#i hate to break it you but wanting people dead for politically disagreeing with you even if they are actual scum is fascist rethoric

[hilacopter]

leftists when there are bigots in their country: obviously not everyone here is a bigot because we're human beings with differing opinions and political views, people who generalize all of us as bigots are being xenophobic.

leftists when there are bigots in the country they don't like: SEE THIS IS PROOF THEY'RE ALL EVIL ULTRA-RIGHT WINGERS AND WE ARE JUSTIFIED IN WANTING THEM DEAD WE MUST CLEANSE THE WORLD OF EVIL

[just-some-sorta-person]

Reo, Nagi, and Reo and Nagi

Getting lots of thoughts about Nagi and Reo in anticipation for the new epinagi chapter cus I'm just nervous and they have lots of brainrot potential. Like they're just so cute but also heartbreaking but also but also- not just together but separate too.

Reo

I get lots of thoughts about how Reo interprets reality. Like, he's just so delusional sometimes?? Like from the light novel

"Although Reo's strength was a modest number, his speed, stamina, agility, and jumping ability already surpassed the youth team's average. However, Reo was greatly unsatisfied, thinking, 'I'm so lame'" I understand being dissatisfied with average among the best, but thinking that you're lame... The perfectionism also shows in how he insists that Nagi make it clear when he's not good enough for them to play together as the best in the world, when Nagi starts out complimenting him. He seems to have self esteem issues in general. There's also when Nagi left, and in Epinagi he wonders if Nagi thinks he'll make it past 2nd selection, and asks why when Chigiri and Kunigami want him to join their team, surprised at their answer.

Then there's when Nagi thanks Reo for introducing him to soccer and Reo is so shocked, he thinks Nagi is dying. And when its established that Nagi is not dying, Reo says that he's matured, which I would interpret as Reo simply not taking that thanks as true gratefulness, but rather politeness that Nagi has matured into giving, since he's usually so insensitive. He doesn't consider that maybe Nagi has felt this way for awhile, and simply wanted to express his honest thoughts because he thinks it can't be true, to some extent. Or at least that's how I read it.

But as someone who knows how straightforward Nagi is, I feel like he should know that Nagi is just straightforwardly expressing his emotions. Reo sees, he just can't bring himself to believe or trust in it..

I mean, I'll be honest a lot of his delulu moments come from how he interprets his relationship with Nagi. And I think he's aware of it too- that irrational emotion that overwhelms him when it comes to Nagi. I think its because he let his guard down, and got really attached.

As Reo says, "He might be able to experience a storm of infatuation and obsession with this person. No. He can definitely do so."

(Also, can I just take this moment to make fun of Reo for saying this immediately after "The fact that he's playing games by himself during lunch break means that he's a game otaku. Zero exercise factor..." , "The face that looked up at him had an emotionless and cold expression...It was so drained of spirit that Reo thought that he looked half dead.", and "That person thinks that Reo will give him money if he asks for it. Weirdo." Like what haha)

And, the thing is, theres some evidence in epinagi that Reo is very aware of this weakness of his, and hates it. Like, he seems so crazy in the anime during the toothbrush pulling additional time, and even his response to Nagi leaving him behind for Isagi seems pretty extreme from an outsider perspective (I think some people will disagree with me?), since Nagi isn't saying they should stop being friends, nor is he denouncing Reo as a whole. He just wants to play soccer with someone else for a bit. If you take a step back from the metaphor of playing together as a romantic relationship, this really isn't that unreasonable? But it causes Reo to develop a vendetta against Nagi. It almost makes it seem like Reo is upset that he got his thing taken away from him, with how much he apparently needed to play on the same team as Nagi always. (This isn't the case). It's a jealous obsession, and you can see Reo's awareness of this in chapter 14 of Epinagi

"I dont want to remember. We've both moved on to new teams. I should cut my feelings short there. All I'm doing is dragging it out. I wonder if he even thinks I'll advance to the next round? If I wash out here, what'll happen to him? He told me we'd be together until the end... But he left me. What if he's living it up with Isagi and he's already forgotten about me? These thoughts just keep running through my head. Over and Over..."

The conclusion being- "I hate myself right now". There's an interpretation of this involving the relationship=soccer metaphor, but tbh I kinda refuse to go along with that because I think its much more interesting to see Reo's interpretation of playing soccer with Nagi being the same as being friends with Nagi as like a misinterpretation on Reo's part, rather than some kinda metaphor-made-reality thing. And I think by the way this is prompted by Kunigiri banter instead of anything soccer related makes it clear that this is not about soccer. If it was about soccer, the action that would trigger Reo's feelings would be Kunigiri doing some sorta soccer combo, not them being super good friends.

(Epinagi really is a gay shoujo romance masquerading as a sports shonen manga ehehehe)

In any case! We can see with this final sentence that he can't stop thinking about Nagi and hates himself for it. Can also see him being delulu with the Nagi/Isagi besties thing lol. Also, the way he says "We've both moved on to new teams. I should cut my feelings short there." it really does seem like Reo equates playing with Nagi to being able to be friends with him, and I think part of what plays into this is Reo's insecurity. I mean, he's been shown to view relationships as somewhat transactional, right? With how he brings Team Y together with food bargaining, with how he gets his highschool team together using similar bargaining tactics, by promising them idols and fancy meat, with his relationship with his parents where they will only let him pursue soccer if he can prove that he can become one of the best. Even in his relationship with Nagi, he spoils him a lot in return for being able to use his talent. Everything is conditional.

In that context, it kinda makes sense why Reo assumes everything is over when Nagi no longer needs him for soccer. Reo doesn't really get that even if Nagi doesn't improve through Reo or need Reo, that Nagi would still want to be partners, because its never really been like that for Reo. The focus his parents put on rationality and practicality and performance also helps to explain why he's so bad at figuring out what to do with his obsessive/jealous feelings, and why he hates himself for it. He's not allowed to be emotional or imperfect, so he was never taught how to deal with those feelings. I mean I think in general, always being the competent person good at pleasing the masses, at popularity, at everything, does not prepare one well for these kinda things. Having emotions beyond your control, I think.

Even beyond this, we can see how Nagi has effected him emotionally in how his dreams change. Getting Nagi was originially all for winning the World Cup, but somewhere along the way, it got to the point where when they entered Bluelock, Reo's goal wasn't to become the best himself so that he could win the World Cup, but rather to make Nagi the Best. A goal that literally has nothing to do with winning the world cup...

It makes me SO CURIOUS where he's at by 207. I think before Nagi asked him for help he'd managed to bury them, and make a path toward abandoning them entirely. Afterwards? I don't think he's gotten any better. He's still possessive, seems to want Nagi to have eyes only for him, and when Nagi gets sappy with him he laughs it off and refuses to accept it. When he dismisses Nagi's thanks as deathbed confessions, was it to protect himself from trusting? Knowing how little Reo thinks Nagi thinks of him, it seems like something he would have been overjoyed to hear, which really makes his response seem like a cautious dismissal. Especially his panel of shock, I wonder if there's that fear of assuming too much again, getting too close again. I'm really curious.

Nagi

Nagi gives me brainrot in a less angsty way, since he started so low that things can only really go up from him now. He went from having to buy a cactus to talk to to having a rich bf who adored him and did everything for him, to being able to escape his apathy and develop a passion that he really seems to be enjoying. Reo really made his life better and he knows it - writes poetry to Reo in his head constantly, joined a weird soccer cult for Reo, even after Reo slapped him away, Nagi remained dedicated to their dream. If Reo is underconfident in the security of the Nagireo situationship, Nagi is overconfident. He really seems to think Reo can read his mind? Lol.

Even so, because he's less soccer obsessed, he's at least a bit more grounded. He doesn't mind if Reo plays with people better than him, didnt want to join Bluelock because he didn't want him and Reo to be rivals, all that really seemed to matter to him at first was being with Reo. So, while Reo equated their partnership to being a soccer duo, Nagi saw it as an extension of their friendship. Unlike Reo, He's not particularly possessive. Like I said, he said he wouldn't mind if Reo chose to play with another player at the start. But he does care a lot about him - gets angry at Barou, plays soccer for him (at the start), wants piggyback rides, lets him pet his head... It really feels like while Reo needs Nagi more, Nagi admires Reo more, trusts him more, has more faith. It's quieter, but arguably more intense. (Reo fell first Nagi fell harder agenda) He actually seems to have an idealized vision of Reo in his head - An example of him thinking of Reo as greater and more perfect than the real person would be when he tells a despairing Isagi that Reo wouldn't act like this, and then epinagi jumps straight to a despairing Reo. Nagi really thinks Reo is more perfect than he actually is. Rose colored glasses. Wonder how this would interact with Reo's perfectionism.

There's that one interaction with Zantetsu I really like where Zantetsu asks him why he plays football and Nagi replies that its because of Reo, and all he's doing is tagging along. Zantetsu recognizes that Nagi, the hassle guy, is certainly doing a lot for Reo and asks what's so great about him, to which Nagi replies that its the first time anyone has been interested in a slacker like him

To which Zantentsu responds " ...You're down bad for Reo a wierdo." and "You're so loyal don't seem like a bad guy".

There uh wasnt really a point to that. I just wanted to talk about it because the respect they have for each others motives lives rent free in my head. And I think its interesting how Zantetsu immediately gets how much Reo means to Nagi, but Reo still doesn't understand after all this time.

Something I wonder is if part of the reason why Nagi is so bad at communicating and anticipating Reo's emotions is because he was apathetic and friendless for so long - disconnected from the world. Or well, I do theorize that part of his communication issues come from talking exclusively to a cactus for awhile.

Episode Nagi vs. Blue Lock

One image that I think really illustrates the difference between Epinagi and the main manga is Isagi's flabbergasted face when Nagi is having that moment with Reo where his hand gets slapped away.

He's so confused because they are not speaking his language. Reo's all like "you didn't choose me" And Isagi is like "And what does this have to do with soccer?"

Meanwhile once Reo switches gears to "I'll crush you" (expressing some form of ego/competition) Isagi is back to being the soccer manga MC.

It makes me wonder tho what's in store for our duo. Because in the main manga, they're back together, but they're not doing so great (if you look at the greater picture). There's tons of foreshadowing that Nagi is meant to fall from grace after reuniting with Reo, with Ego saying he'll get overconfident because of that dangerous goal, and Agi saying he's lost interest, as well as Isagi himself saying that there will be no more miracle goals. In the context of the main manga, it seems like while being a duo makes Reo and Nagi happy, its bad for their football. In the grander theme of Egoism, Reo seems doomed due to playing for Nagi instead of himself (tho this may not be as much of an issue due to his goal not being becoming a striker necessarily), and Nagi seems doomed because he's so comfortable with Reo that he won't experience despair and grow. The solution to this seems to be another fight or separation, maybe from Reo this time (thus breaking my heart).

However, from Episode Nagi's perspective, them being together in some fashion is integral to Nagi's goals. The manga starts with a remark on Reo's effect on Nagi, and so a permanent separation seems unlikely.

So is the ReoNagi duo good or bad for their soccer? It may function well if they reach some sort of arrangement that satisfies the ego rhetoric of the main manga, though I'm not sure what that would be. From the perspective of the main manga though, I can't see the duo ending well. From the perspective of Episode Nagi, however, their duo has to be maintained. It feels like two contradicting forces pulling at each other. How could this be resolved? There are some possibilities.

One possibility (though I don't like it so much) is becoming egoistic rivals who play together and push each other to their limits. The reason I don't like this is because this concept of rivalry and devouring is too similar to the main manga, and its kinda boring for a spinoff to take so much effort to just tell the same story in a different font.

Another possibility is that they fail in the main manga, and the spinoff is a tragedy about how Reo's discovery of Nagi doomed his soccer? Not a fan of this one because it would make me a lil sad. Though maybe it would be paired with the emergence of a friendship or relationship (I am not optimistic enough to hope for romance so at most hinted) that does not rely on soccer. It'd be a cool subversion, if a bit unsatisfying to see their dream abandoned. Honestly, I'd find this kinda path to be very interesting, but it seems to risky for it to actually be taken. It would explore the negative impact of tying your relationships to the sport, and suggest a mindset of happiness above mindless success. Seems risky though... very risky and subversive. And given the codependent nature of some sport duos, very satisfying to see the necessary separation of sport and friendship explored. Taking a positive spin, that would mean that because Reo is the one that nurtured Nagi's soccer genius, Nagi doesnt become the best soccer player but he does end up being happy :)

Another possibility would be Nagi just straight up leaving Reo and keeping him in thoughts only. That would hurt tho. Make me sad and depressed. I dont know if Reo could survive this.

Maybe Reo learns to motivate Nagi by becoming so good that now Nagi has to chase him instead of the way it was the other way round before. Not a fan of the manipulation undertones to that, so it may depend on the execution. Also just doesn't make much sense to me since it doesnt seem sustainable. Though maybe it could just be Reo learning to give Nagi more space to grow, and their friendship could just mend on the side separately. That could be nice.

Something else that doesn't seem likely to me, but I would like is for the point of Episode Nagi to be for Nagi and Reo to disentangle their situationship from its dependence on soccer, freeing them to be individual egoists while not necessarily pitting them against each other as rivals. This allows them to develop by the standards of the main manga, though it does make them a bit boring since they wouldn't really be taking an alternate path to star strikerhood. I like this path though because disentangling the situationship from soccer would have to involve them COMMUNICATING THEIR FEELINGS such that Nagi understood Reo's needs/insecurities and Reo understood Nagi's devotion. Reo would get affirmation that regardless of his performance, Nagi would still be his partner outside of soccer. And Nagi could be his, but outside of soccer. And they don't need each other. They want to be around each other. And I also think that a story leaning away from the codependency could show that once you realize you can function without the other, it makes it all the more meaningful when you choose to be together anyways. Because it's not a need, but a want. A want powerful enough to last. 

But that would really solidify that Epinagi is not about soccer, and while I joke that it is not about soccer, because it really doesn't feel like it is, I cant quite trust that it isn't because it is a spinoff of a soccer manga.

Something else that could happen is Nagi finding that his ego is realizing his and Reo's dream.. something that is romantic, but given how his ego and interest was kickstarted by Isagi seems a lil unlikely? But not impossible. Just because it was kickstarted by Bluelock doesnt mean it can't manifest and be fueled with Reo. ehhh idk if this really fits with the concept of Ego tho. I also feel like this won't force them to communicate or help Reo be more focused on his own performance, as opposed to only Nagi's goals (something I think he has to do, since serving Nagi makes him predictable and is reminiscent of that transactional relationship thing I mentioned earlier that he should probably learn is not the case). It would be consistent with the start and focus of epinagi tho.

At the end of the day, I don't know what will happen. Sure is fun to theorize tho!! :D

Nagireo, Reonagi

From a shipping perspective, I think their relationship is so interesting because its so complicated, and influences their lives so much. They are also polar opposites in a way that highlights their personalities. I think a meaningful exploration of Nagireo inevitably becomes an exploration of Nagi and Reo as characters. I'm not usually a fan of the miscommunication trope, but its a little different with these two because it really makes sense to me that they would miscommunicate- in fact, it seems inevitable that they would end up misunderstanding each other. Because of that, the misunderstanding feels meaningful instead of frustratingly inserted or forced.

Nagi idolizes Reo because Reo saved him from apathy. And because Nagi was apathetic and disengaged from society for so long, his communication skills suck, and he probably has a habit of not putting as much effort into conversations. When you combine those things, of course Nagi would act like Reo can read his mind.

Reo is used to getting what he wants, deems anything below genius boring or lame, and thus doesn't necessarily think highly of himself despite his accomplishments and hardworking nature - especially if you take into account his upbringing and parents. He feels trapped, and finds freedom in playing soccer with Nagi. With the transactional way Reo views relationships (I wonder, what it means for someone who views things as transactional to give so much to someone?) , and his perfectionism, it makes sense that the moment he wasn't the center of Nagi's world, he'd come away with the most despairing interpretation. An interpretation Nagi would be really bad at correcting.

So really, a misunderstanding feels inevitable with those two. Reo assumes the worst, Nagi is the worst at anticipating that and correcting it.

Despite that, I really like them together, not because they're the most functional, but because they care about each other. I really get why Nagi would be so grateful and devoted to someone that helped that drowning dull sense of apathy subside, giving him a chance to live an explore a world that didn't previously feel like his. And I really get why Reo would crave the freedom that Nagi granted him by making soccer possible for him. And also I think he kinda likes how much of a loser Nagi is lol, because its unconventional, and therefore interesting.

And I also get that sense of insecurity and drive, like if you fail you're nothing, and all your relationships depend on your success and ability to prove your skill - if you can't do the thing you're worthless and if you're worthless you're alone.

And also the loneliness of apathy, the sense that you're in your own world and there's no one around..

And I really feel like that devotion could help heal that wounded pride, and that sort of gleeful drive could really drive the apathy away...

The comfort in that is precious, I think

[lmskitty]

What do you think about the answer to this https://www.tumblr.com/gojuo/742796780522061824/is-satosugu-a-queerbaiting-ship?source=share ?

Look politely to that person they are able to read narrative and view it however they wish. No hate to them, they are absolutely right in that certain things are canon and certain things arent.

Here is a list of canonical things that Gojo has done regarding Geto/Gege has put in canon

-calling them his one and only

-saying his heart and soul knew otherwise

-an entire plan working on the basis that seeing them back from the dead would be enough to stall him

-having their deaths happen on December 24th which is a day considered super romantic in Japan.

-having Kenjaku state that to be creepy and refer to it as a date despite having used that emotional connection to manipulate them

-the urge to protect Gojo being so strong Geto briefly took control of his own body FROM THE AFTERLIFE to try and stop Kenjaku

- Gojo recognised Geto by scent after TEN YEARS (?!?!?!?)

- Geto specifically wore a Gojo- kesa because of the name

-Geto told a girl he would refer to her as Sato because he liked the name more

https://shipping.fandom.com/wiki/SatoSugu (for even more!!!)

I get not reading it that way, you wanna read them as friends that's fine but you cannot argue they can't be read as displaying romantic affection and that people reading that are seeing something that isn't there. It doesn't need to be stated as romantic but there is 100% love there and the entirety of the plot is driven from that and the break down of their relationship and the paths that leads them on.

Also (and I'm getting real tired of pointing this out) no one would say shit if either of them were female. If they were heterosexual people would be writing articles about this being the most romantic narrative in a manga regardless of if the canon remained the same and we never saw either of them act on their feelings.

I mean come on Gojo didn't give us love is the most twisted curse of all with no romantic basis.

But. The most important factor here is this.

It doesn't fucking matter. Everyone can read a text and get a different perspective from it. We don't all have to agree on the reading, there are headcanons people have that I don't agree with but think are neat , I have headcanons that are 100% fanon that most people would disagree with. OP is right in that everything else is fandom but it doesn't matter dude. You wanna ship them you ship away, I will state I've not interacted with anyone gaslighting or throwing it in people's faces, maybe I'm just in a good part of the fandom? If people are doing that which tbh I don't doubt, fandoms are insane and I've been in them since I was 11 and I'm 31 now, then that's shitty behaviour and ridiculous. People can ship how they want, just keep your fandom friends circle small you know? Fandoms should be for enjoyment so if it's getting toxic then cut your losses and start blocking I guess.

In summation:

Life is short, don't be a dick, you don't really need canon confirmation to enjoy a ship but don't chuck it in other people's faces or call people gaslighting for reading deeper into canon.

[perfectlyvalid49]

Sometimes I feel like this blog is more Judaism focused than I really want it to be. Like, I am Jewish, but that’s only one aspect of my personality. I’m also interested in politics and linguistics and nerdy pop culture stuff and a whole bunch of other things. And I want this blog to have space for all of that.

So when I spent a ton of time late last week fighting with an antisemite, I told myself that when I was done with him (or as it turns out, when he was done with me), I’d take a break from posting about Jewish issues for a bit. Just like, a week where I’m just reblogging stuff that makes me laugh or an interesting language fact or something like that. Y’know, happy stuff.

He blocked me Friday, and on Saturday, Hamas attacked. And I’ve got a big mouth, so I can’t not say anything. Maybe when this is all resolved I can post happy stuff, but for right now, I need a place to talk, even though I’m struggling with what to say.

I guess the first thing I should say is that I feel terrible about what’s happening. Because what’s happened so far is bad, and what will happen next is even worse. Israel will take its vengeance; innocent Palestinians will die. The friends and families of the victims on both sides will be radicalized and the violence will continue. I hate it and it’s stupid and I wish there was an easy way to stop it and I know that there isn’t.

And I want to say that I support the Palestinian people. The way that Israel treats the Palestinians in Gaza is inhumane – it shouldn’t be allowed! But Israel treats them that way because before they did, you couldn’t get on a bus in Israel without worrying about being blown up. That shouldn’t be allowed either! Everything is complicated. Both sides are full of people who just want to live in peace who are being screwed over by a minority who won’t be happy until the other side is gone. Both sides have valid points, both sides have done terrible things. Anyone who is telling you that it isn’t complicated is either woefully uneducated about the history of the conflict, thinks one side does not deserve fundamental human rights, or both.

And after saying all that, I guess that I should make it clear that I’m still a Zionist – I believe that the Jewish people have the right to a self-determined state, and I think that Israel is probably the best place for it (I did not say a good place, I just don’t think there’s a better one. The best of a bunch of bad options is still the best). Having said that I’m a Zionist, I still hate what Israel’s government is doing and has been doing. Netanyahu is a monster. You can disagree with a country’s government and still think it has a right to exisit.

If you think that all Zionists are evil (and you’re still reading this), then tell me a better solution. Where should Jews go to be safe from governmental persecution? Or should they be denied that? If so, why?

And that’s the other thing I want to talk about. Every Jew I know is watching this with feelings of grief and horror, and the response from the left seems to be some variation on, “Israeli civilians deserved this,” “go back to where you came from,” or “terrorism is OK, actually, as long as it’s against a colonizer state (but not the one I live in).” And it’s soul-crushing. It is possible to be anti-Zionist without being antisemitic, but it seems like right now people aren’t even trying. The only good Jew is a dead Jew, and now that there are a bunch of dead Jews, everyone is celebrating.

I keep thinking about this video that I watched at school when I was a kid about the conflict. It was probably the mid 90s and the video showed Arab and Israeli kids playing together with a voice over from an interview with one of their moms. And I remember her saying that the kids playing together was good because then they would be friends, and when they got older they wouldn’t want to fight each other because they would remember that they were friends. I know now that it was probably a propaganda video, but that’s still what I want. I want leadership for Gaza that isn’t a terrorist organization, I want leadership for Israel that isn’t a far right authoritarian nightmare, I want Palestinians to not be locked behind a wall, I want Israelis who don’t have drills for when the rockets come. I want everyone – EVERYONE – to be able to live a life in peace and I want two little boys with different backgrounds and religions that both include a history in Israel to be able to play in a field by a river and be friends.

And if you don’t want that? Fuck you.

[completely-real-and-normal-human]

an untitled magnus archives fic

the document this fic was in was just called ‘an indulgence in these troubling times’ and like yeah. sums it up really.

this fic isn’t really part of a wider au, i just threw one of the scrunklies from my brain into tma and wrote down what happened. i think it’s set somewhere in season 2 but i cannot be sure!

basic synopsis: spiral train.

my first fanfic on tumblr so pls be nice!!

tw: mentions of transphobia, spiral-typical body horror

[CLICK]

OLLIE A tape recorder? Seriously? I mean, I knew you folks were old-fashioned, but...

ARCHIVIST (mildly irritated) We've made several attempts to record to digital software, but it seems to disagree with most of the statements. This is the next best thing.

OLLIE Y'know what? I like it. Very retro. It kind of fits with this place.

ARCHIVIST Well, quite. (pause) If you'd like to begin?

OLLIE Sure. Do I, like, introduce myself, or...

ARCHIVIST Yes, just say your name and what your statement is regarding.

OLLIE Okay, uh, my name is Ollie Maverick, and this is regarding the disappearance of my coworker Grant Lewis due to an unexplained train in my workplace.

ARCHIVIST An... unexplained train?

OLLIE Well, it wasn't supposed to be there, and I sure as hell never got any sort of explanation for it.

ARCHIVIST R-right, well... (clears throat) Statement recorded direct from subject eighth of March 2017. Statement begins.

In your own time.

OLLIE (STATEMENT) Working in security was only ever okay, to be honest. The work's all right, apart from the night shifts — those really messed up my sleep schedule. I was working the night shift at a London train station when this happened. I know that's very vague, but I don't think I can name the station here, so you'll have to bear with me on that. We didn't exactly part on the best of terms, and I'd like to avoid a lawsuit at all costs. Anyway, like I said, I worked in security, and it was one of my least favorite jobs. Not the worst, but it's up there. Top four. Mostly because of Grant Lewis.

Not to speak ill of the dead or anything, but Grant was an asshole. He drank too much, chewed spearmint gum way too loudly, and he ran one of those alpha-male podcasts in his spare time. You know the ones — white guys in their twenties spend thirty minutes a week ramming their unsolicited opinions about women who won't date them and abortion and liberal politics down the throats of their listeners. That should tell you all you need to know about him. He was a prick, and he had it in for me from day one.

I was the only queer person on the security team, and I looked it. I came in the first day with a pronoun pin and a pink mullet and... well. He latched on to me, and I couldn't get rid of him. The worst part was, since we'd started working there at the same time and he kept making these awful jokes about me, to me, everyone else assumed we were friends. No one else could stand him, so we got lumped together the whole time on shifts. I spent hours with him in the control room, patrolling the station, even on my lunch break a few times when I came across him accidentally in a café. Every time, I'd have to listen to this — endless stream of unfunny jokes about my gender identity and my sex life. And, of course, those controversial opinions he aired on that podcast. He was infuriating, and he wouldn't go away.

But however much I hated Grant, I still don’t think he deserved what happened to him. Officially he's just disappeared, but I don't think anyone believes that now. I really, really don't want to know if he's still alive.

It all happened about a month ago. I was working the night shift from 11PM to 7AM with three other people — Allison Bates, Fred Landy and, of course, Grant. (long, irritated sigh) I... wasn't in the best of moods, to be frank. I'd spent the whole day dreading this, and to begin with it was exactly the kind of awful I'd expected. It was a Sunday, so the trains kept running until 2AM. The first hour or so was in the control room with Allison and Fred, who spent most of that time loudly flirting with each other. It was... very uncomfortable to watch, so I volunteered to go help Grant keep an eye on the platforms. It would have been well past midnight by this stage, coming up to 1AM, and he was out making sure the drunks lurching off the trains from holiday parties didn't get too rowdy.

There were four platforms in that station, grouped in pairs, and he was looking after platforms one and two. So, I headed off to look after platforms three and four, because I didn't feel like dealing with his bullshit. The steady flow of commuters was starting to peter out, and those that were drunk were harmlessly so. It looked like it might be shaping up to be a fairly quiet night. But I only got around forty minutes of relative peace before my radio crackled. Grant was apparently coming to join me, as Allison was covering platforms one and two. I had an idea that she'd probably sent him, as Grant had no idea how to be around any female-presenting people without getting really creepy. I may have mentioned he was a complete asshole, so I didn't really blame her, but I wasn't happy about it.

Grant showed up and we began patrolling the platforms and the small shop and cafe area together. He talked too much and chewed gum loudly, and I tried to ignore him as best I could and focus on the job. The last train rolled in around 2AM, and once the final passengers had stumbled out into the night we went to lock up.

It was then that we heard it. As we were walking back to the control room, the tannoy system crackled into life.

'The train now approaching Platform Four is not intended for passenger use. Customers are advised not to interact with the train, or indeed acknowledge it, in the interest of health and safety. Under no circumstances attempt to board the train now approaching Platform Four.

Thank you.'

It didn't sound like the usual train announcements. Those were an automated vaguely female voice, distant and slightly robotic. This voice was a garbled, distorted mess that I could barely understand, and it cut off with a screech of static that made my head ring. Grant and I stood there in confusion as the echo of that sharp static bounced off the walls, warping into something like a faint, mocking laugh.

I've not painted a great picture of Grant here, I know, but he was at least a fairly competent security guard. While I was still reeling from the announcement, he managed to get out his radio and make contact with Fred and Allison in the control room. They'd heard it too, and they were going to head towards the room that the tannoy operated out of, to see if it had been hijacked. Grant said we'd go take a look at Platform Four, to see if there was anything we needed to deal with.

It took us about two minutes to get there, and it felt like the echo of the tannoy announcement still hadn't died away. The air seemed different — heavier, maybe, and it smelled a little bitter. It made me slightly nauseous. Grant didn't seem to notice; he just started checking around the platform for anything suspicious. I was going to join him when there was a sharp, screeching whistle, like an old steam train, and I realised that I was smelling smoke.

It filled the platform as the train chugged into view, curling around everything and shimmering with colours that I — can't describe. The cloying, bitter smell of the smoke grew stronger and I could see Grant choking on it, tears streaming down his face but I breathed it in and it was... (panicked, breathy laugh) ..intoxicating. The train itself was an old steam train, bright purple and gold, with no driver that I could see. It slowed to a stop and the door to the first carriage swung open right in front of me. Mocking. Beckoning. (another laugh) It seemed the most natural thing in the world to just... step in.

Inside was a narrow corridor, carpeted in that same rich, wine-toned purple. The doors of the seating compartments faced me, and each had gauzy purple curtains pulled across the windows. I started down the corridor, and noticed a figure sitting inside one of the compartments. I couldn't make out much through the curtains, but they had long hair that seemed to be moving of its own accord, and….. their hands were... wrong.

I don't think I was entirely... myself, at that point. (shaky breath) I reached for the handle, and suddenly Grant rammed into me from behind, sending me sprawling onto the floor. He was pinning me down, talking fast and terrified, saying we had to get out, had to get help. I could see the long-haired figure in the compartment behind him slowly rising to their feet, rising and rising far beyond the proportions of a normal human body, limbs bending oddly in ways that hurt to look at. I screamed for Grant to run, but it was too late.

The door of the compartment opened with a creak, and... it wasn't a person. I don't know what the hell that thing was, but it was not a person. The hair was blond, and twisted and curled in on itself like a nest of snakes. Its eyes were hard to look at. B-but its hands... they were long, and the fingers had too many joints and they were sharp, and it looked at Grant and he started screaming, and it started laughing. That sound, it... it made my mind sting.

He tried to run, then. Got to the door that should have led back to the platform, but it was different now, smaller. Painted yellow. He opened it to show another long corridor, this time lined with mirrors and twisting wallpaper that hurt my eyes, and the monster-thing just... pushed him in. (pause) I... really hope he's dead. I really do. The alternative is just... well.

I scrambled to my feet and backed away as the thing turned to me with this... self-satisfied grin on its impossible face. Like it had just had a good meal.

Go if you like, it said. You'll be back. You won't be able to help it.

It began to laugh again as I began to run.

I don't know how long I ran. The carriage never seemed to end, and every door I opened led either to a set of seats or to another twisting corridor. Eventually, think I just... gave up. Lay on the floor and waited to dissolve into an impossibility.

I woke up lying on Platform Four with Fred leaning over me asking panicked questions while Allison was calling the police. I couldn't focus on any of what Fred was saying. My head was spinning. I... wasn't really aware of much until the police arrived. They asked me where Grant was. I said I didn't know. I was too rattled to come up with any sort of lie, so I just... told them what happened. (quiet laugh) I'm not really sure what the official proceedings were, but they didn't want to know. One of the officers dropped me home and I just went straight to bed. Thankfully my partner Rory was out on his own night shift at the time, so I didn't have to explain anything just yet. I slept like the dead until about four o'clock the next day, and the first thing I did when I woke up was send in my resignation.

I tried to... well, not forget about it, but to... put it at the back of my mind. I had no backup plan for a job, and Rory could only cover the rent alone for so long. I had to tell him what happened, obviously. I don't know if he fully believes me, but he hasn't said anything. He knows I saw something that really scared me, and he knows that that's why I quit my job. He's sticking with me, though.

Last week, I managed to get an interview for another security job in the Foundling Museum. And when I went to catch the train to get there, well.. I'm sure you can guess what happened. The smoke, this time, it... it was so hard not to get on that train. It felt... right. It was all I could do to walk away.

That blond monster-thing is following me, too.

It doesn't look as, as wrong as it did in the train, but I know exactly what it is. I see it pretty much everywhere I go. It catches my eye and winks at me, and I just about throw up with fear. Rory thinks they're panic attacks. He's trying to get me to see a doctor, or a therapist or something. He's probably right, but I wanted to come here first. I thought you... might be able to help.

ARCHIVIST (pause; a few abortive attempts to speak) Statement, eh... statement ends. I — I think I recognise this, ah... blond monster-thing you've mentioned. Did it... have you approached it? Talked to it?

OLLIE (incredulous) No!

ARCHIVIST Good. It... it calls itself Michael. I don't know exactly what it is, or what it wants, but it enjoys. toying with people. Doesn't seem to have any real purpose other than... spreading misery and madness.

OLLIE W-well, I... (clears throat) What do I do?

ARCHIVIST I'm afraid I... don't really know. (noises of panic and indignation from Ollie) I mean, I can tell you to avoid any suspicious doors, but I... have a feeling you could have come to that conclusion yourself.

OLLIE Great. Great. I knew this would be a waste of my goddamn time. Is that seriously all you've got for me? Avoid suspicious doors?

ARCHIVIST I'm sorry, I —

OLLIE (overlapping) Don't even —

[DOOR OPENS]

ELIAS Sorry Jon, am I interrupting?

ARCHIVIST Oh, Elias! Um... no, I, I think we're just about done here. R-right?

OLLIE Sure. We're done.

ELIAS Is everything quite all right?

OLLIE Apparently, you people are perfectly happy to take my statement, but you can't actually help me with my fucking eldritch stalker.

ELIAS Ah, yes. I can see how that might be... upsetting.

OLLIE (barely controlled rage) Can you, now?

ELIAS I believe I can. (pause) I'm Elias Bouchard, head of the Magnus Institute. And you are?

OLLIE Ollie. Ollie Maverick.

ELIAS Well, Mr. —

OLLIE (overlapping) Mx.

ELIAS Oh, my apologies. Well, Mx. Maverick, while I don't really know much about your situation specifically, I've found that our Institute is quite good at deterring any, ah, supernatural harassment of our employees. For the most part. And I believe you're in the market for a new iob?

OLLIE Uh. I mean….. yes, but how did you —?

ELIAS I was waiting outside for Jon to finish up, and I couldn't help overhearing. Interested?

OLLIE I... don't know that I could do much here. I don't know anything about ghosts, or - whatever it is you do...

ARCHIVIST I — Ollie, I really wouldn't —

ELIAS (overlapping) I'm sure you'll pick it up very fast. Should we discuss this in my office?

OLLIE Um... sure. May as well.

ELIAS Lovely. Oh, and Jon?

ARCHIVIST I — yes?

ELIAS Basira’s just got back. I believe you wanted to talk to her?

ARCHIVIST Oh, uh... okay, I'll — I'll go do that, I suppose.

ELIAS Right. Follow me, Mx. Maverick.

[FOOTSTEPS; DOOR SHUTS]

ARCHIVIST (sigh) Damn.

[CLICK]

[CLICK]

ARCHIVIST Well, that was... (sigh) ...anyway. Another person trapped in the archives. Better than being trapped in a corridor hellscape or an endless train carriage, I suppose. (pause)

Though... would they have been trapped? The way they described the train, and especially that smoke... what did they call it? Intoxicating.

They're clearly very scared, and I can't say I blame them, but I have to wonder if what I'm seeing here is... the birth of a new avatar. With Michael shepherding them to their new domain.

In terms of follow-up (sigh) I have been able to confirm that a Grant Lewis was filed as missing on the third of February this year. However, I was not able to find anything else about the case or the circumstances of his disappearance. The police don't seem to have done anything, and it looks as if this Grant didn't have any friends or family to make a fuss about it. I talked it over with Basira, and she agrees with me that it probably comes under Section 31. Obviously, this makes it difficult to get any real evidence for this statement, but I'm inclined to believe it anyway.

What I don't understand is why Elias would offer Ollie a job. They've made it clear that they need it, but I hardly think it's out of the kindness of his heart. (quiet, tired laugh) He's probably got some secret, evil plan for them. Some way to cripple the Spiral, perhaps. Or maybe he just wants to inflict a new and interesting kind of trauma.

Either way, I think I'll be keeping a close eye on Ollie Maverick.

End recording.

[CLICK]

[CLICK]

[SOUNDS OF SHUFFLING PAPER AND DRAWERS — A FILING CABINET? — OPENING AND SHUTTING. A DOOR OPENS.]

TIM Oh, uh — sorry, this area of the archives isn't open to the public.

OLLIE Yeah, I — I work here.

TIM In the Archives?

OLLIE Yeah, it’s my first day. My name's Ollie Maverick.

TIM Um... Tim Stoker. (pause) Sorry, what are your pronouns?

OLLIE (pleasantly surprised) They/them. You?

TIM He/him. (pause) So... you don't exactly look like the academic type.

OLLIE Says the person wearing a Hawaiian shirt to work.

TIM (laughs) No, I meant... y'know, people in this profession don't tend to be quite so buff. We're all skinny little nerds.

OLLIE Ah yes, my perfectly chiseled physique. I can see why you'd be confused. (Tim snorts) My last job was as a security guard, so...

TIM Sounds interesting.

OLLIE Well, it... didn't end well. I actually came to make a statement about it yesterday, and then your boss — Elias, I think his name was — offered me a job. For some reason.

TIM What?

OLLIE I know, right? I mean, I know jack shit about academia, but I did English in college and that was apparently good enough for him. I got the feeling that you're a little pressed for job applications.

TIM Yeah, well... I just hope you know what you're getting into.

OLLIE Oh?

TIM This place is... wrong. In a lot of ways.

OLLIE (jokingly) What, you've come across a lot of ghosts and ghoulies?

TIM I'm serious. It does things to you.

OLLIE Such as?

TIM It... won't let you quit. You can try it, but — you won't be able to.

OLLIE That all?

TIM (sigh) You'll find out soon enough, I guess. You're stuck here now.

OLLIE (pause) You're not just — messing with me?

TIM No.

OLLIE Well... fuck. (resigned sigh; pause) Out of the frying pan, into the fire. Assuming this even works.

TIM Assuming what works?

OLLIE It... doesn't matter. I guess we'll see.

TIM I guess we will.

[SILENCE]

OLLIE Hey, has — has that been running this whole time?

TIM What?

OLLIE That recorder. Did you bring it in here?

TIM Oh, for fuck's sake —

[CLICK]

[margridarnauds]

9, 4 and 18 of the Tav's asks for your Kitrye!

Thanks!

9. If they had to be put in a "get along shirt" with a companion, who would it be?

For...I want to say about 4/5 of her run, Kitrye fucking HATED Astarion. He was, hands down, her least favorite companion, her worstie, the guy who she was forced to bring along with her on missions for lockpicking purposes and then disapproved of everything she did. It got to the point where she would make decisions DELIBERATELY to piss him off more. "Oh, you don't LIKE IT when I free the gnomes from slavery? I'll even do it WITHOUT CHARGING THEM ANYTHING." "Oh :( Astarion's dead :( Let me run around a little before I resurrect him" Etc. etc. It began sometime around him making various racist comments in the first act, then with him rejecting her at the tiefling party (on the record, she was never interested in him -- he just rejected her off the bat and then she was furious at the presumption) that then ballooned into "I should be able to kill people because I had a sad life and if you disagree, you don't know what it's like to suffer" which...Kitrye....long-standing survivor of parental abuse...currently on the run from said parent...did not take well.

He is the reason that "Sorry About Your Parents" is on her character playlist. In order to get giffing material, I did romance "Astarion" in an AU, using mods to swap Astarion's character model with Raphael's, but for the first scene, Kitrye just looked...incredibly uncomfortable. Worst thing I've ever done to her, even beyond having her break her vow. Poor thing.

Anyway, when she went to confront Cazador, things had improved slightly, but she was still prepared to kill him rather than have him go along with the ritual -- she was NOT going to let an ascended vampire walk Faerûn. (And I wasn't going to reload my save if she did, I was willing to let it be whatever it was.) Only for him to redeem himself, save the other vampire spawn, and for her to break her oath. It was very, very bittersweet for her, and it made the lack of care about her breaking her oath/focusing on Astarion from the other companions even more heartbreaking, because it was a mixture of knowing she OUGHT to be happy for him and also being kind of like "I've been here since Day One doing this, I just lost my life's purpose, and I got barely a pat on the head or anyone expressing an ounce of sympathy, while Astarion can do the bare minimum of not being a dick and gets showered with praise, where's my respect?"

And it's funny because the vast majority of my other characters actually LOVE Astarion, so this is TRULY a Kitrye Thing. (Her daughter Anathematisma is actually currently sleeping with him, as of this point in her run.) (God help both of them.)

It did make for a very satisfying epilogue though, seeing Astarion settled and the two of them comfortable with one another. (It didn't matter, because of the way the epilogue is set up, but she actually did add Sebastian's letter to her inventory, just to remind herself that it was worth it.)

4. How do they sleep with their LI?

Kitrye is the little spoon, with him usually having his face buried in her neck. If he's in his cambion form, he tends to curl his tail around her in some way, especially around the legs, in a gesture that's simultaneously protective and possessive. When they were in Menzoberranzan together, she tended to get nightmares as a little present from Lolth, and, on those occasions, he got accustomed to wrapping his wings around her, both to shield her and also to not-so-politely remind Lolth that she was already spoken for. (Always with some pragmatic excuse because, after all, He Doesn't Actually Love Her, Love Is A Weakness, etc. etc. etc.) In his human form, he's more likely to have his arms wrapped around her waist. Given that he's essentially a living furnace, he's often quite literally too hot to handle in either form, and she has definitely woken up in a sweat because he was too close to her and that, combined with Avernus being itself, makes for a ridiculously smothering warmth, but she's also very protective of every bit of genuine intimacy that they have together, especially since Raphael's very selective about how often he's willing to demonstrate it. A couple of centuries or so, post-game, it's actually a stipulation in the contract that is Not NOT A Devilish Marriage Contract Between Them (over 500 pages and counting) that The Archdevil Raphael Is Obliged To Come to Bed No Later Than 2 AM. While he will be the first to try to find loopholes as a way to stay scheming in his office for longer into the early morning, he's equally protective of that time together in his own way, it isn't a one-sided thing, and he was actually the one to stay over first, much to her shock (of all the ways she'd pegged him, in various ways, shapes, and forms, she hadn't pegged the devil as the sort to stay after sex for a cuddle), but, when they're not in the bedroom, he tends to be incredibly reserved, especially early on when he was still navigating having Squishy Feelings at ALL, so it's a very important space for the two of them besides the obvious.

Sometimes, when infernal politics are getting to be too much, they change things up, with her letting him fall asleep on her lap, often while she strokes his hair or plays the lyre to soothe him a little. This applies to all of his forms, including, when things are VERY bad, his Ascended Fiend form.

18. What modern day TV show would they binge over the weekend? Do they get their LI to watch with them?

I think that there are two distinct stages in what Kitrye would be interested in. In her early character development, shows like Succession and Game of Thrones would be a little too real for her, but as she gets more cynical and calculating, I think they'd appeal. It's funny because I'm extremely critical of a lot of his stuff (and from what I've seen of how they adapted it), but I think that she would really like Mike Flanagan's Fall of the House of Usher -- horrible people plotting (just like home) and getting exactly what they deserve, a devilish character weaving her way in and out of the narrative...for Kitrye later in her character development, it's perfect.

In her earlier years, she's going to go for shows that emphasize hope and overcoming the odds -- and since she does love animals and has some skills in animal handling, it might be shows like, say, My Cat From Hell (which her companions have absolutely memed by putting Raphael's face over the image of the cat in the ad and Kitrye's face over Jackson's.) Kitrye has a taste for the high life and culture, so it wouldn't be anything TOO trashy, unfortunately.

Given that Kitrye has proficiency in History and Religion (she multi-classes as a cleric), I'm not sure whether she would ENJOY period dramas or nitpick them. (She decides to spend one evening watching the 2011 Jane Eyre and Crimson Peak and has to take a very, very long moment to look at her life, look at her choices.) If Raphael keeps his canon age, she would absolutely bring him along just for him to poke holes in the accuracy. For what it's worth, Raphael in any verse is much more keen to drag her to a theatre production -- he has a regular box reserved at several prominent opera houses after making a deal with the various owners.

[roach-works]

i politely but STRONGLY disagree: you can’t fix homestuck. it was finished in such a way as to deliberately break it and leave it broken and have that brokenness stand as a monument to the waste of it all.

you can not fix homestuck because it is, by its nature, on every level, a story about the futility of stories, and a story about breaking stories, and a story about how stories break the people inside them and outside them and trying to escape from them and watching helpless from outside.

in every act, from every perspective, the story breaks. it breaks the fourth wall. it breaks the timeline. it betrays its own premises repeatedly, it breaks promises, it subverts expectations and then subverts those subversions. it contradicts itself and laughs at you for expecting honesty. it sets characters up and drops them to shatter. it tells you that this time maybe you’ll kick the football and then it eats the football.

you can’t fix homestuck because it does not want you to. it would be like trying to fix a smashed egg with a dead chicken while the kitchen’s on fire. you’re trying to do something that’s too late, that’s always been too late.

like, this is the insane power of this fantastic, bewildering tragedy: it is so broken that it breaks your heart. ten years later you still want to fix it, and you couldn’t then and you won’t now. two vast and trunkless legs of stone lie in the desert and on their shattered pedestal is a dick joke that hates you personally.

incredible piece of work. 0/10 stars. 10/10 stars. and a fist full of penis.

hey i just wanted to say thanks for still expressing positive sentiments towards homestuck even after all this time. most BNFs aren't creating fanworks as much anymore (no one could maintain that intensity forever tbh!) but when they completely divorce themselves from that part of their life it's just... those creations brought a lot of joy, and it's extra sad when they feel the need to go scorched earth. i'm happy your works are still around and i really do wish you all the best going forward!

i think a lot of us abandoned homestuck because of two factors: the first was the collapse of the proudly sex-positive fandom space that let us be weird and creative without fear or shame, and the second was the fact that homestuck ended, then launched several epilogues, in a way that seemed specifically designed to mock fans for caring.

like, some very dark, sad, awful things seemed to happen to hussie, and he certainly did not have a good time with his own fandom. but from the perspective of someone in the audience, if a show i love turns on me and starts directly insulting me for loving it, caring for it, and hoping for the best, i get up and leave the theater.

'isn't it horrible to be the hero? aren't stories just prisons? isn't love ultimately meaningless? isn't hope the main driver of tragedy?' sure, fine. yeah. you're not the first man to ask these questions. they're big damn questions!

'aren't you stupid for sitting there and watching me ask these questions? because the answer is that i'm an idiot for asking them and you're twice an idiot for thinking that the answers might be worth the wait.' now you're just being an asshole to yourself, your story, and your audience. im taking my toys and going home.

homestuck was a brilliant, fascinating, unprecedented monument to storycraft... and it ended like a sandcastle getting kicked over by a toddler. that, to me, is the central tragedy of the piece.

[phoenixyfriend]

Force-Sensitive Satine Kryze

Canon Satine isn't Force Sensitive but I think that, as an AU, I could take this to insane places. Let's go.

Satine isn't particularly gifted. She's also, being Mandalorian, not getting sent to the Jedi. They find her a private tutor to learn the basics of how to protect her mind, and it's very Whatever. Then war breaks out, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon show up, that's all... happening.

Satine's not very gifted with prescience, or moving things with her brain, or healing. What she does have is an overdeveloped magical empathy, which is. Really not great to have in a war.

She's feeling the pain and anger and grief of everyone they meet, and it only intensifies her pacifism as an ideal. She knows how these people feel, even the warriors. She can't let herself allow it to keep happening.

Her sense of magical empathy is very geared towards 'feel emotions.' She's. Still not very good at 'see it from their point of view.' Obi-Wan finds this aspect of her really interesting in a 'I want to get to know you' kind of way. Qui-Gon finds it interesting in an 'I want to study you' kind of way.

A rumor reaches them that Tor Viszla is still alive and running around with the Darksaber. Obi-Wan points out that, objectively, Satine does have the Force, and while her prescience is barely enough to deflect a blaster shot, it's... well, it is enough for that, and so she's probably better equipped to fight a saber battle than Tor is.

Satine hates the idea of fighting for her pacifism, but she acknowledges that Qui-Gon has a point when he says 'fighting one man to end a war in a way that will likely earn you his allies through tradition is a neat way to avoid further deaths', so she learns to saberfight whenever they're stuck in a safe house and in hurry-up-and-wait mode.

So she learns lightsaber skills. She's not terrible, because even as a pacifist, she learned self-defense and has conditioning, and being on the run has really kept her cardio up.

Tor doesn't come out of the woodwork. He's been dead, actually, for all that the rumors say otherwise. Pre, though, has a darksaber with him, and he's not yet ready to pretend to be a pacifist. He's still Campaigning For Political Backing From Traditionalists.

Except, well, then he does. You know. These things happen. Plans change.

And everything ends, more or less normally.

Obi-Wan does something incredibly dumb and gifts Satine his kyber crystal. He's a little stupid and very in love. It's fine.

Satine knows how to make a lightsaber, and she has a crystal. She doesn't do it, really, but she keeps the parts in a pouch on her belt and the kyber on a necklace, and she's... it's fine. She doesn't like carrying a weapon, but a saber can be used in a purely defensive capacity, and this one is usually deconstructed.

Pre kicks off a plan early. He is, for whatever reason, now of the opinion that Satine is honorable. A coward that's destroying whatever he believes is good about Mandalore, but an honorable coward, who will bow to the wishes of the people if it's clear that the majority disagree with her.

And obviously the way that this happens is that Pre shows up with the darksaber and declares himself the (new) rightful Mand'alor.

Satine... hates this. She really does. She does not want to do this.

She invites him to a publicity courtyard. There are already cameras everywhere. Reporters are streaming in. Pre is so ready for this.

Satine removes her necklace and opens her pouch and uses the Force to build her saber in front of the disbelieving eyes of millions.

She holds it before her and says, "For the sake of tradition, and for the sake of ending this conflict with as few deaths and pain as is possible, I challenge you for the Darksaber and title of Mand'alor, Pre Vizsla. If I win, you and your allies will swear to me, and we can avoid another civil war."

It's like. It's a really great way to piss so many people off.

She's using tradition to ruin tradition!

(Satine is so tired of these neofasc jackasses. Come on, guys. This is literally about ensuring less suffering.)

Pre can't back out. He's arguing FOR tradition, and Satine is using that against him. He can't reject someone willing to fight him for the darksaber on equal terms.

Satine barely has any armor, really. It's been sitting on a stand, cared-for but unused, for years.

But she puts it on and takes her place, and she fights Pre.

She wins, and holds the Darksaber aloft, and declares her new title, as both Duchess and Mand'alor, and this is projected across the galaxy for all to know.

Everyone's really quiet after Satine makes her declaration, because Pre just lost a hand, and Satine's ignoring him, and she looks REALLY unhappy about any of this having happened at all, and then one of the Death Watch commandos steps forward, goes to one knee, and removes her helmet, and Satine's just like "Wait, BO?" because she's been under the impression that Bo-Katan died like five years back.

Bo-Katan doesn't look any happier than anyone else here, but her older sister just won the Darksaber in honorable combat and goddammit, Bo-Katan is going to honor that.

Later that night, Satine and Obi-Wan talk on the phone for hours just so she can bitch about how much she hates this entire situation.

Jango, a bounty hunter who still hasn't been tapped for the Kamino project, finds out via Galactic News Channels.

He's not happy. He's not a Satine fan.

He's not sure what he can do about it other than fight her for the saber, except he's not sure he deserves to do that after Galidraan.

I think he just goes to Mandalore and tells her that he's here to be an advisor and no she cannot refuse to hire him. He's here now. Deal with it.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Beautifully Spent

aka Five Times Lan Qiren Left The Lan Sect Behind

- Chapter 2 -

A/N: As a note, each of these chapters is a separate story with a different point of divergence from canon timeline.

When Lan Wangji was six years old, and Lan Xichen nine, their mother died, breaking their hearts. Even Lan Qiren, who had never liked He Kexin and might have even hated her for having ruined all his dreams of travel, felt her absence keenly – he kept thinking of her at odd times, a matter of irrepressible habit. I should tell her about this next week, he would think as he watched his nephews accomplish something, or, upon receiving an offer to go night-hunting, We can’t go because we wouldn’t be able to make it back in time for the monthly visit, and then he’d abruptly remember she was dead and there would be no more monthly visits.

One time, sitting and watching Lan Wangji carefully practice his calligraphy during the time that would normally have been their monthly visit, he even found himself inexplicably wiping tears out of his eyes. It had been a struggle, but they’d finally gotten Lan Wangji to stop going to her door, ignoring snow and chill to wait there as if simply willing it would allow the door to open again, but he remained overly quiet, even quieter than he’d been before, the loss hurting him deeply, and seeing him hurt had hurt Lan Qiren. He tried to be subtle about it, to hide his abrupt display of emotionality, but before he knew it, Lan Wangji had come over to stand by his side, his little hands holding his own, earnestly mumbling, “Don’t cry, shufu, it’ll be all right” in an echo of what Lan Qiren had been trying so ineffectually to say to him.

“Yes,” he said, wiping harder, and ultimately giving up entirely and letting the tears stream down his cheeks, hiding his face entirely behind one of his sleeves. Lan Xichen found them at some point and curled up into Lan Qiren’s other side, tears starting to slowly seep down his own face; trying to hold back their strange shared grief was like trying to stop the tide. “It will be all right, eventually. I promise.”

He had made that promise too soon, it seemed: less than a week later, one of the elders remarked that it was time for Lan Xichen to take up some of the duties of running a sect.

“What?” Lan Qiren asked, blinking. “You’re joking. He’s nine.”

“He’s the future sect leader,” the elder said, and his gaze was cold. “Never forget, Teacher Lan, that although you fill the role now, you are only a custodian in his name.”

“That’s not the point I was making,” Lan Qiren said, frustrated; he had never been very good with words or with people. “Of course he will inherit the position, given time. But he is not even old enough for his own sword, and years away from night-hunting – why would you burden him with sect business? He’s far too young.”

“He is at exactly the right age to begin. How else can we ensure that he will not fall into the failings of his father or the crimes of his mother?”

“He is a child,” Lan Qiren stressed, wondering what he was missing. “We can only teach him to the best of our abilities, and hope that he does well with it; there’s nothing else that can be done.”

The elder shook his head. “We cannot take the risk of another generation of disaster. He must be trained, and trained now, trained well. If we do not take action, it may be too late, and he will be ruined.”

As you were, he didn’t say, but Lan Qiren felt keenly the burn of humiliation. He had never lived up to their expectations the way his brother had, and then his brother had gone and failed them all, too.

“What exactly are you thinking?” he asked, trying to dismiss the feeling of foreboding in his belly. An introduction to the burdens Lan Xichen would eventually face would not be so far amiss – a shichen a week of helping to transcribe simple letters, perhaps, or running errands, the sort of thing a boy could do and not be bored; that wouldn’t be too bad.

That wasn’t what they had in mind at all.

They wanted Lan Xichen to start tackling political problems at once, forcing him to make real decisions, deal with paperwork, and then also three times the usual lessons in sword and music, all the skills he would need to have. And all this, of course, on top of his regular lessons –

“We can assist, of course,” one of the elders said to the others, ignoring Lan Qiren’s aghast expression entirely. “But the sooner he grows accustomed to the work, the sooner he can step up –”

“You’ll crush him!” Lan Qiren exclaimed, interrupting, and he never interrupted the elders. “He’s a child, and a child who just lost his mother at that – how can you even suggest this? He would have no time to study in depth rather than shallowly, no time to think, to become his own person –”

“We will polish him into a perfect jade,” an elder said. “Him, and the younger one, too. What more do they need than to be of service to the sect?”

It wasn’t that Lan Qiren disagreed that service to their sect was the highest good, or that scholarly and martial pursuits were of the highest caliber, far more important than aimless play. He was a teacher, a strict one, and the sect rules accorded with his understanding: Learning comes first. But at the same time, there was learning and then there was learning – he was a teacher who cared for his students’ well-being, too. He knew that the approach proposed would not polish Lan Xichen into a jade but mold him instead, brutally pruning away any part of him that did not accord with the elders’ wishes.

It was just what they’d done to Lan Qiren the moment he became acting sect leader, after all.

They’d loaded him up with responsibilities until he’d nearly worked himself sick, refused to grant him the slightest freedom to travel even in a small and supervised manner, and they’d tried to force him to recant even those few things he did enjoy – composing music, teaching children. If he hadn’t already been as old as he was when it started, he wouldn’t have had the strength of will or determination to preserve even those few little things of his own…

“He should move into the hanshi soon,” another elder agreed. “If we expect him to take on the responsibilities of an adult, he should be treated as one.”

“Agreed. The sooner he disengages from messing around with his peers, the better. They will only distract him from what he needs to do.”

“I do not agree with this,” Lan Qiren said. “I am his guardian and his teacher. I do not agree.”

“I’m disappointed in you, Qiren,” one of the elders said, and Lan Qiren felt an automatic wash of shame, instinctive and ingrained after all these years. “You took the sect leader position with the knowledge that it would not truly be yours, and now you wish to preserve your personal power longer?”

I never wanted the position, which offers only power in exchange for its brutal demands! I still don’t want it! But to put it onto a child, any child, much less my own nephew who I love – how could I agree to that?

“You must not be selfish, as your brother was,” another elder scolded him, and normally Lan Qiren would be the first to agree. Being like his brother was his worst fear, and one he would do anything to avoid – but at the moment, the reminder felt wrong, as if they were using it as a tool to manipulate him rather than expressing what they really thought. “Do not cling to power and authority, after all. You cannot and must not steal what belongs to your nephews, Qiren. Never forget your place.”

Lan Qiren stared at him mutely. His place?

He had never been selfish. He had sacrificed everything – he had been filial and loyal, obedient to his elders, and they had taken everything from him, just as they planned to do to the two children that had been entrusted to his care. The only difference was that Lan Qiren had been allowed to live freely for a little while, and even that freedom was only because the elders had utterly ignored him in favor of his more talented brother, who had been protected by the love of his powerful father; for his nephews, who were all but orphaned and left only in his inferior care, there was no such defense.

This time, it was clear that the elders meant to rectify the situation – this time, they wouldn’t even leave Lan Wangji his childhood, let alone Lan Xichen.

They would hollow them out and leave them as little more than puppets, blindly obeying the rules without having the time to contemplate their meaning. They would squeeze out every moment of every day, turning each endless shichen into a joyless burden, transforming the rules into little more than a yoke to chain them – his nephews wouldn’t be Lan, who chose willingly to obey because they loved the rules and loved their sect and wanted to give everything for it. They would be little better than slaves.

Perhaps, Lan Qiren thought suddenly, it was not his selfishness that the elders were constantly seeking to correct. Perhaps it was their own.

He tried, first and foremost, to argue with them, but they did not listen to him. They had never listened to him, not from the first moment he had yielded to their wishes over his own desires and allowed himself to be trapped in the Cloud Recesses as the new sect leader. No – it was even older than that, from even before then, from as far back as when he had been small and helpless and crying out for help in his own way, not even knowing what was happening to him and why…

They had always turned their faces away.

Lan Qiren had tried his best to please them, and had failed. He’d thought the blame lay with him, but now he wasn’t so sure – now he thought that it didn’t matter what he did, that he never would.

Lan Qiren’s nephews were the ones who were small and helpless now, and unlike the elders that should have watched over him, he would not turn away.

The plan he hatched was ruthless in the extreme, but there was nothing else he could think of in his desperation. The Lan sect had always been very secretive, in its own way, keeping outsiders from knowing their personal business; although everyone within the sect knew that it was the elders who held all the real power, even if they disdained the work of it and left much of that for Lan Qiren to accomplish, from the outside it appeared as though Lan Qiren were sect leader, invested with all the powers of one.

To be a sect leader, in their day and age, was to be a tyrant.

No need to look at Wen Ruohan, the chief example of this trend, a man who made his sect kneel and touch their heads to the floor upon hearing that he was coming. It was enough to look instead at the Jiang sect, whose sect leader Jiang Fengmian whiled away his days waiting for his old lover to write, ignoring his wife despite her maternal family’s power and influence within his territory. Look at the Jin sect, where Jin Guangshan bedded every prostitute and poor young lady within range, surrounded by a cloud of rumors regarding whether he’d bothered to get all of them to consent – rumors there might be, but no one dared to make any trouble for him over it without actual proof. Look at Lao Nie, whose sect, elders and all, sighed and shook their heads over his excessive fondness for dangerous people, but could take no action to stop him.

Look at Lan Qiren’s father, who had spoiled one child into madness and neglected the other into near despair, and had trained his whole sect to accept it as a given. Lan Qiren was working to repair that damage, to lead by example, but it was a hard upward struggle – rot might start at the head, and healing, too, but the healing was harder than the rotting.

A sect leader, in short, was a tyrant.

And as far as the world was concerned, Lan Qiren was the sect leader.

Lan Qiren bided his time until the next discussion conference. It hurt him to wait, seeing poor Lan Xichen get stretched thin under his new duties and constantly reminded to keep a serene smile on his face throughout, seeing poor Lan Wangji so stressed at his brother’s misery and his own amplified lessons that he'd started biting people again, but he knew it was necessary. A discussion conference meant outsiders, and outsiders meant not losing face; it was the one time that Lan Qiren was actually treated as a sect leader by all around him, the one time no one would gainsay anything he said, even if they would later tear strips off of him in private.

It was his only chance.

"I have an announcement," he said mildly, presiding over the large gathering that marked the conclusion of the discussion conference. His Lan sect was the host of this conference, and he was accordingly seated at the head of the room, equal with the other Great Sects but given additional deference in view of the location - it was easy for his voice to carry, despite his quiet tone, and all the sects turned towards him to listen. They were probably expecting something anodyne, some additional prize or information about the weather to keep in mind as they departed. "I have decided that my Lan sect's ties to the rest of the cultivation world have grown stale, seeing each other as we do only at these times and the common people only on night hunts. As a result, in my authority as Sect Leader Lan, I intend to make a journey throughout the various sects, taking along my nephews to introduce them to your families. In my absence, the Cloud Recesses will be managed by my cousin, Lan Yueheng -"

Talk exploded in the whole audience, furious and loud, all but his own Lan sect which was calm and stone-faced as always, though of course that was only their pride and concern for face overwhelming their shock. Poor Lan Yueheng was the exception, of course, his jaw dropping open like a weight dropped from a great height until his neighbors noticed and elbowed him in the side to make him stop - Lan Qiren mentally apologized for not having warned his cousin up front. He hadn't dared to risk it. 

" - and accordingly I will be leaving alongside the rest of you at the conclusion of this conference," he concluded, for once relieved that his voice never varied far from a monotone; he sounded cool and calm and in control, and like he hadn't noticed the way his sect elders were trying to strangle him with their gaze even as the maintained decorum. "Our first destination is the Nie sect's Unclean Realm, with Lao Nie as our host."

Lan Qiren hadn't warned Lao Nie, either, but he knew him well, and to his relief hadn't misjudged him - the other man didn't spare so much as a moment to blink in surprise, instead grinning broadly at the other sect leaders.

"You bet you are," he laughed, his voice booming and loud. "And don't think I'll let you leave so quickly, Qiren - not until your nephews are best friends with my sons, and not until you've had a chance to work your magic on my sect's younger generation and turn them from little beasts into proper gentlemen!"

Lan Qiren barely resisted rolling his eyes - he still didn't know who it was that had come up with the nonsense about him being able to turn the most hopeless waste into a gentleman, but it was rank exaggeration. But to his surprise, the first person to respond was the head of one of the more distant small sects, Baling Ouyang, a young man with an excitable temperament; he leapt up to his feet and exclaimed, "Will he really? Sect Leader Lan, I insist you visit my Ouyang sect next, if you haven't made firm plans - I scarcely recognized my little hellion nephews after a season in your care, all grown up, careful in thought and action, compassionate and upright...and no more pranks!"

Another exaggeration. The Ouyang twins had been troublesome only at the start, until Lan Qiren realized that what they longed for most was recognition as separate beings rather than a collective whole; as soon as he'd treated them with respect, and showed them how to act in return, they'd taken to his lessons like a desert to water. 

"Sect Leader Lan's skill in teaching is very well known," Sect Leader Yao said, always first to speak after his friend from the Ouyang sect. "You'll really come to our sects to do it, rather than our children to the Cloud Recesses? And you won't charge, of course...?"

"Naturally no," Lan Qiren said, a little puzzled by their enthusiasm. Was it so expensive to send children to the Cloud Recesses? He’d never charged for his lessons, although he supposed there was the cost of travel and maintenance to the standard preferred by students, and of course guest gifts were customary, although he never made any demands. "I would be your guest, and enjoying your hospitality – room and board would be more than sufficient…"

"In that case, you should come to Pingyang next -"

"No, Yueyang!" someone else called, and before Lan Qiren knew exactly what was happening, the sect leaders were arguing over who he should visit first. The most enthusiastic were the ones whose children he had taught already, but the others were quick to catch up, loathe to miss out on what they perceived to be a good deal - even Wen Ruohan, never one to lose out to others when it came to something perceived of as desirable, extended an offer with a smug, snake-like smile. 

Lan Qiren provisionally accepted all the offers with a growing sense of relief: with such public acceptance, the Lan sect would lose more face by refusing to let him go than in allowing his unorthodox action. It was just as he has hoped, and more successful than he'd dared to dream; the other sects had fixated on his teaching skills and in doing so had ignored the strangeness of a sect leader taking his heirs and all but running away from home. 

That relief carried him through to the end of the meeting, when everyone divided up to pack up their things, and Lan Qiren returned to the inner parts of his sect to do the same.

"What are you thinking?" one of the elders demanded the second they were alone. "Have you gone mad?"

"Did you see the reception of my idea?" Lan Qiren replied, hiding the giddiness of relief under a facade of calm. "The sect will benefit greatly from the connections we will make."

"That's no answer!"

Lan Qiren was a filial child; even if they were wrong, he would not tell the elders so to their faces. Instead he only bowed deeply and said, "What's done is done. I need to get ready, and quickly; it would be embarrassing if we weren't prepared."

Of course, he'd already packed everything he thought he'd need, determined to take Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji with him no matter what - it was only luck that his plan had worked as well as it had, allowing him to pretend to some move of subtle strategic genius rather than a retreat out of desperation. Still, he needed to go through the motions.

"Fine," another elder spat out, although their demeanor made it clear that it wasn't fine at all. "But did you have to announce that the provisional leader was Lan Yueheng? He's completely unfit!"

By which they meant that he wouldn't listen to them - that he was brash and lacked tact, said what he thought and cared for nothing but his experiments, his wife, and his children. Out of all of Lan Qiren’s cousins, he was the most thick-faced, shameless to the extreme, essentially immune to criticism or guilt. 

That was, of course, exactly why Lan Qiren had picked him.

"He's good at math and accounting, and at arranging provisioning," Lan Qiren said, picking the more acceptable reason. "That's the key responsibility left over, isn't it? Everything else, I can do through correspondence."

The reassurance that Lan Qiren would still be doing his duty to the sect - would still be accountable to them - helped settle some ruffled feathers. It wouldn't be pleasant to try to do the work of sect leader from abroad, Lan Qiren knew; it would mean a lot of sleepless nights slaving away by candlelight, with no support from any aides, bearing all the weight himself. No doubt the elders knew it too, and figured that he'd soon enough lose interest in what he heard them calling, in hushed voices where they thought he could not hear, his "little show of rebellion".

Lan Qiren didn't care. The sooner they left, the better the chances that the elders would continue to be deceived into thinking that Lan Qiren was doing all this for his own sake - some last stab at achieving his long forgotten dreams, doomed to inevitable disappointment - instead of what it really was, which was freedom for his nephews. They couldn't be assigned work or classes from a distance; their education would be wholly in Lan Qiren’s hands.

He'd take a thousand sleepless nights of overwork if it meant they got to be children a little longer.

"Are we really going to the Unclean Realm?" Lan Wangji lisped, looking even more rosy-cheeked and excited than usual. "Will – will Nie-gongzi will be there?"

"Yes, Mingjue-xiong will be there," Lan Xichen said, and grinned at Lan Qiren over his brother’s head. He looked more carefree than he had in...possibly years, and Lan Qiren briefly regretted how long it had taken him to do this. "Since you like him so much."

Lan Wangji turned bright red at once.

"Both of the Nie boys will be there," Lan Qiren said. "The younger one is closer to your age, Wangji. You can get to know him as well."

Lan Qiren went next to the library pavilion, looking for books on their sect rules - he might not trust his sect elders, but he loved his sect, loved their rules and traditions, and he wanted his nephews to love it, too. He wanted them to see the Cloud Recesses as a refuge, as a haven - not a burden.

He would give his nephews the freedom he'd longed for, and when they were older...when they were older, more resilient, more sure of who they were, he would bring them back and he would ensure that they obtained their rightful inheritance. In full, not in part - Lan Xichen would be a real sect leader, not a puppet for the elders, taught only to be pleasant and yielding and to perform well with his cultivation, swordsmanship and music only for the purpose of impressing outsiders. Lan Wangji would be his brother’s right hand, would love and respect him and be loved and respected in turn.

Maybe, Lan Qiren thought to himself, amused, they would even find some compatible child on their way and one day return to bring them home as a dao companion.

He couldn't wait to find out.

[ruby-whistler]

Alright curious anon here. All this is /dsmp /rp from here on out unless otherwise specified and is refering to characters. If i make any mistakes or am misinformed please let me know! So by the cat was nothing compared to mushroom henry i was meaning more toward the fact that the cow was killed as a punishment for something not worth or ok for it to be killed for at all and the fact that it belonged to tommy, wheareas the cat was killed more to annoy dream and belonged to tommy. (1/?)

alright then another lengthy reply, here i come! /lh /dsmp /rp

Dream also did not seem to mourn the cat much, shrugging it off with a "just more motivation to break out".

it was killed to hurt dream, not to "annoy him". it doesn't matter who it belonged to, c!dream was attached to it and it died, which had an effect on him and also further proved his point about attachments being weakness and caring getting you hurt, and it's still very sad.

you say that it was not ok at all to kill mooshroom henry, but the cat's death wasn't ok either, so i really don't see your point.

again, i disagree it was "nothing compared to" either way. i never meant to compare them in the first place, i was simply talking about the cat and c!dream so i don't see why it is in any way necessary to drag c!tommy and other dead pets into this. /nm

also, it isn't true he didn't mourn it. he is a very reserved person who doesn't show his feelings much, that's true, but the cat death still changed the way he acted afterwards, as well as the attempts he made to prevent it. he didn't "shrug it off", he yelled about it because he was understandably upset.

You mentioned that propganda was used to make dream seem like a tyrant, could you specify a bjt? Cus im a little confused srry /gen. Because the most i can remember from the lmanburg era at least is him being called a b'tch or other similar insults. You also mentioned how trauma responses can be differet which is true! I agree! Do you have any ideas to what caused dream the trauma?

wilbur would continuously make him out to be some sort of oppressive, tyrannical force, in front of his troops - a prime example of this being the lyrics of the l'manberg anthem itself and the l'manberg declaration of independence.

actually! here's a nice thread about l'manberg's establishment complete with links, timestamps and evidence :]

i also said in my previous post what could've possibly caused it, but since the character intentionally hides his emotions from the public, it would be difficult to see how things really affected him - which is why the way his spiral went is the majority of the evidence that would imply it, however it does make sense within the story as well with what i mentioned last time.

I would like to note that for sapnap at least had reason to leave dream. Some examples off the top of my head are dream leading an angry fundy to sapnap's pets on purpose, resulting in some deaths, dream assisting tommy in burning down sapnap's effiel tower where he got engaged to karl, and dream giving tommy either mars or the other fish at the battle of the lake. Idk about george tho other then the whole mexican lmanburg/el rapids thing and decrowning him

c!sapnap was actually at fault for most of this, and it wasn't really ever betrayal on c!dream's part.

c!dream is a mediator and he wants to stop everyone's conflict - c!fundy was angry because of c!sapnap's actions, and hence it made more sense for c!dream to centre him on c!sapnap's animals instead of running around killing everyone's pets (at that time, all c!dream knew was c!sapnap did something really bad and c!fundy wanted beckerson / mars from him, which were also his and c!george's fish).

c!sapnap was an instigator, and in multiple conflicts during the time as well as before he'd align himself against c!dream. he isn't "loyal" per se, he causes chaos and the reason c!dream helped c!tommy was because, c!sapnap, again, killed his pet. the first l'manberg war and then the 16th are signs of the fact that c!dream and c!sapnap were willing to fight together in actual war, but these small conflicts where c!sapnap continuously picked fights weren't about personal loyalty, nor did they seem to affect their relationship at all.

c!george was never really hurt by c!dream either. the dethronement was him very obviously being a guilt-trippy drama queen, but, well, that's just the character. he had stolen the l'mantree while he was supposed to be the diplomatic figure of the greater smp, which is why c!dream was justified in - very politely, may i mention - taking the duties off of him (seeing as he was also trying to keep him safe and c!techno had already assassinated him once).

Im pretty sure i remember cc!sam stating that his character never canonically physically tortured dream during his subathon but take this with a grain of salt as i am looking for the clip currently. So to the best of my knowledge dream did not have a physical contact trigger during tommy's visit which! I rewatched the vod and dream actually was first to hit tommy and i can give you my full writing downs but 10/12 of the phy-

you never finished this point because you had to go do something, but i'll reply to what is here at the moment (i suggest writing these down before sending next time, or even writing them out wholly before sending a single one could help avoid stuff like this).

i am 95% sure that the reason cc!sam stated this was because people were suspicious he had already been doing what c!quackity was doing after - torture within the storyline itself is associated pretty much only with what c!quackity is doing, so that's what he meant, just to clear up confusion - the starvation or terrible conditions haven't been retconned, but it was direct torture (like c!quackity is doing) people were asking him about.

i never said c!dream had a physical contact trigger at all, i don't think he had that, though he probably will after the torture.

huh, ok, i'm gonna have to rewatch then, but i remember c!tommy punching c!dream a lot and him just telling him to stop and only punching back to get him to stop. trigger or not, getting hit isn't very pleasant, if you know what i mean.

You mentioned tommy stealing dream's armor unprovoked. Do you have the vod or a general idea of the time so i can find it? Like before lmanburg after another event so and so because if you do not have it i can find it but any help is appreciated.

i am pretty sure you can find the video on cc!tommy's channel! there are also recaps of the disc war on youtube :]

I wanna talk a little on why the Final Control Room was so messed up. For starters, with the way the room was designed. It was small, and had labeled, empty chests with each person's name on them as a mockery. The next reason is that its bascially a kill box.

It's fairly inescapble with the stairs being ones you have to jump up, slowing anyone who climbs them down. The final reason it is messed up is that it is shown to have caused every person who died in it trauma. With tommy there are several examples, the time he saw it with techno, the way he refuses to go near it, the exposure trauma, etc. Fundy also appears to have trauma, as when the Red Banquet executions began, it can be seen as him being afraid of dying last again.

It can Be thought as tubbo having trauma because he buries most of his issues and pretends to be ok. Moreover this event took at least one of each person's canon lives, making it the most canon lives lost EVER in a dream smp event. (This is not hate on any of the ccs btw i loved this scene and its one of my personal favorites). Plus the fact Eret's betrayal just literally happened, giving at least Tommy and Wilbur canonic trust issues.

i wouldn't call the chests mockery? it was a trap. people had traps on the smp before. it was a trap in the middle of war, supposed to end said war by killing them all at once rather than individually which would be a lot more bloody and difficult.

i agree c!tommy and other people might have post-war trauma, especially if they were young during the time, but i think that's because the final control room was "messed up", moreso because the war itself was. it all happened fairly instantly as well? i don't think c!fundy would be able to realize he was the last one standing within the two second before he wasn't.

it "can be thought" and it can be interpreted like that but besides c!tommy there isn't much evidence for them "all" being traumatized by the final control room. of course betrayal would spark trust issues, i understand that.

The probation was humiliating in my opinion because dream was Sending tommy anatgonizing messages through out the whole meeting, plus he had to write a review of his day every single day, which fundy mocked him for.

i mean, it was definitely a strike to his pride, but he was being extremely uncooperative so i don't really blame the other members of new l'manberg trying to teach him to listen for once? of course i know c!dream was riling him up, and that should definitely be considered. i don't think it would be as humiliating if c!tommy didn't make it, is what i'm saying.

for the tommy being toxic to fundy? At least for the examples you gave, to me personally they come acoross as either in a meta way being the cc's bantering or in canon being the characters having banter. If you can send the post with the clips so i can read the tone better that would be cool but if not i will try and find em.

no, these were all in canon. canon isn't only when c!tommy is being nice, it's also when he's being a jerk. /lh

the first one was him threatening c!fundy about kicking him out of l'manberg and undermining his self-worth, and the second one was him trying to get c!sapnap to vote for them via bullying c!fundy.

i found these from a transcript focusing on c!fundy's character, so i don't know exactly where the first one is from, but the second one i am pretty sure is from when the elections were starting with the whole cabinet battle deal and all of that.

there are other instances, and all of them are canon. his personality was never being nice or compassionate, so i'm not really surprised? he still cares about the people he cares about and is very brave, y'know. but this part of his personality is definitely a valid reason for people to dislike him.

I hope the exam went well :). Hope u have a great day! (Ps i think theres something called a submission box to send in pictures? Am not entirely sure sry)

it would've gone well but my work-speed is a tad too slow for the schooling system (considering i'm three years younger than my classmates,,, probably that's also a factor) so probably not despite the fact i knew everything and would've aced it if i only had more time. i did as well as i could so i'm not worried about it, but thanks!

i think you're thinking submissions. sadly, i tested it and it doesn't work on anons, so idk how you'd solve that, maybe make a burner account?

Curious anon here one point you may wanna include in the redemption essay is that c!tubbo or c!tommy do not necessarily have to forgive him. What's important is that he recognizes what he did was wrong (exile, beating tommy to death, manipulating them both, etc) and does his best to make amends. Hope this helps! Can't wait to see your essay

it's out, idk if you've seen it yet, and i think i included enough of that so hope it's all good! :)

the mcc update video is out if you are an mcc enjoyer. It's very neat, if you wanna check it out

yeah! i am a fellow mcc enjoyer, saw it already, thanks for telling me though, i'm really hype for today.

Allo curious anon here sorry if the lots of asks bother you. I was just curious if i could share an interesting post i saw today about c!dream :0 (not necessarily negative i think? More of a statement of an often-confused canon)

sure thing! i don't know what you mean by often-confused since, the entire fanbase is very confused always, and often selection bias plays into the perception from both sides, but sure :]

you also sent in a thing for the other anon who said they didn't know what c!dream did that bad; pretty sure they couldn't really be alerted since, not sure if they watch my blog that closely, but i'll summarize your points just in case and add some notes;

the repeated blowing up of l'manberg (in my mind that's largely a positive since i,, despise that country, but fair enough), revealed c!ranboo as a traitor (they seem to be friends so i also,, think that might've been planned between him and enderboo), sent ghostbur away (i don't think c!dream knew it was dangerous for him and wanted to actually hurt him, but idk), participated in fighting against c!sapnap when he killed people's pets (that's only negative against c!sapnap and didn't seem to hurt him much at all), and then the whole vault scene where he was allegedly planning to steal people's things (though saying he would & being stopped beforehand and doing it are two different things, frankly).

so i still agree with the other anon that a lot of the hurt he did "to the entire server" (he only negatively interacted with like,, a half of them) is exaggerated both by the characters and the fandom, but i guess that's a consequence of most people seeing him as a threat to everyone's happiness rather than a complex personality.

Also he was aware of the butcher army going to kill techno but only got involved because he saw an opportunity to get a favor. (As he knew in advance due to him telling techno to get a totem, watching from afar instead of interveing or manipulating tubbo out of it)

i don't understand this at all, i'm sorry. how do you know he only helped techno in order to get a favor? last i remember he was only doing it to protect and strengthen his alliance, and techno came up with the whole favor thing entirely on his own. you might've not watched techno's perspective or their prior interactions, idk, but this really is a misinterpretation in my eyes. /nm

sorry if that is overly dream negative i just wanted to let yall know cus you seemed unaware -curious anon

nah dw, i watch the smp and i watched all of these things happen so, wouldn't say unaware, but thanks.

[country-corner]

So honestly, you do think that a civil break up can be negotiated with people like I heard on the Shortwave who is on the other side politically. People who don't care if you are Asian, Black, Hispanic, Middle Eastern, White, Gay or Straight but as long as you are to the right of them, they want you dead.

As I have asked before, and no one wanted to answer, how do you expect to Divorce or Split the country without dividing the Nation literally down the middle and having to mass moving people from one side of the Country to the other? There will be people from both ends of the political spectrum who will not want to move from land that has been in their family for generations. There will be people who will not want to move from family, even if they disagree politically. There will be people who for generations grew up in a certain geographical area (Appalachia, Bayou, Rocky Mountains, Great Plains, ect...) and don't want to move. What then; force them to move? Make them take a loyalty oath and not speak about their political beliefs? Boils down to people would be forced to move or fight ---- Civil War.

And if it's just let the Red States for one country and Blue States form the other, how would you work the few isolated State (that would happen) from the other similar ideological States? Tell them screw you and live as an island? Force them to change ideology to the surrounding States? Forced moving of those who don't agree with the surrounding States? Again Civil War.

What about the States where half leans more Liberal and half leans more Conservative (which describes more than 2/3 of the States). Split the State into 2 new States? Tell them screw, you you are now all Red or all Blue and keep your mouth shut on you political beliefs? What would you do? Negotiate with the guy on the Shortwave who wants anyone to the right of him dead?

What about the existing military personnel? Bases? Equipment? Who gets the nuclear weapons?

Would you leave the Constitution as is? Go back to what it was when originally written? Write a new one to remove what you don't like or add something you want? Can't even get enough people from Red States, let alone Blue States who will agree on a Convention of States to write a new constitution currently. A few States who have voted in the past for a Convention of States have rescinded their call. How do you expect to pull that one out of the bag?

There are people on both ends of the political spectrum itching for a fight and will use any excuse to start a shooting war on American soil.

As for your hyperbole:

"Basically if you vote democrat or oppose national divorce you hate black people and want to make them easier to lynch and put them back in the fields. Vote to keep the union together to lynch all the gays and the blacks."

I know Blacks, Asians, Hispanic, Straight and Gay Conservatives who don't want a National Divorce, so are you saying they want to hang Blacks and gays as well? Or are they just too stupid to know what's best for them (the hyperbole talking point of the Communist)?

Blanket statements like you just said feed upon the Communists, of the mid 20th century, propaganda that Everything is an absolute. It's one way or the other PERIOD. You (generic you) agree with me or you are the enemy.

I have been seeing this my entire life from the Communists and now to see it coming from Conservatives is what's the most scary. Absolutism does nothing except divide. Divides men against women, Divide the races. Divides young and old. Even causes divides within every demographic group you or anyone can come up with.

But, now the diversion from the original post is over. Let me ask you a straight question. If you don't have the answers to the above questions, and even if you do, a National Divorce will be negotiated by politicians, not the farmers, doctors, truck drivers, Soldiers, business men, you or me. Are there enough politicians, on both sides, that you trust who would do a fair division of the US? Do you trust that there will not be someone or groups from either side who would rather start a shooting war to totally kill off the other side and keep all of the US in their political ideology control? How many extremists from both sides of the issue have been trying to start a race war in the US since the 1950's and 60's alone? And if you don't think there isn't someone or a group that will want to start a war instead of divide the US, then you need to take a fresh look at history.

Hear some crazy stuff on the Shortwave radio.

Was listening to the shortwave earlier (I like scanning the World Bands from time to time) and heard a conversation (sounded like a take show of some form). Disclaimer: Not sure where the broadcast was originating from. The person being interviewed was saying that he loved that the White Supremacists, Nazis and Fascist are embracing the idea of a US break up (then laughing said Divorce) finally. But it's not going to work how they think.

(Highlight of a 30+ minute conversation) The freedom loving Democratic States already have the plans drawn up and will make sure to land-lock the Fascist States.... Refuse to let them take from any Democratic State any children into the Fascists States.... Any flight in or out will be shot down.... Cut off or destroy all energy, oil or gas production or supply line to the Fascists States.... Finally, if they try to leave their border they will be shot on sight, like every Nazi in the world needs to be.

Sounds to me like at least one side who wants a National Divorce has been making plans on how they want it to work out.

But that doesn't matter, it will lead to a Civil War, plain and simple. Causing hundreds of thousands if not million+ of deaths on both sides. Not just from the fighting, but from food and medication shortages. If the guy on the Shortwave was even half right in his claims then there will be people also dying of cold in the winter time.

Whether this guy was speaking the truth (as he knew it) or just blowing hot air out of his pipe dreams, if you are for a National Divorce do you honestly think you can negotiate a civil split of the States with people like this? Do you honestly think that a split can happen without a Civil War breaking out?

The scary thing is I have heard people on the right, who want a National Divorce, calling for Conservative States to do to the Communist States practically the same thing. So are they the good guys for calling for the same atrocities that the other side is calling for?

[qqueenofhades]

For the spooky prompts, "Violent Thunderstorms" for Fivan perhaps? 😳

Anonymous asked: Heyyy 2 Vampire for fivan (how to ask for the chapter 2 witout asking for chap 2)

Anonymous asked: Fivan and #2 🧛‍♂️🧛‍♂️

Very well, I see what the people want, and that is a sequel to this one-shot. I have thus combined these prompts for reasons.

Fedyor spends the next fortnight attempting – with notably indifferent success – not to think about Ivan Sakharov. The Conclave was less than pleased to hear that Fedyor came back empty-handed, having not even secured a promise for Ivan and the rest of the Black Hand to leave off their mischief-making, and in fact has empowered them in their belief that there is nothing the law can do to them. Considering the earful that Fedyor got on that accord, he saw nothing to be gained from mentioning that not only did Ivan blow him off completely, he did it after he had fed on him. It’s entirely possible that Ivan accessed sensitive thoughts, memories, or plans, any scrap of useful intelligence that Fedyor did not carefully hide away in his mind before that too-distracting bite. In short, he has comprehensively botched the entire situation, the Conclave is well within their rights to be very angry with him, and to demonstrate the extent of their displeasure, they have temporarily revoked Fedyor’s right to enter their territory and feed on their drones – willing humans kept for the purpose, who are hoping to be selected for the transformation in exchange for their service. That means if Fedyor wants to eat, he has to go out and hunt an animal, or bamboozle and beguile an unwitting passerby to let him chomp on their neck. Truly, being a vampire can be such a terrible drag.

Fedyor figures that if he keeps his head down, meekly accepts his punishment, and doesn’t make any trouble, the Conclave will get over their anger and reinstate him sooner rather than later. It’s not like he has many other options. If he wants to stay in Belgrade, he will remain in their good graces, and he has no desire to get mixed up with the Black Hand. The rumor is that they were founded by the Black Heretic himself, who has remained out of sight for many decades but is now said to be active again, and the Black Heretic is the scion of the Conclave’s greatest enemy, the vampire that all other vampires fear. Absolutely no good can come of throwing one’s lot in with that crowd, and Fedyor wonders if he is going to have to find a new home. If a stupid supernatural war blows up this city, he’s out.

Most of the fortnight passes without incident, but the flaw in the plan is the unfortunate fact that Fedyor is very hungry. He’s still a young enough vampire that he can’t go two weeks without feeding, and he really hates the messy business of corralling an unwitting human. Besides, the Conclave’s headquarters and chief place of business are on Knez Mihailova Ulica, the most fashionable downtown district right in the middle of Belgrade, and what with Fedyor’s current banishment from the premises, he can’t go there anyway. Hunting it has to be.

Fedyor waits until it is dark, a soft summer rain pattering on the steep-roofed eaves and glowing streetlamps, and then, having changed into clothing more suitable for getting a lot of bloodstains, he slips out. He moves silently in the shadows, past the well-dressed gentlemen and evening-gowned ladies out at the ball or the opera or the latest society supper-party, and escapes the precincts of Belgrade proper for the low green hills that surround it. This is on the Sava side of the river confluence, to the west, and once Fedyor is out of the city, the trees close in thickly. They are only broken by the occasional tiny village: small churches with square steeples and double-branched Orthodox crosses, red-tiled cottages crowded together along narrow dirt lanes, a lantern burning here and there to keep the monsters away. Fedyor can hear human voices, sense the shadows of people moving around behind the shutters, and it gives him a pang. No wonder he is clinging so closely to the prospect of timely reinstatement to the Conclave. Without them, he would truly be entirely alone.

The rain starts to come down harder as Fedyor climbs through the thick green underbrush, and by the time he reaches the top of the hill, it is slicing into his face with a vehemence that even a vampire finds intensely disagreeable. Squinting and swearing under his breath, Fedyor shields his eyes and takes a deep whiff, searching for the scent of a prey animal. He could always hop a fence and grab a cow, but cows can kick surprisingly hard, a poor farmer doesn’t need the hassle of his one beast of burden keeling over, and maybe it is just the city-boy aesthete in Fedyor, but crouching in a muddy farmyard, doing your damndest not to get murdered by a large and angry bovine while you valiantly attempt to suck its blood, is just fucking terrible. There’s nothing to recommend it. Now that he’s out of the fledgling bloodlust, Fedyor has no intention of ever going back.

Thunder booms overhead, making him jump, and a jagged spear of lightning sears the horizon from sky to ground. A tree not that far away lights up in blinding white, and a scorched scent of ozone drifts through the pounding rain. Fedyor flinches, as he has no desire to be set on fire, and decides that either he raids a farm or he heads back home and waits for better weather. But he can catch another scent just ahead, and he’s hungry enough to risk it. He breaks into a run, almost loses his footing, dodges around an enormous dripping tree, and spots a thin crescent of lights high on the bluff ahead. Wait, is that a house? Some Serbian royal bureaucrat’s elegant country retreat, or – something else? Fedyor doesn’t recall that he has seen it before, although he has not spent much time out here alone. That, or –

He has only a split second of warning, his supernatural senses screaming at him to get the fuck out of here right now, before he realizes two things at once: first, that the scent is very definitely hostile, and second, that something is dive-bombing directly toward him, on the strength of a ferocious leap that is remarkable even for a vampire. The next second, it – he – hits Fedyor like a ton of bricks, and they go crashing down the slope, kicking and thrashing and biting at each other in a flurry of blows too fast for a human eye to see. Another enormous clap of thunder rattles Fedyor’s fangs in his head, he slams down on his back hard enough to break his bones if he was human, and then, in the flash of the succeeding lightning bolt, his eyes confirm what his nose has already told him. Of all the stupid, stupid things, he appears to have unwittingly trespassed onto Black Hand territory and tried to hunt their game, and the angry supernatural soldier determined to beat the unholy tarnation out of him is therefore none other than the one and only –

“Stop!” Fedyor wheezes, although he has no idea why he expects it to make any difference. “It’s me! Fedyor Kaminsky! From Terazije!”

The rain stings his eyes hard enough to make him grimace, just as a third incandescent bolt of lightning rattles across the sky. From what Fedyor can see, which is not very much, Ivan looks almost as startled as he feels. They remain staring at each other, their faces barely an inch apart, Ivan’s fangs bared in a way that it is really not the time to find disturbingly attractive. Then Ivan springs off and barks, “What the fuck are you doing out here, Conclave whore?”

“Sorry.” Fedyor sits up. His dark hair is plastered to his head and getting in his eyes, there is mud all over his clothes, and even for an immortal who technically does not need to breathe, he is winded. Ivan, to nobody’s surprise, really packs a punch. “I was just… hungry.”

“You have your own arrangements.” Ivan eyes him suspiciously, arms folded, rainwater running down that magnificently disdainful Slavic nose as if from a statue in the public square. “If anyone besides me had caught you out here, you would be dead.”

Well, that is (not) encouraging. It does, however, point out the fact that Ivan has already had the chance to murder him and held back, and Fedyor is not about to speculate on why exactly that might be. It’s not a good idea, but he’s wet, hungry, has just had to unexpectedly fight like the dickens, and irritated at Ivan for being the one who got him into this mess in the first place. “The Conclave demanded that I return their visiting card,” he says shortly. “I’m not allowed to feed on their drones for some unspecified length of time – which is, I might add, entirely thanks to you.”

“What? Why is that my fault?”

“In case you’ve forgotten our last meeting,” Fedyor snaps, “it was at the Golden Cross, on the Lumière brothers’ film night. I relayed the Conclave’s warning to stop your illegal behavior and associations, and you completely ignored it. As a result – ”

“What, they cut off your feeding access?” Ivan interrupts. He looks utterly incredulous. “That’s charitable of them. A good way to build loyalty among your people. Besides, what the fuck did they expect? That you would walk up and ask me nicely, and that would solve it?”

He does, Fedyor has to loathingly admit, have a point. The best he can muster is, “The Conclave is accustomed to being obeyed.”

Ivan eyes him up, with an expression on his face as if that riposte is so pathetic, he isn’t going to dignify it with the effort of a reply. He is poised on edge, as if he doesn’t consider this matter to be entirely settled by the previous bout of violence, and Fedyor is equally tense. He very much does not want to scuffle with a Black Hand hardman who looks like that and fights like that, especially in the throes of encroaching frenzy, and the attendant loss of control. His fangs dig into his lower lip, seeking out the nearest blood – his own – and Fedyor clenches his fists. “Do you have an animal I can borrow?” he asks, as politely as he can. “I’ll – pay for it.”

Ivan surveys him up and down, dripping like an undead drowned rat and otherwise looking as miserable as Fedyor generally tries not to look (after all, presentation is everything). Then he jerks up an impatient fist. “Follow me.”

Fedyor is unsure what this might entail, but shamefully – whether it is due to his increasingly desperate hunger, or something else – he is not altogether opposed to it. He trails after Ivan, trying not to slip in the wet grass or fixate on Ivan’s scent; he will just get another smackdown for his trouble, like a horse flicking aside a fly, and he is not in the mood for it. After a climb of a few minutes, they reach the top of the hill and cross a deserted lawn to a manor house, scattered lights flickering in steep gables and pointed turrets. It is otherwise entirely dark, even to Fedyor’s vampire senses, as Ivan unlatches the heavy front door and drags it open with a screech. “In.”

Well aware that this is an even stupider idea than the polite request to knock it off – he is putting himself voluntarily in the power of a Black Hand operative, on enemy territory, where nobody knows where he is or what Ivan intends to do with him. If Fedyor’s drained corpse turns up floating in the Danube tomorrow, a warning to the Conclave never to interfere in their business again, he can’t say that he didn’t expect it. He hesitates at the threshold a moment longer, and then, given permission – it’s not essential, but it does help – steps inside.

The hall looks almost exactly as you would expect a secret vampire mansion to look: dusty suits of armor, glowering paintings, a sweeping grand staircase with a gothic balcony, and a chandelier which struggles to illuminate the cracked black-and-white chessboard flagstones. Still dripping, the thunder dulling to a muted rumble, Fedyor looks warily from side to side. There doesn’t seem to be anyone here except the two of them – or at least, he certainly hopes that there are no unwitting humans asleep upstairs. In the state that he’s in right now, he isn’t sure that he could control himself. Unless Ivan is trying to make some tiresome point about the inherent monstrosity of vampires, the sort that certain factions like to use in order to argue against the Conclave’s attempts to civilize them and make them follow human-like rules and laws. Fedyor hopes not, because that would be deeply irritating, but he’s so hungry that he’s about to bite his own wrist, and it would not be his finest hour.

However, Ivan does not lead them upstairs, but through a dim warren of corridors to a small, curtained study in the back of the house. Sullen embers glimmer in the hearth; vampires don’t need fires for heat, or to see by, but the human habit is hard to break, even if it’s one of the few things that can hurt them. Then Ivan shuts the door behind them and says crisply, “I’ll make you a deal. Give me useful information on the Conclave, and I will let you feed.”

“What?” Fedyor gapes at him. That was clearly a starvation-induced hallucination. “On – on you?”

“No,” Ivan snaps. “On the davenport, you idiot. Yes, obviously on me. Or I can throw you out and send you to try your luck in the nearest village. Yes or no?”

Fedyor continues to gape at him. Obviously he does not want to go and rip some screaming innocent villager out of their bed, like the very worst of the strigoi horror stories, but he is not in a hurry to jeopardize his ticket back to the Conclave’s good graces by informing on them to Ivan bloody Sakharov. (Indeed, literally.) Did Ivan make that offer because he knows that Fedyor wants it, and remembers how much of a reaction Fedyor had to Ivan feeding on him back at the Golden Cross? It was impossible to hide it entirely, blast him, and Ivan is too canny not to take advantage of an adversary’s weakness. He’s caught Fedyor dead to rights, trespassing on Black Hand territory, and as he himself said, Fedyor is lucky to escape with his skin. It’s Ivan’s right to exploit that fact, nothing more. If Fedyor refuses, what in the hell is he going to do?

“I don’t know,” he stalls. “I’m not sure that I can – ”

Ivan shrugs, then lifts his own wrist to his mouth and bites the back of it. Slow, rich, dark blood beads up, and he wafts it temptingly in Fedyor’s direction. “So, you don’t want this, then?”

Yes, Fedyor wants it. Fedyor, in fact, wants a few other things while he’s at it, and there is no way that Ivan, with hearing and senses and smell as acute as his own, doesn’t know it. He takes a step forward, but Ivan dances aside. “Information first,” he orders. “Then you may have your reward. Come now, Conclave whore. Why is it any different from last time?”

“Don’t call me that.” Fedyor is seeing red – which, at this point, could be due to just about anything. “I have a name, remember? Fedyor – Mikhailovich – Kaminsky.”

He stumbles a little over the patronymic, as it is an ongoing debate whether proper etiquette for Slavic vampires entails the use of the birth father’s name, or that of the vampire sire. Opinion generally comes down on the side of the latter, since it represents proper respect for one’s new immortal status and supernatural bloodline; you’re supposed to let go of your human family, since pining to go back complicates the already-difficult adjustment period and is impossible anyway. But since Fedyor isn’t entirely reconciled to it, and tries to hold onto his humanity, he tends to introduce himself as Fedyor Mikhailovich, not Fedyor Dmitrievich, and the flicker in Ivan’s eyes means that he has taken note of that struggle. Then he shrugs, crooking a taunting finger at him. “Fine then, Fedyor Mikhailovich. It is your choice.”

“What do you – ” Fedyor is having trouble seeing straight. “Want to know?”

“Anything that might be useful.” If he is worried about being shut in a small room with another vampire on the verge of total frenzy, Ivan doesn’t show it. Indeed, in this paramount confidence and command, Fedyor realizes that Ivan is much older than he initially thought. He took him for one of Catherine the Great’s courtiers, from the late eighteenth century or so, but the well-worn shadow of violence that sits on Ivan’s shoulders is of considerably longer use than that. It’s something else to puzzle out when Fedyor regains the use of his higher critical faculties, which is definitely not the case at the moment. “That is, if you can bring yourself to actually – ”

At that moment, he is cut off as Fedyor, deciding that two can play this game and he is tired of being jerked around by this arrogant bastard, lunges at him. Ivan jumps six feet straight up, hissing, and they end up somewhere in the vicinity of the ceiling, only to crash back down to the floor. Even vampires are not immune to the laws of gravity, and they roll around in a second deeply undignified flurry of kicking and biting, as Fedyor finally gets hold of Ivan’s wrists and tries to get his mouth as close as possible to that maddeningly enticing trickle. Then, for a crucial instant, he hesitates. He is very far gone, but there’s enough of his brain left to remember that feeding without permission is regarded quite dimly, and he is trying to prove that he is not a total savage. He gulps and gasps, fangs cutting into his lip, struggling and thrashing, not even able to properly articulate his request, as Ivan still looks – bafflingly – as if he is rather enjoying this. Then he smirks and says, “Very well, Fedyor Mikhailovich. Take it if you can.”

Now that is a challenge, and while it would be very enjoyable to throw it back in Ivan’s face in another fashion, Fedyor has only one concern at the moment. He presses his mouth to Ivan’s wrist, sinks his fangs, and sucks and licks like a man dying of thirst in the desert. Ivan utters a contented purring sound, his head falling back on the carpet, and certainly does not bother to keep struggling while Fedyor is otherwise occupied. Silence falls across the drawing room, except for the soft sounds of Fedyor feeding. He is half on top of Ivan, between his legs, and Ivan does not appear to be objecting in the least. Well. That was… unexpected.

When Fedyor has drunk enough to feel sane again, he pulls back with a jerk, remembers where he is, and fights the wash of embarrassment that floods through him. He wipes his mouth with the cuff of his shirt, then bends down and licks the bite wound closed, which is common vampire practice even if Ivan failed to do it with him. (After all, some supernaturals have manners.) Then they look at each other, and Fedyor doesn’t think it’s his imagination that Ivan’s breath is coming short, a flush visible in his pale cheeks, an enjoyment bearing a remarkable resemblance to Fedyor’s own. The silence persists a moment longer. Then Ivan groans, his legs sprawl further apart, and he orders, doing his utmost to sound gruff and commanding, “You will give me information on the Conclave now, yes?”

It is extremely tempting to tell him to take a long walk off a short pier, to pay him back for that underhanded trick at the Golden Cross, but that requires more command of his verbal processes than Fedyor currently possesses – or indeed, expects to possess in the near-to-medium future. He leans down instead, his nose brushing the hollow of Ivan’s cheek and his mouth ghosting against Ivan’s neck, his fangs tracing the line of the vein as if he might bite there too. Ivan’s hips buck, and his big hands settle heavily on the small of Fedyor’s back. “You know,” he murmurs, his voice a low, rough rasp in his throat. “You are wasted on those idiots.”

“Mmm.” Fedyor nips Ivan’s lower lip, with just a hint of fang. Then – although it’s the most difficult thing he has had to do in his life or his afterlife – he rolls off and gets to his feet, leaving the fearsome Black Hand anarchist vampire flat on his back on the drawing room floor. “It has,” he says, “been a lovely evening. But I will be taking my leave now. Good night.”

And with that, in the somewhat shameful epitome of quitting while he is ahead, but wanting to make absolutely sure that the point has been felt, Fedyor turns around and books it. He doesn’t dare to look back as he bursts out of the dark house, pelts across the lawn, and skids down the hill, in the thick and slippery knots of mud and moss. He doesn’t slow down until he spies the lights of Belgrade, and in a few minutes more, he’s thundering into his flat, clothes disheveled and hair a mess and mouth and head and heart still full of the taste and smell and feel of Ivan Sakharov. It’s intoxicating. It’s unbearable. But it can only be once. It will be only once.

The Conclave, Fedyor reminds himself. You’re doing this to get back to them, and you managed to get out of there without saying anything. They’ll appreciate it. They will. And it’s what you want. Keep your head down and don’t do anything else stupid, and it will work.

It’s what he wants.

It’s what he wants.

It’s what he –

Ah, fuck.

[impossiblelibrary]

Today's rant brought to you by: Queer Eye Japan, can we all just try to be as kind as they try to be?

After watching the Queer Eye Japan super short season, I wanted to google to see the overall reaction to the show, make sure that my western eyes were correct in seeing the care that was given to the culture. Were cultural taboos, other than being outwardly gay, crossed? So I find this article in the top results and other than the perspective, why tho? Tokyoesque.com had an article with a higher reading level, with surface level appreciation but at least better written.

I can't get over this hate article though. Unfounded, dumb, wrong and incorrect. Do not go forward unless you like that blistering kind of anger from me.

But the reasons just get weaker as the article extends: "Hurts the country it set out to save?" Looking for white savior much? They did not go to save Japan, they gave some free shit to like 4-5 people, think smaller.

Their culture guide wasn't gay enough.

You want to suggest any lgbt insta models or celebrities, use your platform to raises some up?

"There is a growing sexless culture in Japan for married and unmarried people, and it is perilous watching Queer Eye present this without any context behind what is driving this behavior."

Sexiness is what the fab 5 embrace, unfortunately and it was probably discussed behind the scenes of how much talking about sex was allowed or polite and the conversation of not having sex is closer to the tip of the tongue rather than the feeling of sexiness. The West is not the ones blasting that information. It is across multiple Japanese printed newspapers and online stories by now and the "context" is still being discussed and debated amongst Japanese. So I don't think any outsiders should be weighing in or "explaining" this phenomenon. We can repeat what we have been told but guessing at the reasons is not our place. The reasons illustrated by the author of the article seem lacking, a take but not the only one, but who am I to speak on that being in a sexual relationship with someone who pulls from that culture?

Kiko begins to lecture Yoko-san on how she “threw away her womanhood” (referring to a Japanese idiom, onna wo suteru) by going makeup-free and wearing drab, shapeless clothes.

The mistranslation by the subtitles fixed by this author was necessary information. But Kiko didn't lecture her on it, it was brought up by Yoko before any of them arrived, that was her theme, that was what she had decided to focus on. Meanwhile, if you watched Jonathan, he understood there was no time to spend on makeup and skincare so provided her a one instrument, 3 points of color on the skin to feel prettier. That and the entire episode being the 5 treating her like a woman on a date, not trying to hook her up, which is what they did in American eps.

"In teaching a Japanese woman, who already struggles to find time for herself, how to make an English recipe, Antoni is making great TV and nothing more."

So Antoni shouldn't have taught her apple pie because it's too exotic for a Japanese woman. (Can you smell the sexism?)

He didn't make an apple pie, altho Yoko did mention her mother made that for her when she was a kid. He made an apple tartine after going to a Japanese bakery who makes that all the time. Then highlighted the apples came from Fuji in true Japanese media fashion. Honey, American television doesn't usually highlight where the ingredients come from. A Japanese producer told him to do that. So all worries handled within the same ep. She got Japanese ingredients, had the recipe shown to her and then made it for her friends in her own house. Did the author actually watch this show or nah?

"beaten over the head with his western self-help logic. “You have to live for yourself,” he says."

The style of build up the 5 went for was confrontational but in a "I'm fighting for you" way. It's hard to describe, but the best I can say is, a person has multiple voices in their head, from parents, siblings, society, and maybe themselves. By being loud and obnoxious, American staples right there, they are adding one more voice. You deserve this, you are amazing, you are worth it. I know this is against most Japanese cultural modesty, but maybe it shouldn't be.

Sarcasm lies ahead:

Apparently: mispronunciation is microaggressions, not just someone who had a sucky school system. Yea okay, They're laughing at the language not at how stumbling these monolinguals are with visiting another country. Mmhm. Japanese don't say I love you and don't touch and that should stay that way instead of maybe, once in awhile, feeling like they can hug. Yeah, let's just ignore Yoko's break down that she had never hugged her lifelong friend after hugging strangers multiple times. Maid cafes are never sexualized in Japan ever, just don't go down that one street in Akihabara where the men are led off by the hand sheepishly blushing. Gag me. And Japanese men love to cry in front of their wives and would never break down once the wife leaves. I have never seen a Japanese movie showcase that move. Grr.

"I identify as many cultures."

So you're a Japanese man when it's convenient for you to get an article published? Are you nationally Japanese or just ethnically or culturally?

Homeland is an inherently racist word?

"After the Bush administration created the Department of Homeland Security after the 9/11 terrorist attacks, a Republican consultant and speechwriter Peggy Noonan urged, “the name Homeland Security grates on a lot of people, understandably. Homeland isn’t really an American word, it’s not something we used to say or say now.”

Yes, let's use a Washington Post article rather than a etymology professor. Yes, the google search results increased after 2001 Homeland Security was used but the word has been around since the 1660s and I've read multiple turn of the century lit on white people returning to their homeland, i.e. the town off the coast they were born in.

"But" is not disagreeing. I think the repeated offender for the author is the not acknowledging the makeover-ees feelings. But, that is how LGBT have decided to deal with the inner voices that invade from society. They are just that, not our own, they are the influence of society, and we can choose, we have to choose, to be influenced by someone, anyone else.

Karamo can't speak about being black when an Asian is speaking about being Asian, even though the Asian gay man was feeling alone. It's called relating bitches, and I'm done with people saying that is redirecting the conversation, it's extending the conversation. That's how we talk, the spotlight is shared, especially when someone's about to cry and doesn't want to be seen as crying, time to turn the spotlight.

The gay monk wasn't good enough, you should have invited the gay politician.

Yeah, causes I'm sure a politician has all the time in the world for a quick stint and cry. They picked a Japanese monk who travels to NY because they had a guest who travels to the West too. Did you want him to stop traveling back and forth? Did you want a pure, ethnic and cultural Japanese gay man who has no ties to the west to talk to this Western educated young man? Seriously?

This is just not how it works in Japan.

Being in a multi-cultural marriage between two rebels, discussions on facets of culture are plenty in my household. Culture should be respected enough to be considered but not held on a pedestal like we should never adjust or throw some things out. LGBT being quiet and private for instance. "Being seen" was Jonathan's advice, and a good one especially for a Japanese gay man that was called feminine since he was a kid. Some gay men can hide, but as Jonathan said, he couldn't hide what he was, he couldn't hide this. So fuck it. Don't hide. It's actually more dangerous for a feminine man to come off as anxious rather than gay and proud. It makes you more of a target if they think you won't fight back. Proud means, Imma throw hands too, bitch.

This is also from the civil rights playbook going back to Black America: never hold a protest or a fight without the cameras, without being seen. LGBT have found the more seen they are, in media, in the streets, the better off we are. When LGBT Americans were being "private" about our lifestyles, we died, a la 1980s. They won't care if you start dying off if they never saw you to begin with.

And hence why I think the author's real anger is from these 5 being seen dancing flamboyantly in Shibuya, in Harajuku, afforded the privilege of doing this safely because of their tourist status, cameras and very low violence rate in Tokyo, loud and obnoxiously. Honestly, they wouldn't have been invited or nominated if they didn't want that brash American-ness coming into their home, just for a taste, at least.

Here's my real anger, my own jealousy: Japan's queer community currently does not have marriage or adoption rights. US does, so we have progressed further. But we are also not that many years from being tied to cow fences with barbed wire, beaten with baseball bats and left for dead overnight. If things are so bad over there, maybe take a few pages from the civil right playbook we took so much time to perfect and produced by the Black Americans who fought first. But so far, I only hear loss of jobs and marriages, which we still have here too. Stop trying to divide us, we are one community, LGBT around the world and we are here to try to help. Take it or leave it, it's not like we're going to go organize your own Pride parade for you.

Rant over? I guess. Is this important enough to be put in the google results along with his. Hell no, anyone with half a mind can see he's reaching more than half the time. And any argument about: this wasn't covered! There are a shit ton of conversations that are not covered in the 45 min they have. They are not a civil rights show, it's a makeover show, doing their best in that direction anyway. Know what it is.

Next blog post, what research I would guess was happening behind the scenes for each of the 5? I'm pretty sure I saw Jonathan doing Japanese style makeup there...

[shokano19]

Dr stone characters as types of TikTokers

Warning: Contains manga spoilers for new characters! You can skip those you don’t know! 

Not sure where this idea came from exactly but I got super into it and it was really fun. Consider these to be my headcanons for a dcst AU where they don’t get petrified and instead everyone is TikTok famous. 

Senku

- science 101 - makes educational videos aimed generally at students struggling at school with subjects like biology, physics, chemistry, robotics, engineering, and astronomy, explaining them thoroughly and in a simpler form - random astronomical facts #n - goes live when he’s about to do a reaction experiment - wants to show his viewers how exhilarating science can be - rarely shows his face - tries to incorporate humour into his talks - it becomes evident he’s passionate or excited about the subject by his little chuckles - “visiting my father at NASA before rocket launch” - Taiju sometimes takes over his account as a lil prank - on everyone’s for you page with minimal effort - 14M followers

Gen

- magic tricks - social science veteran - shares psychology hacks he learned throughout his career - props his phone on his cola bottles to film himself - CEO of accidentally dropping his phone on the floor - Senku’s fanboy. Reacts to Senku’s videos on occasion by acting extra and makes a huge deal out of rare pictures of Senku - posts cut scenes from his magic show then makes separate videos revealing how he performed a certain trick - cynical, dark humour - makes his viewers question their moral compass - gets a lot of compliments for his hair - 10.5M followers

Chrome

- step by step 3 minute crafts - Senku’s fanboy #2. Video duets with Senku by building the same things as him, praises Senku a lot  - geology student studying mineralogy - storytime! - regular shout-outs from Senku - always has his precious rock/crystal collection displayed behind him as he films a video and makes sure to show them off every once in a while - 2M followers

Kohaku

- trash talks men without stuttering - films herself in front of a mirror most of the time - zooms a lot into her face and stares into the camera while speaking, looking dead inside - dimmed disco lights - ironic and sassy - usually spits facts about anything she talks about - confident vibes - ayo famous relative check (Lillian Weinberg’s niece) - her duets are cruel - 1.9M followers

Ginro

- the POV - makes relatable yet obscure videos - some questionable scenarios no one can explain - yes he wears a big towel on his head when impersonating girls   - includes Kinro in his videos a lot - anime weeb - always posts at unholy hours - refined sense of humour - majority of videos are taken in his bedroom - lowkey annoying - video replies to hate comments by either faking acting hurt and crying or sarcastically going along with them as a massive fuck you - 69k followers and he would like it if it stayed that way

Kinro

- beautiful scenery shots - only has a few videos, mostly nature and places he went to with his family and friends - “top 5 places you must visit this summer” - secretive about his account, no one except Ginro knows about it - 7.9k followers - after a while he switched to making ASMR?? which gained him fame overnight and now has …. - 45k followers (Ginro’s current worst fear being Kinro surpassing his own follower count)

Magma

- unpopular opinion guy - reacts to popular tiktoks and attempts to review them (for fun, he’s a jerk for clout) - loud af, angry & narrow minded - makes valid points sometimes - dislikes kohaku’s content (probably because he feels called out) - tried to cancel Senku and failed miserably - a lot of people disagree with his hot takes - ignored the haters but got some serious threats :( - considered quitting making tiktoks so he took break - apologized to those he insulted after some reflection time - now half of his account are just apology videos - people follow him for the tea  - 500k followers

Suika (aged up)

- the animal lover - mainly videos of Chalk being adorable, Suika teaching him tricks…and him wrecking the house - “animal crossing new horizons island tour” - “my top 10 favourite cartoons” - 11k followers

Tsuakasa

- long political talks - disputable ideals - renowned martial artist  - became famous after appearing on a broadcast program with Gen and won against him in mental battle - informs on what’s currently happening in the world - has a lot of supporters as well as haters - “today’s society is flawed because - ” - encourages viewers to write their opinion in the comments - reads every single comment as well as replies to them - occasionally talks about his childhood, the good and the bad - 7.6M followers

Ryusui

- chaotic - reviews popular console/pc games of any genre - youtube channel linked in his bio - the type to walk into his bathroom and say funny shit - bombards Tsukasa’s comments section with stuff like “drop yo workout routine plz” or “your hair looks so soft I bet it smells like roses” to which Tsukasa can only reply with “please leave me alone” - generally in everyone’s comment section. He’s everywhere - bi king - super friendly and approachable - ayo rich house checkkkk XD - flexes on his personal mini yacht  - 5M followers

Francois

- quick, stylish and helpful cooking tutorials - shares rare recipes - pro decorator  - worked at 4/5 star bars, restaurants and clubs - non-binary icon - sometimes in the background of Ryusui’s videos until a lot of people asked about their relationship and revealed that they also works as Ryusui’s personal chef - 3.2M followers

Ukyo

- variety content creator - gives walkthrough’s of his job as a sonar technician - sneakily exposes his workplace’s secrets while he’s at it too - likes to gather the kingdom of science and make dumb silly videos together - archery tips for beginners - starting a new language tips - video reacts to tiktoks he finds interesting - became popular after appearing in one of Gen’s q&a videos - after that he collaborated with many others such as Senku, Chrome, Ryusui - close to everyone - appreciated for his talents - 980K followers

Yuzuriha

- fashion icon in the making - shares her everyday outfits - talks about her favourite clothing and where she bought them from - DIY accessories - cute couple videos with Taiju - fun sewing lessons! - promotes her online shop - 330k followers

Hyouga

- the type to stand in front of the camera and cover the screen with writing instead of speaking - known for his lip care routines (owns a lot of lip glosses and lip cosmetics) - occasionally takes off his mask for lip care videos - Homura is always behind the camera helping him film - kudayari spear practices - Helps Homura promote her Instagram account - tries to keep an aesthetic - trips abroad vlogs - 770k followers

Mozu

- cringey e-boy - lip-syncs  - dances  - it’s so obvious he’s fishing for attention - secretly films Kirisame for a laugh, ends up with him running for his life as soon as she finds out - expect to get second-hand embarrassment - exaggerates a lot - needs to be stopped - does tiktok challenges with Kirisame (has to beg for her to agree) - Kohaku, Luna, Gen and Nikki have him blocked - Hyouga and Kirisame are literally the only ilr friends he has :,( - 420k followers

Luna

- popular girl wannabe - desperate to get on the for you page - everyone loves her though <3 - poses in front of the camera wearing her best clothes while cute music plays in the background - complains about how she’s STILL single - pros and cons of going to med school - reads a bunch of funny tweets and almost dies laughing - recently started following Senku and can’t shut up about his content - 200k followers

Bonus: all of them tried at least once, if not more, to recreate complicated dances that went viral on tiktok. Yes, even Senku.

Coming up with usernames for them is beyond me right now so feel free to add to these however you like!  ( ✧≖ ͜ʖ≖)

[padawanlost]

Can I confess something? I know that positivity is “better” than negativity, and people are allowed to have their opinions, but there is something about Pro-Jedi “they did nothing wrong, absolutely no flaws, but were ONLY destroyed by Palpatine” arguments that makes me kind of uncomfortable. Nevermind that half of it is sourced by Disney revisionist canon, it’s just… there is something in the “the intent was good, but this is harmful” “NO ITS 100% GOOD ACTUALLY” that makes my skin crawl. Sorry

I feel you, anon. I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately. It worries me how defensive some people are getting. I mean, I love my favorite fictional characters too. I think that’s absolutely normal, and loving a fictional character whether they are the heroes or the villains doesn’t say anything about who we are as people. Admitting we love Anakin or Darth Vader doesn’t immediately make us favorable to torture, war, fascism, murder and corruption. 

However, the arguments we use to explain a characters behavior do say something about who we are. And some arguments being used by the star wars fandom are downright scary. You know, there’s a difference between saying ‘I don’t like Padmé because she’s not the type of character I’m usually interested in’ and saying ‘Padmé is useless weak bitch because she died’. One is about you expressing your taste and the other is you showing the world your sexism.

It’s the same with Anakin, Vader and every one fictional character in existence, regardless of fandom. there’s nothing wrong with loving Anakin, but when you start advocating that genocide is a valid option, if you think women belong to men, that torture works and authoritarianism makes the world better, I’m not gonna lie, warning bells do go off in my head.

It’s the same with the Jedi. there’s nothing wrong with loving and supporting them because they were designed to liked by the audience. but once you start advocating that child slavery is not that bad, that war crimes are justified, that indoctrinating children is healthy, that mind controlling people against their will is a kindness, dismemberment is compassion, that child soldiers are a valid option and that the enslavement of poc characters is a necessity…MAYBE the issue here is no longer about fictional characters.

It’s ironic because if an Anakin fan says Anakin was right in slaughtering the tusken raiders, most people – anakin fans included – will be outraged by notion that genocide and mass murder should ever be considered the right solution to any problem. we love Anakin but we also know he made mistakes and what those mistakes were. it’s not about defending him, it’s about acknowledging certain things are simply wrong even if they are done by fictional characters we love.

Weirdly enough, when it comes to the Jedi nothing seems to be wrong enough to some people. everything is justifiable: war crimes, child endangerment, slavery, etc. Nothing seems to be bad enough that they can’t find a way to justify it. And that scares me. because it has become so obvious these issues only matter when the jedi are harmed by them.

The most current example of this is the The Clone Wars series finale. The episode was heavily focused on the massive loss of clones lives that happened during Order 66 and yet some fans were outraged that their white favorites weren’t the main focus of the episode because THEY SUFFERED SO MUCH MORE. It’s the same with fans rapidly turning on Ahsoka, the Martez sisters and even Filoni for so much as hinting they didn’t agree with the Order’s decisions.

You know, it’s not about them defending the Jedi is about how and why they defend them. Saying I don’t care what the jedi did because I love them is fine. Saying I love the Jedi because they never did anything wrong and then writing a long ass essay on why the lives of POC characters don’t matter is not. It sickens me to see people spend a lot of time writing fucking books desperately trying to justify why not helping Kitster, Ahsoka, Barriss or the younglings hunted for sport was the right call at the same they romanticize Obi-wan’s short enslavement as the one of the most tragic things that has ever happening the entire franchise.

Imo, that’s pretty telling. I don’t know if they are racist or just really, really insecure about their own taste but it does makes me wonder about who they are as people. it sounds harsh even to me to say this but the truth is this does goes beyond fiction. this shit has affected people in real life. I mean, every once in a while I see a jedi ‘stan’ telling someone Karen Traviss hated the Jedi and that she was the personification of everything that’s evil about people who criticize the Jedi Order. Look, I don’t know anything about who she is a person but I do know the same Jedi stans spent years sending her death and RAPE threats for being critical of the FICTIONAL CHARACTERS even after she wrote a long letter explaining she didn’t actually hate the Jedi. I don’t know where everyone moral compass is pointing at but *I* was raised to believe that wishing a woman dead and/or raped is NEVER the best answer.

But somehow people who say ‘I love the jedi even if they weren’t perfect’ are being portrayed as the villainous, irrational fans who are ruining everything and attacking everyone. I sleep well at night knowing i never tried to pass actual crimes that harm actual people as good, righteous things just to make fictional characters look better.

It’s not about hating the Jedi the same way that acknowledging Anakin’s crimes is not about hating on Anakin. It’s about recognizing that something that is legally and morally wrong in real life is also wrong in fiction, specially when the fiction world was build as a political parallel of our own. We are not saying war crimes and slavery is wrong because we hate the say, we are saying war crimes and slavery are wrong because THEY ARE WRONG. If our love and support for fictional characters can so easily blind us to real life morality then maybe we should do some soul searching before going to such lengths to justify something considered a heinous crime in both fictional and real world

A few days ago I was trying to get a coworker to start watching Breaking Bad. We were talking about Walter White and why he was such iconic character. he’s clearly not a great guy but that doesn’t mean we don’t love the character. I think that’s the difference some fans have a hard time grasping: the difference between a good character and a good person. I have seen many fans saying WW’s actions were cool, badass, ‘manly’ or whatever but I’ve never seen anyone trying to pass drug trafficking and murder as morally superior choices.

That’s what I’m trying to say. We can love (or hate) fictional characters for whatever reason we want. but how we go about justifying their actions and how we react to those who disagree with our views do say a lot about who we are. I mean, there’s a big difference between saying ‘it was so cool to watch Darth Vader is laughter all those red shirts in Rogue One’ and saying ‘and war crimes are a necessary part of life, Darth Vader was morally justified in slaughter them all and those who disagree with me are haters’.

Taste doesn’t really said anything about who we are but behavior does. Loving or hating a fictional characters doesn’t make us better or worse than anyone. But what we have to say about fictional and how we behave around other fans do say a lot about who we are.

Fandom is a community and like any community nothing and no one is perfect. Pretending ‘everything is awesome’ is choice, of couse, but one i’m not very fond of.

[queenofdenest]

Prompt: 7. isolation Series: unofficial (and very outdated) whumptober 2k19 Fandom: Hetalia. Warnings/Tags: purple prose. dead dove do not eat: torture, mentions of non-consensual sexual interactions, referenced non-consensual drug use, psychiatric abuse, referenced suicide, mentions of physical beatings. historical (esque) hetalia. Characters: APH Est.onia. Pairings: n/a Summary: [sovi.et era] dissidents are not welcomed in the sov.iet u.nion.

A/N:THIS IS ONE OF MY DARKER FICS, I'M BEGGING YOU TO HEED THE WARNINGS!!!

DID YOU READ THEM?

PROMISE?

OKAY GO READ THEM AGAIN!!!

... I'M TRUSTING YOU NOW.

PROCEED.

Additional Author's Notes: Sorry for the very early & mid 2000's intro there, I just wanted to make sure you all knew what was being put in this fic. Further author notes at the bottom as always.

EXPLANATIONS OF THE WARNINGS: Just want to give a quick rundown of the warnings right here should you want it: estonia is being held in a punitive psychiatric hospital during the soviet union era for the crime of dissidence; there is no scene of torture or drug use or rape or suicide or physical beatings, they are all mentioned in his thoughts as he ruminates. suicide is mentioned in the first paragraph, torture and non-con drug use and psychiatric abuse is mentioned throughout, rape is implied in paragraph 12, 13, 22 & 23 (the last two just barely implied), physical beatings is mentioned in 12, 13, 22, 23, & 27. If any of this causes you any discomfort, please click off the fic, go to this video of callme.kevin being the cutest, and take care of yourselves!!! Anyway, onto the fic!!

The air was stale, the barred window didn’t open – the doctors had said they were terrified he’d jump to his death; as if death would be a freedom. Maybe if he were human like the others in the building, but no, he was immortal, left to live a life that wasn’t even really his own.

Eduard stared at the ceiling, trying to recount in his head how to say I hate you, go die, in all the languages he knew. Of course, he had started with his own language, the forbidden words falling silently from chapped lips over and over again until he had moved to Latvian, Lithuanian, Polish, Danish, Finnish, Swedish, German, Livonian – he had even spoken Russian as he did so, though he had spoken them louder, so the doctors would hear him as he shouted.

They loved hearing him speak Russian.

He abhorred speaking it.

He turned his head, facing the wall instead. It was empty. Blank. A brutalistic architecture meant to break down the spirit as the doctors with their drugs broke down the rest.

A door squeaked from somewhere down the hall. Empty footsteps minded their way downwards, stopping every few seconds to check in with the other patients – prisoners, Eduard thought.

(Estonia, he reminded himself, he is the nation of Estonia, the Republic of Estonia, not the Estonian Soviet Socialist Republic, not a piece of the Soviet Union, not a political dissident who needed to be silenced in the eyes of the government)

There were no patients in the building, just unfortunate victims of a society that deemed them dangerous for disagreeing with the general idea of the state of the world; people forced to be pricked by little needles full of dizzying drugs and told they were insane when they were unable to handle it. He could handle it; at least, at the low dosages they started with he could.

Nation physiology was weird; often what would knock out a human wouldn’t work on them, leaving the doctors here to up the dosages to the dangerous amounts of oddly mind-boggling drugs he was already being forcibly injected with. He didn’t like it.

One of the drugs burned*, it felt as if his veins were on fire, coursing through him. He could barely cry with how hot he felt when it happened, barely curl himself into a ball and beg for release.

Eduard – Estonia – listened again for the footsteps.

He liked listening to them. They were better than the screams that echoed down the way, plus they warned him of the solider who’d visit at night. Bile rose in his throat. No, he thought, the man was long gone. He had been told that said solider was going back to whatever hellhole he had dragged his way up from, over a month – a week, a day? He wasn’t exactly sure, time had started to pass weird when they had found the right dosage level to give him – but still the thought of him left a sickening feeling in his gut.

He had bruises from where that man had beat him, had held him down by his throat.

All this because he had been caught with a pamphlet*.

Sure it was an illegal pamphlet; one that spoke of dissidence and social reforms, of the notion of freedom and what followed. And yes, it wasn’t the first time he had been caught with such writings; sometimes they were in Russian, sometimes they were in his own forbidden language, and sometimes whoever language he could get his hands on.

But none of that mattered. All that mattered – in the eyes of the Soviet Government – was that he had shown that he wasn’t going to be quiet in his capture, complacent in his own occupation, and as such, he had to be punished*.

He clenched his eyes shut at that thought. Of how he had been dragged from the manor that Russia and the other nations lived at, all to the sounds of the others absolute silence – this was never supposed to happen, governments had no right to punish a nation, it was an written rule* – and brought before whatever politician had decided his fate.

“Where did you get the pamphlet?” The politician had asked, “Give up the names and everything will be alright, yes?”

Behind him had stood the solider who had followed him to the first two psychiatric hospitals.

Estonia had kept his mouth shut.

The footsteps stopped in front of his door, pulling him from his thoughts. Not from any of the fear. In fact, his mind flashed back to the first psychiatric unit he was sent to and he failed at attempting to swallowed a bit of the fear that tried to force itself from his chest.

At first terrified of being sent to a Gulag, he had instead been blindfolded, driven around for what had felt like more than an hour, before being dragged through a building and deposited in an empty shower room. When they had ripped off his blindfold he could see that the tile had been a dirty off white, the silver of the open faucets covered in grime, and the sickening feeling in his gut had grown tenfold. They had shouted at him to undress – he was sure he had been sent to prison – before the guards had unclothed him, ripping fabric from him as they forced him under cold water.

They had taken their time to make every single part of it was as painful as possible, making sure that by time he had been deemed clean enough, he had bruises forming on his body, some of them barely covered by the outfit he was forced in.

Of course what had come afterwards was the true pain. Not even given the right of a (most likely false) declaration that he had gone insane, he had been tossed into a facility for those much like himself: dissidents.

There were criminals, ones who had done bad but had decided that being mental was better than a Gulag – they were not wrong –but in the end it really didn’t matter. If one wasn’t insane when they entered, they became so before they left.

More footsteps echoed down the hall. The bit of fear turned into a pit and Estonia waited with baited breath. Please just leave, he thought. He couldn’t stand the idea of more questions. He hated the drugs, he hated the people.

Estonia turned his head. He could, in his ears, feel the sound of his heart pounding. He knew what was coming. It was a vicious cycle. Half the time they left him locked in a room, the only interaction with the nurses who brought food and the doctors who questioned him and the guards that beat him – the other half, he was truly left alone, for days no one would show up and he’d feel sluggish by time they had decided to let him see another person.

He had been left by himself for a few days, left to stew and ride out the drugs forced down his throat the last questioning.

It was time for people now.

Bottom Author's Notes: You ever trigger yourself writing??? I did that when I wrote this. 😐 Welcome to my first ever dark fic in this fandom that I've shared! I hate it! No not really, I'm actually really proud of it. I just - sigh -

Psychiatric abuse was, imho, one of the worst parts of the Soviet Union (though it is still an ongoing issue in Russia). They "created" their own form of schizophrenia as a way to silence those who disagreed with them; they also all but tortured those who were placed in mental facilities, stripped them of all of their rights even after being released from said facilities (y'know, if the torture didn't kill them!) and all but treated them as subhuman. Some patients were mentally ill, some were criminals who figured it'd be better than the gulags, and a lot were those who disagreed with the soviet union because "only a crazy person who disagree with socialism". As someone with mental illness, including being a person who deals with schizophrenia, the idea of abusing your privilege as a doctor to forcibly detain and torture someone who disagrees with your political party is a terrifying and physically upsetting idea. I had originally tried a different way with this prompt, going for a little bit more soft torture and everything but I kept getting stuck with that and while doing personal research for a different fandom, I found all this information and I decided to use the definition of isolation that means less "solitary confinement" and more separated from society instead. This fic then got away with me, because the more I researched what mental facilities were like in Soviet Russia, the more I felt sick and the more I felt tears, and the more I wrote a very disjointed piece of fiction. Hopefully you all enjoyed.

Anywhoooooooo, sorry for coming back to the fandom only to drop a hot steaming pile of angst at everyone's door, I'll try to have something fluffy up in a couple days - honestly, I just need a palate cleanser after this. here's some prompt lists that i'm currently working on should anyone want to hit me up with a prompt from any of them: whumptober 2k19 | fictober 2k19 | fictober 2020 | whumptober 2020

some quick info:

One of the drugs burned*: Sulfozinum, caused a rise in body temperature and severe pain. Used in the Soviet Union for "treatment" of various things, it's been more than suggested that it was mostly used as punitive applications for those in the psychiatric prisons - I mean, hospitals, then any psychological benefit. Patients would also have muscle necrosis, immobility and fever.

All this because he had been caught with a pamphlet*.: A good amount of people placed in punitive psychiatric hospitals were those who wrote, spoke out, and held beliefs of social reforms or just said things that the sensitive as fuck Soviet government thought was in some way offensive.

he had to be punished*.: The Soviet Union was really insecure if nobody liked it and so was just threw everybody they could find who didn't like them in horrible places with horrible conditions and were just horrible. Again, fuck the soviet union and everyone who thought it was a good idea, it fucking sucked.

governments had no right to punish a nation, it was an written rule*: A personal headcanon of mine. I figure that nations don't particularly like it when their governments try to interfere in what they consider "nation business" and as such have it written somewhere that nations deal with nations no matter what.