#my parents who i did not get along with well at the time. general isolation in 1 room and very little conversation makes jack a weird boy

[givehimthemedicine]

lumax as a premature relationship

first: I don't mean any of this like "the show shouldn't have done it". what I mean is that with lumax, ST is telling the story of a relationship whose flaw (if it can be summarized into just one) is that it happened too soon.

probably out of comparison to milkvan, and the delay of canon byler, lumax gets lauded as the wholesome ship based on true friendship that slowly blossomed into romance. but that's not accurate. Lucas is a good friend to Max, but Max isn't to Lucas, and it certainly wasn't slow.

even platonic lumax should've been a slow simmer but was a speed run

the newly-introduced Max has high walls, which suggests anyone who wants to get close to her will have to take a slow approach. but then before you know it, Lucas is just kinda. in there.

yes, it takes him most of the season to earn Max's trust, which sounds long, but isn't. the first time Lucas and Max ever spoke was Halloween, Wednesday. the arcade I think is Saturday, and the junkyard is the day after that? so she broaches the darkest subject in her life... 4 days after meeting him. with like. zero prompting. "that fog looks cool! btw my parents are divorced and..."

Max's walls are only so high because of how badly she wants to let someone in, so it's understandable that the right person could get in relatively fast. I have no problem with that trope. sucker, in fact. but opening up here was CRAZY for someone with huge trust issues:

you have to be careful who you confide in about abuse because if your confidant mishandles it so that your abuser finds out you told, things could get MUCH worse. she simply doesn't know Lucas well enough to know he won't accidentally put her in more danger (which actually he already did: by following her out of the arcade after she said not to, and again by showing up at her house).

this talk was moments before Max saw a demodog, meaning she's gone along with the supernatural story without any evidence. I'm not criticizing that; she's a kid who likes fantasy, wants friends really bad, and isn't above playing make-believe in order to be included. what bothers me is she confided in Lucas about her abuse BEFORE seeing a shred of proof this entire outing wasn't the elaborate prank she feared it was. in the infinitely more realistic scenario that these boys are just messing with her, and will ditch her after they've had their laugh, this could so easily have led to a much darker situation at home.

the timing of that conversation was so objectively, stupidly unsafe that I'd call it bad writing if it was an isolated incident. but, self-preservation instincts so terrible they can sometimes be better explained as elf-sabotage - that's just classic Max.

romantic lumax seemed kind of forced because as a new kid in town, all Max wanted was friendship

the snow ball is about a month after everything else. Max and Lucas don't seem to be a couple yet. it doesn't even look like they're dates. so to kiss him suddenly felt like another jump way ahead. he sure looked surprised.

I guess a month is a while when you're 13, but the romantic aspect felt rushed to me because the whole season is full of indications that Max only wanted friendship. and that's made super clear by her constant focus on group friendship. her dialogue throughout 2 is consistently group-oriented.

her behavior is too: as of Halloween, Max has Lucas and Dustin in her pocket. if she's crushing on Lucas, or enjoys attention from boys in general, why on earth would she go out on such a limb seeking Mike's acceptance after she already has what she wants?

because that's not what she wants most. she wants to belong to the whole group, like she keeps saying. (I'm going to ramble much more about this theme in another post soon)

Max continues to prioritize friendship / group activities even after lumax becomes a thing

a few examples:

lumax's idea of "romantic time" can include their friends, in contrast to milkvan prioritizing alone time.

Max (and Lucas) drop 1 on 1 time (washing out his eyes is a scene that's an easy kiss opportunity for your standard tv teen couple) in favor of a long trek in the sun to build a radio tower so Dustin can talk to a girl she doesn't believe exists. Max and Lucas do skip off together, but again in contrast to El and Mike who leave early to make out, they only leave because it's time to go home.

^that's the same Max who tagged along and earnestly participated in armoring up a junked schoolbus to fight monsters without any proof.

despite downsizing for trailer living, she kept the Michael Myers mask in memory of the first night she felt like a part of the party.

unlike others who yell for their loved one from the UD, Max calls out for Lucas and Dustin.

her life-saving montage includes many platonic as well as romantic moments.

alright killjoy, if Max only wanted friendship, how's it make sense that SHE initiated all the romantic stuff?

ST is not a universe where grabbing someone's hand in a tense moment is necessarily an indicator of romance. Dustin said he could feel "the electricity" when Lucas and Max held hands on the bus, but then, Dustin also ships stobin.

the kiss, I could actually come closest to calling a writing misstep because.. it wasn't written. it feels forced because it was, as a last-minute unscripted thing - not because the Duffers decided it fit Max's characterization, but purely because they thought it was funny how uncomfortable Sadie was with filming her first kiss. <- this interview is actually so gross.

but, that kiss is canon regardless of how I feel about bts lore, and it fits and it works in the sense that this is the story of a flawed relationship. Max initiated it despite not being ready for it, simply because she thought she was.

Max's childhood fears about bad relationships have made her overeager to prove a good relationship can exist. so the first time a boy is actually kind to her, she's like OH SEE LOVE IS REAL I DONT HAVE TO GROW UP TO BE MY MOM LET'S GOOOO and hurls herself into something she's not mature enough to realize she's too immature to execute well.

if that kiss was so misguided, how's it still Max's happiest memory?

there's no conflict there.

she grew up around terrible relationships and probably feared she was destined for the same, so to find a nice boy like Lucas must have given her such incredible relief and hope. in her young mind, that dance was her happily ever after. you never forget how good a moment like that felt, regardless of how well reality lived up to it.

that said. can I point out that reality hasn't lived up to it?

Max choosing the moment lumax began, as opposed to any moment from the year-and-change of its actual contents... might be less good the more you think about it. like. she doesn't describe this as her favorite memory. she says it's the time she was happiest. in other words, she hasn't been as happy before or since.

that kiss marked lumax's moment of greatest potential, which I think is what made Max so happy. not the relationship she's actually gotten so far.

mmkay and then what do I do about the fact Max STILL wants to date Lucas?

once again, Max is the one who makes things overtly romantic by doodling a picture of them holding hands. but as you may know from my recent lumax diatribe, I don't see how the ship is seaworthy at present.

so the top layer of my interpretation is that Max is still operating under the same ideas that caused her to kiss Lucas in the first place. she's not thinking about how it'll work; she just wants. this is fast-forward Max again. it's a similar moment of hope to the snow ball kiss. romance with Lucas once again looks like her lifeline out of an awful situation.

the layer underneath that is less fluffy:

Max might've accepted this invite in as much an "I might die tonight so it won't hurt to make some lighthearted plans for the future, he did just save my life so why hurt his feelings for no reason" way as anything else. I don't mean her affection is fake. she just might consider the movie date a pipe dream.

consider that her attic monologue happens only a couple minutes after the doodle, and shows that her suicidal ideations are barely behind her. like, the wanting-to-die part is just bait at this point I think, but the deserving-to-die sentiment still feels fresh and sincere.

consider that Max so recently scolded Lucas for assuring her things would work out because that's "never true" in her life... and now here she is drawing a doodle of things working out.

sure, this could be a girl who's thinking "yes!!! ✅ Attending Event! I genuinely expect to be alive, deserving of love, and in the mood for romance this Friday!" but to me, it honestly seems more like a girl thinking "God, I wish."

btw the doodle would've been perfect as the advent of romantic lumax, imo

if lumax had grown slowly out of a healthy mutual friendship, Max really could be ready right here.

imagine: s2, Max earns her place in the party, but to grow especially close friends with Lucas takes a year; the bus talk happens in s3. we can tell their friendship is starting to want to become more. depression interferes in s4. but their bond helps pierce the fog, and they protect each other from Vecna/Jason.

you hit me with the movie doodle after THAT buildup? adorable, precious, showstopping. at that point, that date could've been their happily ever after. <- this is what people think it is already!

lumax is one of many flawed relationships (and that's okay)

another sign that lumax is supposed to be flawed is its place in the larger pattern of flawed relationships: parallels with other characters and ships.

Max and El in particular share a similar stumble into their relationships: both bond with the first boy to treat them with kindness, and throw themselves into a relationship that actually costs them the friendship they should've had with that boy.

and all the party relationships illustrate different friendship/romance progressions:

lumax is the story of a romance that should've been a friendship first/also and isn't going to succeed til it gets this right

byler will be the story of a romance that was a friendship first and will succeed by remaining one also (or so the themes and patterns suggest)

mileven is the story of a romance that should've been a friendship instead.

literally all of ST's relationships, including the endgame romances, have flaws that are intentional and meant to be explored. in fact that's like... most of what the show is. and most fans can readily admit that about all of them, until they get to lumax, which they think is uniquely meant to be perfect and is flawed only in its writing. this view strips lumax from its broader context and ignores many lessons it's there to teach us about ST's overarching themes.

understand: my aim in pointing out lumax's flaws is not to persuade anyone to enjoy it less or stop shipping it!

flaws don't mean you aren't allowed to like a thing. if anything, it makes them way more interesting to discuss, and more compelling to root for/against. we don't have to pretend our characters are perfect in order to enjoy, ship, and learn from them.

more on all this coming soon in another post exploring different types of love in the Max plot!

[foegold]

a consequence of my wife being out of town is im getting a fraction of the usual socializing and now my words are both backed up and also uncontrollable when they flow. sorry to everyone in the world that i've replied to on their post or dm'd out of the blue, it's a manifestation of The Curse

[iamcautiouslyoptimistic]

🦅Russell Adler Headcanons

{Author's Note} Since I'm literally obsessed with this man, I thought I'd post my headcanons for him. All of these are based off of his canon backstory and character with bits of my own speculation thrown in so nothing should be too out of left field here. I may end up posting more of my thoughts on him soon so we shall see. Hope y'all like it and I'd love to hear what you think, as well as any headcanons you guys might have! Tagging @littlemissclandestine for this since she's an Adler fan. Let me know if I did this man justice lol🤭

‼️Content Warning: swearing, suggestive themes‼️

~ ~ ~

-Badass asshole

-Takes awhile for him to soften enough to really love someone

-Flirtatious jerk when he has a crush

-Shows he cares through small actions that can be hard to notice, as well as vague, rather backhanded compliments

-Shamelessly stares from behind those glasses of his

-Thinks it’s really cute when you wear his shades but would never admit it

-Stylish with heavy 70s influence

-Probably modeled for a male fashion magazine at some point LMAO

-Definitely knows how to dance

-Seems like the type to meme a bit on British people (specifically Park lol)

-Very sarcastic, sometimes to the point that you don’t realize he’s actually joking because he's always so monotone

-Secretly loves Belgian waffles (this is a reference to that one Bruce Thomas TikTok lol)

-Has a soft spot for the Beach Boys (I mean, look at that 🎶bushy, bushy blonde hairdo🎶 of his)

-Since so many people have asked and teased him about it (I see y'all in the fandom and I will not accept this slander lol) -> his hair isn’t fake, it’s actually pretty soft, very bouncy, he likes styling it

-Very particular about his appearance as it is one of the few things that he can truly control

-Prefers cats over dogs

-Can get obsessive about certain things and lose himself to them (i.e. his search for Perseus) -> Mason quote: “He spent so long searching for Perseus, he didn’t notice when he lost himself.”

-Still struggles with PTSD from his time in Vietnam, which, alongside his obsession with finding Perseus, is what led to his divorce

-Carries a lot of guilt and regret that he doesn’t like to acknowledge

-Started smoking to cope with the trauma of war, now has a nicotine addiction; when he’s really stressed, he chain smokes like a chimney

-Gets restless if he doesn’t have a cigarette

-Doesn’t sleep well and when he does, he usually wakes up every few hours

-Scars - Shrapnel? Abuse? Torture? Animal attack? No one knows and he’ll never tell

-Kiss or trace those scars and he WILL melt

-Difficult for him to let his guard down

-Has a tendency to isolate himself -> Mason quote: "You were never alone, Adler. Only in your own stubborn head."

-Always wearing those damn glasses cuz STYLE but also to hide his eyes to remain as a sort of blank, emotionless slate to other people

-Absent parents who never showed him real love or support as he grew up so he struggles to do the same for others -> they were the reason he joined the army as soon as he turned 18

-When it comes to cuddling, he loves holding you against his chest and running his fingers along your arm, cheek, or through your hair; small but intimate actions like that are his favorite

-Doesn’t like to show emotions at all, even during more intimate moments; he needs some coaxing to relax in that way, which takes time

NSFW Below👇🏻 (it's really not too bad tho)

-Sit on his lap👀

-Will pin your wrists during the sexy times🫣

-EDGING & OVERSTIMULATION

-After his divorce, he's tended to view sex as more of a transaction where both parties are fulfilling needs for each other so he'd be selfish at first but as your relationship progresses, he'd become far more generous

[papaver-decervicatus]

Headcanons- König (featuring a bit of Sebastian Krueger)

Authors Note: Full disclosure, at this point König is basically an OC of mine with how specifically I think of him. Which, in fairness, cannot be helped when his entire characterization is limited to 20 mins of voice lines, 131 words in his bio, and multiplayer animations exclusively. I feel similarly about a lot of the other SpecGru/KorTac operators but König is definetely the most fleshed out because I've been writing a lot about him (at this point, like 30k words extended universe thing whoo-ee.)

A tag for the lovely @kneelingshadowsalome who has inspired me to write the above mentioned story and all this silly little world building about one of our favorite masked murder men~! Thanks for being so kind and pushing me to publish my work after so long ❣️

⚠️TW: Mentions of abuse, murder, undiagnosed mental struggles, ableism (?), sexual assault, and human trafficking

Birthday, March 15th, 1982

Full name: Julius Kilgore Doss

Early Life and Backstory

Born and raised in the slums of Vienna, Austria to a poor family. His father was frequently unemployed but focused on manual labor jobs (he was also like 6'10 like his son,) and his mother worked various hospitality jobs.

He gets his first name from being born on the Ides of March.

Teasingly called “Kaiser” as a child for his name. This resulted in a minor obsession with Roman history in an attempt to disprove these accusations. That failed.

Result of a “baby trap” from his father. His parents got married when he was 3 years old.

He is an only child, and he was an incredibly complicated pregnancy. His mother was on bed rest for two trimesters.

He was born with a pretty severe cleft palette, this was the original cause of his bullying

When König was 12 or so he got his cleft palate surgically corrected, but he got permanent scarring from the event. 

This did not help his bullying. The site became infected and required multiple follow-up surgeries to correct. 

He was severely abused by his father, who would frequently intentionally scar König in an attempt to “toughen” his “shy” son up. 

The behaviors he was trying to correct were just König’s undiagnosed neurodivergence and the abuse did nothing but make König retreat further into himself. 

Undiagnosed au/dhd. Primarily manifests in masking in a need of control of his environment.

As much as he desires company, he has such a hard time relating to others (not because he lacks empathy, but he experiences it differently) he tends to be a loner save a few very close loved ones. 

Sebastian Krueger is his mother’s brother’s son. Krueger's father was in the military. 

Originally joined the military to get away from his hell of home life at Krueger's father's recommendation. Has re-enlisted ever since.

König is 3 years older than Krueger (March 29th, 1985)  and the two grew up together.

Krueger also had a little sister but she died in a car accident at 11 along with his mom. From then on, Krueger's father, König’s mother, and father, Krueger and König all lived in a medium-sized flat in Vienna. The two shared bedrooms often. 

Krueger was well known as a serial delinquent and general creep when they were growing up. Despite his harsh reputation, König always stood up for him (which did not help his bullying). The only time he didn’t was when he beat Krueger to a bloody pulp for attempting to assault a girl. 

Krueger never attempted that again and later thanked König reluctantly for setting him straight before he did something really stupid. 

Krueger never stood up for König in front of his face for fear of showing weakness but definitely threw some punches behind his back in his stead (which further isolated König). 

When he was 19 and came back from his first deployment, Krueger's father had a mental break and lit the flat on fire after murdering König’s father. Krueger was out at the time. 

He got in time to save his mother, but he gained third-degree scars on the right side of his face, cheek, and over a lot of his legs. 

Super insecure about it, and avoids wearing shorts like the plague.

Will never admit it, super fucking glad his dad died. 

Very close with his mother's mother, his Oma. When she got too old to live on her own, she moved in with König’s mom and she gave König her house near Gosau, Austria.

Credits the metal scene as single-handedly saving his life at 13. He went to jump off a bridge and was talked down by a local metal band bass player who was 17 at the time. The two became friends and König joined the metal scene. 

He became sort of a stagehand for local bands and bulked up as a result. Found he liked working out (because people were less likely to make fun of him) so he kept at it. 

Got the nickname “König” from underground bare-knuckle boxing rings. He was scouted at a bar during a fight at 15 (he was 6’3 at the time, and still growing) where he beat up someone for attempting to spike a girl's drink when he was there helping his bass player friend. 

He fought for around 3 years on and off and never lost a fight. He made decent money and learned a lot of stuff about sparring in the process. 

He didn’t stop his tendency for fighting in the service and got reprimanded a couple of times for picking fights with soldiers he disagreed with. 

Has yet to lose a one-on-one spar with another man, but hasn’t fought anyone outside of training sparring in years.

Appearance

6’10 and 280lbs at his peak, trapezoid body type. Athleticism most resembles a Hockey Player or a Boxer. Has lost some musculature with age but definitely stays on top of it.

His face is partially numb because of all the surgeries to correct his cleft palate and all the scarring.

 Even though it’s been years since any trauma to the area, he has sort of a “disquieting effect” because he doesn’t emote properly from the numbness. Mostly just numb around the bottom of his “Greek-style” nose and through his burn scars. Smiles appear lopsided as a result

Strawberry blond, pin-straight hair, that gets darker when he’s deployed because the hood blocks sunlight bleaching. 

As a teenager he let it grow down to his shoulders because he was involved in the local Vienna metal scene, when he joined the military he cut it short. Doesn’t care because no one sees it anyways. It’s usually in a crew-cut style. 

Hair has thinned as he's gotten older, will probably bald at some point (but I hold onto hope that that one person on twitter who teased that his model does actually have hair is right because I think it would be funny for him to have an elaborate braid or something)

He has bunny teeth that he never bothered getting corrected because he was bullied so badly he kind of gave up on vanity. 

Has stretch marks all over his body because he’s so massive, they tend to act up during the winter. 

He is not vain enough to do anything about them besides moisturizing when needed. 

Generally does the bare minimum extra besides keeping himself clean. 

Uses generic military-grade laundry soap, generic antiperspirant, and unscented lotion, but he does use spruce-scented aftershave and tea tree shampoo. 

Likes having facial hair, but rarely gets to. 

Plenty of Freckles, beauty marks, moles, etc. beige cool-toned skin otherwise. 

Has various tattoos but no piercings. Tattoos include

Skull with a crown on his left shoulder

Trash polka war scene sleeve on his right arm through the shoulder. 

Bleeding Laurel crown on his sternum

Dagger at the base of his neck 

Various basic things like a lion, some roses, a couple of guns

Does not wear the hood when not on duty, it was originally a last minute addition to his uniform for anonymity when in the field working with terrorists.

General

Blood type is AB+

Contrary to popular belief, is not shy so much as he is awkward. Has built up a sarcastic, cocky, and harsh persona to avoid (what is in his mind) inevitable heartbreak and betrayal by those closest to him. 

Genuinely cocky. He believes his own hype on that front. 

Actually, a big teddy bear but, next to nobody gets close enough to him to find that out. 

He (probably) has ADHD that manifests in nervous movement. 

Never got tested, never will. 

Struggles with anxiety that leads to depression, but the military was decently good for his mental health because of the strict scheduling and forced camaraderie.

Does not have a temper problem as much as he has an impulse problem. He doesn’t get into fights because he’s angry, he gets into fights because he’s a cocky bastard who knows he’ll win and he wants to speed up the process of others leaving him alone/deferring to his plans

The big difference between König and Krueger is that König wants control over his surroundings and others to be comfortable, and Krueger wants others to be uncomfortable and he wants control over others and he doesn’t care about his surroundings.  

König mostly wants to throw his weight around to get left on his own, and Krueger wants to manipulate others to do his bidding. 

König would solve an ethical disagreement by explaining himself until he came to blows with the other party. 

Krueger would go behind their back once he knew he wasn’t going to get his way, but wouldn’t result in physical violence immediately. 

Krueger needs other people to feel powerful and in control; he doesn’t really believe that he has an equal or a superior. He thinks in terms of leverage and power. 

König feels less powerful and in control when he has a ton of other people in the mix: he doesn’t like the unknown variable of a possible weak link. He thinks in terms of self-sufficiency and sacrifice. 

Wanted to be a sniper because the position is a solitary one, he wants to be put in positions where he doesn’t have to trust other people because he simply does not trust other people 

He is a really good shot

Often Times gets into little skirmishes with snipers because of jealousy 

Another reason he couldn’t be a sniper was his red/green colorblindness. It’s moderate to severe. 

He is a people watcher, he is genuinely concerned with the people around him. Will remember even the smallest details if he’s close to someone (which is a hard position to earn.)

Has a very duplicitous way about him. Cunning, ruthless, and bloodthirsty on the field but in reality he’s a very agitated, demure sort of guy off the clock, especially in crowds.

 Gets his “berserker” energy out on the battlefield. Is typically much more relaxed in “civilian” life or when in leadership positions. 

Chronically the instructor who starts off making every recruit shit themselves but becomes a base favorite after basic training when he opens up and shreds a bass solo at drunk karaoke night

He hates civilian life for more than 6 months at a time. If he has to go much longer than that without doing something related to field work he gets incredibly antsy and like. Decides to build a whole ass barn on his property from scratch because he always has to have something to do. 

Was promoted to Colonel incredibly young (32) for the position due to his exemplary ability as an insertions specialist and as a leader. Never attempted a rank above it because of forced retirement requirements. 

The only reason I can personally see my version of König in KorTac is because somewhere along the line he fucked up and was either going to be forcibly retired or put out of active combat in the Austrian Special Forces. 

You don’t become a Colonel in the military for fun and desert for merc work, and shitty merc work at that. 

More than likely I think he was supposed to retire and that made him have a midlife crisis because König doesn’t see himself as a person, he sees himself as a soldier. Without the army, he’s nothing. He needs that stability, that outlet, that free pass at total carnage- so when the army told him he had to call it quits, he “retired” and went to KorTac under the specific condition that his name not get used for fear of tarnishing the Austrian special forces. 

Not a particularly big “Austrian culture” nut but he has his moments. 

Prefers Austrian foods that he grew up with, likes beer a lot (and has gotten drunk only once in his life because he’s. Fuckoff massive,) and doesn’t care about culture/history all that much. 

He more or less just finds comfort in stuff that reminds him of the happier parts of his childhood, mostly the mountains. 

König considers himself “traditional” in the sense that he doesn’t believe women should be on the front lines of combat. If he has to attack an enemy woman, he much prefers it to be with a gun at long range. 

Doesn’t necessarily think of women as “lesser” instead he firmly believes that they are superior to men because they are better humans, less violent, etc. 

The number one hatred in life is men who are sex traffickers. 

Hatred was acquired from his work.

Has had various stints in therapy because of what he’s seen.

Fond memories of the house he inherited from his Oma It’s where he lives when not deployed. 

He also has a decently expensive townhouse in Vienna, mostly from when he was a colonel and he needed to be close to Vienna for work-related reasons. 

Has a shitton of money from his work that he just doesn’t spend on anything. Drives a shitty car, and inherited a nice house, he doesn’t have anything to spend it on so he ends up giving most of it to his mom, grandma, and local charities. Still always has a ton left over. 

Is a lumberjack and carpenter for hobbies, and built most of the furniture in the house. 

Very much enjoys the alpine lifestyle. Hunts his own game, leatherworks, the whole nine yards. 

This bitch cannot draw. Stick figures that look like marks dogs made with pens in their teeth. Awful, awful, awful at drawing. 

Very much an “audio person” who can remember anything he’s heard but has sort of a terrible sight memory. 

His handwriting is so bad it puts 6-year-olds to shame. 

Not overly religious, but believes in god, more as a “wow. What a sicko. Makin everything then fucking it up” sort of way. Prays on occasion. 

Doesn’t watch tv or movies. Would rather listen to music, go hiking, or read nonfiction books in his free time. 

Small psychology fascination. He’s read a lot of early psychology essays, he’s the kind of guy who likes to read shit from Freud and go “I’m bad but thank god I’m not this fucked up”

The punchline, of course, is that he is that fucked up.

The most expensive thing he owns (discounting his guns, knives, car, or house) is a custom long-double neck electric bass. 

Her name is Wulkyrie

Extensive custom knife collection. Finds cleaning them soothing. 

His favorite is a Custom Glock Field Knife that is 10 inches long, has a serrated edge on the bottom, and has a red hand chord he wrapped himself. 

Has the engraving of an Edelweiss flower at the base, her name is Kaiserin (empress) 

She is his prized possession. Goes nowhere without it. 

He also has a gun collection. It is much smaller due to firearm restrictions, but he certainly has many more than is necessary. 

Mostly hunting rifles. Probably also has a custom game bow. 

He can handle being a leader, but he does not enjoy it. He hates being under people, too. He is such a good leader, though, because he hates the position and the power that comes with it, so his troops are the most self-sufficient, inventive, and well-trained platoon in the army at any given time. He creates other leaders because he’s a very selfless commander. 

Believes the mark of a great leader is not the willingness to lead, but instead the reluctance to let others get hurt. The only thing he hates more than having someone tell him what to do is letting down someone beneath him. 

He’s taken the fall for many of his subordinates' screw-ups, but he’s an all-or-nothing guy. If you’re not loyal to him, your ass is grass. 

Bonus! Romance HCs (very very very slightly NSFW)

Gave up on dating early in his military career. He had a couple of short-term girlfriends, each he ended upon realizing he probably couldn’t be there for them like they wanted. 

Not sexually inexperienced, but rarely has partners more than once or twice. Has had sex with ten different people in his life tops. 

Simultaneously very badly wants to and is completely terrified of being a father. Should the stars align, he’d want nothing more than to have a full house with a lovely wife and a gaggle of little ones in the Alps. 

Would want a traditional Austrian wedding, especially fond of the “bride stealing” tradition. 

preferably a capable woman he wouldn’t have to worry about leaving in the mountains, would also probably only end up with a pretty extroverted partner who pursued him first.

They fell first, he fell much much much much harder. Admires her from afar for a long time but doesn’t think he’s worthy so he never makes the first move. Once he realizes that she’s not going anywhere and can handle herself, he’s violently loyal. 

Also desperately wants a partner who is less strong than him so he can feel like his strength can be put to good use in protecting them. 

Has a marking fixation, clothing, jewelry, hickies, bruises, cum, etc. 

Anniversary presents include modest but expensive jewelry, knives, tools, and replacement bed frames for the ones that. Got broken. Whoops! 

Love languages are receiving physical touch and words of affirmation. Giving is physical touch and acts of service.

[things-of-fire]

LORE DUMP‼️‼️ Buckle up losers, I’ve got a new WoF AU and OCs to boot. Welcome to my shitty dragon crime drama.

It currently doesn’t have a title or anything, it just exists. Here’s the deets:

1. This story takes place several decades after Arc 3. A lot of canon characters still exist, meaning I’ll be referencing them and what they’ve become. Eventually I might develop this into a whole future AU, and write all the alliances and everything, but for now I’ll just mention some key players.

2. These characters live in a city called Unity. In A Guide to the Dragon World, Anemone mentioned wanting to build an intertribal city for MudWings, SeaWings and RainWings. Well, guess what! She did, and that’s Unity. Unfortunately, it’s hard to make dragons to get along, especially when generational wounds linger from the War of SandWing Succession. To make matters more complicated, many Pantalan dragons have settled in Unity, bringing with them unfamiliar ideas and abilities.

3. To outsiders, Unity is a gleaming beacon of hope for intertribal cooperation. Most visitors don’t stay long enough to witness anything more. Residents live in an entirely different world. Unity is ruled by multiple factions, known colloquially as Hordes. Hordes control anything and everything they can get their claws on. Some Hordes, inspired by the Outclaws of the Scorpion Den, try to maintain justice within Unity. Most exist to amass wealth and power.

4. Hordes may be intertribal or tribe-specific. Even those exclusive to one tribe may call upon agents from another for their unique abilities. Alliances are constantly shifting, and if you gain a reputation with the Hordes, it’s best that you make yourself forgettable—or risk getting swept up in their plans.

AND NOW FOR OUR CAST:

Iridescence is a sly RainWing-SilkWing hybrid living in the city of Unity. Her striking colors make her stand out in any crowd, but more striking is her reputation. She is notoriously clever, conniving, and coy, using her delicate appearance to lull others into a false sense of security. She primarily trades Pantalan imports, but under cover of night, she deals in more…sinister goods. Poisons are her specialty. With the help of Kudzu, her leafspeaking assistant, she cultivates dozens of toxic plants to use in her concoctions.

Kudzu is a reserved, cynical LeafWing. He hails from a small group of LeafWings who, resenting Queen Sequoia’s push for peace, left Pantala in pursuit of isolation. To avoid his parents’ preaching about Pantalan politics, he spent most of time studying the flora and fauna of Pyrrhia. He would later move to Unity, where he studied under a SeaWing doctor and eventually opened his own practice. Soon after, he began working with Iridescence, helping her make poisons in exchange for funding his studies. His true passion is medicine.

Salamander is a timid, quiet MudWing. MudWing troops are a common sight in Unity, but nobody knows which she hails from. Salamander prefers to keep it that way. Her Bigwings, Caiman, is one of Unity’s deadliest Horde bosses. Salamander is rarely involved with her sibs’ crimes—they consider her much too anxious to bring along—except when they need her fireproof scales. As of late, Salamander has been spending more time in Caiman’s neighborhood, raising suspicions about her loyalties. Fortunately, she has an alibi. Rumor has it that Caiman has developed smokesickness, a rare and potentially fatal disease. As one of Unity’s mail carriers, it’s simply Salamander’s job to deliver her medicine.

If you read this far, wow! Thanks! I hope it was interesting. You’ll probably be seeing more of these characters on my blog. Feel free to ask questions, make OCs/suggestions for this AU, etc etc. I’ll share more of their story as time goes on.

As a bonus, here’s a size reference for the characters, based on my tribe headcanons:

The bases were made by Joy Ang. I got these from the Wings of Fire wiki—I can’t remember who posted them but I’ll try and update with them soon. Edits and colors made by yours truly.

[xxkitty13]

Circus Freaks

LA Buggy x Fem reader

Contains: younger reader (20’s), violence

Previous chapter- Part 1: The Carnival

Next chapter- Part 3

Previously: Buggy arrived at the island of Febe to raid it. However, a change of plans caused him to host a carnival alongside his circus. Will he hold up to his scheme?

Part 2: First Glance

The fair winds blew across the meadows. The grass danced across the open field, its bristles soft against the skin. Y/n sat underneath an oak tree. It's her favorite spot when she wanted to be alone.

Her adoptive parents were being difficult today. Work on the farm was already tedious and receiving more chores at home was enough to drive her crazy. It can't be helped, that's how things rolled on this island. Work, work, work, and more work. It never ended.

Even so, y/n doesn't complain. The wildlife is beautiful here, it gives her a sense of peace.

"Y/n!"

Breaking the silence, a figure slowly approaches her. Y/n turns her gaze to the voice. She squinted to see who called her.

"Lyla? Is that you?"

"Yes! I knew I'd find you here."

"Is something wrong?"

"No, no. I'm here to take you back home." The woman grinned. It's her sister, child of her adoptive parents. She is of average height, with golden brown skin, and kinky hair. Despite being 5 years older, she acted like her mother.

"I don't want to go. Your parents are being hasty."

Lyla sighed and walked over to y/n. "I know how my parents are, but you're living under their roof. Until you move out like I did, you won't have to worry about the farm chores."

"Well, you're married now. Your husband has a good job and is able to afford a house."

"You don't have to get married to move out. That's something the older generation believes in. You can get a job or go back to school."

"But I can't afford school. Besides, working and going to college is not worth it. The jobs I qualify for won't cut it."

"You can't just stay with my parents forever nor out in this field"— Lyla grabs y/n's hand—"there must be something you want to do for yourself." She pulls her up from the ground and softens her look. "Come on, you're in your 20's. You still have plenty of time and energy."

Y/n looked at the ground. This is a topic she hated and her sister knew that.

"Look I didn't mean for you to mope. I came here for a different reason."

"What is it?"

"Carnival."

"Carnival?"

"Yes, didn't you hear about it? If you weren't isolated all the time you would have heard about it."

Lyla leaned closer to her ear. "And guess what? There's going to be a circus . . . you know what that means?" Picking her head up, y/n eyes widen. "That means you'll finally get to see a clown dummy," she snickered.

"A clown?"

Her chest warmed up rapidly as her heart fluttered. She couldn't believe it. There's an actual clown on the island.

"Now don't get too excited on me. Apparently he's a pirate clown. Strange isn't it?"

"What? A pirate who's a clown?"

"Look I said the same thing, but he's the real deal. Now come on, I'm taking you back to get ready."

She didn't have to tell her twice. Y/n face gleamed as they both made their way back to the town.

.°˖✧.°˖✧

Back in her room, y/n plopped on her bed. She grabbed the rag doll next to her. It is about 8 inches long. Its skin tone white, with bright blue fluffy hair. The doll had on a red jumpsuit with two white pompoms along the middle. It had a little red nose located in the middle of face with a giant smile. It is a rag doll of a clown- one of her priceless treasures.

Holding the doll up in the air, she smiled. Clowns are her favorite. It was the last gift her mother gave to her.

She closed her eyes holding the doll at her chest. Her mother always talked about the circus. She used to work as an acrobat before having y/n. In her stories, she would describe all the stunts she had to do. Dangerous ones that left her right leg damaged and finished her career in entertainment. She promised y/n that she would take her to one; sadly, that promise was broken when she passed away.

Despite being six at the time of her death, y/n remembers her stories. Since then, she dreamed of going to a circus. That dream would finally come true.

The sun was setting. It is almost time to leave. Y/n decided to wear a black above the knee dress. It had long flared sleeves and simple runched bust. Due to the chilly weather, she wore stalkings and platform boots. 

The only bright colors she wore with the outfit were her red wine lipstick and nails. Her makeup was simple- her painted lips with winged eyeliner and mascara.

To top the outfit off, she wore the silver cross necklace of her father— paired with small cross earrings. The cross of the necklace was beautiful, embedded with small red and green jewels. Y/n didn't wear it often, but it felt right for the occasion.

She made her way out the house, but was stopped.

"Where are you going? You never finished cleaning the animal corrals."

She turned around to face the stern look of the middle aged couple.

"Mr. and Mrs. Ti-"

"Mom. Dad. Leave her alone. She's worked hard this season. A little break won't hurt."

"Lyla don't give her excuses," said Mrs. Ti.

Grabbing y/n by the hand, Lyla took her out the front door. "Ok nice chat, I'll bring her back soon!"

"Wait-"

"Eh let them go darling. I think we've stressed her out enough. Besides, you know the circus is in town."

Mr. Ti closed the door and gave an assuring smile. He walked to the living room and sat on the couch, his wife followed behind.

"Poor girl. I hope it will make her happy. She's been having a relapse lately"— Mrs. Ti sat next to her husband—"I don't think her time at the cemetery does her any good."

Holding her hand, "She'll be okay. Sometimes a wound needs to reopen to be healed again."

.°˖✧.°˖✧

"Wow, you dressed up today." Lyla laughed seeing her sister blush.

"You look pretty."

"Thank you."

"By the way, my husband is coming with us. You don't mind?"

"No. I like Walo. Being a third wheel isn't so bad with you two," y/n smiled.

The two sisters walked on the dirt road between two fields of apple orchards. The breeze rustle the leaves of the trees. The sound was soothing.

"Look you can see the lights from here."

Approaching the top of the small hill, the flashing lights of the carnival were seen. The small amusement rides held laughing children. The food stands filled the space with its delicious aroma. In the middle of it all was a huge red and white stripped tent. That's where the clown is at.

Y/n dragged her sister, fastening her pace. It wasn't long till both women made it to the front gate. It was larger than it looked. The place was fenced up with cheap wood, but it added to the ambiance.

The entrance fee was only a few berries. They soon entered and looked around the place.

"Hey girls!"

"Walo!" Lyla shouted.

The couple hugged each other and kissed. Y/n only cringed at the act. It was weird to see her sister engaging in PDA, but she can't help to feel jealous at the loving relationship.

"Hey y/n, how are you? It's been a while."

"I'm doing okay. It's nice to see you."

Walo placed his arm over his wife's shoulder and steered the women toward the food stands.

"I heard the hot dogs are delicious. We should try some."

The trio made their way to the hot dog stand. The line did not take long. They each received a six inch hot dog, wrapped in bacon and topped with condiments of their choice. The smell of the sandwiched wiener made y/n's stomach grumble.

"Okay girls, the show will start in 15 minutes. Do you want to head inside the tent or look around?"

"Um dear, I don't think I can walk around and eat this large hot dog. Let's go in the tent," Lyla said barely cutting down the size of the wiener.

They all laughed and followed the crowd of people entering the circus tent.

Y/n followed behind the couple, nervously holding onto her hot dog. She could feel her hands shake. Nothing could describe how she felt. The entrance was dark, she watched her step as her body felt jittery.

Shortly, bright white lights beamed onto her face. The music became much louder with each step. The large lights moved across the space above, hitting the people sitting on the benches.

"Come on, there's still front row seats." Walo grabbed both women and ushered them to the seats to their right.

The place was larger than she imagined. The ceiling held the tight ropes for the show, a height that just made her gulp. Did her mother have to perform at such heights?

On the other side of the ring, a man on an unicycle balanced a spinning top on a large sword. Fascinating to say the least. Children gazed in awe at the man, only boasting his ego. Distracted by the man, bubbles were blown on her face. The woman with a red body suit winked at her as she continued to blow bubbles onto the crowd.

"Ppfft." The couple snickered next to her.

Embarrassed by the act she looked away, taking a bite off her hot dog. Scanning the area, she saw familiar faces and even one she wished not to see. It was someone in her cohort, one that has been harassing her for years. Recently, for her hand in marriage.

Their eyes meet. The man, with long black hair and piercing blue eyes, stared her down. He gave a flirty smile back. He's handsome, she could not deny that, but there was no attraction. People called her crazy for rejecting him throughout the years.

Women around her age crushed on him. He is slightly built, tall, and had a strong jawline. Y/n knew it was also for his money. Daddy's money in fact. His father is known to be the wealthiest on the island. She wouldn't mind being with a rich man, but he's an absolute asshole.

"Ugh, there goes Yasi," she groaned.

"Don't mind him. We're here for you," Lyla assured.

It was then the lights dimmed and everyone vanished from the ring. Fog machines blasted white smoke across the floor. A large spotlight focused on the large curtain in front of the audience.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the best show you'll ever witness. I am your host, Buggy, Buggy the Clown!"

A black silhouette emerged through the white smoke, his boots clacked onto the hard floor. A red-orange hat peaked from the cloudy fog, blue hair swayed with every step. That's when y/n watched intently, the red nose she's been dying to see glowed so brightly with the white light. Star-struck, her mouth hanged slightly open, too captivated to move an inch.

The audience clapped, Buggy roamed his eyes upon the people, feeling the praise. That's when he noticed one person who did not clap for his presence. He felt his blood begin to boil, but the look in the young woman's eyes was not what he expected.

The two locked eyes, his green orbs staring intensely onto y/n's. She gulped, feeling her face heat up at his heavy gaze. Buggy took a note of the woman, her face clearly flustered. This reaction was not something Buggy understood, it was probably his nose she stared at.

The stare down was brief, but it felt like an eternity. Buggy tried to brush it off; however, the woman's undivided attention sparked something inside of him. The clown quickly composed himself and continued the introduction.

"Before we begin this lovely spectacle, I would love to give thanks to Mr. Dun for providing us equipment and materials for this circus."

The townspeople cheered for their mayor, the spotlight beaming over him. The gesture was short as the light hovered back over to the clown.

"Now I hate to share the spotlight for so long, but I needed a small moment to feel humble. But that's over with, so please . . . let me hear your admiration once more."

The audience laughed at his cunning remark and clapped once more.

"Now let's begin with the show!"

People roared in excitement as the lights dimmed once again. Colorful lights flashed amongst the tent. With the booming music, four people consecutively backflipped across the edge the ring. Two men and two women with dazzling tight blue body suits waved to the crowd.

"These must be the acrobats," y/n whispered to herself.

Four satin blue fabric unrolled from the ceiling. Each acrobat climbed and twisting themselves up high from the floor. Astonishing core strength was used to maintain themselves from a brutal fall. The acrobats wrapped their ankles tightly with the fabric and hanged themselves upside down, spinning in place.

Act after act, the audience was amazed by the unprecedented talent. Sure each entertainer gave a spectacular show, but y/n could not advert her eyes from the pirate clown. Buggy noticed this and he loved every second of it. He had to get close to her.

It was time for a small break and Buggy re-entered the ring. "Was that not a show?" He raised his arms awaiting for the usual cheers. "Now, I need a little helper for this next part. Anybody wants volunteer?"

Young children shouted and raised their hands. Buggy is not interested in them whatsoever. He was hoping for his fan to desperately call out to him, but she did not. Disappointed at this he slowly made his way to her side of the ring, faking his watch for a volunteer.

"You."

He stood in front of her, holding his white gloved hand out. Y/n looked into his compelling eyes. The blue paint marks complimented his green orbs. His long bottom eyelashes overlayed the glitter under his eyes. Despite the clown makeup, she found him absolutely handsome.

The clown is obviously older than her, but with age, a new form of sex appeal blossomed. There is a strong manly sense to him— unlike Yasi. His jaw covered with stubble was something y/n never expected to find attractive, but such masculine features is what Yasi lacked. Breaking out of her trance, she felt everyone looking at her. She hated this amount of attention. Polar opposite of Buggy, who thrived on it.

"Stage fright? Don't worry, you'll be fine cupcake." Buggy gave her a playful, but sexy grin. This gesture melted her away, exactly what he intended to do.

She hesitantly grabbed his larger hand. He gently grasped it as he guided her to the middle of the ring.

"What's your name darling?" He sultry whispered.

"Y/n," she replied quietly. Buggy simply hummed at the sound of her voice.

She observed his features in the new lighting, to which defined his sculpted cheekbones. His clown nose hid such sharp features, but she didn't mind. Taking a closer look, its texture resembled that of an orange, very porous. It seemed real.

Cutting her thoughts, Buggy retrieved a white scarf from within his leather coat.

"For this next performance, our little volunteer will be blindfolded." As she began to protest, Buggy quickly went behind her and placed the blindfold. "Have trust in me, I won't hurt you," he chuckled at her ear. His voice raised goosebumps on her skin.

Two of his subordinates brought in a large wooden board. It contained black straps on each corner. If it was someone else, he would have used the good old spinning wheel of death.

With the help of his assistants, Buggy placed y/n onto the platform in front of the board. Each of her limbs were constrained tightly.

Reaching into his coat, Buggy pulled out four blades, holding them between his fingers. The audience gasp, uneasy of the next stunt.

"Is that safe?" Lyla said with a worried look. She bit her finger, gripping onto her husband's arm.

Y/n could feel the change of atmosphere. She grows anxious, wondering what Buggy would do next. That's when she felt a breeze by her wrist, followed by another one near her hip. Sweat began to form on the palm of her hands.

"Two more to go, can I get my blades get any closer to her body?" We shall see."

With a heinous laugh, he threw the third blade near the side of her throat, about an inch away from her skin. Y/n jumped. Her eyes began to water from fear.

"One more left."

The people watching had mixed emotions. Some, like Lyla, could not bear to watch. The other half were ready to see where the final blade would land. The thrill caused a large chant. "One more, one more, one more!" They kept repeating.

Gulping hard, y/n embraced herself for the last throw. Buggy rolled his free hand to encourage the crowd. He lived for this excitement. To add to the suspense, the clown turned around and took three large steps forward. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in. It is dead silent now. The awful silent ringing filled y/n's ears. She couldn't take it anymore, with her racing heart, an anxiety attack began to form.

Before she could feel a tear run down her cheek, a loud thud boomed next to her left ear. The vibrating sound of metal rang through the ring, followed by screams.

One of the assistants removed the blindfold. The blazing lights burned as she tried to open her eyelids. That's when she noticed the semi large blade right by her ear, approximately one centimeter apart. She took a deep sigh of relief. It was finally over.

The assistant removed her from the constraints and Buggy made his way to the dismayed woman. Reaching his hand out once more, he offered to help her down the platform. Y/n stared at it, not sure if she should. With a shivering hand she reached for his.

"You're a brave one."

"Really?" she murmured.

"People usually scream at the first throw."

Looking away with a flustered face, she wiped her watery eyes, not caring for her makeup. Buggy accompanied her back to her seat. He gave her a handkerchief to help with her smudged mascara.

"Sorry if I ruined ya makeup. You still look cute," he said with a flirty wink.

Taken aback by the compliment, she fluttered her eye lashes to pull herself together.

"Are you okay? He didn't hurt you, right?"

Y/n shook her head. "I'm okay."

Lyla nodded at her response, placing her head on Walo's shoulder.

The show continued with its final acts— obviously ending with a bang as a person was blasted from a canon ball. People left the tent shortly after. The trio stayed behind, not wanting to join the chaos at the exit. Y/n closed her eyes, trying to take in the intense night. Never would she have imagined a circus to be like this, yet it did exceed her expectations. She smiled, thinking of her mother.

"I finally witness the circus mom."

Lyla rubbed her sister's back. "Come on, let's go. The exit is free now."

Before the trio could reach the exit, someone yelled out to them.

"Hey!"

The three turned their heads back, not wanting to interact with that voice. Yasi approached them and stood in front of y/n. He looked down at her with a weird expression.

"What do you want?" Y/n spoke.

"What do I want? I came here to get an explanation about what happened earlier."

Perplexed by his comment Y/n wrinkled her brows.

"Don't make that face. You know what I mean."

"No, I don't."

Angered, he raised his voice. "What the fuck was that about with that clown? You guys were eyeing each other for a hot minute."

Her heart sunk, she didn't think anybody would notice.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Stop being weird." Y/n turned around to leave.

Yasi yanked her before she could escape, ripping the bust of her dress. She quickly held the material in place, hoping no one saw her breast.

"Okay that's enough Yasi. You've done it this time." Walo pushed him back.

"Oh, you wouldn't dare touch me. You work under my father. I don't think you'll like to be unemployed, would you?" Yasi plastered a wicked smile.

"Now, as your future husband, I'll have to discipline you Y/n!" He leaped in front of her, throwing her down.

As Yasi raised his right arm, something knocked him to the bleachers.

"Who did that?!"

Yasi looked up to see a figure approaching him. It was the clown.

"I'm going have to ask you to leave. The show has finished," he said sternly.

"Mind your fucking business clown."

Irritated by the brat, Buggy called in his crewmate to throw the man out.

"I'm not letting you freaks touch me. I will be leaving on my own will, not because you said so."

Yasi bumped against Buggy's shoulder, eyeing down at y/n as Lyla embraced her. He huffed and barged out of the tent.

Buggy tried to approach the startled girl, but embarrassed by her state, she turned around before he could notice her exposed chest. She ran off, leaving her sister and Walo behind.

"Y/n, wait!"

The two ran off after her, leaving Buggy at the entrance of the abandoned tent. Unsure on what to do, he looked at the night sky. It’s a full moon tonight, it dazzled brightly upon his face. The stars shimmered, dancing for the black sky— the ambiance felt different. That's when a glimmer caught the corner of his eye. It's the sliver necklace the young woman wore. The moonlight reflected off the precious gems. He picked it up and got a closer look at it.

It's beautiful, definitely a necklace of a high value. Part of him wanted to keep it for himself; instead, he decided to keep it safe. Buggy wore it over his neck, making sure to hide it under his scarf.

"What was that about captain?"

"Don't worry about it. Just some toxic fan."

Buggy pivoted and walked back in the tent, holding onto his scarf. "Let's go, we haven't finished our closing shift duties."

[minecraftbookshelf]

what even Happened during the MOS rivendell siblings childhood, anyway? or, what are you willing to say that's not a spoiler? like, apparently Scott wound up living feral in the mountains? Xornoth disavowed both of his original names and burnt down the entire palace in a coup??? everyone thought that he killed Scott for some reason? i'm guessing that their parents didn't take the whole "divine connection" thing well, but i am still very confused

So yeah, A Lot Happened to the MoS Rivendell siblings!

I am avoiding talking some parts of it, not because of spoilers or anything (I genuinely do not care about spoilers) but because I've labelled some key things off limits purely so my brain doesn't decide "well, we've talked about that, no need to actually write the story!"

That being said...

Scott didn't so much live feral in the mountains as there were some emotionally volatile moments in his (equivalent to) teen years that he dealt with by running away into the mountains. Usually for a day or two at most and he never went too far. Basically anytime he and Xornoth had a big fight that is what would happen. (small and medium fights he would either go to the sheep shack or the owlery. Sometimes the church.)

Xornoth did disavow their original two names. They are going to get a whole backstory fic all to themselves so a lot of that will be covered there. And yes, Rivendell no longer has a palace because Xornoth did indeed burn it down! (From a worldbuilding and plot perspective, that comes from the way that Smajor picked a location for a palace but never actually built it. For the Doylist explanation XD)

Basically after Xornoth's coup, Scott just disappeared from public life. He's out and about in Rivendell's capitol itself of course, but a lot of the other elven villages haven't even had any kind of visual confirmation that he wasn't killed along with his parents. Internationally, Xornoth brought Rivendell out of isolation so none of the other emperors besides Katherine (and maybe Pix) had ever even met Scott before and none of them ever really got a solid answer on what went down when Xornoth seized power. So most of them assume that Xornoth killed their brother along with their parents. (This is also the only reason some of the other emperors even know Xornoth ever had a brother. This will come up in the fic I have in progress about Joey and Xornoth's first meetings.)

And the sort of brutally practical truth of the matter is that most of the other emperors either can't afford to care about that, or only care about it in the sense of being wary of Xornoth in general. Pearl is the one who has spent the most time with Xornoth one-on-one in informal settings and she is pretty sure Scott isn't dead just from what she's picked up both about Xornoth as a person and the occasional things they've let slip but Xornoth is very tight-lipped about Scott in general.

Katherine knows Scott is alive and even visits sometimes but is sworn to secrecy.

And yeah, their parents did not take it well. At all. Thus the series of events that led to eventual patricide and coup. (Which wasn't originally intended as a coup, that was kind of accidental.)

It's okay that its a bit confusing right now, there's a lot about this au that will be revealed in bits and pieces as the story goes along and eventually it should all make sense!

[fedethemace]

Giving my two cents seeing the comments there: even if It looks like youre saying different things from One another, you guys are, infact, all corredt. Let me explains why. Longass character analysis ahead.

Also, MANGA SPOILERS ALERT, SO BEWARE!‼️‼️‼️‼️

You gotta take in the social environment difference there. Yes, Toshiro has grown both as a rich master, hes polite and shy (as reason why he idealizes Falin even).

He also is from a completely different culture than the two siblings, and hes not uses to Laios overly friendliness (which Is a trait that, believe me, I myself share with him with people I'm comfortable with, not blaming the blond Boi for BEING like this).

Laios should not mask Better, not at all: the man should Just learn how to share this trait with people whom are comfortable with this trait. Learning get more social skills isn't masking, It IS respecting other people's boundaries instead.

Notice how the writer points out that some customs in the Island which Is very "general European" coded has different customs from the East, where Toshiro Is from, in his case from a very japanese coded country. There Is not only differences, but unfortunaltely, casual racism as well.Hell, Kabru party even asks Rin the very insensitive question if She knows them because they're both from the East! Sounds familiar?

Which brings us to the mispronouncing of Toshiro name. Can you Imagine coming to a foregein place, learn a new language, try to mind your own business, you start to really like a girl that seem so similar to you, calm and polite, and suddently your cowoker thinks you guys are bestfriends. He keeps mispronouncing your name, gets in your own personal space all the times, he interrupts moments with the girl that you like, and you feel incredibile uncomfortable, to the point that at One point It explodes in a fistfight, you tell the guy that he has to stop, that hes the worse, that you were NEVER bestfriends, why cant this guy get a hint, why Is he so reckless?? Why the fuck did he became a criminal, purring the girl you love in a compromising position with th authorities????

But...on the other hand. Imagine that you're like Laios. You Always lived isolated. Your only friend Is your Little sister, Who became an outcast for a field your parents and your Town dont understand. You are all you have. You don't understand social queue well at all, and are NOT initially aware of It. Just looks like everyone dislikes you for some reason and you don't get why.

Then you and your Lil sis start a new job. You DO get Friends with your cowokers. Sure sometimes they tease you, but they deeply care about you, THEY SPELL IT OUT TO YOU as you are about to get in trouble for your sister wellbeing!

You finally found people you belong with...and then the One you thought you bond with the most, that you considered your bestfriend, tells you that he despises you and you're an horrible person. That you got your sister in danger and are NOT his friend. Then why the hell didnt he told you out BEFORE and didnt tell you out loud??? You WOULD have listened, as many times as you did before. You are so hurt, you guys get in a fistfight even.

This Is literally what the comments there accurately depicted as an autistic nightmare. And I think I wrote enough to explain that this Is 100% a cultural/social Clash and neurodivergence Clash. Because yes I think Toshiro also has a form of neurodivergence + he has a higher status compared to Laios. He cant understand how someone like him cannot take an hint, he probably thinks he Is being annoying on purpose. They're completely different and cannot find a way to get along then, right? Well...

The fact Is tho...they do overcome this at the end.

Not because Laios "stops being autistic", not Toshiro has stopped being himself either: they just grew to understand eachother more. Toshiro also learns Who the real Falin Is (not an idealized girl of his dreams, but a strong sweet Maiden with a LOT of flaws), and despite his feeling persisting, he doesnt assume she'll fall for him... because She never loved him, but grew to like him as a friend, and Will see him in the future.

Dungeon meshi Is an Amazing story about food, growth, and living with your own disability, your own culture, being yourself, and start to respect other people differences and boundaries.

If there's One thing that this story teaches you, Is that people don't live in a vacuum and there are some things that we Will initially fight over. We could LET them head us to war like It often happens...

Or we could learn from eachother and live in peace.

Thank you for coming to mu Ted Talk.

Final disclaimer: I am NOT a Person of color, I'm infact a white European from Italy. All I did was giving my two cents as a probably neurodivergent guy adapting to social queues well into adulthood and learn to respect other people and other cultures. DM surely helped. Thanks again!

Interrupting Falin talk to bring you the scene that shows why Laios really great autistic representation and why Shuro is the worst. he's a well written character but I hate him

[leffee]

I thought I’d talk about the girlfriend thing from my last thing I since the mom thing is going to be a whole thing lol

So where it came from was I had a thought that he would try to find himself being a bit confused if you will only because he knew he was close to Sunil but wasn’t sure of his feelings in general but he also would try to not rule out women basically trying to stay open in the beginning to anything.

!Trigger warning! Just in case I hope you’re ok with this I know it’s a bit much!!

He met her at a coffee shop.. she was nice enough.. he struck up a conversation with her because he’s friendly.. he thought she was nice..pretty..maybe she could be what he was looking for? He still wasn’t sure of his feelings in all honesty..he didn’t feel anything but she did.. so he asked her out thinking that maybe it took time.. it was going well at first a few laughs.. a few dates then she started getting a big pushy.. a bit mean.. take me here.. she wants the best restaurants..she wants expensive gifts! ok so she likes the finer things that’s ok!..then the accusations he’s cheating.. he talks to Sunil to much.. she isolates him more and more..he tries to object and talk it though.. she doesn’t like that.. a slap! a punch! he has to listen or it happens again and again so he’ll learn right? Then comes the intimacy whenever she wants with whoever she wants.. but it’s not cheating she tells him! he wants to leave.. break up.. but it’s hard..it’s scary.. she has so much control.. he can’t.. he’s stuck, he’d scared,he’s bruised,he’s mentally drained.. he’s rethinking everything he cries much more then he would care to admit.. but he hides it well..he doesn’t want to worry anyone everything this is normal right? It’s how he was raised with parents who taught him that this was normal.. BUT there’s one man who showed him that it’s NOT ..Sunil.. who knew that Vinnie wasn’t acting right wasn’t himself..who didn’t buy the act, who was suspicious from day one! the gut feeling he had was strong this time he knew what he had to do..

Sunil comes over unannounced with all of the rest of his friends behind him and confronts her.. a lot of screaming and arguing and some police assistance later she was arrested..

Vinnie stayed with friends..he’s safe.. but being alone again was hard.. but what was harder was fighting everything mentally all over again.. memories came back from his past.. were all women like this? Everyone outside of his circle couldn’t really be trusted right away especially ..women…

But men.. the one man he could trust was still there like he always had been he was still there.. his comfort, his best friend, his everything sunil.. and rusty he knew he would always be there to he explain everything to him they got along great.. shivers was so fun to hang with and play video games.. and Esteban helped him learn how to dance in a whole new way being at his dance studio was one of the best things ever!

So maybe one day he’d try again but he was fairly certain that men were the direction he’d probably be leaning toward.. but a few other things down the line in his life would definitely confirm that for him.

I would like to clarify that not all women are like this! and yes he shouldn’t let one bad experience ruin it for him. But mentally it would take time to heal from all the bad experiences some women in his life had put him through including his parents (which will be explained in another post) in The back of his mind he knew that men were what he was leaning towards in the first place but didn’t want to limit himself it doesn’t mean that strangers are scary either he still doesn’t mind being around women or trying to befriend, work with or talk to them! He just wouldn’t date them It just time but he will heal and continue to grow!

Let me know if you’re still interested in the mom’s thing!



(Added after writing it all: just wanted to say that I have barely checked this whole thing for typos etc because it's long and for once I'm not willing to go through all of it to check it because I want to post it as quickly as possible. Just a heads up and I'm sorry :') )

Okay okay so you know already how much I love everything about it, I love when my son's in pain!! I want to say sooo much but there's so much text (which I looove) I just don't know how much I will be able to do, I will try though.

Oh yeah, here and now I tell you that I of course appreciate the trigger warning, plus someone else might need it, but seriously, I don't think there's anything that I personally would need trigger warning for :3 I love everything and anything containing mental/physical/both anguish, it's not too much at all.

I really like that Vinnie's fine with her liking "the finer things" like in general, look how nice he is! Though of course in this particular case it was not okay at all :'). Also I thing we should give her a name so I don't call her per "she" or "girl" all the time. I will call her hmmmm Violet. Yeah, she's that. Such a nice name for such a vile girl...

Ok ok so I can just imagine the look of shock on Vinnie's face the first time she slapped him. I imagine he barely registered the pain because, sure she was pushy and mean to him sometimes, but he did not expect anything physical at all. So he was just left standing there, rooted to the ground as he tried to process what just happened, with a red mark quickly appearing on his face. Oh I love when he's in pain.

And that line "He has to listen or it happens again and again so he’ll learn right?". Like, damn this is so cruel from Violet. Because he would never raise his hand at her, of course he wouldn't! But he thinks it's somewhat alright if he's the one doing it to him... After all, he's the man, he can take it, right? After all, what's a single slap or punch? it's not that bad... At first it really isn't, but of course later it becomes much worse. The thing is he has an easy explanation, it's not like he will tell his girlfriend is hitting him, of course he won't... it just happened a few times, no big deal... And that explanation is his clumsiness, he can just say that he tripped. the thing is, I think at first no one would even question him if they noticed, Vinnie is always covered with bruises, nothing new. Until it starts happening a little too often. Besides, marks and bruises on his face of all places? That's not something he usually bruised when falling over.

I know this a hypothetical scenario, but I can't help but wonder if Violet at the beginning genuinely loved him or was otherwise genuinely, positively interested in him or was she like that from the very beginning.

And then there's the part of him wanting to break up but being unable to, a masterpiece! You know, you actually descirbed it pretty accurately to how it works in real life. In real life people having abusive partners (on top of other reasons of course) don't break up because of safety reasons. Sounds paradoxical, doesn't it? But no, not exactly. Safety is in predactibility. So even if a partner is abusive, at least the one their abusing often knows what to expect from them. Yeah, it hurts, but it's something they know, and something you know=something your brain deems as safe (even if it's really not). And so I imagine this is the kind of vicious cycle Vinnie would feel himself trapped in (again, on top of everything else).

Ah, my whump loving self actually adores it! He's bruised, good good, I can just imagine his battered body, and not only face of course because that's why too visible. I can just imagine he would because of it move a bit more stiffly, he wouldn't dance because it simply hurts that much to move at all, especially when doing all those bendy things while dancing, it's just a big no-no.

And he's mentally drained, even better! Oh, the spark gradually disappearing in his eyes, how did he get to be like that again? Everything was alright not so long ago, was it his fault? Did he really deserve it? Something tells him he did, otherwise Violet wouldn't treat him like that, right? And she wouldn't cheat on him if he was just a little better overall. He can change... it shouldn't be that hard, should it? She's a nice girl after all...

Plus the bit of him thinking that this is all normal. I. Love. It!! I know I know, I said it multiple times already, but I just really love when he suffers. And his parents taught him this was normal? Oh my, perfect! Poor Vinnie I mean, but damn.

Just... Vinnie gradually being more and more broken while being with Violet. He just... falls apart step by step, at the same time of course trying to act like nothing bad is going on with him, because he's Vinnie, he can take it, it's not that bad (it is), plus it's normal, right? I just *squeals* I can see that so much, the gradual change. His hair being messy, bags under his eyes, just tired lines on his face from crying. And then looking like he's always out of it because he barely sleeps, or he pumps so much caffeine into himself that's he's left trembling but at least awake. He stops doing everything that brought him happiness before because it just doesn't anymore because he's constantly thinking about things with Violet and all that. I just aaah. He's so pretty when he suffers <3 which just makes me love Violet but also despise her so much.

Anyway, so yeah, Sunil can tell. But wait!!! What if, you know Sunil has those visions of his right? So what if aside from gut feeling, the first day or so when Vinnie got with Violet Sunil had some vision about Violet abusing Vinnie, but at first was very confused and not willing to trust it because quite frankly, what the hell. Needles to say though it wasn't wrong.

Now going to that next bit with everyone coming over, I can't help but imagine they did while she was beating the absolute shit out of Vinnie like she often did, because he, in her opinion, did something wrong. There's some blood too, maybe from his nose or something. And during the whole confrontation bit and also police I can just imagine he's so fucking torn. Because everyone's just talking to him so much and there's so much "Vinnie!" "Vinnie!" and some more "Vinnie!" and he just... doesn't know. On one hand there are his friends and he would kill for them, but then there's Violet who insists he help her, so he just keeps going forward to her, then stopping, going back, because what the hell is he supposed to do??? He's so overwhelmed and he knows logically his friends are right, but he feels forced to be on Violet's side, the whole safety thing I mentioned earlier. Plus, she will beat him up more if he doesn't help her, won't she? ...He has to help her, she's his girlfriend, right? So yeah, just really really torn in two. He has no idea who he's supposed to listen to and he's so overstimulated, all this fighting, all this screaming, especially in his head.

But then it ends, she's... gone? Police? He barely knows what happened. But it's suddenly so quiet. So calm? He's not sure. Wasn't he in pain? If he's safe now and if it was the right thing to do then why does he feel so empty?

And this line "were all women like this?" I just feel his pain so much, with all the pain he endured I can blame him, first his mom/s (in my and yours headcanons :3) and then his girlfriend? I can just imagine this disapointment, because he doesn't want to, but he can see the pattern. And the this "Everyone outside of his circle couldn’t really be trusted right away especially ..women…". Oh hells yeah, this is so raw. Yes yes he doesn't trust anyone outside of it! It's just soooo mwah! Perfection. I don't know what else to add here, but I do love me a Vinnie with trust issues. What can I say, he definitely has anxious (sometimes called ambivalent) attachment style, trust me😀👍.

So yeah, I soooo understand your headcanon about him with men versus women now and I love it. And the stuff with Sunil, Russell, Shivers (even though I think he would be pissed at him a bit due to that whole living with him at one point headcanon of yours haha) and Esteban. God, I love me some Vinnie and Esteban stuff.

But of course he still love their girls!!! Of course he does, they can be (mostly) trusted, but as you said, anyone outside this circle? Hmm not so much, he's much more apprehensive. And Sunil... ah, his everything!

Yes yes, of course not all girls are like this, obviously! And while this is technically "just" one experience, oh I would love if it did ruin it for him :3. I mean, it was pretty damn traumatic, and I just love to think he's way more affected than it shows. I'm personally in the boat of no forgivness for certain people, and she's definitely one of those people that if it were me I would not forgive in the slightest, and like if it was mt friend or something I would also think that. Look, some people just don't deserve forgivness if you ask me, there are plenty of people that if they came crawling to me with apologies I would happily make them dig their own grave and then shoot in the head so they fall to said grave. It's not that hard not to ba a total asshole especially for prolonged periods of time, you know?

Like, people so often say that if a teenager did something really bad they scrutanize it, yes, but often add "they were just stupid teenagers, and we all did something stupid when we were teenagers". Like, no??? It's not that hard to be a decent human being. I don't care if you're a shit girlfriend while you're 14, 25 or 65, you're still a shithead. Okay okay, I sidetracked.

Something else? I mean, I could talk about it for hours, but I think that's all [short version lol]. As you already know I would love to see the thing about his parents so much, feel free to drag him through as much pain as you want, I'm completely willing to see him like that :3.

Also, I know the whole healing part and all and that it's good. But I would just love if he didn't heal. Pain and suffering forever!!! There's so much emphasis on healing in today's world, which is good of course, especially in real life, duh! But my fav fictional characters? I would just love if they didn't heal. Character development/growth? Hate her more often then not, I don't want my blorbos to heal damn it, I want them to be in pain and he's no different.

Damn it, why did I have to give her the best name possible, I could have just named her Kunegunda (it's an old Polish name and it sounds really funny), it would have been so much easier.

[priestessofspiders]

Blue Eyes

I’ve always been passionate about animals, even when I was a very young girl. I used to beg my parents repeatedly almost every week to take me to the zoo, and the family television was practically always tuned to Animal Planet, much to the chagrin of my video game obsessed older brother. I wanted to go into veterinary medicine as a career, but the cost of schooling, amount of time it would take to get my degree, and frankly grueling work hours eventually made it clear to me that that wouldn’t be an option.

Still, I made the best of the hand I was dealt, choosing to work at various animal shelters, non-profits, and other organizations associated with animals. I even had a short stint working as a janitor at the zoo I used to be so excited to visit as a child, though the commute was Hell. I had to quit that last job because it turned out that behind the scenes the zoo administration was taking far worse care of their animals than I would have liked, and I didn’t feel comfortable being complicit in their mistreatment.

In any event, this path in life eventually led me to work at a small wildlife rescue. It wasn’t an especially glamorous position, and I will freely admit the pay was abysmal, but I had a chance to make a genuine difference in the world, and that made me happy. For every sick deer or injured goose we nursed back to health, I felt like I had a real purpose.

It wasn’t always a particularly pleasant gig, if I'm being entirely honest. Even the most ardent nature lover will soon find that the task of saving wild animals begins to lose its luster after week after week of squirrel bites and diseased bird shit. Nonetheless, I genuinely did enjoy my job. At least until that final night. The night that made me never want to work with animals ever again.

See, while we didn’t have the staff to do this every night, when we had a chance to we would have a skeleton crew run the graveyard shift, since a lot of the time we’d come in the next morning to find a half-dozen missed calls from people who wanted help with some nocturnal critter or another. I was happy for the extra pay, and most of the time things were fairly quiet, so I had a chance to put up my feet and read a book or mess about on my phone in between having frantic callers ask if they could bring in a bat that had flown into their home.

That particular evening I was pacing between social media apps on my phone out of boredom when we got a call from what sounded like a very distressed middle aged man.

“This is the _____ Wildlife Rescue, how can I help you?”

“Hi uh. Well. I don’t know how to put this exactly, I know it sounds crazy, but there’s a wolf in my front yard.”

He was right. It did sound crazy. From what I was aware, there were no wolves in this state outside of zoo animals, and I highly doubted one had managed to escape captivity at my former place of employment and find its way over to this relatively isolated area. The place I lived in was not a large town by any means, little more than a couple streets full of shops surrounded by a vestigial suburb and some farmland.

“Sir, are you absolutely sure it’s a wolf? We don’t really have those around here, it’s significantly more likely it might just be a stray dog, maybe a coyote at worst.”

“I don’t- I don’t know for sure but… it’s big. Real big. If it’s a dog it’s certainly the biggest one I’ve ever seen. And there’s something wrong with how it moves, like it’s got a limp or something, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. I think it might only have three legs.”

I got the man’s address and thanked him for his time before getting up to go grab the other member of the skeleton crew, let’s call him Jake. Jake had been there a little bit longer than me, and we generally got along pretty well. He used to be studying to become a veterinary technician but the stress got to him and he decided to take a job here instead. His experience with at least some veterinary medicine made him a great asset, though he did sometimes make some very stupid decisions. I once had to stop him trying to grab a rattlesnake with his bare hands just because he was so excited for an opportunity to catch a snake. However, the main reason I wanted him to accompany me was that he was quite a large man, and there was something about the whole situation which from the get-go made me very nervous. I felt a lot more comfortable bringing along someone who looked like he could bench press 400 lbs if he had to.

The farmhouse that the man had called from was only a quick drive away, maybe 15 minutes at most. At the time I thought this was quite fortunate. While the full moon was shining bright enough for us to see the road fairly well, I never liked driving long distances on these country roads after dark. I always worried a deer or something might jump out in front of the Wildlife Rescue’s crappy old van or that’d I’d take a wrong turn or something like that.

Unfortunately for Jake and I, we arrived without any difficulties at the farmhouse, and the animal was still there. I can’t quite bring myself to say it was a wolf, not after what I experienced.

It certainly looked like one though, which was quite the shock. Both Jake and I let out a near simultaneous murmur of “Holy shit” as we caught our first glimpse of the thing. Something people often forget is that wolves are big, up to 180 lbs at the largest. For comparison, huskies only get up to about 60 lbs at the most. This thing was enormous.

“That has to be a wolf. No way in Hell is this thing just a stray dog”, mused Jake.

“It might be a wolfdog,” I suggested, “it doesn’t quite look like a wolf does it? There’s something off about the proportions.”

Something about the thing’s physiology bothered me, but I couldn’t put my finger on why. It just wasn’t moving the way it should have. I was reminded of a video I’d seen a couple months ago of an extremely realistic animatronic, something made for an amusement park I think. It was quite well-crafted to be sure, it didn’t even tick off the usual “uncanny valley” alarm bells when I looked at its face, but the movements weren’t quite right. I felt the same way looking at that thing in front of the farmhouse.

The animal was looking at us now, staring towards the van, its eyes glowing in the reflected beam from our headlights. It didn’t run though, it just continued to pace, looking at us. Jake and I were stepping out of the van at this point, not sure what our next course of action would be, but determined to do our best regardless.

I found myself fiddling with my necklace as we approached; a gift from my grandfather. It’s a makeshift medallion fashioned out of an old silver dollar and suspended on a leather cord. He’d had a little hobby of making jewelry from old knick knacks, and at home I had a small collection of earrings, necklaces, bracelets, brooches, and the like, all made from various random objects. He’d unfortunately passed away a few years back, and I tried to wear at least something he’d made every day as a way to keep his memory alive. I recall him telling me after he gave me the medallion, “Now you’ll be safe in a gunfight, so long as you wear this over your heart” with a grandfatherly wink, as if I was at any risk of being a victim of old west banditry in the 21st century.

I was snapped out of my idle remembering by the sound of Jake’s voice, though I didn’t quite catch what he said. “Hm?” I muttered, indicating that he should repeat himself.

“I said it’s gotta be someone’s pet. Some rich guy bought himself a three legged wolfdog and it got out of the house maybe?” he said. Now that we were a little closer, it was clear that the animal was only walking on three legs, though it moved about with quite a degree of dexterity, as though it had long grown used to the condition.

It kept pacing back and forth, back and forth, just looking at us. Its eyes were a brilliant blue, which was a definite tip off that whatever this thing was, it wasn’t a proper wolf. When it comes to canines, blue eyes are strictly a trait of dogs. There was something else I noticed though, its tail wasn’t quite right. It seemed too stiff, and a bit too long. Suddenly it clicked in my brain what was wrong with it.

“It’s not missing a leg. Look,” I said, pointing, “it’s just sticking out one of its hind legs. Maybe it’s wounded or something like that?”

As if in response to my words, the “wolfdog” stopped pacing, looking directly at me specifically. I could feel when it made eye contact with me, those blue eyes boring into my own. I could have sworn I saw its lips turn up slightly at the edges, forming a mischievous grin. It lowered its previously extended hind leg to the ground slowly, deliberately. It didn’t have a tail at all. I doubt that it ever did. Then it began to limp towards us, whimpering softly.

How to describe what it sounded like? It’s a little difficult. I’d heard an anecdote once from an online acquaintance who worked with birds regarding an old crow they were taking care of. Crows are excellent mimics of sounds, and will often repeat noises that they frequently hear. Well, evidently, this particular crow had taken to mockingly “cawing” in a human voice. Someone must have been trying to “talk” to the bird by crudely imitating the crow’s own cries, to which the wily corvid had mirrored back their own mimicry, like a language’s native speaker mocking someone with a foreign accent by repeating a particularly egregious mispronunciation.

The “wolfdog” sounded like something copying a human copying a dog, its whimpers were artificial, stilted, almost campy. It sent shivers up my spine immediately, but Jake didn’t seem to notice.

“You’re right, he’s definitely hurt and judging from how he’s reacting to us, I’d certainly wager he’s somebody’s lost pet. I vote we take him back to the rescue and try and contact a domestic animal shelter in the morning, I’m sure we can find a cage that will fit him just for one night,” said Jake, sounding almost enthusiastic. I noticed how quickly the animal had changed from an “it” to a “he”. Humans will start bonding with anything if it seems pitiful. Jake held out a hand for the thing to sniff.

“Jake, don’t-” I started to say, about to warn him that it was equally likely the thing was so seemingly friendly due to rabies, but before the words could leave my lips, the animal was already licking his hand meekly.

“Come on boy,” Jake said in a playful tone, “let’s get you in the van, then we’ll get you some treats when we get back to the rescue.”

Jake led the animal back to the van, talking to it in a goofy sing-song tone of voice as though it were his beloved childhood dog while it made faux-whines and pretended to limp. I couldn’t understand why he couldn’t tell that something was wrong with it. From behind, I could see very clearly there was no sign of docking or anything else that could have resulted in the “wolfdog’s” tail being removed. It was as though it was born without one. There was something else too, something I couldn’t put my finger on, about its legs. It felt like I was missing something obvious, like when a word is at the tip of your tongue but you can’t remember it. The whole thing was frankly making me sick to my stomach.

The drive back to the rescue was uneventful, aside from Jake gushing about how adorable his newfound friend was. It’s not that I’m not a dog person, I have no issues with them at all, I love animals of all sorts. But this thing wasn’t a dog, nor was it a wolf, nor anything in between. I kept catching the reflection of its eyes in the rear view mirror, staring at me through the caged off back of the van. I didn’t like its eyes, piercing blue like those a human being’s. I could have sworn that once, just once, it winked at me.

One might wonder why I didn’t voice my concerns to Jake, but the simple truth is this; what was I supposed to say? It’s not like there was anything concrete I could point to beyond “bad vibes”, and I could hardly tell him to stop the van and kick the animal out onto the side of the road, could I? So, ultimately, I swallowed down my fear and tried very hard to convince myself there was nothing at all the matter.

We reached the wildlife rescue without incident, and Jake opened the back doors to the van, patting at his legs to direct the “wolfdog” to come out. The thing made a pathetic scene, whimpering as though afraid that jumping down the foot or two out of the van’s back would hurt its supposedly wounded leg, though from what I could see there didn’t look to be any injuries whatsoever. Ultimately Jake wound up assisting the thing out of the van, lifting it gently down while it whined and yelped in that terrible, mocking voice.

Jake begrudgingly put a collar and leash around the animal’s neck only at my insistence, complaining that it was obviously tame and that he was sure it would behave itself, but I wouldn’t hear of it. If he wanted to adopt the damn thing that was his own business, he still needed to follow basic safety precautions.

We guided the thing into the kennels, where we nudged it inside the largest one, a cage usually reserved for injured deer. It whined more at this perceived injustice, staring up in over-the-top performative sadness at Jake as he turned the key to lock it inside.

“Poor thing. I’m gonna get him some water and food, you wait here and keep an eye on him,” Jake said, not giving me time to respond before leaving the kennels to acquire the supplies for our “guest”. As soon as Jake left the room, the animal stopped its whining nearly instantly. I think it could tell I wasn’t falling for its act. It just stared at me, and once again I could see that faint, terrible smile on its face.

The “wolfdog” wasn’t the only occupant of the kennels that evening, there was a raccoon, a bobcat, and a goose. All of them seemed terrified of the thing. The bobcat and goose were hissing, and the raccoon’s tail was waving back and forth wildly. I’d always been told I had more empathy for animals than people, and as I stood there, being stared at by this not-wolf, I wondered if maybe that was why I instinctively was repelled by it in the same way the other patients of the wildlife rescue were. It didn’t feel like an animal.

It felt like ages, just standing there, looking at this smiling, mocking, thing shaped in a parody of a canine. In the bright light of the kennel, I could see it much clearer, and the longer I looked, the more queasy I felt.

I won't go over all of the hideous quirks of proportion that made the thing look so uncanny, because frankly most people wouldn't notice. Dogs come in all shapes and sizes, and it would take someone with a particular eye for this sort of thing to understand what I would even be talking about. To this day I still don't understand how Jake couldn't see it for what it truly was, with his education he ought to have been able to notice.

I will mention one thing though, something which especially made my skin crawl. Beneath the fluorescent light I could finally tell what had been bothering me about its legs. Wolves, dogs, and other canines all have digitigrade legs, that is to say that they walk upon their toes. It basically means that their limbs have an extra joint on which to bend, which is generally more useful for quadrupedal motion. In contrast, humans have plantigrade legs; we walk on the soles of our feet.

This animal's legs were plantigrade.

This can happen sometimes in dogs, it is a deformity which is known to occur, but this thing didn't look deformed. It didn't seem to have any trouble walking, despite its act with Jake. It just moved as though it were a human being crawling about on all fours.

It was around the same time as I had this realization that Jake entered the room with the food and water for our "guest", and I excused myself to go sit at the reception desk and try to convince myself everything was fine. It's just a weird dog, there's nothing to worry about, you're probably just tired, your mind is playing tricks on you, I kept thinking to myself, my internal monologue working overtime to wash away my discomfort while I fiddled with the medallion my grandfather made.

The terrible thing is, it was so close to the end of our shift when it happened. The sun was due to start rising in half an hour, and we would have been replaced by the morning crew. We were almost done, we were almost safe.

Jake and I had been finishing up our last remaining tasks before we had to head off for the morning when we heard an awful racket coming from the kennels. It was a terrible feline yowling, mixed with the frantic honking of a goose, followed shortly afterwards by the smashing of glass. Jake immediately began sprinting towards the sound, while I called out for him to wait.

I grabbed some bite proof gloves and a heavy apron, swearing all the while about having to deal with the stupid bobcat right before the end of my shift. While I was putting them on, I heard an awful, strangled scream. I recognized its owner at once. Something had happened to Jake.

My first instinct was to sigh in annoyance. Obviously the idiot got himself bitten, I thought to myself as I stomped my way to the kennels, grumbling all the while.

"I told you to wait you moro-" I started to say as I opened the door.

It was dark in the kennels. The only illumination came from the window, the pale moonlight glinting against the shattered glass of the fluorescent bulb strewn across the blood soaked floor. Silhouetted against the window was a tall figure, facing away from me. It was holding something. I could hear the terrified chatter of a raccoon.

"Jake?" I asked, timidly, as I walked into the room. My foot collided with something lying on the floor. I looked down to see a human body, face down upon the ground, blood dripping from its torn out throat. Laying next to Jake's corpse were the similarly mangled bodies of a bobcat and a goose.

There was a pained screeching followed by a snap of bones, and then a moment of utter stillness. I stared in petrified horror at the thing standing upright in the moonlight, its dog-like head turning to look at me with an awful smile etched unnaturally across its inhuman face. The silence was interrupted with the wet thump of the raccoon's body joining the other corpses on the gore smeared linoleum.

I don't want to think about its voice. Its real voice, not the wretched, terrible mockery of a wolfdog that it made to gain Jake's trust. Its laughter was vicious, mocking, evil. In all my life I've never heard anything sound so deeply cruel.

The thing began to walk towards me, and I tried to back away, but I slipped on the blood, falling in a heap as I started to hyperventilate. It got closer, close enough that the light from the corridor let me see the look of hunger and contempt in its monstrously human eyes. It reached a gore soaked claw towards me, chuckling darkly as it prepared to reduce me to nothing but meat.

But as the thing was just about to touch me, inches away from tearing into my jugular, it let out a surprised yelp of pain. It recoiled from me, eyeing the medallion around my neck with frustration and hatred. My mind flashed back to when my grandfather gave it to me, and what I said to him in response;

"A gunfight, papa, really? I'll probably get more use out of it fighting off werewolves."

The monster huffed and growled before leaping over me and tearing down the hallway in a blur of bloodstained fur. I heard the smashing of wood and glass when it crashed through the front door of the wildlife rescue, letting out a mocking imitation of a wolf's howl as it fled into the waning darkness of the rapidly fading night.

When my coworkers found me in the kennel, paralyzed with fear and covered in Jake's blood, they immediately called the police. Based on all the evidence they found at the scene, coupled with my admittedly somewhat hysterical account of the thing that did it, the put the whole affair down to being the work of a rabid wolfdog. They informed animal control, but of course nobody ever found anything.

I never bothered showing up to work at the wildlife rescue again after that, and I've been working a shitty retail job ever since. The pay is awful, the hours are lousy, and the work is demeaning, but that doesn't matter. All that's important is that the schedule is flexible enough that I never have to keep working after sunset whenever there is a full moon. I spend those nights at home with the door locked and bolted, clutching my grandfather's silver dollar medallion and praying I don't hear that mocking voice pretending to whimper outside the door to my apartment.

[xocontinentaldrift]

monthly report: january 2023

Wowza, I can't believe a month has already flown by. After a rough start of my kiddo getting stomach fly on New Year's Day, I spent most of the month just catching my breath and easing into the new year. It was a good call not to put too much pressure on myself.

Ironically, it was a productive month anyway, with lots of happy-making moments and accomplishments:

Revised about 1/3 of my novel

Took a lot of outdoor open air walks despite the snow and cold

Started to go out for dinner every Friday night with the family

Decluttered a lot of papers and some books

Mastered making falafel in our Instant Pot air fryer

Talked with my best friend on the phone a few times

Spent more time with my parents with my kiddo

Did a little more strength training in the mornings, experimenting with doing pushups everyday (because a few times a week makes it hard to track, it's easier for me just to do them everyday)

Bonded with our new kitty and she seems happy and well-adjusted in our home, and she is so snuggly!

Began getting to bed at a reasonable hour (before midnight is a huge accomplishment for me.)

Participated in some fashion challenges via my favorite fashion forum on Reddit

Read a lot of books

Began planning the little guy's birthday party next week, which is NOT a fun task for me, but I booked the location, put down a deposit, sent out invites, managed the RSVPs. Next up: figuring out food, transport/pickup logistics, ordering the cake, sending out reminders

Bought a nice lounge bed roll from Natural Life that makes my home so much more cheerful, funky and comfy

Paid all my bills!

Trucking along in my Duolingo French course -- I'm determined to finish the Intermediate 1 course by mid-year

However, the month had its difficulties and sticking points:

Some instances of mindless spending

Yelling a few times at my kiddo, especially when I was burned out at the beginning of the month coming off the busy holiday season

Conflict with partner over who does what in terms of house/life shit. The problem is that I feel all the work I do is never seen as the work that it is, it's just written off as "easy" and inconsequential.

Thought it got better at the end, my sleeping patterns were off, and I've begun waking up in the middle of the night. (Thanks, perimenopause!) Gotta figure something out because it really does bite into quality of life.

BORED AT WORK. Can't figure out if the responsibilities, the need for a new direction, or just the drab isolation of working from home in the middle of winter.

Inconsistent exercise when it's sub-zero temps. I mean, part of me thinks I can give myself some slack on this, but it does affect my overall sense of well-being

Having moments of feeling super, super depressed right before my period. It's not even just sad -- it's like my brain just can't feel good in any way, and I feel really despondent and hopeless in a way that doesn't feel right. Sometimes I wonder if I have PMDD. Something to think upon, I guess.

Just that general feeling of being in a hamster wheel, running furiously but with no real movement forward. Spinning my wheels. File it under "existential mid-life malaise."

So that's my roundup of January 2023. Not a bad month, I must say. I'm really looking forward to February 2023's goals and resolutions:

Keep revising my novel! I'm really making a lot of headway at the moment, maybe because I've hit a decent patch of storytelling

Getting ready for my writers group to start up again

Planning my kiddo's birthday party, it's gonna be a banger, lol

An old friend will be in town from London, so I'm looking forward to seeing her

Talking regularly on the phone with my best friend from college

More Friday night dinners as a family

Making myself get dressed in real clothes instead of being in sweats all day -- too easy to do in the winter, for sure!

Focusing my reading on books on relationships, parenting, love and marriage, and also incorporating more fiction

Cleaning out my closet once again and sending a box of clothes to ThredUp

Getting a shoe storage cabinet for my dining room

Getting to bed before midnight most nights -- ideally asleep by 11:30pm, but let's be realistic that this might not always happen

Cleaning out toiletries and makeup bag

Wearing perfume everyday -- I have a lot of scents that I need to use and use up and use out

Making an appointment to meet with a new OB-Gyn -- might delay this till March

Taking walks outside as much as I can

Going out to work at a cafe or some place like that at least once a week

Trying out 2-3 new recipes this month as a challenge. I don't care too much about being the ideal housewife, but for my own sake, I need to try some new recipes

Start re-creating an official website/social media professional presence again...which means paying off Dreamhost, ugh.

Maybe look into estimates for redoing kitchen floor

Start planning outdoor landscaping miniprojects, like planting new boxwoods on my side garden beds

Ok, that's getting a little too ambitious; I'll revise this as needed. Here's to a lovely February full of peace, inspiration, liberation and the divine feminine!

[faenix-fire]

I went and got too much data out together for this but I wanted to add more. I'm going to go in this layer by layer like an onion starting with what's mostly known and talked about on Tumblr which is the attack on the queer community.

The attack on LGBTQIA+ youth is what Mormons see it as attack on purity. Theirs a level of performance that's expected at all times, certain people can get away with failing but there's those on the chopping block who's performance allows them a place to stay, a home, and acceptance.

In Utah, the mormon center there's a high level of mental illness and it goes from children to adults.

Utah is the highest in the following.

Now there's multiple factors behind this and one being the culture. The performance is an emotionally draining one and your not really aware enough to complain about it and if you are no one is going to understand.

Now POC, Queer people, and people who don't practice Mormonism are at a disadvantage. Many of them are more likely to face abuse, be let go from work, and face discrimination without help or resources. The problem is they're left out of the Mormon sphere, which is big, and that leaves them out of recourses. They can't connect to therapists who promote and believe in homophobic and racist ideas supported by the community. There's little anyone can do but cling to each other and that's if they can find one another.

In Mormonism your taught skills you should develop and people you should try to emulate. Standing out too much is a bad things. You don't want to be caught trying to "not be like other girls" you want to fit in and be the best performer.

There are a lot of common teachings of being a community and working together. Often using bees or sheep as a symbol. It's expected that you follow each other you get along and you don't be yourself. That's the key. You can't be yourself so everyone has to live towards an unhappy, unfulfilled, shitty goal. And Mormonism spreads this around the globe.

Adding more the statistics below:

The suicide belt:

Percentage of Mormonism:

The Rocky mountains:

Now higher altitudes can cause an increase in depression and anxiety as well as bad moods in general. The mountains do not help those in this area and adding a high demand religion isn't going to help. Looking at Utah data above there's a very different data for Utah vs it's neighbors. Suicide is the national low but it's the highest form of death for teens.

The pressure put on teenagers is astounding. I was raised in Utah myself it's why I care about this topic. Everyone I knew in school was suffering horribly. In one of my years of highschool the yearbook had three pages dedicated to kids who had died that year and all but one was suicide. They had barely anything there for them in the book, just a picture and names, all all of them were POC, non church members or openly Queer. Non of them had a support system they were outcasts. They didn't act the right way and so they've never been loved when they most needed it.

Those on the top in my teen years we're at best walking ghosts. I never saw them passionate about anything, they just were there and they did anything they were told and that's it. They didn't snort at jokes or act goofy. They were adored by adults for their behavior. Often these kids were pulled away from the group and praised by the opposite sex who were at least old enough to be their parent. They were told they were perfect marriage material. Their skills they worked on were encouraged and pushed as a performance for them to put in for these adults. "Show us how good you can sing, cook, wood work, knit, babysit, fix a car" It was grooming and in a way that was celebrated and isolating. Those kids, I believe, we're whisked away into dangerous and unsafe situations often almost weekly, even daily.

This all is not new either. It's always been the case or Mormonism. Joseph Smith, the founder, married a 14 year old girl, and although it was legal, the non members in the area of course didn't like it. It was still seen as archaic and disgusting even then.

And Mormonism had a lot of wars during it's founding because it kept growing and it's beliefs and cult like attitude was scaring people. They were getting multiple wives and they were changing the laws and culture. The church was closed off and holding secret ceremonies that people couldn't learn about and that looked dangerous. The leader had even been known to be convicted of fraud multiple times before this all started.

And it didn't get better. Joseph Smith prophesied of the governor dying a horrible death and not to long later he was shot in the neck and head. The governor survived surprisingly when he wasn't predicted to live by his doctor. One of Joseph's people had been conveniently in town and the Mormons had assumed him dead before they'd heard he survived or even was hurt at all. There wasn't enough proof to convict but the action led to his death because of a mob.

This only pushed Mormonism forward because Brigham Young took over and he pushed people to move west. He was also probably the worst fucking prophet I wouldn't know where to start everything about him is a nightmare and some far right people now days call him a "Chad" rather then "insane nut case monster" like they should.

If you live in this area then you may have been in the Mormon fantasy state if things went well. Also this amount on land of you can tell us huge. Utah from top to bottom can take five to six hours by car. This picture has basically all of Utah, Nevada, a majority of Arizona, the entire border where Nevada and California, most of the bottom of California, and little parts of Wyoming, Colorado, New Mexico, Idaho, and Oregon.

This brings me to the term Deseret, a word still used today. The Mormon owned newspaper is called Deseret News. Many of the affects of Mormonism still affects these areas and their foundings.

Mormonism shaped the west, literally.

A good portion of the FBI and CIA is Mormon. Also a large percentage of Mormons serve in the military. My cousin severed to get away from my family and find a group that could protect him from Mormons which was the government.

As much of the founding is retold often and can seem boring it all explains where Mormonism sits now. The stuff less known is deeper down.

There's also the weird stuff people like to talk about.

Also a lot schizophrenics are diagnosed in Utah (me) and surounding areas and there's a high correlation with them being Mormon. Schizophrenia can come from abuse and often in my experience it seems to be from people around you trying to disillusion you from reality. A religion full of illusions you can't question no matter what the followers do to you is a great testing group for mental illness. My aunt who was diagnosed never really got help. She ran away from home off to silicone valley to chase her dreams. She ended up in Scientology and in debt. She ran away from there too off to the mountains to seclude herself. She believed that the government was a Christian state and it was going to come for her. She ended up dying because she believed her food and water was poisoned. Mormons follow when you leave and they did follow her, not the scientologists. If they hadn't she wouldn't have been as paranoid and she wouldn't have ran off to the woods. Mormons stalking where you move helped kill her and I can't just forget that.

Salt Lake has underground secret tunnels. Of course it's less terrifying then it sounds but the high church members use them as a way to travel around the city. They actually have more protection then the president of the United States. I believe it was George Bush that went down in the tunnels when he visited Utah. They also have secret mountains full of documents. Sure all that sounds so bizarre and mysterious but there's worse secrets hidden in Utah.

Mormons were a huge factor in indigenous kids being rehomed and schooled. Knowing and seeing with my own eyes the effects of what they did, it's just awful. I've met survivors, I've actually set foot at one of the school grounds, it wasn't well kept at that point. It's mostly gone now but that school had once been a war hospital for WWII, it got repurposed for the students. We know kids have gone missing at these schools in Canada we know it by what has been found and the knowledge of lost kids. It wasn't exactly the same for the schools in Utah but there's kids who died from suicide and poisoning, ones with sexual abuse from the people they stayed with, as well as physical abuse, and extreme racism from the communities.

The church will not acknowledge when they did, the groups affected continue to meet together for community get togethers and they're lovely to talk to. Much of the important parts of the school that could be salvaged after it was left abandoned has been put in safe displays. There's art and photos and people have shared memories of the time. Still even though it was "better" then what many other schools are the time we're dealing with it's still a form of cultural genocide, many haven't rekindled their connection to their culture and that's cut a history away that can't come back.

This isn't a unique story to Utah with Mormonism either, they've conducted their interactions with the air of nice intentions across the globe. There's been blood and cultural death in the ground that Mormons tread from the very begging and it still remains.

This is why I try to tell people that Mormonism is America as a religion. It's promotes everything the states have always tried to be and it still spreads the message of conversion.

This stuff hasn't ended it has always continued and is still continuing. Many island cultures have fallen into a horrible place because of Mormon missionaries. The Polynesian cultural centre as mentioned above in a previous post is in possession of the Mormon church. They have control of what you see in the cultural centers and they get to dictate their culture for others to believe. They hold stakes in Hawai'i and what is taught to people. It's cultural genocide and they don't only do it to Hawai'i. American Samoa, and Samoa are both places that are affected. Their tattoos were shamed by the Mormons that colonized and proselytized.

Mormons loves to consume culture, are even encouraged too, and do so without actually respecting it. They can follow all the rules, even learn the language, but none of it is for anything other then conversion. I've heard and seen young men in Utah use racial slurs directed at staff in Ethiopian restaurants while speaking the language themselves. It's not about love for the people, it's about wanting to consume and dilute everything into Mormonism. It's something that comes second to the gospel, and nothing, not even heritage comes before Mormonism. That's not truly how it is though because Mormon culture is allowed to mix with the religion and much of it is American and European. It it just not allowed for groups that are not already following the white cultural beliefs. They're shunning foods people eat or religious practices that are seen as a sin.

This is what leads into my last big point. Mormonism is fascistic. Mormonism has been mentioned to have members, multiple, try to baptize Hitler. This is something you might hear and it talked about more openly then most things. This is knowledge that is on the outer layer of the Mormonism onion but it's also at the center. In WWII Mormons were not persecuted in Germany when Jehovah witnesses and Jews were. Mormons in Utah even liked Hitler and he had a following in Mormon spaces, people praised him for not drinking alcohol and eating healthy.

The church had this all pointed out pretty recently so they brought up a young boy, the youngest to ever ordered to be put to death by Hitler himself. He was Mormon and he was Jewish. The church, after the information above broken news, used this boy to promote themselves as not in line with Nazis. The problem with the story is the church had had him excommunicated, that means he was kicked out. Now, usually the prophet does that but this one had been unlawful, the members in Germany had removed him because he was Jewish. He got reinstated far to late and only to look better during the war. He died after standing up against the government and none of the members stood with him and even condemned him as well. The church at the time had made no stance on the matter of on the war itself of his death. Only after they were under fire recently did they dig up his name for PR. They'd never mentioned him as a hero or brave, nothing, not till they were mentioned in a specific book.

One of the other layers of Mormonism is that it's runs like a business. Everything is run as squeaky clean as you can get it while having underqualified people work in it. Each member is like a worker promoting their brand with a smile. Each member creates their own little members and converts others. The Mormon Corridor, also called Morridor by people here, is often perfect places for mlm's and pyramid schemes. There are many terfs, mlm mom's, vaccine disbelievers, and the hostile vegans and all in high numbers. It's a perfect place to get people who are in a community that already functions like these groups. You share and pass along messages of recruitment, you drop different lifestyles and adopt new ones, you persecute and play victim and so on.

This all leads Mormons to be easy recruiters because they listen and believe in group mentality. They've been taught not to think for themselves.

There a whole bunch of things the church gets money from business wise and their school (BYU) is a business school primarily. They own large swaths of land, enough parts that they have sway in things you can't even imagine.

Everything they touch brings them money, their followers bring them money, you who buys or interacts with anything Mormon or distantly Mormon gives them money. They sit on piles of cash and assets that go far beyond what a church needs. If you spending and money that touched a Mormon property, asset, member, or holding all trickles up to the church and they hold on to most of it.

Below are just some the things they get money from.

The church just like it's fancy temples and sweet smiley people, all of it is the surface. It holds beliefs that haven't changed as much as it seems.

Currently there's a group called DezNat, and as much as pulling a Deez Nuts joke on them is fun this problem is very serious. They're a alt right group that want Utah to be it's own country and stand out as Deseret as Brigham Young wanted. They had members in the kiwi farms, the proud boys, the January 6 attack. Last year a group tried to attend a pride parade in Idaho and many were Mormon and likely frequent these groups.

In the Ex Mormon spaces in including ones for chatting like discord, there are these people the hunt, watch, and take screenshots. Pretty much all my ex Mormon friends that are Queer or POC have been harassed for stating problems with the church online even in places they think are safe. They've been doxed for tweets and their accounts on social media you can find is searches next to DezNat. These groups on the alt right work together and help each other. There have been times we've sat and read their private conversations from the inside and It's all about wanted to cull people like cattle and take of the Us.

It also doesn't help how many death threats they send. I don't know if my favorite photo threat to receive is the Bowie knife that they love because Brigham Young cut up people who left the church or looking down the barrel of their favorite gun in a selfie with their head covered. (There's also here in Tumblr so it'll be interesting if I get any harassment here.)

The church hasn't made much of a statement about DezNat's even though they've been in the news, even getting on the today show in New York. They often make a fool of themselves for news but they're still a threat to people. They are working with groups around the globe and getting my friends attacked all while they're adult men with families. These guys smile at church and seem like that sweet guy who gives out candy in church lessons, they're seen to Mormons as police officers the protect, businessman, accountants ect. Mormons don't know and I don't think they'd know how to respond if they knew. Most Mormon women would divorce their husband if he was found looking at porn but not if he was a DezNat, that's a problem.

Mormonism hides it's biggest issues where only those hurting and attacked reside, it's why they are told not to listen to us. We Ex-Mormons are less Intresting to people outside then members trying to explain their beliefs or the weird secret mysteries. Mormonism is often seen as funny or a gag when it's quietly smothering like binds that are reshaping your body as your grow.

Not enough people know the truth only what's fun to tell as a story. It shouldn't be that way, people should know the truth.

Here's some resources on some of the information I said, most just people's thoughts and news. Not all of it is made by people against the church or groups not aligned with them but they bring up some of the data and screenshots I used. (None are if the Utah mental health charts because it's not directly related to the church more a symptom. You can look up the charts if you want)

Some about racism and colonization (they are all important but 7-10 is more indepth about the residential school I mentioned above):

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

Some of the LGBTQ problems and the sexual purity culture at BYU(Mormon collage with three locations):

1 2 3 4 5

Mormonism being a business and group think (including FBI stuff):

1 2 3 4 5

Mormonism and Nazis (the third is a great YouTube channel on a lot of Mormon topics):

1 2 3 4 5

Not enough people know the Mormons believe Native Americans are Jewish people who turned away from God and got cursed by having their skin darkened, or that Mormons literally have Manifest Destiny right there in the text, no extrapolation. I’m not Native at all, but frankly, it’s one of the most disgusting things of that faith that caused me to utterly reject it. It is a vile religion that is white supremacist to its very core.

[queenofthursday6599-blog]

[IDK if anyone actually wanted my bad writing, but here’s some of my bad writing. Also yes, the tone of this is very different from the general tone of the AU when I described it. That’s because Ryoba’s past with her family, is supposed to feel dramatically different to her eventual time at Akademi High, and the life she builds there among her friends.]

Ryoba knew that the world her mother had created for herself was small.

They lived deep in the Hokkaido countryside, even though Ryoba knew from the pictures that both of her parents had once lived in a bustling city.

The town they lived in was absolutely tiny. Her school year totaled only 100 students, and was the only high school in her entire town. Her little sister, Kizu, was still in middle school, and her school was even tinier than Ryoba’s was due to there being two middle schools in town.

Her family lived in a tiny traditional house, far away from the main part of town. Even out past the rice paddies, far into the woods. She and Kizu had to ride a bus early in the morning in order to get close enough to walk to school. The town itself was quiet, hardly anything interesting at all happened there.

People still talk about her parents moving into town however. Even though Ryoba and Kizu were born here, their family was still regarded as new. Everyone in town knew the Aishi family. How could they not?

Two young lovers run off to a tiny rural town, to escape their disapproving parents, because the young groom was sickly. Who doesn’t know the story?

Ryoba had grown up hearing how terribly romantic it was. For her parents to abandon everything they knew in order to be together. For her mother to choose her chronically ill father over any other man. As a little girl Ryoba hadn’t had any idea what they were talking about.

Her mother was a yuki onna when outsiders weren’t present. Vicious and cold as she was beautiful and intelligent. As ready to kill to conceal what she was, as she was to placate a person’s doubts of her character at any given moment. Beautiful and deadly as a winter storm, that is what her mother was.

Her father was a ghost. Haunting the house for as long as Ryoba could remember. Vengeful and howling or simply vacant, it made little difference. Ryoba assumed he’d been murdered in all the ways that matter before he’d ever reached town. Whoever the man had been before he’d been consumed by Mother Ryoba had never met him.

Her baby sister was something else. A doll brought to life. Little Kizu had never shown genuine emotion for as long as Ryoba could remember, and she could distantly remember Kizu being brought home from the hospital as an infant. Oh Mother could teach and tutor Kizu to fake it well enough to convince Outsiders, but Ryoba knew all too well that it was an act. Kizu never bothered to put up a front while at home after all.

Ryoba had wanted out since she knew that there was another way to live. Out of this town. This family. This life. It’s all she’d wanted ever since she was a little girl going to elementary school. After her first slumber party at a friend's house. When she discovered that other people’s families didn’t stop being people when they were no longer in public. Not the way Ryoba’s did.

When it came time for high school entrance exams Ryoba had taken the test for Akademi High. A school in another part of the country from the tiny town, and isolated house she’d grown up in. Along with the test for the high school in her hometown. Everyone needed a back up after all, and if she couldn’t get into Akademi High School, she’d just have to wait until University to make her break from the family.

When she didn’t make the cut Ryoba wrote off on going to Akademi as a bust, and resigned herself to waiting until college to get away from her family. It was only 3 more years after all. She’d already been waiting for 8.

Getting a letter from the Akademi High School Board close to the end of her first year of high school, telling her that a spot had opened up that was free for her to take was a surprise.

She’d known from her rejection letter that she’d been on the short list, and had just barely been beaten out by someone else. And she knew that part of her rejection letter said that the administrators would eagerly await her test results next year if she wished to try and transfer in. That if there was an available spot among their students, they’d gladly accept her.

But she hadn’t expected to be contacted two months before her first year of high school would end, and be told that a spot had unexpectedly opened up. That if she wanted to come take a placement test to see where she was, it was hers.

A chance like this wasn’t something Ryoba could let just slip through her fingers. Not when it was being offered to her more or less on a silver platter.

So she went to Mother’s parlor and made her case the best she could. Mother’s eyes were a lighter brown color, and could resemble polished copper in the right light. They were as fear inducing as they were beautiful. The way they could change from warm and inviting, to so sharp and metallic that Ryoba occasionally feared her mother would cut her with her gaze alone. The ease of that transformation was more frightening than the cold searching look itself.

Ryoba wasn’t quite sure how she’d managed to convince her mother, but she had. In two days Ryoba would be taking a series of buses and trains in order to reach Buzura town (where Akademi High School is located), where she would need to find permanent housing if she managed to pass the placement test. Along with getting some kind of after school job in order to help pay for the bills on the apartment.

She was terribly excited, something she was careful to not reveal to Mother.

She told Kizu that she’d be transferring to Akademi High School herself, Kizu had the same flat and uncaring response as always, but Ryoba had told her knowing Kizu couldn’t care.

She didn’t bother to tell her father. He’d stopped recognizing her a couple years back and started mistaking her for her mother more frequently the older she got. Not to mention that she knew Mother would want to tell Father the news herself.

Ryoba had told the classmates she was closest to the good news, along with her current school’s staff, herself. Soon enough the news had spread throughout their entire tiny village.

Didn’t you hear? The oldest Aishi girl. Little Ryoba. She’s transferring to one of the top high schools in the entire country. A spot opened up for her, she’s leaving before the week is over. Someone raised in our little town, going to Akademi High School, can you believe it?

The adulation of raising such an intelligent child rained down upon Mother’s head, and she accepted the praise with humble grace. As she always did.

Ryoba herself wasn’t too sure what to think. She’d been waiting for an opportunity like this since she was in elementary school. A chance to finally have a normal life. One where she didn’t have to hide how things were at home while in public, and hide who she really was at home from her highly abnormal family.

The thing is… Ryoba isn’t too sure she knows what “normal” is, but here’s hoping she finds it.  Nothing too crazy could possibly be happening at such a prestigious school like Akademi High School after all. Nothing the likes of which staying home implies.

Nothing close to the wild eyes of Father during an escape attempt, or the vicious ease of which Mother could threaten anything and anyone without a single crack in her loving expression. Nothing like the bodies of Challengers that Mother had always teasingly hinted at getting rid of with a careless little grin.

Nothing like her family’s expectation of Blood in Ryoba’s future.

[the-empress-7]

I think this whole thing is deeper than Harry being a petulant spoiled man-toddler. I think it demonstrates that Harry still has unresolved issues surrounding his mother's death and the circumstances of how she died, and Meghan exploits that because of the power and attention it gives her.

We know that he was in therapy and was doing well in the mid-2010s given the kinds of remarks both he and William made. But all that progress seemed to disappear when Meghan came along, and we know that Meghan exploits those issues, or fears perhaps, to get what she wants from Harry. She did it in 2016 with the Toronto "break-in" and since then, every few months is another security issue with either paparazzi harassment or some kind of privacy invasion, from the Markle letters to drones to pap walks to prying neighbors. Some of these are legitimate, don't get me wrong (like drones taking pictures of their homes). But some of these issues are completely self-inflicted and made up (like issuing rules for conduct to their neighbors in Windsor). Those are the ones that reek of manipulation and isolation. So she exploits Harry's fears and issues over Diana's death by turning all these "scares" into public scandals.

So on the one hand I feel sorry for Harry. He's clearly in the midst of a mental health crisis, one manifesting in the obsession of security and safety that are part of the ripple effect from his mother's traumatic death (which, by the way, is the real generational pain, not bad parenting).

But on the other hand, this makes me roll my eyes. Because read the room, Harry and Meghan: the world is suffering serious endemic problems (food shortages, debt crises, education and childcare lapses, unemployment, affordable housing shortages, climate change, insurrection, a global pandemic, etc.) and you want us to care that people are taking your pictures without your permission?

Thank you for this anon. I find it really hard to sympathize with a man who has had every resource in the world available to him to help with any mental health issues. He's never had to worry about time off from work, or paying for insurance, or having access to the best doctors in the world. You can't help someone who doesn't want to be helped.

[millers-planet]

The Vice and the Virtue - Part One

Pairing: Helmut Zemo x GN!Reader (later established as F following more parts)

A/N: i appreciate you guys so much for how quickly you blew up the sneak peak i did. it really motivated me to writing this

POV: Reader

Warnings: Fluff. Use of "Y/N". Angst?

Words: 2.3k

Description: How does one live a life of virtue when past vices begin arising after a successful jailbreak with untied ends?

It was terrifying as I watched my home be stripped of everything it knew, it was as if with every furniture upturned or removed, a piece of me was taken with it. It was the couch, the tables, the side-tables, the food from the fridge, everything. By this point, it wasn't our home anymore, it was the home. Everything was out of my control, I had no say in what the strangers robbed me of for their 'investigation'.

I was questioned for days about what he did, about why he did it, and if I was an accomplice. Fingers were pointed at me without any real reason behind them. I didn't even know what they were talking about, he simply told me it was a business trip or some family thing-- I don't remember but I wish I did. If I had, I might've been able to save myself the hassle of convincing everyone else that.

Zemo always wanted and always was isolated and by himself. While he had friends, or contacts as he called it, he preferred to be lonesome. By lonesome, that means either in a crowded place with no one with him, or at the house with me. It was something odd to get used to, but I never wanted to trade a day with him for a day with some people who call me their friend, only to turn around and talk bad on me.

Now, I'd trade all my days for just one more with him.

With the sun having just set and the aroma of freshly brewed tea filling the air, it became a good day. Until I saw on the news of a jailbreak that just occurred, several prisoners being injured and one-- a highly dangerous prisoner (as the news described it)--escaping. I saw that it was in Germany and I believed for just a second that it could've been him.

I was fortunate enough just to keep the home, after a few months of it being held hostage from me. With every night I slept here, the more desolate I began to feel, for I can't dare try and show my face to the world. I'm too afraid people will talk and say that I'm "the one who dated the man who destroyed the Avengers". Maybe I'm just being paranoid, but something doesn't feel right if I go out without him or if I just go out in general. It feels as if I've been under house arrest or exiled from the public for years.

It was another simple night, a warm one just cool enough to keep the windows open. I love hearing the sounds of the crickets outside the large bedroom windows accompanied by the occasional whispering the leaves made when wind made them rustle. The moonlight gazed perfectly onto the door, illuminating a path outward if I had to get up at some point; which I usually did because sleeping soundly was no longer an option. Though, I was almost asleep until the large hum of the garage being opened startled me.

Quickly, I turned on the bedroom lights and walked into the large, open main room that had stairs leading to the garage. I flicked on the lights and saw the shadow of a figure grow as it climbed to the top, the breath staying stagnant in my lungs. Should I grab a weapon? Should I find an escape route? All of these life-determining questions crossed my mind until I could comprehend who really was climbing the steps.

His eyes scanned the room, as if he was a child lost in the store looking for their parent, until his eyes finally met mine. All of his concerned features dropped into something softer, something kinder, something I never saw from him before. “Wha- Why are you here?” The ends of my mouth rose into the biggest smile I could possible create, without even realizing it.

“Didn’t I tell you I’d be back?” His strides were wide and swift as he made his way to me, cupping my face into his gentle hands and pressed a kiss to my lips. A kiss I have never felt before, it had a different feeling behind it, a different motive…

…He missed me.

I placed my hand over the one that laid carefully on my face, taking in every bit of him. I forgot how small wrinkles came down from the corners of his eyes, or how his cheeks curved in slightly. I forgot how when his features softened and when he gazed into me, my legs felt weak and butterflies filled my stomach. I forgot how much he loved me.

He pressed the smallest kiss to my forehead and looked back down to me. "I have some people for you to meet. We have guests." I didn't know what he meant until two large men came up the same steps. The small bubble of comfort and renewal was broken when Zemo's attention drifted from me and onto them. Despite those few moments being a few measly seconds, it felt longer than the years past.

The two men grew tense and one of them shouted, "Zemo who the hell is this?" Almost instinctively, as the two strangers approached me, he placed his arm in front of me. "So you're telling me not only are you rich, but you had a girl waiting for you the whole time?"

"You could say that, but I never asked her to wait or stay." He looked to me and the corners of his mouth rose ever-so-slightly. "Y/N, this is Sam Wilson and James Barnes, or Bucky." The metal-armed man raised his flesh hand when his name was called, almost like taking attendance.

I passed out cups of tea and coffee for the three men and sat down on the couch next to Zemo, trying to comprehend what the three of them were telling me. "Then after we realized that neither Sam or I really knew how to handle or hunt the super soldier serum, we decided to contact the one guy who does."

I looked at them clueless for a second, "but didn't Zemo frame you for assassinating a king? And cause the Avengers to break up?" Zemo looked at me and nodded, with a look that essentially said 'really? you had to bring that up?'

"Yes, yes the man did." The other man, Sam, was now talking. "After that, Tin Man over here decided to break Zemo out of jail, which I had no part in. Frankly, I still don't see why we need him." Bucky just stared at Sam from the metal remark. They looked like they were good friends but argued like a couple with marital problems.

The three of them went back and forth about what to do next, throwing out different names and places. I pulled my knees up to my chest and placed my drink down on the chestnut side-table next to me, remembering the way policemen ripped open the table and threw it around, the scuffs on the sides to prove it. The tugs they made on the drawers tugged on me as-well, making me lean my head against Zemo's shoulder. After all this time, he still kept his muscles, but to be fair he also had a lot of time on his hands the past few years.

Suddenly, a yawn escaped my mouth and I tried to stifle it. His attention quickly shifted to me and put the conversation at a pause. "If you would like, we can go to bed," the words made my heart simply explode. It was a simple action that I didn't even notice I missed so much, it had been so long that the idea of sleeping with someone else feels so foreign. Although, it's a humbly welcomed foreign experience.

I nodded quickly and stood up, realizing I should probably be a good host and give the two guests a place to sleep. "If you guys want to follow me, I can show you to your rooms." I led them down the hallway, trying to keep my feet of the floor as much as I could because it felt like ice. I don't remember the last time I was down here, I didn't really have a reason to. Opening two doors, I turned to face them, "here are your rooms. Bathroom is first on the left." Bucky smiled and nodded quietly.

Sam, on the other hand, went and said, "so is there a breakfast in bed option or will we have to go out there to a chef?" Bucky rammed his metal elbow into Sam's stomach and glared at him.

"Thank you, Y/N. And please ignore Birdy over here."

As I began to walk away from them I heard a quiet exchange of cursing. Looking back, the two were pushing each other and fighting to get towards the bathroom. Bucky eventually pushed Sam against the opposite wall, then ran into the bathroom, with a subtle click of the lock. Sam locked eyes with me, nodded his head down and shuffled into his room like a dog with his tail between his legs.

"Those two are quite the duo," I murmured softly as I pushed open the bedroom door. I fully expected to see Zemo passed out from his endeavor from earlier, but it was a welcomed surprise when I saw him and the same look of bliss spread on his face as he sat on the end of the bed, having just changed into a simple t-shirt and sweatpants. Those same quick strides closed the gap between us, but this time he was softer and slower, as if he wanted to make up for lost time.

Starting at the bottom of my earlobe, his fingers traced my jaw, his eyes following them and scanning each and every one of my features. The way he stared and touched me reflected how touch-starved he really was all this time, turns out we were in the same boat but different countries. His gentle hand flowed from my ear, along my jaw, and when it reached my chin, he cusped my cheek. I leaned in nearly automatically into the touch, finally making eye contact when he looked at me.

With a small movement, he pressed a loving kiss to my forehead. "I never thought I'd be able to see you again. Or do that. Or do this," his other hand reached my cheek and brought me in for a kiss on my lips that was full of longing. "Or do this," he nudged my thighs and I jumped into his arms, now truly aware of what I was missing these past few years. Zemo set me down in the bed and got in next to me. "Or do this," he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me in gently, holding me as tightly as he could without suffocating me.

Laying on his chest, I took in everything and couldn't imagine how I went so long without him. It felt like night and day. For so long I was living in the dark, completely isolated from the outside world and anything that could possibly hurt me anymore. Once he returned, he turned on the lights, he brought me back into the sunlight. I know he just got home but it feels like everything is back where it's supposed to be, like nothing ever changed. Somehow, with his return, the bed also feels softer.

"Why did you wait?" His sudden question caught me off guard. "I mean, I cannot say how excited I was to see you--but why didn't you move on?" I looked up and saw a confused expression, with his eyebrows furrowed together and lips pressed.

I didn't know how to answer him, how do I express everything I've felt these past years? How do I accurately tell him that after seeing my home destroyed and ransacked, the only thing I could think or do was to picture rebuilding it?

"When you were arrested, men came and took everything. They destroyed the house and didn't leave a single thing unturned. It was months before I could step back into the house and I think almost two years before I could begin the process of restoring it." I could feel his breathing slow down and become deeper, reminding me to pull myself together. "When I could finally put the pieces of the home back together, it didn't feel the same, because you weren't there. I wanted to try and go out but it wasn't right to go into the open world without you.

So, I waited. After watching strangers destroy the things I loved, and the things I had so many memories of, I could only think to fix it all and rebuild it all. But, I couldn't do that without you. I needed you. I need you."

With one movement, he changed our positioning so his face was now over mine, leaning over me. "What did I do to deserve you, meine geliebte," he spoke softly and pressed one final kiss to me and whispered with a smile, "shall we go to sleep now?" I nodded slowly and watched him get up to turn off the lights.

When we were sleeping, or when he was sleeping, all I could think to be was wide awake. Last time, he left suddenly during the day and promised to come home, I didn't know that previous night that he'd be disappearing from me. So, while he was in bed with his arm draped around my waist, holding me close and occasionally moving his arm to pull me closer, I was remembering every single thing.

I savored the way the sheets felt hotter than usual with him being home. I savored the way his breath against the back of my neck made me ticklish. I savored the way he moved his thumb in circles against my skin every few minutes, even when he was asleep. I made sure to remember how his heavy arms made it more difficult to breath. I couldn't bare to forget any of these things, so when he leaves again, I'll remember.

But right now, he's home.

He's back at our home.

part two

get tagged - masterlist

tags: @blondekel77 @mysticdeerpolice @dexthtoyounglings @anthrogothic @darlinloves @hollmarch

[sflow-er]

I can definitely get on board with most of these! I also have some additions to offer and explanations for/alternatives to the ones I don't fully agree with (under the cut).

[Some of this is stuff I've already said before in other posts but I think it bears repeating in this context.]

- I'm sure August didn't see Erik and Wille all the time growing up, because as Blue pointed out, he does seem to have a rose-tinted view of royal life. However, my personal hc is that it was just because Årnäs was several hours away and both sets of parents had a lot of other engagements. Also, we don't know when Carl Johan's addiction and the breakdown of his and Louise's marriage began, but I suspect it was at least a few years in the making. They may not have made a lot of family trips to the relatives in that time period (Kristina did say they weren't close anymore since the addiction took hold of him).

- Random addition: I've always hc'd that it was Erik who sparked August's interest in rowing. As per August's comment to Wille in s1ep2 ("I see you haven't forgotten everything"), all three of them probably rowed together in their childhood. My hc is that there were sculls at the royal family's summer residence on Öland (Solliden palace). Rowing them was mostly Erik's thing, but both August and Wille wanted to imitate him. Being older than Wille, August was better or at least stronger than him. So when the Horn family came to stay in Solliden for a while, August was all about rowing with Erik and saw it as their thing that little Wille was just trying to elbow in on.

- Fully agree that August was the kind of child who "got along better" with grownups than the other children in his local area. I don't think he was bullied, but he probably felt very different from them and preemptively isolated himself from them. To add to everything Blue said above, I'd say he was probably quite eager to act mature and express interest in running Årnäs and his role as Carl Johan's heir (as it's clear August idolised his father and wanted to make him proud).

- Maternal backstory: All we really know about Louise's background from the show is that she doesn't have a lot of money of her own (can't pay August's outstanding dorm fees). She does seem very much at home with the elite, though. I've hc'd her as being born into an upper-class (possibly even minor noble) family in decline and possibly living beyond their means, but the business/diplomats idea works too.

- I fully accept the hc of travel as Louise's mechanism of escaping stressful situations! If she also did this a lot when things were bad with Carl Johan, it also ties in with August's perception of her as flighty, his attempts to woo Felice through expensive getaways in S1, and my next point about Carl Johan and Louise's marriage.

- Paternal backstory: I don't subscribe to the Carl Johan/Kristina romance theory myself. Mainly because my personal hc is that Carl Johan used to be very much in love (or at lest deeply infatuated) with Louise, and that's why he grew so bitter when things went wrong between them. Then he also poisoned August's mind against her, as well as romance and women in general. The August we meet in S1 is very focused on just buying Felice's love with material things, doesn't even want any emotional intimacy with her, and is insanely paranoid about her abandoning and making a fool of him. He also expresses appallingly misogynistic and archaic views, both aloud and through his actions. Love only enters into the picture when Sara pursues him at his lowest point (i.e. purely because she likes him), offers him emotional support, and stands by him despite knowing what he did to her own brother, proving that she "deserves" his love.

- Fully agree that Louise sent August to Hillerska because he kept lashing out after Carl Johan's death and took all his anger and grief out on her. It's a perfectly understandable solution in itself, he must've been impossible. Where I think she messed up was just leaving him there. Once the acute conflict between them had been resolved, she should have fought harder to make sure he got some help processing his grief, anger, and the responsibilities piled on him upon Carl Johan's death. And learned some healthy coping mechanisms, because hoo boy are his ways of dealing with stress and adversity unhealthy.

- Completely agree about Erik taking August in and August wanting to be useful to Erik. Disagree about him ever being an Alexander-level lackey. August is a (likely titled) nobleman, while Alexander is an upstart. Children of the nobility are at the very top of the student hierarchy in the real boarding schools, so I very much doubt August would have agreed to be quite as much of an errand boy as Alexander. Or indeed that Erik and the Society would've wanted him to be when they surely had some first-year upstarts to torment as well. But I do think he saw Hillerska as his new home and found a sense of purpose in all the tasks he took on there!

- Speaking of the Society, they must have been a sort of found family for August. Not just because of Erik, but also because after all that time alone in Årnäs, August finally fit into a group of peers. The rowing team was probably important too, but the other noble heirs at the Society would get him and share his load by default (not that they would ever actually talk about feelings because real men don't do that). This is a major reason why August takes it so heavily in S1 when Wille humiliates him in front of the Society and reveals that he can't be one of them anymore. It is also about the fact that having to sell up is considered an enormous shame among the aristocracy, and the fact that August has largely built his sense of self-worth on being the rich and powerful August Horn af Årnäs, son of Carl Johan Horn af Årnäs, part of the royal family. But the Society being his brothers, whom Wille is taking away (to save Simon of all people, more on that below), is just as significant.

- Agree about August's initiation. The hazing that really goes on at these schools is way worse than what we see with Wille in the show, but most of the kids there think it's a good way to build unity and become part of the group. As do their parents, by the way.

- Could not possibly agree more about August not betraying Erik like a moustache-twirling villain - nothing to add to that.

- I do, however, want to elaborate on why it also applies to Wilhelm as Blue wrote above. August's betrayal in S1 is indeed rooted in multiple perceived and even some real trusts being broken, usually in favour of Simon. Wille had already rejected August's mentorship several times by pursuing a friendship with Simon (an outsider in every way!) instead of August and his peers at Hillerska, but it hit even harder after Erik's death. Erik meant the world to both Wille and August, and for August, losing him likely brought up some unprocessed grief over Carl Johan too. Erik was his main support through that, after all, and now August didn't even have anyone to talk to about Erik's loss (he had fallen out with Louise, he and Felice had no emotional intimacy, and he clearly doesn't talk to Nils and Vincent about anything deep). So, it must've meant a lot to him when he and Wille had that tentative bonding moment outside the Palace. I believe August genuinely saw it as the start of a new, reverse iteration of his friendship with Erik. Even when August found Wille with Simon again, that very same night, he didn't react immediately. He tried to figure out what it all meant first, asking Wille if he blacked out (= Simon was just a drunken mistake) and asking Vincent if Wille would be a good king. When the opportunity presented itself, he decided that getting rid of Simon would solve everything, from the drug mess to bringing Wille back into the fold. Only, Wille didn't want that, and when he stopped August in what to August felt like the most hurtful way possible (taking away everything August had, from his status and self-worth, to his brothers and home at Hillerska, to the chance of a potentially healing friendship between the two of them), the final bond of trust was broken. [Just to be clear: The above does not mean I condone or agree with August's absolutely appalling retaliation!]

- I 100% believe Erik had secrets, and if any of them went back to his time at Hillerska, August would have known and kept them.

- Erik teaching August how to dress is a sweet hc and I fully endorse it!

Phew, this got long... Thank you for the incredibly thought-provoking OP!

Unsolicited August backstory headcanons (plus a bonus tangent about Blue’s undergraduate initiation)

Ahahaha well, I left my work laptop at work by accident. I guess that’s my subconscious is telling me to take a break and post the August headcanons I’ve been drafting on the bus each morning so…

There are a few posts floating around my dash right now that ask questions about what August would have done in certain hypothetical situations. The discussion has all been worthwhile to watch, but I’ve refrained from jumping in as of yet, in part because work has been busy and in part because of personal headcanon reasons. The thing with personal headcanons is that they just kind of live in my head and influence the way I write fic. They’re not really the kind of thing I can prove or argue for, they’re just… vibes? But vibes are still worth talking about in one’s fandom spaces so I may as well ramble.

One thing I believe as someone who spends too much time writing from this garbage boy’s POV is that August did not show up to his first year of Hillerska as exactly the person we see onscreen in 1.1. He was a full two years younger, which is significant for a teenager, and he would have been more recently impacted by the loss of his father. Moreover he would have been entering as a first year and would not have been immediately afforded all the at-school privileges the third year boys enjoy. Now, this does not mean he was a morally perfect angel—far from it, given that being landed gentry with generational wealth can still do a number on one’s psyche. However, if I assume that August came to Hillerska as the very same Full Titled Asswipe he is as a third year, I don’t get to explore systems of privilege and how they radicalize young men into toxic and harmful behavior. Which is something I’m interested in as a writer, both in my fanfic and my original fiction.

With that in mind, here are some of my personal headcanons for August’s pre-Hillerska and pre-season 1 life, with some Horn family headcanons mixed in…

August’s relationship to the royal family—or not—was a big source of conflict between his parents. Carl Johan wanted him hanging out with the royal family and getting to know his second cousins while Louise did not. For the most part, Louise won this argument when August was a child. In August’s early childhood, Carl Johan would frequently go off to visit the palace on his own, and came back with fun stories and various presents and the like. I base this on the fact that August doesn’t seem to have hung out with Wille or Erik as a child, and seems to have some seemingly “insider” knowledge of the royal family, but with like, weird gaps about things. He also tends to idealize royal life in a way Wilhelm doesn’t, given that Wilhelm has lived royal life. I feel like this is consistent with a backstory where August was mostly told about the royal life from his dad’s perspective. Like he’s got a lot of details but he doesn’t have all of them and he’s still got rose-colored glasses.

August before the age of twelve or so was one of those kids who was pretty bad at interacting with kids his own age, but was “better” at interacting with adults. He’s an only child, so he wouldn’t have grown up around siblings, and would have probably had to play alone a lot. I don’t know if I believe school or his local area would have been an easy place for him to make friends given what @sflow-er was saying about children of the nobility and what it’s like for them when they go to their local schools. I wouldn’t go so far as to say August was bullied. (I mean, maybe he was, I don’t know. From my experience of working with young people, it’s not uncommon for kids who are bullied at one school to become bullies at other schools they transfer to. On the other hand, I think we’ve seen enough of August’s personality to know he could potentially be prickly and arrogant and push other kids away. Regarding that question, I think I’d go with whatever the fic needs. Anyway!) I also feel like, with the growing tensions in his parents’ marriage, he potentially would have coped by trying to put up a mature facade at a young age, which would mean lots of convincing adults he can handle everything. By the time he gets to Hillerska that all comes crashing down on him.

Because I’m such a gothic lit weirdo I insist that there were rumors Årnäs was haunted. Young August probably got asked about that a lot.

Maternal backstory headcanons: Louise’s parents were diplomats or in international business or something similar, so she spent periods of her youth away from Sweden, and sometimes away from her parents, often in international schools or international boarding schools. I have nothing to go on here canon-wise, except there’s that line where August says Louise is off traveling when the Headmistress can’t reach her. It’s very much an excuse, of course, but I like to imagine a grain of truth to it. Louise’s youth abroad gave her a yearning for international travel, and it’s her favorite way to escape the pressures of life when they get too great.

Paternal backstory headcanons: perhaps one of my more… spicy? controversial? … whatever… headcanons is that Carl Johan and Kristina were one another’s Unfortunate Romances in their youth. But Blue, you say. They are cousins! Ew! Which, yes, but they are also royals, and that sort of thing isn’t completely unprecedented I guess. There’s also a neat little chiasmus in my head where Wilhelm’s “unfortunate romance” shakes up the royal court because they feel like he’s trying to pull the monarchy into the future too fast, whereas in Kristina’s day she was that the monarchy needed to modernize, and that sort of thing was less frowned upon centuries ago but these days it Isn’t Done. ANYWAY Carl Johan’s feelings for Kristina remained sort of unresolved for most of his life, and this was something he ruminated on as his addiction got worse. Louise and Carl Johan never spoke about this piece of his backstory, but it was sort of always hanging awkwardly in the air between them. This also fueled Louise’s desire to keep August away from the palace and the royal family stuff, and the fights between her and Carl John about that. None of the kids’ generation knows about the Unfortunate Romance. Well, maybe Erik did, but he’s dead.

You may be asking, if Louise was opposed to August going to the palace and hanging out with his second cousins, then why did she send him to Hillerska? That, my friends, was an act of resignation, and of her not knowing what to do. I imagine puberty was already making August pretty irritable and difficult to deal with. And, with things growing worse and worse between his parents and his father’s addiction growing more problematic, August was probably just… not in a good place. No one in the family was a good place. I don’t see his parents as fully divorced in the year or so leading up to his father’s death, but I do think they were separated—maybe in an obvious way, or  maybe they were pretending not to be. So, when Carl Johan took his own life, I imagine August’s anger and grief got even more explosive, and was often directed at his mother. Louise was not in a place where she knew how to deal with the situation, and sent him off to the school her husband had been pushing her to send August to. Sort of like she threw up her hands and went, “you know what? Fine. If this is his final wish, so be it.” And so August was sent away.

August showed up to his first year just sort of… quieter at first, with a lot of anger and grief simmering underneath. I mean why talk about feelings? He was also desperately, desperately in need of something that gave him a feeling of purpose. And then Erik found him. I think this was in part orchestrated a bit by Kristina behind the scenes; I imagine there was a call or text message where she nudged Erik to check up on her cousin’s kid, because even as complicated as the past was, Carl Johan was at one point Kristina’s favorite cousin. So what Erik did was appoint August as his first year lackey who takes care of everything for him—the one who knocks on his door in the morning, the one who pours the drinks at the party, and so on. Basically, August was in the Alexander role for Erik, and ended up taking it very seriously. This was the purpose he had been looking for, the sense of meaning.

I think August’s initiation would have played a role in helping him to feel a sense of purpose and community, too. Wait, what the fuck, Blue? That’s probably what you’re saying right now. Well… a lot of people talk about what the initiation sequence was or wasn’t for Wille, and how Wille’s initiation would have been worse than that of other students. And people usually only talk about that in terms of what Wille experienced. As someone who has attended a school with initiations (and who has even been initiated myself, albeit in a milder way because it was at a women’s college with traditions that differ from Hillerska’s) I actually don’t know if I think that’s true. I also think August’s initiation was probably a more… well, probably something he thought of as positive? Exciting? Seemingly helpful? (I mean, not helpful, but you know.)

EXTREME BONUS TANGENT: I can say that as someone who has been initiated myself, it’s certainly not a fun experience for everyone. That said, it was fun for me at the time, and remains important to me in a way. Speaking from the perspective of someone who enjoyed my initiation experience, it’s… well, it’s kind of weird. You’re in this strange state of torture for a while, like intense mental and physical discomfort, and everyone around you seems to be determined to contribute to that, and you feel very constrained and stretched to your limit. But then once you pass your initiation and you’re welcomed into your new community, it’s like this sudden switch over to an intense euphoria and a whole flood of endorphins. Like, I’m here, and they’re cheering me on, and I belong here, and these people are my family and I love them now. NOW, THAT SAID: initiations are not a good practice generally, because they are generally done en masse and there is a lot of potential for peer pressure and institutionalized abuse. I view my college’s initiation traditions differently now than I do when I was eighteen. That said, my college had also at least put some infrastructure in place as far as consent and contracts, to keep things from going wrong. You could opt out of any task at any time. Still—it’s not a perfect system, and Hillerska is far from perfect, so. You know. Personal memories I have complex feelings about.

Back to Hillerska… August seems to be someone who responds to extreme sensations, so I think he probably was someone who would have felt that intense endorphin rush from his initiation. (We frequently see him chasing other highs in the show, too.) And he would have gone through this at a time when he’d just lost his father and was Achilles-level angry at his mother, when he desperately wanted to feel like he was part of something and belonged somewhere. He probably came out of the ordeal worshipping Erik and ready to die for him, and I imagine Erik responded to that loyalty in kind. I expect that they grew close, but it was also definitely a relationship where Erik called the shorts and August followed his lead. This is, in part, why I struggle to buy into fanfics where August betrays or harms Erik, and why I can’t really sign onto the idea that August would have released a video of Erik. Or at least—he wouldn’t get there without multiple steps leading up to it, and multiple perceived trusts being broken, the way things were with Wilhelm. One of the steps, too, in August betraying Wilhelm, is Erik’s death putting August into a state of volatile grief. So there’s that. Like I cannot stress enough how much I don’t think he’d randomly turn on Erik like a mustache-twirling villain.

One more innocuous headcanon: Erik taught August how to dress, because August showed up to school with no damn idea, his first year. To be fair, so few sixteen-year-old boys know how to dress themselves, even when they can afford nice wardrobes. Some of August’s clothes are his father’s old clothes. I mean, definitely the outfit he went shooting in feels like something that could have belonged to his dad.

One less innocuous headcanon: August kept some pretty serious secrets for Erik. I still kind of think this is true in canon and that we could get a big secret revealed in season 3.

That’s all for now! I hope you enjoyed reading if you got this far. I don’t expect too much engagement but I am making an effort to be more real and honest about my YR enthusiasms in these posts.