#nobody here is having a good time.

[thewiglesswonder]

You know the TFA Decepticons aren’t an oppressed minority right? DJW even said their Rise Up rhetoric was a jab at how conservatives preach about Protecting Freedoms, and in the Allspark Almanac it’s explained they wanted to colonize other planets and the Autobots objected to that. The Decepticons were exiled for being military fascists.

I'd really, really love to know where I've ever said that on this blog, but since you seem very convinced that I did, let's look at the lore again. I don't feel like trawling the internet for this specific tweet/whatever form this DJW evidence has, so if you have that, I'd love to see it.

This timeline from the Allspark Almanac II pretty clearly states that the entire crux of Cybertronian society as a whole has rested on colonization, very early on in their species' history. Their "Golden Age" 8 billion stellar cycles ago is characterized by expansion that led to the colonization (!!!) of their solar system, further colonization only prevented by isolationism.

The earliest indications of the factional split that mark their history exist within the ruling class Guardians and the Malignus, defined as a "military caste". This implies that Golden Age Cybertron existed as a caste system. Which I would take a guess as not being particularly great.

And when we get to the first (again, quoted from the text here,) "military coup", it's executed by the political ancestors of the Autobots. Not a peep about the Malignus while that was going on.

This faction eventually becomes the Protectobots, and the most notable thing about them is that their leader attempted a Great Purge of "undesirable elements" from their society. I'd be hard pressed to think I'm wrong in thinking that's kinda fucked up. We're not given explicit reasons for this 17 million year war, but wars don't happen without someone to oppose someone else, and we get this in the form of the Destrons.

As for the point about colonization: my point is not that the Decepticon's motivations are not what we see in canon. Not at all. My point is that the Autobots have the same fucking motivation.

The Age of Expansion literally begins when the Autobots take power! It only ends when they butt heads with the Quintessons! Colonization, militarism, and facism, as you put it, are not traits that are unique to Decepticons.

And, according to this timeline and historical reasoning given, there is no mention of either faction's position on further expansion. The formation of the Decepticons is rooted in the divide between labor and military aligned Cybertronians. Both sections are equally responsible for the imperialistic efforts of their Empire/Commonwealth/whatever you want to call it, and make no mistake, this does continue into the present day! From both factions!

Assuming you're referring to my hefty lean towards the Cons in terms of character/exploration interest in the gist of your message, my goal here is not to elevate them to the same Good Guy Status the Autobots have by virtue of being the protagonists. I am fully and completely aware that they are a group of insane zealots that have rallied under a guy who was described by his own VA as an "elegant bully". Rather, I think what you're picking up on is my focus on the fact that the Autobots in Animated have more than their fair share of insidious shit going on.

They retain what is essentially a military dictatorship, with the position of Magnus being only theoretically beholden to the will of the Council and Guilds, as seen when Sentinel was able to fire Fortress Maximus with no approval from the Council and got nothing more than a disapproving sentence from Alpha Trion. We have no word on how their schooling institutions work, but all of it seems heavily centered on their version of the military they've concocted in the absence of warbuilds. And, just in case we forgot about Sentinel's proposed budget...

And that's not even getting into how fucked up Autobot culture is! They're unspeakably xenophobic, throw around propagandistic phrases like they're nothing ("Cogs in the Great Autobot Machine", anyone?), have an incredibly questionable justice system if Wasp is anything to go by, and this only seems to be getting worse at the end of Season 3, if Sentinel's curfews and public service announcements are anything to go by.

I'm not trying to make the Decepticons look better. I'm trying to make the Autobots look worse.

[claraoswalds]

#mrs flood who are you: time lord edition

[thunderboltfire]

I have a lot of complicated feelings when it comes to what Neflix has done with the Witcher, but my probably least favourite is the line of argumentation that originated during shitstorms related to the first and second season that I was unlucky to witness.

It boils down to "Netflix's reinterpretation and vision is valid, because the Witcher books are not written to be slavic. The overwhelming Slavic aestetic is CDPR's interpretation, and the setting in the original books is universally European, as there are references to Arthurian mythos and celtic languages" And I'm not sure where this argument originated and whether it's parroting Sapkowski's own words or a common stance of people who haven't considered the underlying themes of the books series. Because while it's true that there are a lot of western european influences in the Witcher, it's still Central/Eastern European to the bone, and at its core, the lack of understanding of this topic is what makes the Netflix series inauthentic in my eyes.

The slavicness of the Witcher goes deeper than the aestetics, mannerisms, vodka and sour cucumbers. Deeper than Zoltan wrapping his sword with leopard pelt, like he was a hussar. Deeper than the Redanian queen Hedvig and her white eagle on the red field.

What Witcher is actually about? It's a story about destiny, sure. It's a sword-and-sorcery style, antiheroic deconstruction of a fairy tale, too, and it's a weird mix of many culture's influences.

But it's also a story about mundane evil and mundane good. If You think about most dark, gritty problems the world of Witcher faces, it's xenophobia and discrimination, insularism and superstition. Deep-seated fear of the unknown, the powerlessness of common people in the face of danger, war, poverty and hunger. It's what makes people spit over their left shoulder when they see a witcher, it's what makes them distrust their neighbor, clinging to anything they deem safe and known. It's their misfortune and pent-up anger that make them seek scapegoats and be mindlessly, mundanely cruel to the ones weaker than themselves.

There are of course evil wizards, complicated conspiracies and crowned heads, yes. But much of the destruction and depravity is rooted in everyday mundane cycle of violence and misery. The worst monsters in the series are not those killed with a silver sword, but with steel. it's hard to explain but it's the same sort of motiveless, mundane evil that still persist in our poorer regions, born out of generations-long poverty and misery. The behaviour of peasants in Witcher, and the distrust towards authority including kings and monarchs didn't come from nowhere.

On the other hand, among those same, desperately poor people, there is always someone who will share their meal with a traveller, who will risk their safety pulling a wounded stranger off the road into safety. Inconditional kindness among inconditional hate. Most of Geralt's friends try to be decent people in the horrible world. This sort of contrasting mentalities in the recently war-ridden world is intimately familiar to Eastern and Cetral Europe.

But it doesn't end here. Nilfgaard is also a uniquely Central/Eastern European threat. It's a combination of the Third Reich in its aestetics and its sense of superiority and the Stalinist USSR with its personality cult, vast territory and huge army, and as such it's instantly recognisable by anybody whose country was unlucky enough to be caught in-between those two forces. Nilfgaard implements total war and looks upon the northerners with contempt, conscripts the conquered people forcibly, denying them the right of their own identity. It may seem familiar and relevant to many opressed people, but it's in its essence the processing of the trauma of the WW2 and subsequent occupation.

My favourite case are the nonhumans, because their treatment is in a sense a reminder of our worst traits and the worst sins in our history - the regional antisemitism and/or xenophobia, violence, local pogroms. But at the very same time, the dilemma of Scoia'Tael, their impossible choice between maintaining their identity, a small semblance of freedom and their survival, them hiding in the forests, even the fact that they are generally deemed bandits, it all touches the very traumatic parts of specifically Polish history, such as January Uprising, Warsaw Uprising, Ghetto Uprising, the underground resistance in WW2 and the subsequent complicated problem of the Cursed Soldiers all at once. They are the 'other' to the general population, but their underlying struggle is also intimately known to us.

The slavic monsters are an aestetic choice, yes, but I think they are also a reflection of our local, private sins. These are our own, insular boogeymen, fears made flesh. They reproduce due to horrors of the war or they are an unprovoked misfortune that descends from nowhere and whose appearance amplifies the local injustices.

I'm not talking about many, many tiny references that exist in the books, these are just the most blatant examples that come to mind. Anyway, the thing is, whether Sapkowski has intended it or not, Witcher is slavic and it's Polish because it contains social commentary. Many aspects of its worldbuilding reflect our traumas and our national sins. It's not exclusively Polish in its influences and philosophical motifs of course, but it's obvious it doesn't exist in a vacuum.

And it seems to me that the inherently Eastern European aspects of Witcher are what was immediately rewritten in the series. It seems to me that the subtler underlying conflicts were reshaped to be centered around servitude, class and gender disparity, and Nilfgaard is more of a fanatic terrorist state than an imposing, totalitarian empire. A lot of complexity seems to be abandoned in lieu of usual high-fantasy wordbuilding. It's especially weird to me because it was completely unnecessary. The Witcher books didn't need to be adjusted to speak about relevant problems - they already did it! The problem of acceptance and discrimination is a very prevalent theme throughout the story! They are many strong female characters too, and they are well written. Honestly I don't know if I should find it insulting towards their viewers that they thought it won't be understood as it was and has to be somehow reshaped to fit the american perpective, because the current problems are very much discussed in there and Sapkowski is not subtle in showing that genocide and discrimination is evil. Heck, anyone who has read the ending knows how tragic it makes the whole story.

It also seems quite disrespectful, because they've basically taken a well-established piece of our domestic literature and popular culture and decided that the social commentary in it is not relevant. It is as if all it referenced was just not important enough and they decided to use it as an opportunity to talk about the problems they consider important. And don't get me wrong, I'm not forcing anyone to write about Central European problems and traumas, I'm just confused that they've taken the piece of art already containing such a perspective on the popular and relevant problem and they just... disregarded it, because it wasn't their exact perspective on said problem.

And I think this homogenisation, maybe even from a certain point of view you could say it's worldview sanitisation is a problem, because it's really ironic, isn't it? To talk about inclusivity in a story which among other problems is about being different, and in the same time to get rid of motifs, themes and references because they are foreign? Because if something presents a different perspective it suddenly is less desirable?

There was a lot of talking about the showrunners travelling to Poland to understand the Witcher's slavic spirit and how to convey it. I don't think they really meant it beyond the most superficial, paper-thin facade.

[ar1mas]

- a rant

no because ive watched this stupid show 5 years ago, and i only noticed this now?? how???

ok. some context first. this is about fox' gotham, a prequel series to batman. or at least a potential one with slight changes. one of those changes is the relationship between oswald cobblepot and edward nygma (spelled with a 'y' for mayhap legal reasons? idfk its silly). whats their relationship like in the show? well...

theyre gay af. idk what to tell you.

okay so oswalds gay as fuck. edwards... ambiguous. totally ambiguous. he had a girlfriend or 2 and a half (kristen kringle, the-woman-who-shall-not-be-named (aka kristen but... blonde? this show is weird), and lee. not comfy counting lee, but technically shes one, hence the 'and a half')! very straight, much hetero (on another side note how tf is oswald the gay one, like i know he wears make-up and shit but eddies all about theatrics and showmanship and flair and hOW IS OSWALD THE GAY ONE NEXT TO HIM?? ok anyway).

so oswald was (is. be real.) canonically in love with ed, ed was.........., and 'penguin in love' is a piece of music composed by david russo for season three in which the whole "im in love with my best friend" thing took place.

that song has been used all over season three, as far as i can tell not once in season four, and once in season five.

.....or so i thought.

because yesterday, while in another obsession phase (of which i get one a few times a year. ive only ever watched the show once, in 2019, when it ended. still dream about nygmobblepot though. i dont dream about media, like ever, but with them, its different), i saw 5x8 to satiate my never satisfied craving of nygmob scenes, obviously skipping the main story bc i dont care about that straight shit. i got to the scene where oswald kills mr. scarface and frees arthur penn from said mr. scarface, after which ed shoots him in the head because thats what one does in such a situation, thought "aw how cute", again, as one does, and then realised.

what was that background music just now? rewinds.... oh. oh haha, its 'penguin in love'. how fun.

WHAT.

WHY IS THAT IN THERE. WHY DID THEY INCLUDE IT.

correction. it wouldve made sense to have it here. they used it in 5x5 for the speech about not backstabbing each other (wedding vows for murderers fr fr), so using it again after their relationship has solidified wouldve made sense.

note how im saying 'would have'.

because it would have made sense, if they used it when ed said "i accept you for the person that you are, just as you accept me for the cold logician that i am. thats why this friendship is great." they didnt, though. they used another equally heartfelt song for that. dunno what its called, it sounds a bit like 'penguin in love' but isnt, not sure if that one has a specific meaning like 'penguin in love' does.

so when was the song used? at 36:08 – 36:17. barely ten seconds, right before eds lines, right before ed kills penn.

...right when penn was sitting in oswalds lap because theyd been fighting for the gun and os fell on the ground.

now. the most obvious answer to "why in the fucking hell" would be because ooh this dudes on his lap so sexy, but no. no. 'penguin in love' is about one specific thing: love. the pure kind. the kind that makes you giddy with butterflies in your stomach, kicking your legs, while youre on your bed, writing in your diary about this guy you have a crush on. and oswald and penn do have history, oswald was more or less fond of penn, but not in love (i mean where would he have found the room in his heart if it was already filled with EDWARD EDWARD EDWARD martin my sweet boy EDWARD EDWARD EDWA-). im also definitely not thinking that penn was so happy about being free from mr. scarfaces influence and not having to kill oswald (oh yeah, the horror. who would wanna kill oswald, the guy with the big ego, who never does anything for anyone without some kind of endgoal- well, unless your name is edward of course) that he instantly fell in love with the guy. i can deal with the homicidal kind of crazy, but that? no. thats where i draw the line.

the next most obvious answer is that it was about oswalds love for ed. more believable, since its what the song was made for, but more believable doesnt mean believable. or likely. because even if i 100% believe that hes been loving this dude for so long its not something he has to think about anymore for it to be true, im pretty sure that itd be very random to suddenly focus on that when oswald was just about to die. so no, even if its what the song is intrinsically about.

so next most obvious answer is- wait. thats it. huh? theres no obvious answer anymore? everything else is brainrot? oh. oh well. its been five years, im sure its too late to worry about it now. what the hell.

im sure you know where im going with this. or maybe not. honestly idk what the fuck im talking about-

youre smart. you know what im about to say. if it wasnt about what oswald was feeling because he was otherwise preoccupied, and it wasnt about penn because that makes no fucking sense, then who was this song used for? who else was in the room?

...oh.

YOU.

YOU FUCKING IMBECILE. YOU STUPID DENSE PIECE OF-

inhale, exhale. no. don’ get mad, you know he cant help it. you know hes totally helpless when it comes to emotions. just breathe. ok.

i hate him. i hate him so much.

if the song wasnt for oswalds sake, it was for his. because i know hes in love with oswald, but does ed? does the producers??

'penguin in love' is about oswalds love. its about his love for edward. its about their love, their relationship. its about edward just as much as it is about oswald.

a-fucking-PPARANTLY, I DIDNT KNOW THAT!! I JUST THOUGHT OH YEAH OZZY BE THE GAY ONE HAHA FUNNY, I DIDNT KNOW IT COULD BE ABOUT ED DIRECTLY!!!

(why am i like this? what is my life? i will never be normal.)

ed has always been the obsessive one. first kristen (and the woman who shall not be named is just an extention of that ofc), then oswald, then lee. and as weve seen with kristen, when hes obsessed with someone, he can become possessive. absolutely not on the scale oswald is on, but still. theres a wee bit of jelly there. oh you have a boyfriend? better get rid of him! oh you wanna run away from me bc i murdered your boyfriend? better keep you right in place and- oh shit did i kill you? ono D:

this is a huge oversimplification, but you get the point. its there. or at least it has to be there because why else do you get so angy that someone is sitting in the lap of your just friend because they were fighting and they ended up in that position totally accidentally? like thats not normal behaviour, for anyone, unless you have possessive tendencies.

i mean its not like penn was a threat in any way. "he wasnt the threat, the dummy was the-" like i understand ed told penn about the submarine which was supposed to be a secret, but come on, like they couldnt make sure penn wouldnt say anything. so why would ed shoot him? its not even like penn was a random dude where that type of thing would be very inconsequential, oswald knew him. hed worked for oswald, and like i said, oswald was more or less fond of the guy. penns just a poor little meow meow, y u kil him eddie? 🥺

unless this fondness was part of the problem. unless ed saw how happy oswald was to see him, got annoyed but let it slide, then used penn attacking os and knowing about the sub as an excuse to kill him. and why would oswald being happy to see penn be a problem to ed? it wouldnt be. it wouldnt be, unless ed thinks oswald is his.

which makes sense. i know im calling him names and calling him out, but like. oswald told him he loved him like 5 times 2 years prior, i dont blame him for believing that maybe theres something to it (especially since that was the point of 3x14, oswald really being in love with him and surprising himself with it). but i thought ed didnt feel the same way? because hes very hetero? because he had a full-on girlfriend before, twice, technically? because-

"the truth is oswald, you would sacrifice anyone to save your own neck. even me."

"like i said! you will always fail, because youll never change."

hm. i know this is a bit off topic, but i just got a war-flashback and... why did ed sound so hurt when he said that? "youll never change." "you would sacrifice anyone. even me." why does he care? they were friends, best friends, yes, but why does he sound like a heartbroken wife who just found out her husband cheated on her again? why does-

"honestly you deserve this. you are opportunistic, your loyalty is.. shaking, at best, and you will hurt anyone, anyone, to get what you want."

"and yes, i was not a good friend. to you or anyone. its why im alone. but i saw you for what you are and i valued that!"

...why would edward nygma, the man who literally said "i dont love you" to oswald, be jealous of even the idea that maybe penn could have something going on with oswald? and why would he act on it if hes usually so careful to not reveal his feelings (unless its about kristen. the original obsession, the american dream, the just be normal, show them you are normal, and people will accept you)? he wouldnt.

unless oswald just told him that he knows he messed up. that hes sorry for it.

and unless that made him think that maybe theres a chance.

"love is about sacrifice. its about putting someone elses needs and happiness before your own."

"you gave up your revenge for me?"

a chance... for what?

"life begins anew."

"shall we get to work?"

and if theres a chance, hes not about to risk losing it. not this time.

so maybe 'penguin in love' is about more than just oswalds feelings. maybe they were trying to tell us that, yes, we see you traumatised gay kid, were sorry this is all we can give you, but here you go, eds in love with him too, but don’t tell the channel. subtlely. just for barely ten seconds. and maybe it can be enough.

nope, it wont be. im gonna sit here crying about the injustice of not having them kiss on screen in the finale as was originally intended for the rest of my life. seriously though, what is this, nbc's hannibal, where im noticing something new details every single time i watch the show, causing me to spiral? no, i was already spiralling. the spiralling was the reason i rewatched the scene. the scene simply made it worse.

so yeah, im done freaking out about a mediocre show that was cancelled 5 years ago and is honestly not worth anyones time (like, its ok. it might even be better than i remember since its been so long. i doubt it. but its ok).

tl;dr: ive only now realised that a specific gay song plays in a specific episode of a show i watched 5 years ago and the only reason theyd include it in the episode is if the dude that was not canonically in love with the other dude was in fact gay, they just werent allowed to make it canon, so they added the gay song to subtlely tell us about it.

have a wonderful day, hellsite. dont do what i did and go crazy about fictional gay people. i know you will though, that’s why im here too. i hate gay people. these two make me homophobic so bad, i wanna gauge my eyes out and skin myself-

[ferrouswheel11]

Like. Tim was supposed to be the level-headed Robin. Quick thinker, emotionally stable, Batman’s right hand. He gets kidnapped by Joker, and Bruce tells himself he’ll save him this time. It’s not going to be like Jason. Tim is nothing like Jason.

He’s right.

Tim doesn’t want to be saved. He shoots Joker dead and laughs.

Bruce tries to bring him home but Tim doesn’t want to go. He looks so much like Joker, with his skin smeared oily white and the corners of his lips pulled taut. But the sharp way he talks is just so familiar, so Tim, like Bruce could just reach out and grab him and pull his Robin back to the surface — if Tim wasn’t already cackling and slipping away into the shadows of the abandoned asylum.

The next time he sees Tim, the boy is having the time of his life, leading the GCPD all over town on a wild goose chase involving copious amounts of fireworks, laughing gas, and awful puns.

Gothamites are relieved — the villain that terrorized their city is dead, traded in for a cuter, less-bloodthirsty-but-equally-maniacal version. He’s equal parts scary and charming — even Nightwing looks conflicted for a moment when Tim plants a red lipstick mark on his cheek and sets off a glitter bomb in his face.

He’s happier now, he insists. Robin was great and all, but this is tons more fun. Why was he holding himself back for so long? He used to think every responsibility he took on was so important, that he was saving Gotham — all Gotham really needs is a good laugh!

…And don’t call him Junior, he informs Bruce, gesturing with the gag gun he used to kill Joker. The Joker is back, and he’s here to stay.

[araneapeixes]

currently experiencing. sad autism where im scared that bc i post so slow everybody has already gotten over bg3 and theres no point in me getting to all the ideas i still have bc novody will care. can anybody just reassure me real quick that you will still want me to draw shadowheart once every 3 months in the future

[iknowicanbutwhy]

Puyo/Madou, meet ISAT. ISAT, meet Puyo/Madou. I'm sure you have everything in common and this is not at all a completely random crossover of my two current interests

[kimbapisnotsushi]

i'm not such a big fan of being all doom and gloom even though the stakes are REALLY fucking dire and it is an insanely stressful time for myself and fellow americans (as well as anyone overseas at risk of getting a stomach ulcer just watching our news) so. can i just say i love you guys. i love you guys and i love my friends and family i love my community i love my home i love so many people and places and i will NEVER stop believing and hoping and fighting for a better future come what may, because that's where my love goes. i will always be forever grateful for this space that i have built from the ground up with just a keyboard and my bare hands, that allows me to rest and be happy and to help people in turn, and that let me connect with so many wonderful, beautiful, amazing people. i love everyone who has been with me for the past three to four years of running this blog and i love everyone new for wanting to stick around and see what comes next. thank you for being with me. thank you for your support and tags full of ramblings and the asks and everything that makes this hellsite worth it. no matter what happens i will be here and i will continue to love and fight and persevere and, yes, i will continue being a huge nerd as long as i can.

and @ fellow americans: hydrate, eat, take a break from watching if it gets too much. i am holding your hand. may we all get to breathe easy.

[undefeatablesin]

Watch out ya'll, Sin's sketching Bloodborne comics again! 💀

[sprolden]

"no one actually cares about the spotify links you post" wrong. i do. i mean it when i say i listen to at least half of the songs people put on my dash. a solid amount of my music i find through random hyperlinks or, preferably, a dramatic text post that uses smalltext.io liberally. i will even google randomly posted lyrics to find out which song it's from and then listen to it attentively and put it in a playlist if i like it. dont know whose god complex this is going to feed but i need to put this out there

[brutal-nemesis]

big question!! dude can we please see a scene in the AU where castys has his tongue cut off and he has to deal with that? like man, the shock and the pain and the fuckin grief? and neteri just being herself ofc

anyway the latest erebus chapter was heartbreaking you’re so good at being awful to these lads (i can’t stop reading)

Thank you I try,,,,,

Okay strap in fellas I think this is banger as hell I had a great time and let me know if you have any other requests for the AU!

Castys & Terror AU Masterlist - Castys Masterlist - Next→

Ingredients: shockingly, tongue gets cut off! some suffocation as well

Castys wasn’t great at sitting in chairs normally, something his parents had always reprimanded him for, but, hey, they’d never taken it as far as to fucking tie him to one, and Castys was grateful. This shit was uncomfortable. Like, yeah, the rough ropes around his wrists and ankles were tight and itchy, but also the position just sucked. Not that he’d rather be standing or something-

“You must be Castys!” The door had swung open, and now this little lady with a white coat on was walking up to him. 

“Yes, I’m Castys,” he said flatly as she scurried behind him before coming back without her bag. And then she just…stared at him. Castys wasn’t sure what she was looking at, since there really wasn’t much to see, just, like, him. Eventually her eyes wandered up to his, and she jumped in place a bit.

“Oh, right, I’m Neteri.” She stuck her hand out like she expected him to shake it.

“You know I’m tied up, right?”

“Ah. Yeah.” Her skin was dark enough that it wasn’t immediately obvious that she was blushing, but Castys was pretty sure she was. She ended up awkwardly grabbing his right hand and shaking it a bit. “I, um, I’ll be preparing you for this afternoon. Sorry, I’m just a bit nervous.”

“Well, you’re not tied to a chair so I think you’ll be okay.”

She laughed. “You’re right, you’re right, but I’m just…I think I’m going to do something I’m not supposed to do.”

Castys raised an eyebrow. “Let me go because I’m funny?”

Neteri rolled her eyes, but she was smiling, so clearly she did think he was funny. “No, you’re staying put, sorry bud. But I think I’m going to keep you. You’re kind of perfect.” She tried to cup his cheek in her hand, but Castys leaned away, staring at her with wide eyes.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” His mouth was really dry all of a sudden, he wasn’t perfect, he was a fuck-up, a useless heir, that had been his goal, he wasn’t good at anything he was supposed to be good at, he wasn’t well-mannered or polite, he had a huge fucking scar on his face and a lopsided smile because of it, he was filthy and vulgar and didn’t have any interest in getting married he was absolutely anything but perfect. So why the hell did she want him?

“It’s not important right now. You’ve got a big day ahead of you!” She clapped her hands, dismissing the subject entirely. He wanted to press her further, but after seeing the lovely object she pulled out of her pocket, everything else was forgotten.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Aw, what are you gonna do about it, Castys? I thought you were tied to a chair!” Great, now it was his turn to feel his face grow hot, because, yeah, what the fuck was he gonna do?

Normally, he doubted he’d immediately recognize it for what it was, but today, right now, after just being told this lady wanted to keep him, it was instantly clear. And Neteri was right, he was only able to squirm uselessly and lean away as she wrapped the collar around his neck without much trouble. His first swallow after she’d sealed it shut felt horrible, and he absolutely did not want to get used to it.

“See, it’s not so bad. It looks cute on you!” She ruffled his hair, which only made Castys more uncomfortable.

“I don’t want to be cute. I’m not a fucking dog.” He wasn’t sure whether the collar was part of Neteri’s weird desires or just to humiliate him, but either way he hated it.

“No, you’re not, but you’re also not a prince anymore, and you’re the property of the Xernan Empire, and this is a good reminder of that,” Neteri said as she walked around behind him, probably to her bag. Castys rolled his eyes. He didn’t need to be reminded that he wasn’t a prince, since it was his favorite new development in all of this. Unless…unless it wasn’t just a reminder for him, but for everyone else, too…He really, really hoped there wasn’t going to be some sort of public display, but given how Neteri’d said he had a “big day” ahead…fuck, that was probably the case, huh?

“Now, I’m going to…oh, I might get in so much trouble for this,” Neteri muttered as she stared at the floor, standing in front of him once again. She had leather gloves on, which would have been nice earlier when she was touching him, and she was holding…a pair of shears? He didn’t think she’d put on gloves if she was just going to cut his hair, and given that she thought she might get in trouble for it, it seemed like she was going to…maim him somehow. Castys curled his hands into fists as Neteri slapped her cheeks with her palms, still talking to herself. “No, I’m going to do this. I deserve it. It’s not that far off from what the emperor wants. Okay,” she held the shears up and gave Castys a concerningly bright smile. “Any last words?”

For once, Castys didn’t take the opportunity to speak.

Instead, he locked his jaw shut tight, teeth clenched so hard it hurt, lips pressed together, walls of protection around his tongue. 

That’s what she wanted, wasn’t it?

Neteri cocked her head, watching him. “Nothing to say all of a sudden? No jokes?” Her smile disappeared as her eyes narrowed. “You figured it out, didn’t you, Castys? What I’m going to do to you.”

He didn’t bother nodding.

Neteri stepped up to him, her knee on the chair in between his legs, leaning over him, her face right above his as he craned back to avoid her. “You’re going to have to get used to obeying me, Castys.” The cold metal of the shears rested on his cheek. “So open your mouth.”

If there’s one thing Castys was good at, it was disobeying orders.

After a few moments of neither of them moving, Neteri pinched Castys’s nose shut with her free hand, not saying a word. Fine, he could play that game. Hold on as the pressure in his chest built, as his head started to spin, as his vision started to darken, every fiber of his being screaming at him to just give in to the inevitable and take a breath. He could do it quick, a little gasp, fast enough that she wouldn’t be able to do anything. Okay, three, two…

The exhale was shaky, but it was fine, just a quick inhale as he snapped his mouth shut-

His teeth scraped against metal, the sensation sending shivers down his spine.

Neteri stared at him with a detached coldness as she rotated the shears, forcing his jaw open wide, wide enough for her to stick her hand in and grab his tongue, pulling it out despite his attempts to pull it back, turning the shears to the side now, opening them up, the cold blades-

Snip.

Castys’s mouth was hot it was burning he was choking the smell of blood was so strong he was suffocating on it her hand was still in his mouth her fingers pressed against his wound magic piercing through his jaw he’d scream if he had the air and then that was it her hand was gone he lurched forward coughing and spitting blood and saliva all down the front of the threadbare shirt he’d been given and once he saw the discarded little piece of pink flesh on the floor he couldn’t look at anything else he couldn’t believe that was it it was gone it wasn’t in his mouth his mouth was empty there was only the blood still dripping out and when Neteri laid a hand on his back he wanted to growl at her not to touch him but he couldn’t he couldn’t say anything anymore he was quiet nothing to say no thoughts or opinions of his own just how his parents had wanted him-

“It’s alright, Castys, just breathe. It was a little more difficult than it needed to be, but you did it.” And why did it need to be at all? “Just two more things left today and then you can rest. And then hopefully…” Her hand slid up, resting on the back of his neck, on that awful collar, and Castys wanted to scream. He never, ever wanted to belong to her.

But what he wanted didn’t matter anymore.

Castys was dragged out and whipped and branded and left out on display, brought back and patched up by Neteri and given soup that he couldn’t taste, and when the door slammed shut behind her, he finally allowed himself to cry.

His back and chest hurt, of course, the wounds aggravated no matter how he moved or what position he laid in, but he could deal with it. It was nothing compared to what he’d lost, the little pocket of empty space inside his mouth.

Words were all he’d ever have to really fight back, complaining when he was forced to do things he didn’t want to, scaring off all the suitors his parents picked out, jokes keeping him calm when he was scared or upset, even when he couldn’t do anything he could still say something, make sure everyone knew how he felt, and now he was more helpless than ever before and he couldn’t say a single fucking thing. 

He didn’t even know where he was going to end up, either sold off to some asshole or left in Neteri’s clutches, and no matter what, he wasn’t going to be treated like a person. The collar made it pretty clear. He was less than human now, a pet, a lab rat, property, something that didn’t need to have thoughts or opinions anymore. 

He’d rather be a prince after all.

Castys Cult: @as-a-matter-of-whump​ @blackrosesandwhump​ @fanmanga1357-blog​​ @thehopelessopus​ @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

@hearse-song​ @muddy-swamp-bitch @whumpasaurus101 @yet-another-heathen​​ @galaxywhump 

@starnight-whump​ @his-unspoken-words​ @misspelledwitch @suspicious-whumping-egg​ @pumpkin-spice-whump​ 

@painsandconfusion @i-can-even-burn-salad @befuddled-calico-whump​ @whumpinggrounds​ @whump-queen​

@whumpedydump

[sideblogdotjpeg]

hey guys does anybody know whats the date today

[psygull-arts]

Surrender my love to you? Like a hunter you never miss your mark I think this time you are gonna find You want my love, you'll have to take it

Winkie and Sterling as a birthday present for @steampunkforever ! I love these guys a lot and it was fun to finally do a finished piece for them. the emotions are big, and so is the hair

[paging-possum]

Local guy cursed to always have someone bear witness to his reaction to the end of dungeons and daddies episode 28

[123pixieaod]

Tried to write a fun little fic about why Daniel unfollowed on Instagram Zak, Michael, Fernando, and Nicki, the most random quartet possible, only to end up with this lol

Daniel finally answers a call at just gone 4.30am, Max's time. It's 5.30am, Daniel's time, which admittedly is only marginally better, but maybe the hospital he's in has some crazy Get-Up-And-Seize-The-Day sort of ethos. Although from what Christian has told him, Daniel might not be seizing anything, metaphorically or otherwise, for some time.

"Daniel," Max says as soon as he hears the line clicking through. "How are you? How do you feel? Is your wrist alright? Do the doctors and nurses take care of you, do they speak English, or did Red Bull send a Spanish translator and I hope I have not woken you up and-"

He cuts himself off. There's a sort of stunned silence on the other side of the line. Sometimes, Max thinks his need for Daniel is a bottomless pit, something that has hollowed him out and leaves an ache echoing through him.

"Max?" Daniel says, incredulous. High, drugged up, gone on pain medication. "How did you get into my phone?!"

Max squeezes his eyes shut. His mouth is twisted, making some shape. A smile, a frown? He doesn't know, nobody can see him in his old childhood bedroom.

He wants to be with Daniel. He wants to brush a hand through his curls and run his fingertips along the lines of his faded tattoos like how a child would first begin to trace letters and numbers.

I miss you, he wants to say

I want you

I need you

"I'm not in your phone," he says instead, tone light and soft. "I called you. I am in the Netherlands."

"Oh," Daniel says, as if the fact Max had not been magically transformed into his phone is mildly disappointing. "What are you doing there?"

"We had a race, remember?" Max says. He's stretched out on his old bed. His feet dangle just slightly off the edge, and each year, he's promised a new one, bigger and larger and finally a grown-up bed. But it never materialises and Max has stopped bringing it up now.

The room is unchanged. Around him, the faces of former racing legends watch him, tapped to his wall. Above, stars look down, stuck to his ceiling in haphazard patterns. The day his father got to play God and created universes and cosmos splayed above his head.

"Of course," Daniel huffs good naturedly. "You won, Maxy."

"I know," Max replies softly.

"It was your ninth consecutive win," Daniel continues, his tone strong and proud, as if it's Daniel who has achieved it. Maybe he's so high on meds he thinks it is, that him and Max are some sort of Jeckyl and Hyde being, two sides of the same life. Max doesn't know. A headache is building behind his eyes. He hasn't really slept since Friday, three days previous.

"You're now equalling Sebastian Vettle. If you win the next race, you'll beat the record." Daniel continues before pausing, as if realisation is only just dawning. "I don't think I'll be there."

"No," Max murmurs. "I don't think you will be either."

"My wrist is really fucked," Daniel goes back to his jubilant tone, like a child with the best show and tell in school. "I have a metal plate in it, isn't that neat?"

He laughs. Max closes his eyes, just listening to the sound. "Imagine if it goes off at every airport security, Maxy? How annoying with that be?" He laughs again, the prospect sounding delightful to him in that very moment.

Max hums softly, and then shifts on the bed, turning away from the stars his father hung up for him. Instead, he moves to his side, facing a giant poster of Micheal Schumacher celebrating one of his championships. At the bottom, Max, to great things! MS. He was six. It was one of the best Christmas presents his dad had ever gotten him.

"How do you feel?" He asks. Daniel is humming a tune under his breath, the theme song to some gameshome Max barely recognises. He stops at Max's question.

"Good," he says happily. "I have gained deep clarity."

That shocks a laugh out of Max, as only Daniel, even doped, drugged Daniel, can do. The longing feels physical, the hole never ending in his chest. He closes his eyes, blocking out the stars and racing legends whose shine has faded and whose records he's now beating.

In another life, he thinks, he would be there. He'd be the first face Daniel would see, the first hand he'd get to hold, the first for nearly everything, just like Daniel had been for Max.

But instead they're a time zone apart and Daniel is alone in a country where he can't even speak the language and Max is in his childhood bedroom, surrounded by his family who are fast sleep and utterly oblivious to the fact he's gay, let alone in a relationship with Daniel Ricciardo.

"Clarity," Max forces his mind back on track. "How so?"

"Oh you know," Daniel says with ease. "Cleared my mental space."

Max huffs another laugh. His chest aches, empty. He wonders does Daniel know how hollowed out he is without him.

"Go on."

"Well, I deleted a shit ton of apps. That wellness app you made me download last year? Sorry Maxy, but that went," Daniel makes a popping noise. "And the fertility tracking app Scotty downloaded at his bachelor's party."

"Presumably he just got his and your phones mixed up, right?"

"No Maxy, it was a prank because I -" Daniel breaks away, finally understanding, laughing as if Max has made the funniest joke possible.

"Okay so you cleared up some space on your phone," Max prompts him.

"Oh yes, and then deleted twitter and went to WhatsApp and left about a billion groups and then I went to Instagram, and went through who I followed, and unfollowed tons of people."

"Oh? Did I make the cut?"

Daniel tutts as if Max is being purposefully dense.

"Naturally Maxy. In fact, I sort of debated unfollowing everyone except you, but then figured you might've been pissed at me."

Max can't tell if Daniel is joking or not. He doesn't know which he wants it to be.

"So firstly I unfollowed a bunch of people I had met years ago at business deals and stuff, and then Craig and Rebecca from school because I never really liked them anyway and they definitely never liked me and then Zak because the vibes were Not It and then my high-school teacher who I definitely only ended up following on a dare and -"

"Zak," Max says, picking out the familiar name in the sea of chatter. "As in Zak Brown?"

Daniel hums. "Yeah, the vibes were Not It. And then I also unfollowed Fernando -"

"Alonso?" Max splutters out another laugh of disbelief. "What on earth did he do to you?"

"I don't like how he acts around you."

"Me?!" Max voice goes up an octave. "What? But he's always nice to me Daniel. I like him."

"I know Max, that's the point," Daniel says, and before Max can even begin to comprehend what he means, he's continuing. "And then also Richard, from McLaren because I swear he used to tell Zak everything I did and then Michael, and then Sam, this old hookup, and -"

"Michael," Max cuts in, sure he's mistaken, "as in ..."

"Yeah," Daniel says after a beat. "That Michael."

Max swallows. Michael has been a constant strain on their relationship, the fly in the otherwise smooth ointment. Max had told Daniel he wasn't good for him, he wasn't looking after him. That friendship and business rarely mixed, and that in this case, it had congealed into something of neither, a strange, interdependent relationship which drained them both.

Daniel had said Max hadn't understood it, hadn't gotten how much Michael helped him, how good it was to have a physico who was also his mate. Max replied by saying that as far as he was concerned, Michael was proving himself to be neither.

Jealousy. That was what Daniel had pinned to him, had washed all rationality away with. Max was jealous.

He remembers feeling like he had been slapped. Jealousy. Fucking jealousy.

He never mentioned Michael again.

"But," Max begins slowly, mind whirling. "You had lunch with him last week." Even though you never mentioned it, even though I had to find out through fans' blurry photos.

"Yeah," Daniel draws the syllable out. "But... the vibes were not immaculate."

"Right," Max says, hating how terse the single word sounds. And the vibes were fine when he encouraged you to do that fucked up intermittent fasting? When he recommended yoga and gym sessions instead of therapy?

"And then I unfollowed Nicky Latifi, because unfortunately, he's going to do a masters in London, and following him online will simply remind me of all the missed possibilities I had in the academic world," he goes on.

"Daniel," Max says, trying to force his mind to move on, Daniel has unfollowed Michael Daniel has unfollowed Michael. "You dropped out of school when you were seventeen. In the most loving of ways, I would hardly call you an up and coming scholar."

"Details, Maxy," he says, but then goes quiet, and so does Max. He opens his eyes. His room is painted in shadows, sunrise still distant. The trophies he won as a child are carefully displayed in neat rows, their plaques opaque with dust, now thick and heavy. He remembers winning them, young and already starving for more, remembers the weight of plastic, the way sugary pop soda dried sticky on his skin.

"I think you were right," Daniel says softly. Max nods, face pressed against his pillow.

"I mean about him. Michael."

"I know who you meant," Max murmurs.

"Okay good, because you're definitely not write about my academic prowess, I was one hundred percent on track to be this world's Stephen Hawkens."

Max laughs softly. "It's Hawking not Hawken."

"Once again Maxy, details."

There's another exhale of quiet between them, and outside Max hears the world beginning to rise. Birds waking, their whistles winding their way through the crack in his window.

"I miss you," he says softly, as if the words are barely permitted to be spoken aloud.

"I love you too Maxy," Daniel replies with ease. Then - "you should come. I think it would be nice. If you were here too."

"I think so too," Max says. The longing grows. The trophies are dusty on his shelf, forgotten. His feet hang off his childhood bed. Birds begin to sing.

"So will you?" Daniel persists. Max squeezes his eyes shut.

"I don't know. I do not think you would be saying this if you weren't off your head on pain meds," he tries to joke. His chest aches. Hollowed out, always wanting more than he's allowed.

"Of course I would," Daniel says confidently, even though he ends it with a yawn. "I anyways want you around."

Max keeps his eyes still tightly shut. He tucks his knees up, bringing them to his chest. When he was very young and his parents were still together, he'd do this. Curl up on the bed with his eyes squeezed closed. The door shut, their shouts muffled; as distant as the bird song is to him now.

"Maxy?"

His sister said the same. Maxy? Climbing on his bed, tugging at his arms. What are they talking about? Nothing, nothing, it doesn't matter.

"How's your wrist?" Max asks. He opens his eyes - the room has grown lighter, dawn finally creeping in.

"Good," Daniel says, already forgotten what he said. Like a butterfly, moving onto the next topic, nothing permanent. "Sore. I'm on some strong shit though." He laughs. It sounds so near.

Max imagines it. He could do it. Book the ticket to Spain. It wouldn't even be that bad. People know him and Daniel are mates, and mates visit each other in hospital. And that's if it even comes out, which it might not. Nobody has to know.

"I love you," he blurts out, cheeks warm. Daniel laughs again, soft and delighted.

"Good, because my right hand is currently out of action, so I might need help over the next few weeks with a few particular things."

Max laughs, cheeks warm. He's not being quiet any more. His family can probably hear him through the walls, just like he could hear his parents all those years ago.

He can imagine his sister asking him, echoing their childhood as she questions him on words she's grasped through walls. This time, though, he thinks he will tell her the truth.

"I've heard Spain is very beautiful at the end of August," he says.

Daniel hums, "I've heard something similar, Maxy."

Outside, birds sing. The dawn continues on, filling the emptiness of night.

[riddlerosehearts]

while my mind is still on the subject of transfem genderfluid taichi. i very recently got around to reading SSR family and my main takeaway after getting through all the backstage stories for it, and then especially after also reading citron's backstage story for devil maid's holiday, was this: