lupin openly laughs at. Holmes wins the "loot", he wins the material battle, but Lupin has the last laugh, and despite being a self-proclaimed villain, Lupin gets the moral victory.

It's a quite unflattering view of Holmes and one perhaps not suited for a crossover outside of the specific context of Holmes being the old and stuffy intruder in an Arsene Lupin story. Then again, every great hero needs a lesson in humility every now and then.

There's a particularly interesting variant of this dynamic to be found within China's own takes on Sherlock Holmes and Arsene Lupin.

Sherlock Holmes was quite the breakout hit for Chinese audiences at the time of his release, revered as an alternative to Judge Bao and the court-case novels. It's estimated that from 1903 to 1909, detective fiction constituted over almost 50% percent of all Western translated fiction, and with Holmes followed others like Nick Carter and Charlie Chan, and then Arsene Lupin, and soon their own local versions. The most famous and popular of which was Huo Sang, created by Cheng Xiaoqing, who was one of the main translators for Conan Doyle's stories. Cheng Xiaoqing even wrote his own take on Sherlock Holmes vs Arsene Lupin called "The Diamond Necklace", intending on correcting Leblanc's take, although interestingly, he unintentionally recreates the exact outcome by giving Holmes an unsporting attitude, where he "wins" only because Lupin lets him, and Lupin gets away again with the moral high ground. He would fare off much better in correcting Holmes with his own character, Huo Sang.

Huo Sang has a lot of similarities to Holmes, even with his own Watson counterpart, but was also designed to represent a few more traditional Chinese values. He is a science teacher with no addictions who belittles the wealthy class and fights for the poor, and he is praised for humility, one story even making a point to criticize Holmes for arrogance. He is a very Westernized character, with suits and guns and cigarettes galore, but the books were very dictatic and the author marketed them as "disguised textbooks for science", playing up on a newfound social reverence to scientific methods and self-improvement and national rejuvenation.

The stories deal heavily with corruption of the police force and institutions. In the earlier stories he outright calls police detectives useless rice buckets only good for solving petty thefts and preying on those that can't defend themselves, and while they become less sinister in later stories, Huo Sang's relation with law enforcement is much more frayed than Holmes's own. He uses dirty police tactics of his own and sometimes takes the law into his own hands, thinking the law cannot possibly achieve justice on it's own. His biggest loyalty is to his country and he values his reputation above all else. He values justice more than the law, like Holmes. But like Holmes, he still prefers to work inside the law and within Chinese traditions.

"Bao Lang, you scholar, you're too idealistic. Don't you realize how weak the law is in modern society? Privilege and power, favors and money - the law has all these deadly enemies

"We investigate half to slake our thirst for knowledge, half out of duty to serve and uphold justice. In the realm of justice, we are never constrained by the wooden and unfeeling law. For in this society, which is gradually tending to surrender its core to material things, the spirit of the rule of law cannot be put into general practice, and the weak and ordinary people are aggrieved, more often than not unable to enjoy the protection of the law.

Lu Ping, as you'd expect from a counterpart to Lupin, was much different. In fact, right in his very first story, he was already pitted against Huo Sang and outsmarting him, in a story called "Wooden Puppet Play". The character is inspired by an already existing tradition within Chinese literature of the "chivalrous thief", shapeshifting masters of deception and martial arts, and considered admirable and benevolent opposite to the corrupt government officials they outwit.

His stories are more whimsical, energized, more varied, less dedicated to strict science. He whistles while committing crimes, is identifiable by a red tie and wooden puppets he uses to signal his goons on what outfit he's gonna be wearing, and even cracks asides to the reader. In many aspects Lu Ping is influenced by hard-boiled Western detective stories, and naturally, he has a much more contemptious view of the law than Huo Sang

Well then, was he willing, in his capacity as thief, to represent the sanctity of the law and catch the murderer? Yes, he would be quite happy to round up that murderer. But he wasn't at all willing to boost the reputation of the law. He'd always felt that the law was only something like an amulet that certain smart guys had fabricated to get them out of embarassing situations.

Such an amulet migh be good for scaring away idiots, but it oculdn't threaten the violent, crafty and arrogant evil ones. Not only could it not scare them away, a lot of them hid right behind it to work their evil tricks!

Conflicts between these two are not just rooted in one-upsmanship or the patriotic conflict between the two, but instead in two differing approaches to justice, their influence on fellow Chinese writers to step outside tradition, and the respective ways they address issues in society. Additionally, it's not just a conflict between Great Detective vs Gentleman Villain, but the Holmesian Detective and the Hardboiled Detective. And, naturally, when the two met, a pattern reocurred again.

Writing a Lu Ping tale in his usual manner, Sun Liaohong deprives the detective of the advantage he typically enjoys at the hand of Cheng Xiaoqing or any other follower of Conan Doyle - narration by the detective's coadjutor.

It is Huo Sang who slinks around like a thief, alarming hotel service personnel. He becomes rattled, and even so is vain and arrogant. He is a bit too positivist about searching for clues, and he spends a remarkable amount of time just relaxing and waiting for something to happen.

The figure of "wooden puppets" turns wicked when the author uses the term to refer to Huo Sang, Bao Lang, and the police. Satirizing the genre as a play in which the author woodenly manipulates his character. But Lu Ping as puppet is a genius, moving from one identity to another, whereas Huo Sang is a dumbbell - wooden indeed, bourgeois, ridiculed.

A gentleman's agreement occurs only at the end. Huo Sang has the formal victory. He frees Lu Ping in order to get the paining, but the exhibition is held a day late and it now bears Lu Ping's seal.

In wartime, peace talks, diplomacy and gentlemen's agreements are just smoke screens, the stuff of puppetry. Both Huo Sang and Lu Ping surround themselves with lies to reach their final accomodation. Perhaps they are both puppets - Chinese Justice, the Fiction: Law and Literature in Modern China, by Jeffrey C. Kinkley

Both characters were canned in 1949 when the CCP banned detective fiction, and it was replaced with anti-spy literature about how the party police would expose counterrevolutionary conspiracies. They never got to have a rematch, and to my understanding there were a couple of films made afterwards about them, Huo Sang had a very recent one in 2019, but never another meeting.

I guess the takeaway here time and time again is that, credit to Holmes and all, but:

[butwhatifidothis]

I also think that part of the reason why the church gets so much hate is because of how much general distrust there is in organized religion in real life. Like I went into Three Houses trying to keep an open mind and during White Clouds I really couldn't see what was so heinously wrong with the church even during the Lonato thing that made the institution so much worse than what Edelgard was inciting. I could be totally wrong but I was under the impression that Rhea didn't squash the insurrection because they were a part of the Western Church but because they were actively rebelling and, on top of that, Lonato was bringing civilians into the conflict. That, along with the fact that Rhea knows for an absolute fact that the goddess existed and that she herself is old as dirt (trauma included) makes her decisions make a lot of sense.

I'm playing through AM with my friend who's never played before and they IMMEDIATELY said they distrusted the church because Jeralt doesn't like Rhea (for understandable reasons but my friend also ignored his very sus behavior of not explaining literally anything to Byleth) and because organized religions must be inherently bad.

It’s something that’s heavily related to a player’s inability to separate the reality of their specific circumstances with those of the fiction they’re consuming. They implant their experiences onto things that are only somewhat related and then extrapolate “facts” about the fiction that are, many times, actively shut down and/or disproven by that fictions lore or story or plot.

And, like, it’s normal to relate fictional things to your personal stories if you see connections to them. I’d wager a good amount of people find some aspect of a character they like/love that sticks out to them specifically because of a similarity they share of some kind, whether big or small. I know of people who’s fave superhero is The Flash because The Flash is fast and they ran track and hey, that’s cool, a superhero who’s ability is running really fuckin’ fast and I wanna be really fuckin’ fast. To use myself as an example, I can relate to the struggles Claude specifically has with race because many of the things he says correlate very well to my personal experiences with race. So, going by that line of logic, the opposite is clearly going to happen as well; there are many villains, or characters of either or neither allegiance towards good and evil, who have traits that personally affect someone in a negative way.

But here’s the thing about that... Claude and I have similar experiences with race. He’s still a prince, and I’m still someone who’s never seen above the poverty line in terms of income. He’s never had to live off a box of Whoppers he happened to find under his bed for three days to hold off until the food stamps come in because there’s just no food and no money to get any food. And on the flip side, I’ve never had people try to kill me just cuz I’m mixed. I’ve never felt the pressure of having to lead thousands of people to safety or have them die, directly due to my inability to lead them well enough. We still have extremely different lives and I can acknowledge those differences when looking into his character, regardless of whatever connection I may have with him otherwise, and that’s where these people fail in terms of critically consuming 3H as a piece of media.

These people - understandably, to an extent - look at Rhea, this devout religious woman who heads a major religious institution, and they automatically connect the language she uses as a devout religious person to the negative experiences they personally had with religion... without acknowledging the differences between the two. They see Rhea and they don’t see a bisexual who surrounds herself with and gives shelter to former criminals, foreigners, and people in need of a home while asking for little in return - they see their local pastor, or some other religious leader/person, who’ve done them wrong, and thus Rhea hates gay people, she hates POC, she’s a zealot and unreasonable and she’s this terrible person with no redeeming qualities. And this isn’t me arm-chair psychology-ing these people - they poke fun at themselves about how much they let their personal experiences cloud their judgement of the game and its characters with bingo cards for liking Edelgard having “raised with religion” be one of the slots and things like that. 

And really, why else would “religious institution led by white-presenting race of people” be automatically turned into “racist, homophobic, misogynistic, and violent to any who aren’t their religion” when 1) one of the main characters - the one calling Rhea racist - himself eventually says that racial diversity fits well and snug in the Seiros faith, 2) not only is the leader and founder of the religion a bisexual woman, but no one says anything about having their love be confined to one specific gender anywhere, with heavily coded LGBT relationships like Shamir+Catherine and Dorothea+Petra being just as LGBT coded in SS - where Rhea can potentially come back as archbishop - as anywhere else - hell, when one of the most devout followers of Rhea clearly is romantically interested in her and faces no repercussions or consequences for openly being so despite being female herself, and 3) the Church only ever uses violence when either called from the outside for help or forced to when outside forces try to attack them? Why are we hearing all of these awful things about the Church when it sometimes is never even implied? 

It’s in large part due to religion being such a sensitive part of people’s lives that they are unable to disconnect their personal experiences with religion with the fictional religion the media they’re interacting with provides them. Rhea, as a devout religious leader, especially with how genuinely morally gray she is, was never going to land well over here in the west, double especially to an audience of people that very clearly are already inclined to ignore pieces of the game’s story, lore, plot, and character interactions to fit their own preferred version of what’s happening. Triple fuckin’ wombo-combo especially since the game itself fails to do Rhea any favors until the literal last second of two out of four routes and only shove in her directly admitting she was wrong in her actions in the hardest support chain to build up in the entire game, and even then only at the last part of it. Poor girly didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell

[qqueenofhades]

Okay, y'all. Time to do this one more time. Let the fact that there are so many of these posts right now reinforce the point. Many of you already know this, and I see and love you, but for anyone still ~undecided about their choice, should they be an American citizen of voting age on November 3, 2020:

Time to not be. It was time a long, long while ago, but I am going to have to say it again.

Primary season is over. The endless fine-tooth combing of candidates' policies and positions is over. We are all deeply well aware that the candidates on the Democratic ticket, being human beings and establishment politicians, are flawed. "BUT WHAT ABOUT THIS POSITION FROM 19/ 20-WHENEVER AS JUSTIFICATION FOR WHY IT'S TERRIBLE TO VOTE FOR -- "

No. Stop. Just stop. Stop threatening to hold the rest of us hostage, in the middle of a pandemic, the Great Depression, and racial inequality and protests on a scale not seen from the 1960s, because you did not get Barbie Dream Candidate. That is the behavior of terrorists and toddlers. If your supposedly enlightened morally pure ideology does not involve any action to mitigate the harm that is directly in front of you, it isn't worth a shit as an ideology actually devoted to helping people. If your approach to politics is to shout about how Pure your ideas are on twitter and tear down anyone working within a system of flawed choices to do the good that they can: you're not helping, and frankly, your constant threats to withhold your suffrage as a punishment to us aren't convincing the rest of us that we really need to listen to you or that you have anyone's best interests at heart. The Online Left TM is as much a vacuous, self-reinforcing noise chamber as the Online Right TM, and can sometimes tend to be even more dangerous.

I was saying this in 2016. A lot of us were saying this in 2016. I am just about to turn 32 years old and have been voting in federal elections for almost 15 years. For what it's worth.

This is not an ordinary election. This is not a contest between two flawed candidates who respect the system and want to work to enact their policies in the ordinary way. One is a flawed 90s era Democrat who nonetheless has already been pushed CONSIDERABLY left in his policies and platforms since the end of the primaries (and his existing platform would already make him the most left president elected, even more than Obama). The other is a fascist dictator who has openly spoken about refusing to accept the election results, his desire to abolish term limits and serve for life, and complete the pillaging of any remaining fragile American public funds for him and his cult of cronies. He does not respect the system. He does not want to do anything for anyone that is not himself. 160,000 and counting needless deaths of American citizens have already happened. Will keep happening.

This is the last time Trump has to face voters. This is the last chance the country has to repudiate his entire poisonous ideology and its marching Nazi minions. IF he steps aside, which is already far from guaranteed, he can ride off into the sunset as a vindicated two term president and probably be rehabilitated like George W. Bush was within a few years of leaving office. American political memory is very short. It will happen. Again, if he even leaves.

RBG is 87 and has cancer again. She will NOT survive another four years. Stephen Breyer is 81. Their seats could both come up in the next four years. The Supreme Court could be a right wing rubber stamp for whatever time we all have left before climate change and coronavirus kill us all.

"But if people just thought for themselves and did their homework and didn't vote the party line like sheep, we could support a third party/write in -- " Stop. Just stop. Attend a ninth grade civics class and learn about how politics work in America. Yes, the two-party system sucks. Yes, the Electoral College is a hot steaming pile of absolute bullshit. Magical unicorn fairy dust fantasies WILL NOT change that.

Do not vote for Kanye (who has pretty much openly admitted he is trying to play spoiler to Biden on behalf of his buddy Trump). Do not vote for godforsaken fucking Gary Johnson or Jill Stein who appear on ballots just to give sanctimonious leftists the illusion of virtue-signaling. If you want any chance of fixing the mess that 2020 has left America and the world in, you need to vote for Joe Biden and Kamala Harris. The end.

Biden is a flawed old man who was our last choice, sure. He is also a distinguished public servant who has already been in the White House for eight years under Obama and thus we KNOW what to expect. He is an empathetic man who connects with people's personal tragedy and picked as his running mate a younger Black/biracial woman who directly confronted and called him out on past behavior. While the pundit class was simpering and whining about how it was Disrespectful and how could he consider her, Biden did so, and that speaks well to me of the fact that he is willing to learn, to take criticism, and not just accept it from a former Black female rival, but make her his second in command and the potential first female president of the United States.

Can you EVER picture Trump doing that? Not in eight thousand million years.

As for Kamala, we are all aware of her previous checkered history as a prosecutor (and even then, she did plenty of good things as well!). Since joining the Senate, however, she has consistently become one of its most progressive members. She is the co-sponsor of an economic aid package designed to give every American $2,000/month, backdated to March (the start of the coronavirus pandemic) and continuing at least a few months after its end. A Biden-Harris White House could make that happen. Especially if they are put into office with a Democratic House and Senate (for the love of God, Kentucky, kill Mitch McConnell with fire). That is just one example.

Harris's nomination is obviously historic. And Biden didn't choose another Biden (or another Tim Kaine, the blandest white man imaginable). He chose another Obama: a younger rising star of an immigrant background, a person of color, a former lawyer and someone who represents the diversity of the country that the white supremacists and the Cheeto in Chief have tried to paint as its worst and most degenerate evil.

A vote for Biden and Harris means getting rid not just of Trump, but Mike Pence, Vladimir Putin, Jared Kushner, Betsy Devos, the Trump crony destroying the Postal Service, the rampant coronavirus misinformation and bullshit, the destruction of Social Security and Medicare, the spread of Nazi propaganda from the President's twitter account, the likely two Supreme Court picks that would be as bad as Brett Kavanaugh or worse... on and on. Biden and Harris would be elected by progressive voters and thus answerable to them in 2022 midterms and 2024 general. They can both be, and already have been, pushed further left. They are reasonable and competent adults who have demonstrated experience and compassion. I KNOW about their flaws and past actions I don't agree with. But I'm frankly done with any more counterproductive straw man bitching about This One Bad Thing They Did and how it makes it a terribad awful choice to vote for them. Open your eyes. Look at the alternative. LOOK AT WHAT HAS ALREADY HAPPENED AND THE FACT THAT THIS IS NOT EVEN AS BAD AS IT COULD STILL GET.

Check your registration or register at vote.gov.

DO NOT LOOK AT POLLS AND DECIDE "EH BIDEN IS CLEARLY GOING TO WIN, I DON'T NEED TO VOTE." THAT IS HOW WE LOST LAST TIME.

Unseating incumbents is HARD. It is even harder when the other side has openly laid out their plan to cheat in great detail, and there is nothing really stopping them from doing it. The only thing, in fact, is massive, unfalsifiable results on an undeniable scale.

So:

Vote.

Vote for Joe Biden and Kamala Harris.

Thanks a lot.

[aceofwhump]

Hi Ace! One of my OCs is a AroAce character- I was wondering if you have any tips on how to write them. As a member of the LGBT community, I don't wanna offend the AroAce community. Thanks! <3

Hi nonny! First of all I love that you're writing an aroace character!!! That's awesome!! There are so few of them in media we need all the rep we can get! You're awesome! And secondly, thank you for asking! This is an excellent question and thank you for being considerate and asking it.

Disclaimer: all aroaces are different and our experiences are all different. These things are just my opinion and are based on my own experiences as an aroace.

I highly encourage any other aroace reading this to chime in with their own thoughts and feelings on the matter because the more voices the better!

Under a readmore for length:

The first thing I wanna talk about is bad representation we currently have in the ace/aro/aroace community and why it is bad and then showing you good representation and why it is good.

Now aroaces hardly have any representation AT ALL so any rep is welcome. Most of the ace/aro rep we do have is either terrible or not even canon confirmed. That said, there are good ways of representing asexuality and aromanticism and there are bad ways.

Bad rep we currently have includes characters like Sheldon Cooper, Sherlock from the BBC series, House M.D., Riverdale's Jughead Jones, and Shadowhunters Raphael Santiago.

These are bad for the following reason:

Sheldon and Sherlock are both implied to be unfeeling, rude, and not human. They are constantly made fun of and are being told they are weird or inhuman simply because they don't have sex or date.

House falls under the "asexuality is a disease that can be cured or fixed" trope. Do not fall into this trope!!! I think House says, and I quote, "the only people who don’t want [sex] are either sick, dead, or lying.” DON'T DO THIS!

Sometimes characters spend the show/movie having their sexuality questioned and then they have sex or date and suddenly they're "normal"! This happened with Sheldon who started dating Amy and they had sex and the show was like "see look at how normal they are now! regular couple! see they wanted to have sex the whole time!" Fuck that.

Shadowhunters was great at making Raphael asexual but they erased his aromanticism and then never mentioned or brought up his sexuality ever again.

Both the creators of Riverdale and BBC Sherlock have said that asexuality is boring to write for. Pisses me off. Now I'm going to be brief about Riverdale here for a moment even though I can spend days ranting about how much this show pisses me off. Jughead Jones is asexual aromantic and Riverdale went "Nah that's boring. We changed it. Now he's neither." I think the quote he said was "“there are fresher ways to tell [the] story.” Don't do this.

I'm adding one more point here. A lot of times the aromantic characters are the evil ones. Implying that aromantics are evil because we "don't feel love". (i mean half of why Voldemort is evil is because he doesn't feel love. thank JKR)

On the flip side, some good ace/aro rep (not necessarily aroace) includes Todd Chavez (ace but not aro), Voodoo from Sirens (ace but not aro), and Jughead Jones (not the god awful Riverdale Jughead. I'm talking about he comics Juggy who is aroace and awesome)

All these characters talk openly about their sexuality, don't "change their minds", are given full and interesting plots, aren't forced into sex or relationships, and don't fall under terrible tropes. They are good characters to look at for good rep. They aren't perfect (none of them are perfect representation) but for the rep we do have these are the best in my opinion.

The other way I wanted to answer this is by talking about a few reminders of things to think about while writing.

Remember that AroAces are:

Capable of feeling love. we are not robots. we feel love and are capable of expressing love. we love our friends, our family, our partners, etc.

Try and avoid the "aromantic/asexual/aroace character is an unfeeling robot or an alien" trope. It implies we're inhuman, incapable of feelings. That's not true at all.

Both asexuality and aromanticism are spectrums. we all experience things differently. Some aces are cool with having sex, some aren't. Some aros are in a relationship or want to be in one, some don't want anything to do with it. We're all different.

Asexuality is a lack of sexual attraction

Aromanticism is a lack of romantic attraction

know and understand the definitions. this is the only "requirement". There are other identities that fall under the Ace and Aro umbrellas and it might benefit you to explores those as well. Like demi and grey asexual/aromantic.

Our reasons for having sex or entering into a romantic relationship can be different from Allo's but that doesn't mean they aren't just as valid.

Speaking for myself, I as an aroace place a higher priority on my friendships and family because of my lack of sexual and romantic attraction.

Okay this got sooo long. I'll end it there.

Take some time and really explore your character. Ask yourself where do they fall in the spectrum of AroAce? How do they feel about sex and romance? Do you plan on saying in text the words "asexual aromantic" or are you leaning towards impying it? If you're going to imply it (which is fine) make sure it's obvious and think about how you're going to show their aroaceness. Familiarize yourself with the definitions of asexuality and aromanticism. They are separate identities even if we just call ourselves aroace. They each come with different things so take some time to look into that.

If you run into any problems and have any questions about asexuality, aromanticism, or what it's like being aroace please come on back and ask! I am happy to talk about whatever in order to help!

[ibijau]

Nobody asked for it, but let me interest you in an extra for the Age Reversal AU

Lan Xichen struggles with the song that killed Nie Mingjue, and takes steps toward reconciling with his brother (warning for some mental instability, and for some brief suicidal thoughts)

The song never stops.

It gets quieter sometimes, when there are other noises around, when Lan Xichen focuses on other musics, when conversations get loud enough, but it never stops.

In silence, the unending melody rises high and loud, constantly reminding him of the worst day of his life, making it near impossible to fall asleep or concentrate. Lan Xichen has barely meditated since he first awoke after the attack. He has barely slept without the help of medication as well.

The song never leaves him alone.

Lan Xichen thought, briefly, that it had gotten under control when he went to see Nie Huaisang in the Unclean Realm. It's always noisy there, there's always people shouting, sparring, chatting. There's Nie Huaisang's birds. There's even Nie Huaisang himself, who snores even if he denies it, and even that managed to cover the song, at least long enough for Lan Xichen to fall asleep.

But in the Unclean Realm there was also the shadow of Nie Mingjue everywhere Lan Xichen looked.

Lan Xichen saw his dead friend in every corner, heard his laugh, felt his presence.

After a month there, Lan Xichen could hardly even look at Nie Huaisang anymore without noticing how much he looked like his brother after all. They have the same eyes, which Lan Xichen never realised before, and though he's had little cause to see it on Nie Huaisang during his visit, they have the same smile as well.

It is unbearable, and unlike the song, Lan Xichen can do something about that.

So after Nie Huaisang and him finish preparing their plan to denounce Jin Guangyao and have him pay for his crimes, Lan Xichen goes home.

It's a mistake.

After the constant cacophony of the Unclean Realm, the silence of the Cloud Recesses is a constant torture. The song rises higher than ever, inescapable, driving him half mad. His uncle notices, of course, but cannot do anything about it.

Lan Wangji too notices, and tries to express concern on afternoon when he visits his brother in the house Lan Xichen still shares with their uncle.

It's too late for that, Lan Xichen tells him. Lan Wangji's concern was needed years ago, when a madman launched evil spirits and fierce corpses at every sect to slaughter them. Lan Wangji made his choice then, and Lan Xichen isn't about to forget that.

Lan Wangji takes in his rage with nothing more than faint sadness.

“I made choices that day,” he agrees, reaching out to take his brother's hand. “I am making choices now too.”

Lan Xichen moves his hand away before Lan Wangji can touch him. Pain flashes on his brother's face, and it must be intense indeed to show so openly, however briefly, but Lan Xichen doesn't care.

“I want to help,” Lan Wangji insists.

“You don't even know what's wrong,” Lan Xichen retorts, the song rising higher again, as it does when he's angry.

He nearly drowns in it.

It's tempting sometimes to let it submerge him, to just give in, to give up. Lan Xichen is exhausted beyond anything he thought possible and he just wants it to end. Just wants the song to leave him alone.

It won't until he's dead.

Lan Xichen has thought about that a lot lately, especially since coming back to the Cloud Recesses. Sometimes, when the melody gets too loud, he feels half ready to do whatever it takes to make it stop. Anything would be better than this song. Anything, so long as his mind can be silent again. Anything...

But he can't die. Lan Xichen is the only person to have witnessed Nie Mingjue's murder, the only person to know that cursed song. He has to last at least until justice prevails.

He can't die anyway because Nie Huaisang will be alone again, truly alone this time, and Lan Xichen still feels sick to his bone when he remembers how the man he loves looked when he first arrived to the Unclean Realm to tell him what really happened to Nie Mingjue. Just a broken shell, much like Lan Xichen feels as well. They'll never be together the way they wanted to be, not anymore, but Lan Xichen can't abandon him either, can't make Nie Huaisang face all this alone.

But it's so hard, the song never leaves him alone.

It's so hard.

He just wants it to stop.

Lan Xichen blinks, and realises that he's started crying. Not only that, but he's no longer sitting stiffly. He's curled up on his brother's lap, clinging to him the way he used to do when he was little, when Lan Wangji was everything to him, when he still thought brothers were people one could trust.

It's rare for Lan Wangji to touch anyone. Even when they were young, Lan Xichen knew his desperate need for physical affection was in conflict with his brother's distaste for it. But Lan Wangji never once pushed him away back then, and apparently even pulled him into his arms this time.

It makes Lan Xichen sob harder, loud enough to almost hide the song.

He is so tired.

“Tell me how to help,” Lan Wangji quietly asks, petting his hair gently, pulling him closer until Lan Xichen can nearly pretend that he no longer despises his brother for his betrayal.

“You can't,” Lan Xichen sobs. “Nobody can. It's so quiet here, it's always quiet.”

“Hm. The quiet is bad?”

Lan Xichen nods weakly.

“Do you want me to play music for you?” Lan Wangji offers.

The idea is so unbearable that Lan Xichen tears himself away from his brother's tight embrace, his eyes round with terror as he shakes his head hurriedly.

It's different, of course it's different, but it's too similar as well. A brother, a calming melody...

Lan Xichen can't bear it.

Lan Wangji looks more concerned over his panicked reaction. Lan Xichen knows that when he leaves, his brother will go ask their uncle to explain to him what happened. Lan Qiren will refuse, because they've agreed that they still don't know how much they can trust Lan Wangji, not yet, not until he's proven that what he did in Nightless City was only a lapse in judgment.

It's awful to be keeping secrets from him. Lan Xichen resents him for this as well, because he misses being able to trust his own brother.

He misses being able to trust anyone at all.

After everything that has happened, Lan Xichen doesn't know how to trust anymore. Even Nie Huaisang... he almost didn't tell him about what happened that day, fearful that Nie Huaisang was part of the plot, that he'd gotten a taste for power after all. It would have contradicted everything Lan Xichen thought he knew about the other man, but in a world where Lan Wangji could leave him behind and save Wei Wuxian, where Jin Guangyao could use Lan songs to murder their little brother... Lan Xichen doesn't know what he knows anymore.

“Hm. No music,” Lan Wangji promises, reaching out for his hand again. This time, Lan Xichen allows it, too exhausted to resist. If he dared, he'd fall again into his brother's arms. He doesn't dare. “But silence bothers you?” Lan Wangji insists.

Lan Xichen nods.

“I will put you on duty with the children,” Lan Wangji offers. “The young ones. They never stay quiet.”

“I don't have the patience for them,” Lan Xichen confesses. Then, having admitted to this much, he adds. “I don't sleep well, it makes me unsuited for most duties.”

Lan Wangji doesn't insist, for which Lan Xichen is grateful. Gossip is forbidden but he's heard whispers, people saying he should be recovered now, that he's lazy for not resuming his old duties, that he's making excuses, that he's like his father, like his brother, trying to run from his obligations, trying to...

“Tomorrow, you spend the day with me,” Lan Wangji decides. “I have classes, and meetings with petitioners. There will be as much noise as can be found in the Cloud Recesses.”

“I cannot, I have to...”

“You are unwell,” Lan Wangji states in a tone that allows no objection. “You have been unwell for a long time. Until you are better, measures must be taken to help you. If silence is unbearable to you, we will find ways to avoid it.”

Against his will, Lan Xichen feels tears gathering at the corner of his eyes again which he fights to contain.

He used to wonder if Lan Wangji would hate them after his punishment. If his brother would hate him. He must have hated him all along, to chose a murderer over him.

It might have been easier if Lan Wangji did hate him, because then everything would make sense at least.

“If it is easier to you, return to Qinghe,” Lan Wangji continues. “Or go to Lanling to see your other sworn brother.”

Lan Xichen flinches. “No. No, I'm not going back there.”

“To Qinghe?” Lan Wangji asks, a visible frown on his face.

“To Lanling. Don't ask why.”

Immediately, Lan Wangji relaxes somewhat. He's never been fond of the Jins to begin with, and this whole business with Wei Wuxian didn't help. Lan Xichen feels half sure that his brother would try to help if he knew about Jin Guangyao, just to avenge Wei Wuxian.

It certainly wouldn't be to avenge Nie Mingjue, whom people say helped kill Wei Wuxian. It might be true, or it might not. Even Lan Xichen never got the truth out of him. Nie Mingjue refused to talk about that day, though he looked haunted by it sometimes, the same way Lan Xichen remains haunted by the song, by the absence of his best friend, his sworn brother.

“I don't want to go to Qinghe either,” he whispers, curling up on himself without noticing. “It's too sad now.”

“We can invite Nie Huaisang,” Lan Wangji offers. “To discuss matters that have to be handled in person.”

“I don't think he wants to see you,” Lan Xichen counters with a grimace. Nie Huaisang is many things, but he isn't forgiving.

Lan Xichen might someday let go of what happened in Nightless City, but he doubt Nie Huaisang ever will, least of all now that Nie Mingjue is dead.

“True,” Lan Wangji admits. “You would have to entertain him and lead negotiations on my behalf.”

There's a slight glint in Lan Wangji's eyes as he says that, something that Lan Xichen knows means his brother is amused. He must know, then. Lan Xichen hasn't told him about the plans he had with Nie Huaisang, and he knows Lan Qiren won't have spoken of them either... but they've both forgotten how observant he can be. After three years, they've forgotten a lot.

Lan Xichen wonders, briefly, if his brother would have noticed what Jin Guangyao was planning. It is not a train of thoughts he wants to linger on, fearing it will make him resentful again. Things happened the way they did, there's nothing to be gained in wishing to change the past.

“I don't think Nie Huaisang would accept the invitation,” Lan Xichen remarks. “He's... busy.”

“Too busy for you?”

“He has a lot to do.”

Lan Wangji's frown return, but he does not insist. Lan Xichen would not have explained anyway. For a brief moment, silence falls between them, giving the song a chance to return, haunting and taunting. It doesn't last though. Before long, Lan Wangji, who never says three words if two are enough, starts talking again, asking about Lan Xichen's day, about his duty, telling him about the rabbits. None of it is of particular interest, but Lan Wangji speaks anyway, just to keep the silence at bay.

Lan Xichen finds himself grateful for that effort, even if the song returns with a vengeance the second he is alone again.

He has lost a lot, but he might not have lost his brother after all.

[demoisverysexy]

An Open Letter to the Person who Blocked Me for Being Mormon

For context:

If you’re reading this, I hope it finds you well.

This letter is mostly for me, so I can get my feelings out. I’ve already talked about this with a few of my friends, and I’m feeling better than I was than when you blocked me. I’m still upset. Mostly because of general trends I see on tumblr of hatred for Mormons. A lot of it comes from ignorance and misunderstanding. Some of it comes from a place of genuine hurt that can’t go unaddressed. I don’t want to be dismissive of those who have faced trauma at the hands of my church. I am one of those people, and I know how deeply pain associated with my church can be. After our interaction, I felt that talking about it would help me process this.

Before I go on, I must be clear that this is not an attempt to get you to unblock me. As nice as it would be to be able to see your blog again – you’re very witty, and I enjoy your content! – I can live without it. This is more a response to the trend on tumblr specifically of hatred against Mormons, and assuming that they’re all bad people who are complicit in every single bad thing that the church does. You just happened to force me to be a little introspective about my church and my relation to it. Thank you for that.

First, however, I would like to clear up some misconceptions:

Your initial joke that prompted me to tell you I was a Mormon was a joke about Mormons and polygamy. The largest two organizations that can be classified as “Mormon,” The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints and the Community of Christ (which incidentally allows for gay marriage and has female clergy, though I am of the LDS sect), both disavow polygamy. There are other, smaller offshoot Mormon groups who do still practice this, which is where horror stories of polygamists marrying teenagers arise. These people are also Mormons, though I wish they weren’t, in the same way that problematic Christian groups are Christian, though many Christians wish they weren’t.

I do recognize that mainstream Mormonism has been labeled as a cult by many people, though the reasons people provide generally don’t hold up. Often the proof that people provide of my church’s cult-like nature is to take note of corruption that can be found in almost every church. These issues – such as racism, homophobia, and misogyny, to name a few – while real and important to address do not a cult make. Sometimes the proof is to point towards practices that are demonized in my church, but are practiced in other religions with no comment, or even celebration. Other times people will point to their own experiences with toxic church congregations, and while those issues are very real, they are by no means universal. My experience growing up Mormon was a lucky one in many ways. I personally don’t think that most people who study my church from an academic vantage point would call it a cult. I would consult them on this matter. After all, someone in a cult is rather hard-pressed to be able to tell whether they are in one or not.

Another point often levied against Mormonism is how it leaves its queer members with religious trauma due to its homophobic teachings. I understand this well. I have experienced deep religious trauma associated with my political stances in favor of LGBTQ+ rights (though that wasn’t the whole story). I won’t go into detail about this right now, but suffice it to say, I had a very traumatic time on my mission that led me to a very dark place, and ended with me contemplating choices I would never be able to take back. I’m fine now of course, but I carry those memories with me.

So why would I stay despite all this? Is it because I’m brainwashed? You would have to ask a psychologist about that, but I would say probably not. I knew, and know now, that the ways I was being treated were unfair and wrong. I don’t have time to go point by point to address every grievance I or anyone else has with my church and explain my position on it, as much as I would like to clear the air once and for all on this topic so there is no misunderstanding. Here’s the reasoning that has kept me here so far:

I think that every person of faith must, at some point, deal with the problematic aspects of their church’s history and doctrine. This comes with the territory. Whether it be disturbing stories in scripture, imperialist tendencies, doctrines that chafe against us, or problematic leaders, no person of faith is exempt from wrestling with the history that accompanies their faith. I have studied my church’s history in depth. Many of the horror stories I heard were provably false. Many were true. Where does that leave me?

I believe that God is bigger and better than us. We make terrible, awful mistakes all the time. But I don’t think that makes God less willing to work with us. If anything, I think it means he wants to help us more. He wants to help us move past our histories and become better. My church has a long way to go in this regard. For too long we have been silent when it mattered, and people have been wounded by our silence. Or even the words we have said out loud! If you look at my Mormonism tag on my blog, you will see some examples of what I am talking about. I have been wounded by the things my church has said and not said. It hurts awfully, and I ache for those who have been wounded more deeply than I.

But at the same time, I cannot deny the healing my faith has brought me. Whatever problems my church has – and it has many, deep and pressing issues – it is because of my faith that I am the person I am today. I can draw a straight line from my religion to the positions I hold today. Because I am a Mormon, I became a Marxist. Because I am a Mormon, I became nonbinary. Because I am a Mormon, I became a leftist. I cannot ignore that my religion, flawed as it may be, has led me to where I stand now. I am at the intersection of the hurt and healing the church offers. It is a difficult line to walk. But I hope that in walking it, I can bring healing and love to those who hurt in the ways I do. To let them know that they are not alone, and that they have a friend who can help them wherever they choose to go.

Yes I am queer. Yes I am a Mormon. I am here because I am trying to fix things. If at some point in the future I realize that I cannot change things, perhaps I will leave. I hope it does not come to that. And things are changing. They have changed before, and they can change now. I am confident that my God is willing to lead my church where it needs to go. I hope I can help speed things along. We shall see.

But spreading unequivocal hatred and disdain for Mormons does not help those of us who are Mormon who are trying to fix things. Yes, those who have left Mormonism due to trauma need a safe place to be away from that, and acknowledging the church’s many faults can be helpful to those people. I myself have criticized my church quite vocally. But refusing to listen to the stories of those of us who choose to stay, telling others that we are evil or stupid or what have you, is also quite traumatic to us. We are people too, with thoughts and feelings. It is easy to dismiss us out of hand if you assume we aren’t.

I try to be open about my religion and political stances on my tumblr. See for yourself: It’s a mix of Mormonism, LGBTQ+ activism, Marxism, and pretty much every other leftist political position you can find. Along with all the furry stuff, of course. But despite all this, I am still terrified every time someone follows me to tell them I am Mormon. More than I am to tell them that I’m queer. Tumblr is not representative of how things work in the “real world,” of course, but I have received hatred for being a Mormon there as well. And it’s mostly other Christians. So on the one hand I’m hated by LGBTQ+ folks, on the other hand I’m hated by my church for being queer, and on the third hand (as apparently I have three hands), I am hated by other Christians. I do not face hatred to the same degree from other Christians. I saw it most on my mission. But still, it exists.

(Incidentally, Evangelicals, who you seem to have problems with, and perhaps rightly so, though I have not done a study of the matter myself, largely despise Mormons, from what I have heard. Something to consider.)

I want allies. I want help. I want understanding. If I am to push back against bigotry in my church, I need your help. I need everyone’s help. Fighting bigotry wherever we see it is a worthy pursuit, I think. And if we can succeed, we can make the world a better, safer happier place. I want to fight off the ghosts that haunt my church. You don’t have to fight them with me, but I would appreciate it if I could have your support. It would make my job much easier.

We aren’t enemies. At least, I don’t think you’re my enemy. We both have been hurt by homophobia and bigotry. We live in a capitalist hellscape where police brutality and racism are on the rise. Fascism is looming over the political backdrop, along with the ongoing threat of ecological disaster. I think we would be better off helping each other than going after each other. I ask that you please listen to us when we say you are hurting us. The Mormons you blocked knowingly followed you, an openly queer person who calls out racism and bigotry and pedophilia. Yet you assume we are in favor of those things. Someone can at once be part of an institution while recognizing it’s flaws. (Aren’t we both Americans? Why not move if we hate it so much?) And perhaps we have used the “No true Scotsman” fallacy to justify why we stay. I don’t believe I have. I don’t feel I need to.

I hope that you consider what I’ve said here. I hope we can work together. And I hope that no matter what, you find peace wherever you end up.

Yours truly,

Demo Argenti

[maryibgarry102]

Me: Bring up how bi/pan lesbian can have lesbophobic implications that make me uncomfortable (ie the idea that lesbians can be attracted to men, or that lesbian as an identity is only about sex), makes it very clear, MULTIPLE TIMES, that i'm only bringing up my feelings about the term and how it can make me uncomfortable as a lesbian as opposed to saying "you can't ID this way whatsoever and if you do i want to attack you and exclude you from the community"

Them: Don't ID police, also infighting makes us weak so don't blame them as a whole for homophobia/transphobia and like just focus on being a community, it's not our place to be critical of other labels? so like don't do it at all :)

Like not once did I say people aren't allowed to ID as bi/pan lesbians (cause like even if i personally am upset by it i can't force them to ID as something else and i don't know their sexuality/gender like they do), or that they somehow aren't allowed in the LGBT community, and not once did I blame that label or those individuals who use it for homophobia/transphobia as a whole (i literally just said that as a lesbian i'm upset by the implications because it can contribute to lesbophobia).

Also, the LGBT community is literally made up of multiple, smaller identities that face their own sets of issues, some of which are not shared by everyone. There will naturally be conflict! Even more, if there are issues, they need to be at the very least addressed if we ever hope to change for the better. If we ignore these problems in an effort not to upset anyone, how will we ever get better? How will we ever grow stronger as a community? Conflict and criticism is necessary for learning and growing, and we'll never be able to have better intersectionality and be a better, healthier community if we try to completely avoid it.

Like, I used to ID as pansexual, and when I did I first defined it as "liking women, men, and transgender people." I wasn't aware of the transphobia in that at the time because I was young and uneducated. However, hearing what trans people would say about it, educating myself online, and being critical of myself helped me to realize I was being transphobic. Was it a comfortable experience? No, but it was necessary to learn and get better. I promptly changed my definition to "I'm attracted to all genders." (Turns out I'm a lesbian, and also pan as a label can in some situations be problematic too? but that's not the focus of this post.) I was never going to improve upon that transphobia if I never tried to address it or if no one confronted me about it. Would you rather have me continue to use that transphobic definition and ignore confronting me about it because it would make me "uncomfortable"?? NO LIKE THE OBVIOUS ANSWER IS NO, because the idea being spread about transgender people contributed to transphobia, whether intended or not, and was harmful. Being critical of labels, definitions, and what we say/do is necessary in some situations; after all, if we never were critical, how could we improve upon our issues?

We all have biases and issues we deal with, and everything we do and say has consequences. It's never pleasant to realize something you do/say can hurt people, but we can't do nothing. Problems need to be addressed, at the least, if we ever hope to improve, even if it's not always a comfortable experience; our community is allowed to discuss intersectional issues, SHOULD discuss those issues, because it's how we learn, grow, and become stronger as a whole. NOT by ignoring those issues because they're not always comfortable to address.

Infighting also is NOT the same as being open to discussing the issues within our community and trying to improve upon our biases? Like what the fuck was that nonsense

And along with that, I'm horribly upset because it felt like the moment I brought up a lesbophobic thing that hurts me, it felt way blown out of proportion like I was somehow attacking people for saying "this thing, i feel, can contribute to lesbophobia and that is upsetting to me." I was responded to as if I was being unfair or overly critical; and like i know sometimes bringing up bi/pan lesbians and my worries about the label can be mistook as me targeting them (that of which I do not and will never do ever because it's cruel and ridiculous to do something like that) so I was VERY specific on "this thing can bother me, and i want to discuss it openly, but my opinion doesn't mean bi/pan lesbians don't have valid experiences or that they don't matter or aren't in the LGBT community." But even with me saying that, even saying it over and over to make sure I was getting my message across, being as direct and respectful and polite as possible, me bringing up lesbophobia was brushed off as "you shouldn't bring this up because it can make people uncomfortable."

How many times are lesbians told, when bringing up lesbophobia and how it hurts us, that the lesbian community and it's problems don't matter. Lesbians ask for basic decency and respect and time and time again, no matter how respectful or mindful we are when doing so, we're constantly made out as an evil community that doesn't matter, that causes unneccessary conflict, that is unreasonable and awful and, in some cases I've seen, "deserved to be oppressed." We have to deal with lesbophobia in the LGBT community A LOT, to the point where many lesbians feel horribly isolated and alone; it's so bad to the point that some TERFs will actively target lesbians so they can try and use that isolation to further manipulate their targets, many of which are minors, into becoming TERFs themselves. It's horrendous how rampant lesbophobia is, both in the open discrimination against us, as well as in the silence.

Anyways, I'm very upset as a lesbian because I feel like I'm dealing directly with that lesbophobia right now in the way I was responded to; even if it wasn't overt, even if it was subtle, I'm indirectly being told that I'm unreasonable, I'm being a bother by saying as a lesbian I'm hurt by something, I'm being told that I don't matter. That my identity as a lesbian and the pain I go through as a result of lesbophobia doesn't matter as much as someone getting uncomfortable when I point out even just the implication of lesbophobia. That hurts; I hurt.

I just feel so betrayed and isolated and upset right now. Sorry if this rant is a lot I'm just really not happy at the moment, like I've literally cried like 3 times in the past hour

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Lars and Aidan Caught

(An Anon requested a chapter from my original WIP that had Aidan/Lars, so here you go! Although it goes... dark places. This is a novel about demons, after all...

CW: Threatened noncon towards the end (doesn’t actually happen), some violence. Takes place in a fantasy universe, in a cult that has very homophobic tendencies and there is some use of in-world homophobic language)

The moon was a sliver of itself, leaving the world bathed in a more complete darkness than usual. Aidan stepped off the path northeast of town and instead walked through the woods, in no hurry, pretending to be taking an idle stroll.

The whole time, he placed each foot carefully to avoid sticks that might crack or leaves that might rustle as he passed, trying to keep one eye over his shoulder. No one was out this late at night, the point where it was nearly early morning. Guards at Petra’s Gate, maybe; maybe a Hunter or two around the perimeter.

They never met near either of those places, and sticking to the north part of town meant you’d see even fewer people, since everyone avoided the caves. Still, the tension in town every day meant it had been nearly three weeks since they’d been able to pass a message along, set up a time. Aidan couldn’t seem to stop second-guessing himself, looking over his shoulder with every step.

Something was going to happen, or… maybe it had happened already. Something he didn’t know about or understand. The air in Morlofte had changed. Aidan had been comfortable in this place, it was his entire life, but he was starting to feel nervous. The rules were changing, rules that had always been etched in stone were slipping away like sand.

The Singer held Gatherings with new fervor, sometimes three times a week, her eyes wide and white-rimmed and wild. She spoke about taking the word of the Mother out into the world itself, but… the message wasn’t the same. She wasn’t promoting peace. This wasn’t the sermons he was used to. He’d once all but rolled his eyes as they droned on and on. Now, he sat in rapt, horrified fascination.

The Singer told them to have faith in the coming storm. She spoke about opening the Gates like Morlofte was an army preparing to invade, rather than a peaceful town mostly made up of farmers. The people cheered, their eyes strangely empty while they applauded. She had started training everyone in town in combat, having the Guards walk them through the basics, claiming it was for ‘defense’.

Yesterday, Aidan and a couple of other Guards had been denied entrance into the caves, where Guards had always been the ones who came and went to take care of those in punishment. Now only the Elders and the Singer and her daughters went in there these days.

No one in punishment had been allowed to come out in weeks. On the other hand, crimes that had once been punished by time in the caves were either being ignored outright, or people were beaten. Sometimes openly, in the street. Aidan had been ordered to strike someone the other day.

Elder Brem said there was a new law, that the Singer had had a message from the Mother that they must become tougher, harder on the people. Prepare them to stay together even in times of great distress.

What distress? What were they planning?

People were frightened.

If the Singer suddenly didn’t want people in the caves, she had to be hiding something in there. It couldn’t be the runaway; Tyler Rykke’s existence was common knowledge by now. They were keeping people out of the caves, and at the same time, talking about opening the Gates. Even the hum of the fence, the gentle permanence that had never left Morlofte and had always sounded like comfort and reassurance to Aidan, had a jagged edge these days.

Something was different. Something was about to happen, and he didn’t want to be here whenever whatever it was occurred.

It was time for Aidan to leave, and he knew exactly who he wanted to take with him.

He went to their usual spot, a secluded clearing, barely the length of three men lying head-to-toe, alongside a small stream. Just enough rushing water sound to drown out their words if anyone came nearby, but not so much that they couldn’t hear the crashing sounds of anyone unused to the woods.

The clearing was empty when he got there, but that wasn’t unusual. Aidan settled himself into the shadow of a tree, trying to shake off his exhaustion. These after-midnight meetings were hard the next day. He’d have to try and sneak off for a nap at some point, if nobody seemed like they’d notice.

Everyone seemed to notice everything these days. Nobody talked about anything but surface things, but you could hear the fear in their voices, the worry. He knew even the younger ones were worried, too. Bram had taken to crawling into Aidan’s bed in the middle of the night, fourteen year old Bram, to ask him if they were about to be overrun by the world outside.

He wasn’t sure how to explain that they might be the ones gearing up to go out there themselves. He wasn’t sure if he should ask him to run away, too.

Aidan heard the sound of someone coming through the brush, and although he was pretty sure he knew who it was, he took another two silent steps back himself, until he was completely shrouded by shadow.

After a few moments, the person he’d been waiting for stepped into the clearing. With his eyes adjusted to the dark, Aidan could see every detail.

“Hello,” He said softly, stepping out of the shadow of the tree. “Missed you.”

“Hello yourself,” Lars Mikkelson replied, a smile playing across his face. He looked somehow leaner in the shadows and dim moonlight, wearing just a thin shirt and pants that could have been blue or gray or any color at all. The thin, silvery light washed everything out. They were all just grays, now.

There was a pause, while they just stared at each other. It occurred to Aidan that he’d never seen anything as beautiful as Lars in the middle in the night. He opened his mouth to tell him, realized how absolutely, atrociously awful it would sound if he tried to find the words, and closed his mouth again.

Finally, Aidan said, “C’mere,” in a voice that seemed caught somewhere in his throat. Lars crossed the length of the clearing in something slightly less than a run and they grabbed onto each other like drowning men, their kiss one that felt more like a need than affection.

When they finally broke apart, both gasped for air. Aidan ran a hand through Lars’s hair, as always a little caught off guard by how delicate he seemed. “You’re late,” He whispered, and kissed him again.

Lars laughed, more exhalations than sound. “I’m not. You were early.”

“It’s been weeks, Lars.”

“There was never a good time. We’ve been busy. Things have been…” Lars trailed off, and finally shook his head. “Healers have been needed more than ever these days. Plus, El has been watching me like a hawk. I had to make sure she was asleep before I could go. Let’s hope no one has a nightmare tonight and wakes up and she has to explain where I am again. She hates how often I go for ‘walks’. Plus, she says with things the way they are now..”

“She hates everything about you,” Aidan shrugged. “She always did.”

“No… she doesn’t hate me. She tried to make it work for a long time. I’m the problem, not her.” Lars looked away, off to the side, crossing his arms in front of him. “She’s hurt, Ade. I’ve been married to her for years and all I’ve ever done is hurt her.”

“You didn’t ask to be assigned to her.”

“She didn’t ask for me, either. Let’s stop talking about this. I don’t want to meet you with her right there behind me, telling me all the ways I’m evil this week. I want being with you to be just being with you.”

“I want that, too.” Aidan frowned, standing awkwardly for a moment before simply folding Lars into his arms. There were times it paid to be the taller man, and the feeling of the top of Lars’s head tucked just under his chin… it was something he thought about all the time, going through the motions of the rest of his life. It was all just biding time until there was this. “We’ve got to get out of here, Lars.”

“I know.”

“I don’t know what, but something is really, really wrong.”

“I know.” Lars pulled back, and Aidan for a moment regretted having said anything at all. Here, these times they met in secret, time sped by. The rest of his life, it stood still. He would have given anything to switch the two. “But where would we even go? You’ve heard what it’s like out there.”

“What we’ve been told it’s like out there. What if it’s better? What if they don’t want us to know because they’re afraid no one would ever stay?”

“Aidan… what if it it’s not better? What if we run, and we hide, and we find our way out there and it’s… worse?”

“I don’t think there are walls out there. If it’s worse, then we just keep going. We just go until we don’t see anyone, and we stop in that place, and we live for each other.”

“You can’t just live for someone else for forever,” Lars said, softly, but there was a smile in his voice that Aidan would have given anything to hear again.

“Watch me,” Aidan whispered, and kissed him again before he could say anything in reply. They folded into each other in away that was utterly natural. Their mouths opened to each other and Aidan thought there had never been anything so soft as Lars, as everything about him. The stream beside them burbled away, a squirrel took off with a crash in the branches above them. Aidan pulled back, just for a moment, just long enough to pull Lars’s shirt over his head, then his own.

“We can’t stay too long,” Lars said, his hands already going to undo the button on Aidan’s pants.

“How long is too long, exactly? I think I can take up exactly that much time.” He laughed, pushing Lars’s back up against a nearby tree, one hand sliding around behind the back of his head, the other finding its way further down.

“Shit-,” Lars gasped, and Aidan cut him off with another kiss. There was quiet, except for their shifting, the occasional gasp, the sound of their mouths together. Aidan pulled back, looking at the shadows sliding around and over the other man’s face. “By the Far God, you’re pretty,” He said. His voice was hoarse with desire.

Lars blinked at him, startled by the casual heresy, but he put his hands up to Aidan’s face. “Oh, Ade. I-”

There was a sudden loud crash in the bushes off the way they had come, the sound of someone cursing. Aidan felt a cold wave of fear wash from head to toe, undoing every ounce of warmth that he’d had a moment earlier. He pushed himself away from Lars, trying to do his pants back up over the very obvious bulge trying to make itself known. “Shit.”

Found us. For nearly three years they’d been meeting like this. Three years, in different places, always after midnight. For three years no one had ever suspected a thing.

“Oh, Mother,” Lars whispered. Even in the darkness, his face had gone a sickly chalky white. “Oh no. Oh no.”

“Lars, get out of here,” Aidan snapped. “Just run. I’ll keep them busy. Maybe it’s just Eldaway. Maybe she followed you.”

“Eldaway already hates you enough, and that cursing was a man’s voice,” Lars said, but the humor didn’t quite land. His eyes flickered, panicked, back and forth between the source of the sound and Aidan’s face. “Ade, they’ll know we-... they’ll hurt you-”

“Not your problem. Go.”

The crashing was louder. It was definitely more than one person, Aidan thought. He tried to calm himself. Lars just stood there, like a deer staring down an arrow headed right for it. “I said go!”

Lars looked back at him once more, nodded, and took off. He ran barefoot through the cold streamwater. Smart; one way to not leave a trail right off the bat. Aidan swept his sword up into his hand and spun around just as three Guards stepped out of the trees into the clearing. That had been close. How much had they seen?

“Who was that? Get him!” One yelled at the others. Ben, Aidan thought. That was Ben. One of those the Singer trusted to leave with Traders, to go out into the world. Aidan hadn’t spent years afraid of this exact moment for nothing. Aidan raised his sword and stepped into the path of the one who had moved to follow Lars, smiling.

“That’s not necessary. I think you’ll have your hands full with me,” He said smoothly. His heart pounded with panic, but none of it showed on his face. At least he hoped it didn’t. Run, Lars. Run fast.

“Looks like you’ve had your hands full enough tonight, flit.” Ben’s lip curled with disgust. “What else you been filling?”

“Oh, do you need me to show you how it works?” Aidan raised an eyebrow. “I give lessons, you know. I’m very talented.” The rage was building in their expressions, rage and disgust. If he made them angry enough they’d forget Lars entirely, focus on him. Aidan knew he should feel ashamed but all he could think about was Lars, racing barefoot through the woods, putting as much distance between them as he could before they realized Aidan was pissing them off on purpose.

“Shut up, slagpile. You’ll be damned for that, you know. For… that.” The man gestured to the spot where Aidan and Lars’s shirts were in a pile together on the ground, near their shoes. “We saw it was a man, Garnes. You’re well and truly fucked, now.”

“No, that’s what I was about to be before you showed up to join the fun, Benny.”

“Shut up and surrender, degenerate,” another guard said, spitting to the side. “Tell us who you were with. It doesn’t have to go down like this.”

“I’m sorry, Eli,” Aidan said sincerely, setting his feet into the dirt with one slightly angled in front of the other, trying to keep his eyes on all of them at once. His body moved into a low, defensive posture fluidly, instinctively. “It doesn’t matter who I was with.”

“Shit,” the third Guard said, nervously. “I don’t want to fight Aidan. I’ve seen him practice.”

“Coward,” Ben spat. “Flits can’t fight.”

“Most of them, maybe,” Eli shrugged. “We know Aidan can. You don’t get to be Elder Brem’s favorite without being able to handle a sword, Ben.”

“This piece of shit handles more than swords,” Ben said, rolling his eyes. There was something off about them, Ben’s gaze seemed wrong somehow, but it was too dark for Aidan to tell exactly what it was. “Take him down. We’ll find out soon enough who he’s been rutting with like an animal out here in the woods.”

“I’ll have you know I rut like a man,” Aidan said smoothly. “With other men.”

The distraction had worked. Ben roared and ran at him. The other two swung out to the side to try and get at his weak spots. Not one of them even looked in the direction Lars had gone.

Ben swung first, and their swords met with an ugly clang. Then Eli from the side, and Aidan just barely met his blow, ducked under the third guard’s first attempt. By then, Ben was already trying again. Aidan couldn’t last. It was three on one.

But he gave it a good fucking try, that was for sure.

It was Eli who got the first good cut in, a few moments later. Aidan spun away as blood dripped down his side, hissing at the hot flash of pain. That’d slow him down, and from the relief that flashed across their faces, they knew it. He tried to back up, dancing lightly away, but they kept pressing him in. A few more cuts, shallow, but they hurt like hell. The circle of trees seemed like bars on a cage, now. He just had to buy Lars some more time.

Just buy him some more time-

Ben stuck his foot out. Aidan, distracted trying to defend against Eli, managed to trip right into it and fell. His head smacked against a tree trunk.

His grip on his sword went suddenly slack, and Eli kicked it away. It skidded across the clearing, too far for him to reach.

Blade to his neck, less than an inch away. “Hold still, flit.” Throbbing skull. Something felt like it had broken in his mind. Breathing hard, Aidan held still.

Ben grinned down at him, sweaty enough that Aidan could see the sheen on his forehead and cheeks even in the night. Too sweaty. Why? The fight hadn’t been that long. It was still cold out here at night, still spring. “You’re bleeding in four places, Garnes. It’s over. Put your hands up. You’re under arrest for the pursuit of unlawful carnal knowledge.”

Aidan turned his palms out, hands up, sitting slowly up with the sword to his neck the whole time. He was sweating, too, or bleeding from his head where he’d hit it. Something wet was running down his face, in any case. “Fine. Take me back to town, then.”

“Not just yet.” The other two looked, confused at Ben, who just smiled down at Aidan. The smile stretched too wide, was held for too long. Aidan shuddered. “Who knew Aidan Garnes was degenerate, this whole damn time? Who’d have guessed it?”

“Well, I knew,” Aidan said helpfully, but his voice was weaker than it had been before. The air felt heavy and Aidan, for once, was afraid.

“Shut up.” Ben looked back at the other two, that smile still lingering in his expression. There was an empty hate in his eyes, something else roiling underneath. The faces of the congregation at the end of the Singer’s sermons, when she talked about the evils of the world outside, how the Mother would cleanse them all. “You were spotted leaving town, when we’re all on curfew these days. Now we know why. The Singer’s going to be so angry,” Ben said, with something like delight in his voice at the thought. Something perverse. “They’re going to kill you.”

Something had changed, in the air. Something was making people worse. Ben was being worse. He could see the surprise and uncertainty in Eli’s face, the unhappy looks he exchanged with the third guard, their confusion.

“So who were you with, Garnes? Tell us the truth, and we’ll go easy on you. Maybe you get to live. Turn him in. Let us know what other flit’s been seducing you. Maybe it wasn’t your fault, eh? Maybe someone else made you do it?”

“No one seduced me,” Aidan snorted. He blinked as red filtered into his vision in his left eye. Definitely bleeding from the head, then. “It doesn’t work like that.”

“Doesn’t it? Guess I wouldn’t know. I waited for my wife, like the Singer said.”

Even Eli couldn’t pretend to believe that one, he and the other guard exchanged a baffled look. Aidan laughed out loud. “Oh, please. You went to the hayloft with Aisha when we were fourteen.”

Ben frowned, eyes narrowing. It’s in his eyes. What is wrong with his eyes? “At least I went with a girl.”

By now, Aidan knew Lars had to be far enough away that he’d stopped running. Maybe take a second to catch his breath. Walk back into town a different way, explain to Eldaway if she was up that he’d gone swimming or something-

“You’re really not going to tell us who you were with?”

Aidan spat on the ground, right at Ben’s feet. “I’d rather die.”

That slow, sick smile spread across Ben’s face again. Something is making people worse in Morlofte. What is it? What changed? I’ve never seen this face on him before. From the look on Eli’s face, neither had he. Something had changed in Morlofte.

Why isn’t it changing everyone?

“Let’s get him back to the Singer, Ben,” Eli said, in nearly a whisper, his own eyes suddenly wide, ringed with white. That was when it occurred to Aidan what was wrong with Ben. The thing that he hadn’t been able to figure out.

Ben’s were totally black. He had no whites in his eyes.

“You like men so much, Garnes?” Ben laughed. It was a low, throaty laugh. Lars laughed that way, sometimes, when they were out here in the woods. From Ben, it was the worst sound Aidan had ever heard. “Let’s find out just how much.”

“What?” Aidan’s lips were numb. “No.”

The sword moved away from Aidan’s neck, just a little. “You don’t get to say no. Get up on your knees.” One of Ben’s hands dropped, starting to undo his own pants.

“Ben, what the hell?” Eli sounded frightened, suddenly. “Stop.”

“I said on your knees, flit,” Ben said, flatly, ignoring him. There was another voice behind his. Something darker, an echo. Something almost liquid.

Survive, Aidan. No matter what you have to do.

Aidan felt his heart pound as he nodded, silently, and slowly pushed himself up onto his knees. He couldn’t think of any witty retort. He couldn’t think of any words at all.

“Ben.” That was Eli, but he sounded far away, and weak. Aidan could barely hear him. “You can’t do this. This isn’t right.”

His hands hung like dead weights at his sides. He tried to lift them, to push Ben away, but nothing happened. The air felt like it was pressing in, he could barely breathe. It was like having some massive stone laid atop his chest, only it was everywhere, all around him. The pendant at his neck burned and burned and burned.

“You’re going to do what I tell you,” Ben said. The other voice, syrupy black, twisted and writhed around his. “Or we’ll tell the Singer we found a corpse.”

“Ben, listen-” Ben turned his black stare on Eli and the other man closed his mouth, almost with a snap.

“Did you hear me, slag?” Ben turned back to Aidan. The point of the knife pricked the side of his throat, and he felt a trickle of blood run down. “You’ll do what I say. You don’t get to say no.”

“I heard you, Ben.” He had to run. To stand up. To get away. But the weight pressed in every side and Aidan, who spent hours every day practicing combat, who had been first through the fence after Tyler Rykke, was frozen with fear. “I heard you.”

“Good.” That awful laugh again.

“What’s wrong with him?” Eli asked the other guard, the one Aidan didn’t know. The other guard just shook his head. Both of them looked like any second they would step forward and end this, but they just didn’t. They just stood there. Like they couldn’t look away.

“Help me,” Aidan whispered. “Help me, Eli, please-”

“Shut up,” Ben growled. There was a shadow behind Ben, the shape of someone else, something darker than all the other shadows in the woods. There was no moon, no sliver of light found its way inside that darkness. There is someone making him do this. This is magic. Aidan, staring upwards as Ben moved towards him, thought he could hear a woman’s laughter, a sound like something rotten bursting open to let all the awful inside out.

Ben grinned, a sickly smile. Behind his face Aidan could see another one, wide black eyes that watched him, a shifting of skin. He could nearly see its expression, some horrible joy slipping in and out of the hateful desire in Ben’s. “Do this right and I won’t make you do it again with no teeth.”

Aidan, frozen, only nodded again. Ben put a hand on top of Aidan’s head and began to force it forward.

“Wait.” The pressure around them began to lift. Eli moved, finally breaking from his paralysis, reaching out and grabbing Ben by one arm. “Ben, stop it! Just stop!”

Ben jumped and looked over at him, and it was like a spell had broken. The face behind his was gone. The shadow seemed to slither downward and then disappear, a sense of anger in the air in its wake. “What?”

“Ben, what the fuck are you doing?”

Suddenly, he was Ben. The Ben Aidan had worked next to for years, the one who chased after girls but never meant any harm by it, the one who had spoken dreamily about becoming a father one day.

Ben blinked rapidly, his eyes their perfectly normal mix of white and brown, and shook himself like a dog after rain. “What did I-... Oh, shit, what did I do-” He growled, stumbling backwards. His face burned bright red as he redid his pants and then kicked Aidan in the stomach with a force that sent him onto his back onto the ground, coughing. “Ugh. What the fuck just happened to me? It’s… it’s his fault somehow.” Ben kicked Aidan one more time for good measure, and something snapped in his ribs. “Let’s take him to the Singer and tell her what happened. She’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again. She’ll… tell us what to do.” Ben’s voice shook, a little. Behind all his bluster and anger he looked terrified. “She’ll tell us what happens next.”

Eli and the third guard nodded, still staring at Ben as though they’d seen a ghost. They slowly moved forward, Eli unhooking the irons from his belt. It was the third guard who dragged Aidan’s hands behind his back and he didn’t even fight, staring still up at Ben, wondering what the fuck he had just seen.

Why had he frozen? He’d never frozen when threatened before. But no one had ever threatened him like that...

Something is wrong in Morlofte. Something is making people change.

The irons clicked onto his wrists, locked tight with the turn-click sound of the key. Ben held his hand out for it and Eli hesitated, then finally nodded and handed it over. “Let’s get him back to her fast,” Eli said, softly, and Aidan found himself nodding, quickly.

“Yes, absolutely, get me back to her fast.”

“Shut up,” Ben snapped. “Don’t make me do that again.” Aidan legitimately couldn’t tell if it was a threat or a plea.

His stomach ached, his cuts burned, and as they pushed him forwards through the woods he realized he must have twisted something in his leg when he’d tripped, as it began to throb as well. Eli and the other guard held him by the arms, thank the Mother, while Ben walked several feet ahead.

They’d been walking for a few seconds, Ben so far ahead they almost didn’t see him through the trees, when the third guard whispered. “What happened back there?”

“I don’t know,” Eli said, frightened. “I don’t know. Ben doesn’t… Ben isn’t a degenerate. He’s never been… he asked the Singer for a marriage assignment last week!”

There was a pause. “Maybe the flit did it,” The third guard said.

Aidan didn’t dare look at either of them. He kept his eyes on the ground, trying to look beaten. It wasn’t exactly hard, since he was bleeding in more places than he could count on one finger at this point.

“I don’t think the flit did it,” Eli replied finally. “He was too frightened. I saw… something else. I’ve seen a lot of something else lately.”

“Yeah. Me too. May the Mother keep us safe. We should tell the Singer about the shadow. About all the shadows.”

“Agreed. Even if Ben doesn’t, we have to tell her. And we don’t let Ben alone with him again. Just… just in case. It happens again. Whatever it was. I just don’t think the flit did it.”

“I didn’t, for the record.” The third guard smacked the back of his head. Aidan thought of the sheer volume of times he had hit someone to shut them up and honestly, the simple irony of it was kind of funny. He had to bite back a smile. Luckily, neither of them was looking.

“Let’s take him straight to her, don’t stop at the caves. Singer first.”

“Definitely agreed.”

If it was a choice between whatever had been in Ben’s eyes, trapped alone in a prison cell with the shadow that had turned Ben into someone else, and going to see the Singer, Aidan would pick the Singer any day. At least she’d just order his head cut off.

He tried not to think about the woods, as they came out of the forest and were back on the path heading towards town. It was late at night, nobody was awake but the usual patrols.

This was his second-worst fucking nightmare. But it wasn’t the worst.

Get home safe, Lars.

Goodbye.

I love you.