#not just the standard one most people use

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Thinking the unthinkable

On SEPTEMBER 24th, I'll be speaking IN PERSON at the BOSTON PUBLIC LIBRARY!

Time and again, I find myself thinking about radium suppositories: specifically, I get to thinking about the day that the consensus shifted from "radium suppositories are great" to "stop putting radioisotopes up your ass."

The thing is, people really liked radium-based quack remedies. They drank radium-infused water, smeared radium cream on their faces and bodies, and yes, rammed radium suppositories up their assholes:

https://maximumfun.org/episodes/sawbones/radium-girls/

The fact that this made whatever ailed you sicker didn't deter the radium true believers: if you're getting sicker, then you must need more radium.

When I think about the debate over radium, I imagine that the people who understood that radium was really bad for you must have run up against critics who told them they were being unreasonable. "You can't tell people to stop using radium. Tell them to use suppositories with less radium. Tell them to use them less frequently. But you can't just tell people, 'stop putting radium up your asshole.' They won't take you seriously."

About 20 years ago, I started pitching various institutions that reviewed consumer tech policy on the idea that they should reject any product that had DRM. After all, DRM didn't just restrict how you used a gadget today, it provided a facility for nonconsensually, irreversibly field-updating that gadget to add new restrictions tomorrow. How could a reviewer in good conscience say, "Go ahead and buy this device if you need this feature," if they knew that at any time in the future, the gadget's maker could take that feature away and leave the buyer with no recourse?

Here's the warning I (half-seriously) suggested magazines run alongside such products:

WARNING: THIS DEVICE’S FEATURES ARE SUBJECT TO REVOCATION WITHOUT NOTICE, ACCORDING TO TERMS SET OUT IN SECRET NEGOTIATIONS. YOUR INVESTMENT IS CONTINGENT ON THE GOODWILL OF THE WORLD’S MOST PARANOID, TECHNOPHOBIC ENTERTAINMENT EXECS. THIS DEVICE AND DEVICES LIKE IT ARE TYPICALLY USED TO CHARGE YOU FOR THINGS YOU USED TO GET FOR FREE — BE SURE TO FACTOR IN THE PRICE OF BUYING ALL YOUR MEDIA OVER AND OVER AGAIN. AT NO TIME IN HISTORY HAS ANY ENTERTAINMENT COMPANY GOTTEN A SWEET DEAL LIKE THIS FROM THE ELECTRONICS PEOPLE, BUT THIS TIME THEY’RE GETTING A TOTAL WALK. HERE, PUT THIS IN YOUR MOUTH, IT’LL MUFFLE YOUR WHIMPERS.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/08/playstationed/#tyler-james-hill

No one took me up on my offer. Over and over again, magazine editors, managers of nonprofit review outlets, and indie gadget reviewers told me that it was unrealistic to publish a roundup of, say, this year's portable music players with the recommendation, "Just don't buy any of these. None of them are fit for purpose."

In other words: No one wanted to publish, "The correct amount of radium to stuff up your asshole is zero."

But the correct amount of rectal radium for you to administer is "none" and the correct car for you to buy today is none of the cars:

https://foundation.mozilla.org/en/privacynotincluded/articles/its-official-cars-are-the-worst-product-category-we-have-ever-reviewed-for-privacy/

This isn't the first time the correct automotive recommendation was "don't buy any of these cars." Back before seatbelts came standard in cars, the correct car was "don't buy a car." Sometimes, the correct answer is "none of the above." Even if that makes you sound unserious, the alternative is that you counsel people to put radium up their asses in a bid to seem "reasonable."

Today, DRM-infected products are routinely downgraded and bricked:

https://www.theverge.com/2024/9/5/24236237/ftc-software-tethering-letter-consumer-reports-ifixit

Even when companies face public uproar over these disastrous decisions and vow to reverse them, they can't, because these downgrades are one way:

https://www.stereocheck.com/news/music/unfortunately-you-cant-revert-to-the-old-sonos-app-anymore/

That's bad enough when it's your smart speakers, but what about when the company bricks your wheelchair:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2022/06/when-drm-comes-your-wheelchair

Or your $100,000 exoskeleton:

https://paulickreport.com/news/people/paralyzed-jockey-michael-straight-wants-to-keep-walking-but-manufacturer-wont-repair-exoskeleton

The reality is that we're living at the end of a catastrophic experiment in deregulation and its handmaidens, corruption and regulatory capture, and there are lots of "normal" things that we just need to stop doing. Not do less of them – just stop.

Like, the correct amount of collusion between realtors representing sellers and realtors representing buyers is zero:

https://www.latimes.com/business/real-estate/story/2024-03-19/realtor-rules-just-changed-dramatically-heres-what-buyers-and-sellers-can-expect

We got that one right, but there's plenty more that we're still engaged in this pathetic, denialist bargaining over. What's the correct degree to which White House officials should cycle back into working at the industries they oversaw? Zero. How many times should such a person come back to work at the White House? Again: zero:

https://prospect.org/power/2024-09-19-next-administration-can-stop-ethics-scandals/

When the Biden admin dropped its executive order on ethics just hours after the inauguration, they trumpeted that it "went further than any other towards slowing the revolving door and limiting conflicts of interest while in office":

https://www.whitehouse.gov/briefing-room/presidential-actions/2021/01/20/executive-order-ethics-commitments-by-executive-branch-personnel/

And it did. But it was also full of loopholes, because banning these conflicts of interest altogether was viewed as politically unserious, so the correct amount of radium up the administration's asshole was set at non-zero. The result? Well, it's about what you'd expect:

https://therevolvingdoorproject.org/what-the-hell-is-anita-dunn-even-allowed-to-work-on/

Congress hasn't updated consumer privacy law since 1988, when it took the bold step of…banning video-store clerks from telling the newspapers which VHS cassettes you took home. Since then, a coalition of commercial surveillance companies and the cops and spies who treat their data-lakes as massive, off-the-books anaerobic lagoons of warrantless surveillance data has prevented the passage of any new privacy protections for Americans.

The result? Stalkers, creeps, spies (both governmental and corporate), identity thieves, spearphishers and other villainous scum are running wild, endangering every American's financial, physical and political wellbeing. The correct amount of commercial data-brokerage for America is zero:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/06/privacy-first/#but-not-just-privacy

In other words, we should order every data-broker, every tech giant, every consumer electronics company and app vendor to delete all their surveillance data. All of it. The correct amount of radium in that asshole is – as with every other orifice zero:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/07/revealed-preferences/#extinguish-v-improve

From the perspective of the radium pitchmen, the most shocking thing about the past four years has been antitrust enforcers – like Lina Khan, Rohit Chopra, and Jonathan Kanter – who refused to bargain about how much radium we needed to stick up our butts. Fearless of being branded as "unserious" and "unreasonable," they seriously, reasonably said the right amount is none, actually.

None. Which is why they're so mad at Khan and co. Which is why they're so bent on getting Kamala Harris to fire Khan – despite the fact that this would burn precious political capital in the senate. Some people just love the feeling they get from a radium suppository – especially the suppository salesmen:

https://prospect.org/politics/2024-09-19-lina-khan-doesnt-need-to-be-confirmed-again/

The paperback edition of The Lost Cause, my nationally bestselling, hopeful solarpunk novel is out this month!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/19/just-stop-putting-that-up-your-ass/#harm-reduction/a>

Image: Museum of the Health Sciences https://www.uab.edu/amhs/

[four-loose-screws]

Hi! I’ve seen people people say that Dimitri speaks in an informal rude manner in Japanese so him being super polite in English is weird changes his character a lot, but I’ve also seen people say the localization is just fine. Could you clear up please? Thank you!

This ask has been in my inbox forever, and I know other ENG/JP bilingual FE fans have weighed in on this topic before. But exploring the nuances of Japanese formal vs. casual speech is always super fun, so I want to share my own thoughts too. There's always a chance there will be more to learn with each new person's input on the same topic. Plus, I discovered some things even I didn't expect! So, I'll still offer everything I have to say!

First, I'll explain the full background this ask is referring to. Japanese has 2 major distinct speaking styles - casual and formal. I was taught to call the formal style "distal" - because it is more about respecting distance in social standing than being formal specifically. But formal is the more common term, so I tend to stick with saying formal most of the time.

The distinction between casual and formal is made with pronoun choice, word choice, and other factors as well, but the fastest way to differentiate the two is to look/ listen for the use of desu and masu at the end of someone's sentences. Formal uses them. Casual drops them. This concept is entirely foreign to English speakers!

Dimitri drops desu and masu most of the time. His "I pronoun" is also ore, and his "you pronoun" is omae - both casual, blunt, and masculine choices. But does speaking casually to most of the cast make him rude?

Short answer is... no, not at all! There's 2 major reasons for this.

Reason #1 - the rules for casual vs. formal speech are a bit different in reality vs. fiction:

Partially, Dimitri speaks casually because he is showing his personality. He's got all those traits most standard FE protagonists share - he's strong, straightforward, and wants to connect directly on a personal level with everyone he meets. He tries to convince several characters that they can speak casually with him, because he sees people as people, and doesn't want social status putting distance between them.

Fictional characters generally speak more in-line with their personality more often, rather than following the socially acceptable speaking rules of the real world. (Though don't get me wrong - casual real Japanese people will speak casually in more circumstances than the average Japanese person.) This is simply the style that Japanese writers largely choose. And I think it is one of the great benefits of Japanese - anyone can start to pick up on a character's personality archetype almost instantly, thanks to their speaking style!

Reason #2 - Dimitri is a prince, making him of high social rank:

Here's the second nuance to this - it is absolutely standard for a superior to talk to their subordinates in casual style.

In modern times, this is shown in the workplace. Bosses and those in other leadership positions will frequently speak casually with the staff in a lower-ranking position than them. The president of the office I now work at is Japanese, and he speaks very casually with me - I have to be formal in response though, because he's at the top!!

But in the past, this would have been a distinction made between lord/ royalty, and those beneath them. Which is the case that is relevant in Fire Emblem's setting.

Dimitri can also speak casually without coming off as rude, because he is one of the highest ranking people across all of Fodlan.

-

Okay, so that's the answer in broad strokes - but let's get a bit more nuanced, go down Dimitri's support partner list, and confirm whether or not he always speaks casually!

Group #1 - Dimitri and the other citizens of Faerghus (8 other Blue Lions + Gilbert)

Dimitri has a multi-layered relationship with all of the other 8 Blue Lions. They are citizens of the country he is a prince of, therefore he is ranked very highly in social standing above them. But they are also his friends, classmates, and later, war allies; placing them on the same social level in that regard. So the way they speak to him comes down to a little bit of column A - personality, and a little bit of column B - which aspect of their relationship with Dimitri they feel is the "main" one.

Gilbert is also here in this category, as another person from Faerghus.

Dedue: Dimitri speaks casually, Dedue speaks formally, as they have a lord/ servant relationship. Dimitri wants Dedue to be a very close friend to him though, and wants Dedue to speak casually with him - this is a major source of tension in their supports. In the end, being able to mutually speak casually with each other and be friends, is a place they may reach one day. With other characters, Dedue speaks casually.

Felix: As royalty above Felix's noble house, Dimitri speaks casually. Felix is Felix, so he speaks casually too. I imagine he sees Dimitri quite literally as more of a wild boar than a human being, much less royalty.

Ashe: Dimitri speaks casually, Ashe speaks formally. However, pretty much the whole point of their supports is Dimitri attempting to get Ashe to speak casually with him.. Ashe tries in earnest to switch, but in the end sticks with speaking formally, otherwise he feels too uncomfortable. His view of Dimitri as his prince is too strong for him to let go and speak casually.

Sylvain: Dimitri speaks casually, and Sylvain speaks casually more often, but actually switches to desu and masu more than once. When a relationship is "in-between" higher/lower social standing and friendship, it's not uncommon for at least one person to switch back and forth between casual and polite speech, depending on which side of the relationship they are appealing to more at the moment. This happens in real life too as people shift from strangers, coworkers, etc. to friends.

Mercedes: They both speak casually. In Mercedes' case, I think she's speaks more in-line with her personality rather than paying attention to social status.

Annette: Both speak casually, but Annette is well aware that there's something a little wrong with that - her father would never let her get away with it if he knew!

Ingrid: Dimitri speaks casually, Ingrid speaks formally. But I think Ingrid speaks formally with everyone.

Gilbert: As you can probably guess based on my comments in Dimitri and Annette's analysis, her father most certainly speaks formally with Dimitri! He is very formal and takes social heirarchy very seriously. Dimitri, as the prince above him in social status, speaks casually.

Group #2 - The other characters at the monastary:

Since the remaining characters are not from Faerghus, Dimitri is not their prince. They'll be more likely to view him through the lens of a different relationship than royalty/ subject.

Catherine is originally from Faerghus yes, but she has cut her ties from her homeland completely to serve Rhea, so she fits into this group now.

Raphael: Both speak casually. I think Raphael treats everyone like a life-long friend!! He at least attaches san or sensei (teacher) to the names of his instructors, but that's about it for formal language for him.

Marianne: Dimitri speaks casually. Marianne speaks formally, as she does with everyone. I think she even attaches san to everyone's name, conveying how much she keeps her distance from people, trying not to form close relationships.

Flayn: Dimitri speaks casually. Flayn speaks formally, as I think she does with everyone.

Hapi: Both speak casually. I think Hapi speaks casually with everyone.

Alois: Now *here's* where things get interesting! At this point, I really thought I would discover that Dimitri speaks casually with everyone. But alas, he does NOT! Dimitri speaks formally with Alois, while Alois speaks casually to him. Why? Well, while Dimitri is a prince, he's also a student at Garreg Mach (in Part 1 of course). In this way, he is below all Garreg Mach staff and professors in social standing. So it makes perfect sense that he'd speak formally and Alois would be casual in this case.

Catherine: Same situation as Dimitri and Alois - as someone who serves as an instructor at Garreg Mach, all students like Dimitri are below her in status at the monastary. So Dimitri speaks formally, and she speaks casually.

Byleth: I left Byleth for last, because while Byleth is a professor at the monastary... Dimitri speaks casually with them. I imagine this has more to do with Byleth being the self insert than anything. Everyone bonds to Byleth on a deep level faster than magnets stick together.

And that's all I can think of to say for now! This is a super fun example of how nuanced Japanese's casual vs. formal language can get, and showcases one of the many reasons why Japanese has such a high barrier of entry for anyone learning it - including young native speakers! You don't get all this desu and masu stuff, until finally you just do.

Let me know if I missed anything, or if anyone has any follow up comments to make!

I apologize it took me so long to respond to this one! Thank you anon, and all readers, for waiting! I hope it helped explain even more of the trickier nuances of Japanese.

[sirfrogsworth]

Grampa's Antique Fan (2015 vs 2024 Edit)

As a young man, after coming home from the Second World War, my grampa got a job as an electrician for Emerson Electric. He didn't work on the actual electrical products. He just maintained the electrical systems that power the tools to make electrical components.

It was a "I heard you need electricity for your electricity" type deals.

The company was founded in 1890 in nearby Ferguson, Missouri by John Wesley Emerson. He was a Union commander in the Civil War and a lawyer and then a judge and then an author and then a historian... so he was clearly qualified to run one of the first electronics companies. (This is currently referred to as the "Law of Elon".)

Emerson (the company, not the dude) specialized in electric motors and was the first to stick their motors in a fan and sell them.

As you can see by the 4 protective fan guard loopies, these were very safe for kids to be around.

I mean, the biggest thing you could shove in there is a baby arm, which is the least important part of a baby. No baby heads were chopped off—which was the bar for consumer safety during that era.

Fans are rated by the volume of air they can push over a period of time and your average box fan can push about 1400 cubic feet per minute or "CFM". When this Emerson (the fan, not the dude) was produced they actually used "CCH" or cubic cubits per hour. Emerson (the dude) loved using odd standards of measurement much to the chagrin of his engineers.

Due to the small surface area, weak angle of attack, and heavy metal blades, this electronic beast could only push a baker's dozen cubic cubits per baker's hour—which was a confusing metric of time because people were very superstitious and they refused to put the 13 on the baker's clocks. They just left a mysterious blank void after the 12 and apparently several people had existential crises during the baker's hour. Some were institutionalized for a rare condition called Time Delirium.

Thankfully Emerson Electric was able to provide the electroshock therapy devices that cured several patients. This was achieved by erasing the memory of the traumatic time delirium events along with a few other unimportant details like what they did last Tuesday and their mother's name and one engineering degree that the guy wasn't even using.

My dad actually got the fan working and let me tell you... that bad boy could really work up a gentle breeze...

...if you stood behind it and blew.

And that fine American-made electric fan motor was just as quiet as a leaf blower on Saturday morning.

Over the last century, Emerson was bought and sold and bought and sold.

And bought and sold and bought and sold.

Was that 7?

Eh, close enough. We'll call it a baker's 7.

They changed their product line countless times over their 130+ years of existence. After fans they pivoted and made electric meat grinders. To this day, no one know what inspired that decision.

Currently, they make radar avionics and are majority-owned by the private equity firm, Blackstone. Which is a totally non-evil sounding name they chose for their company-eating empire. Please ignore that the CEO was one of Trump's policy strategists. This is a non-evil company with a non-evil name run by non-evil people, okay?

Despite Emerson Electric having to settle a baker's gross of lawsuits involving a few lightly scalp'd babies, they maintain a Fortune 500 status and are still headquartered in Ferguson.

They occupy one of the most boring ass buildings ever constructed.

Just rectangles all the way down.

That architect told every angle to get rect.

Of course, I forgot all of this cool history and sold this fan in the estate auction. I suppose it is a good thing I got a nice photograph to help assuage my current feelings of guilt. I mean, it is not baby scalping, time delirium guilt—but I would feel better if I knew my gramp-gramp's fan was in a good home with 0 babies.

[merwgue]

Rhysand is often portrayed as this perfect, morally grey ruler, but when you take a closer look at his actions, it's obvious how messed up he really is. Let’s break down the so-called “benevolent” High Lord of the Night Court.

1. The Hewn City – The King of Torture? Rhysand's treatment of the people in Hewn City is straight-up barbaric. The way he holds power over them isn’t out of necessity or to “protect” them from worse rulers—it’s control through fear and violence. He tortures them, plays with their lives, and enjoys maintaining his iron grip on them. It's almost like he uses them as his personal stress toys. Is that really the hallmark of a just ruler? Sure, Hewn City isn’t full of saints, but for Rhys to stand on his high horse and act like he's saving everyone while still torturing his subjects? Hypocrisy at its finest.

2. Rhysand and Feyre – Let’s Talk About Consent Let’s not forget that he literally assaulted Feyre Under the Mountain. I don’t care how anyone tries to frame it as him “saving her” from Amarantha—there’s no excuse for the way he took away her agency. Rhys manipulated her, forced her into wearing those skimpy outfits, and paraded her around for his entertainment. All while pretending it was for the greater good. It's pretty damn disgusting how that gets brushed under the rug like it was some noble sacrifice when in reality, he robbed Feyre of her choices.

3. Planning to Execute Nesta – The Line Between Justice and Control Rhysand and his inner circle legit planned to execute Nesta, all because she didn’t fall in line. Nesta had her faults—hell, a lot of them—but threatening her life because she didn't act the way Rhys wanted? That's not justice; that's manipulation and control at its core. He wasn't trying to protect anyone. He was pissed that he couldn't control her, that she wasn't another cog in his perfect little machine of Night Court harmony.

4. Tamlin – Kicking a Man While He’s Down Say what you will about Tamlin, but there’s no denying that Rhysand completely overstepped every boundary when it came to him. The Night Court loves to preach about freedom, but Rhys had no problem strutting into Tamlin’s land, throwing it in his face, and making an already broken man feel like utter shit. There’s a difference between defending your own and downright antagonizing someone who’s in the depths of depression. At one point, he basically told Tamlin to end his own life. What kind of "savior" talks like that to someone who's clearly struggling? It's downright cruel.

5. The Night Court – A Dictatorship Wrapped in Pretty Words Rhysand's Night Court is sold to everyone as this place of freedom, where people can be who they truly are—but at what cost? If you cross Rhys or don’t fall in line with his vision, you either face his wrath, his torture, or his manipulation. He's not running a court; he's running a dictatorship where everything is fine as long as it aligns with his master plan. The fact that he keeps calling himself the “most powerful High Lord in history” just feeds into that massive god complex he has. The ego on this guy is unbelievable.

6. Double Standards – The Morality of Convenience Rhys preaches about freedom and respect, but he only seems to extend that to people he deems worthy. If you’re in his circle or someone he cares about, great—you get all the privileges. If not? Well, tough luck. He’ll trample over your land, threaten your life, or torture you into submission. The cherry on top? Everyone around him acts like he’s the greatest thing to happen to Prythian, and the fandom just eats it up.

So, yeah. Rhysand is fucked up. He’s not just morally grey—he’s power-hungry, manipulative, and borderline sadistic. His version of “ruling” the Night Court is as hypocritical as it gets. Benevolent High Lord? More like the king of self-righteous cruelty.

7. Locking Up Nesta – Rhysand’s Tamlin Moment Remember how everyone vilified Tamlin for locking Feyre up “for her own safety”? Sure, it was messed up, but the narrative painted him as this controlling, possessive villain because of it. Now, fast forward to Rhysand, who literally does the same thing to Nesta. She’s spiraling, yes, but instead of finding her real help or giving her space to heal, he decides to trap her in the House of Wind like a damn prisoner. He takes away her freedom, isolates her from the outside world, and forces her into a situation she clearly doesn’t want. How is that any different from what Tamlin did?

But here’s the kicker: Rhysand gets praised for it. Why? Because he’s Rhysand, the supposed hero, and everything he does is always “for the greater good,” right? It’s utter bullshit. He used the same controlling tactics on Nesta that Tamlin used on Feyre, but the fandom acts like he was being this saintly, tough-love older brother. What he did was textbook manipulation, stripping away Nesta’s autonomy because she didn’t fit into his perfect vision of what recovery should look like.

8. Forcing Recovery on Nesta – Ignoring Trauma Let’s not sugarcoat this: Rhysand locked up a woman who was using drinking as a coping mechanism and basically said, “Tough luck, you’re staying here until you fix yourself.” That's not helping; that’s punishing someone for their trauma. Nesta was in pain, lashing out and struggling to deal with what happened to her. Did she need help? Absolutely. But instead of offering her real emotional support, Rhys just forced her into a recovery program that suited his standards and timeline, not hers.

What makes this even worse is that Nesta was self-harming through drinking, and instead of addressing the root cause of her pain, Rhysand and his inner circle chose to control her like she was a problem that needed to be fixed, not a person who needed to be understood. There’s nothing noble about that.

9. Rhysand’s Hypocrisy – Tamlin vs. Himself This is where Rhysand’s hypocrisy really shines. He condemned Tamlin for being controlling, and Feyre (rightfully) left that toxic environment. But Rhys turns around and does the same thing to Nesta, and instead of being held accountable for it, he gets celebrated for “taking action.” How does that even make sense? It's such a double standard that it's almost laughable. Tamlin’s actions were wrong, but Rhysand’s were just as bad, if not worse, because he knew better. He knew what it felt like to be controlled, yet he did it anyway.

10. Stop Giving Rhys a Pass People need to stop giving Rhysand a pass for his behavior. He gets away with literal torture, manipulation, locking people up, and trampling over others' boundaries because he’s good at hiding it behind the facade of “protecting his court.” He’s not the hero people make him out to be. He’s just as flawed and fucked up as the people he claims to be better than.

At the end of the day, locking someone up—whether it’s Feyre in the Spring Court or Nesta in the House of Wind—is a violation of their autonomy. Rhysand isn't some hero swooping in to save the day. He's a controlling ruler who just happens to be good at spinning the narrative in his favor.

[ryuzakemo128]

Grim Reaper Part Seven

Pairing: Poly 141 x female reader / Female reader/ You x Her mental health x König

Content Warning: Bloodshed, fight between a man and a woman, tech talk, injuries, future implications of murder on the horizon. Use of your nickname for König.

Words: 2628

Masterlist - Prequel - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven

Supernatural AU - Poem

Credit for Dividers: @cafekitsune + @strangergraphics

Summary: “Who says I was going down to their level? When that level I go to is clearly lower?”

Just because you can, it doesn’t always mean you should.

Sometimes it better to walk away.

Letting things lie.

Leaving them in the shadow of what could have happened if you wanted to act upon your urge to be rid of them.

Your fingers trail along the mask. An incredible gift in your eyes. The sleek material cool beneath your fingers, the curves forming over your face.

As if the material itself bonded together with your face, the digital HUD flickering to life with a gentle hum, casting a soft glow in the otherwise pitch-black room.

Simon took a tentative step towards you. He looked at it, he said, "It's a beauty," he whispered with a hint of envy.

"Lightweight, customisable, and undetectable by most standard security systems, protects my face from dust, debris, and potentially harmful airborne particles." you described part of it.

Other functions of your mask were less visible but equally important. It had a built-in respirator allowed you to breathe without revealing your position through foggy breath in cold environments or leaving a trail in smoke-filled rooms.

The mask's indented 'teeth' served as a silent venting system for the excess heat your body produced during intense combat. It was a marvel of modern warfare technology, and it complemented your lethal skill set like a second skin.

You don’t know when the chatter around started to grate on your ears and eat away at your nerves. Part of you thinks it was because of a certain part of you being denied sustenance. Thrill of a fight itching to be satiated.

Itching. Aching. Burning in the bottom of your stomach like a meal denied.

“We are all doomed. We are not special. None of us are special. We live on a tiny rock floating amongst other tiny space rocks. To imply we are special is to deny the truth. You are not special, just as I am not special.”

You were tired of the excuses. You were tired of them. “You are mediocre at best and tolerable at worst. I don’t care about you or anyone else here. Your existence is finite.”

“You are mediocre at everything I have seen you do.” You repeated with a narrowed glare. “Everything you are. It could and would be forgotten as long as your superiors benefit from it.”

“You don’t get to keep something someone else owns. Not ever. I don’t need a ‘saviour’ stop implying that I need one.” You murmured, your voice as fierce as a cat's growl. Your hold on his throat base stayed firm, as relentless as desert sands.

Despite your injury, you retaliated fiercely when threatened sufficiently. The cut deep enough to insert at least three fingers. You were always considered difficult to your peers. You didn't care about their opinion as much as they believed.

Imagine talking about someone’s trauma and labelling them as the ‘difficult one’ pathetic morons can’t consider the fact trauma changes people.

If they knew how trauma worked, they wouldn’t be flapping their pathetic mouths so much.

They need to learn to shut the fuck up.

Projecting their morals onto others like they’re the only people in the world.

Shut the fuck up. Most of you are more likely to have the privilege to never go through it.

Stupid pathetic moronic children who can only think of themselves first.

I see Simon receive the same treatment by women who label him the ‘difficult one’. It makes me want to smack the shit out of all of them.

Assault of any kind should not be tolerated. They need to shut the fuck up before I make them shut up.

I am tired of them. I am sick of their justifications of labels on people.

Shut the fuck up, I hate you all.

Trauma isn’t something you belittle. Yet you seem to have fun in doing just that. I hope you die and reach a depth of hell most won’t be able to reach.

It is what you deserve. It is what I want you to have. Now more than ever.

You think you snapped when it happened. Not that you aimed for a psychological snap any time, sooner or later. Yet the whispers and murmurs grated on your nerved like nails on a chalkboard. Call me pathetic and I will give you death.

I will give you a death even your so called god will not look away.

Your enemies cannot reach you. Sleep well, the clock ticks on.

The stars do not know you, prepare, they’ll whisper you your fate.

They look at you and wonder how you are even alive. Fear mixed with disgust. You feel it. You see it. They keep you because otherwise you would have been a darker shell of yourself.

He pushed you far enough to get here. Yet it caused you to laugh. To giggle. The blood gushing from your nose, a bit from your mouth, you laugh. You laugh because you know it’s all a game to them. A game of fear and power. And in that moment, you had all the power. You knew because the stars had already whispered to you, and they had never lied.

"An itty bitty knife? Are you fucking serious?" you taunted him.

The man snarled back a response, "This isn't a game, bitch," as he raised the knife, ready to strike fear into your heart.

“Are you scared? Are you going to run crying to your superiors, little bitch?” you taunted relentlessly. “Gonna cry now?”

A beast circling its wounded prey, every nip, every bite and every taunt. You became more beast than human when your anger wound-up tighter than a coiled snake. Posed and poised to strike. His eyes widened with fear, his breaths shallow, and his smugness replaced with a desperate plea for mercy.

Simon intervened, trapping you inside a headlock, the guy silently murmured and thanked for his timely intervention. He got off lightly in your opinion. Though getting stabbed by a butterfly knife put a damper on things.

"You're the one who should be scared." Simon's voice was cold and firm as he held you back, his grip tight but not painful. "You're better than this. Don't let them bring you down to their level."

“Who says I was going down to their level? When that level I go to is clearly lower?” you growled like a feral creature, clawing at Simon’s arms as he held you firmly in his grasp. His eyes, a mix of concern and irritation, searched yours for any hint of sanity left in the rage-filled maelstrom.

“We need him alive for intel," Simon reminded you, his tone still unyielding. You knew he was right, but the desire to rip the man’s throat out was a hunger that demanded satiation.

“Tell him that. The fucker stabbed me not you.” You jerked your chin towards the man cowering on the floor, trying to push Simon away, but his grip was like steel bars.

You knew he was right, but the adrenaline and anger pumping through your veins made it hard to think rationally.

You felt the warmth of the blood trickling down from your nose, mixing with the saliva on your teeth. It tasted metallic, a flavor you had become unfortunately accustomed to.

“Calm down,” Simon whispered in your ear, his grip on your arms tightening. “Remember who you are. Remember why we're here. And we'll get the stab wound looked at, I promise.”

“I'm not calming down for his sake.” You reminded him.

“No,” Simon's voice was low and controlled, “You're calming down for ours. We need you focused.”

You let out a breath, trying to regulate your breathing, which Simon knew was a sign that you were listening to him. You nodded slightly, allowing him to loosen his grip.

The room fell silent, except for the distant sound of gunfire outside the abandoned warehouse. The man on the floor was trembling, his eyes darting between you and the knife clutched in his hand.

Soap walked in moments after the whole debacle, his eyes scanning the scene before his gaze settled on the trembling man. “Well, well, look what we have here. A little stabbing party and I missed the invite,” he quipped, a smirk playing on his lips. He knelt down, pulling the knife from the man’s shaking hand with ease. “Looks like you’ve had enough fun for one night.”

You were about to leave the rest to Simon and Soap when Soap dragged you out instead, muttering things about not letting the bloodlust get to you. “I could have walked outside you know?” you muttered to him.

“You're a liability like this,” he shot back.

“Like what? Stabbed?” you countered.

Soap's smirk grew wider, “Exactly. Now, let’s get that wound patched up before you go full on Wolverine on us.”

“The animal or the mutant?” you snorted. “My life would be easier if it was the mutant. He heals instantly. Don't roll your eyes at me. I read so many X-Men comics growing up.”

Soap chuckled despite the gravity of the situation, his Scottish accent thick with sarcasm. “Ah, so you’re telling me you wish for the gift of healing rather than the rage of the beast?” He led you to a makeshift medical station set up in the corner of the warehouse, the harsh lighting revealing the stark contrast of the crimson blood against your pale skin.

“I mean that would just come with the healing right? With how Wolverine is, I wouldn’t mind the rage as much. The claws would be a bonus.” you quipped.

Soap shook his head, his amusement clear despite the seriousness of the situation. He took a deep breath, his eyes focused on the wound, “Well, we’ve got bandages, not adamantium, but it’ll have to do for now.”

Simon glared at the comment made from a bystander calling you cute when you are clearly not. You had wanted to be called it when you weren’t bloodied with another person’s blood on your uniform and your knuckles.

Once you were isolated, Price looked at you from the sidelines, his expression unreadable. As you let your aggression out on a punching bag. The smacking of gloves against leather in the background as they continued to speak about the fight between you and a guy who happened to be taunting Simon.

It grated on you enough to lash out. Ending in bloodshed. Despite these fights being rare, they are bloody enough for people to remember them. You felt the weight of Price’s gaze, his silent disapproval heavy in the air. He couldn't be upset with you entirely as you don't escalate them as much as people would love to believe.

“You okay?” he finally spoke, his tone flat.

“If you're angry with me just say so.” you told Price.

Price took a drag of his cigar, his eyes never leaving yours, “I'm not angry with you.” He said, “I'm just concerned. This isn't the first time you've lost it like that.”

“And it's not the first time they escalated it either. But you don't see that part because by the time you're here. They're on the ground and I'm already stabbed.” you reminded him. “Lecture them before you lecture me.”

Price's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he took a step closer, his voice dropping to a serious whisper, “Look, I know you've been through a lot, but we need you sharp. We can't afford any more… incidents like this. Do you understand?”

“How about you tell them to keep their hands to themself?” you countered.

Price sighed, his gaze flickering to the side, “It’s not that simple.”

“Yes it is. Its called keep your hands to yourself. Don't touch someone without their consent.” you reminded him.

Price knew you had a point, but the situation was more complicated than that. He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently touch your shoulder. “I’ll handle it. But you need to control your temper. We're in a war zone, not a playground. If we don’t keep our heads on straight, we're all going to end up dead. Or worse, captured.”

Like the god Hades, you will never been seen as anything other than a monster of your own creation. Maintaining a balance most will never see. Passive. Altruistic. A creature made by whims and wants of others. A creature made and remade repeatedly.

A story retold to fit the whims and wants of those they want to appeal to. Hades went from passive to a main villain because of the lack of media literacy to think clearly. Whittling down his wife to a lost lamb in distress. When she is in fact his queen with strengths of her own.

A falsehood created by those who would rather see their version of a tale prevail than to see a man be gentle with his wife. Better to dehumanise the king of the underworld than to think otherwise.

They don’t seem to understand. Evil has no shading. Darkness does not equate to evil, and living in the shade of blissful ignorance will not save you.

Just as fire causes destruction. It also has a hand in creating life.

Neither side is good. Neither is side is bad. Both sides would have been considered good and great given the angle someone would take. Both sides can be considered a great evil. No matter what happens from this point forward. You will always be referred to as the name you are given. No matter how tainted you feel about yourself.

They will still refer to you by this name. Now, today and tomorrow.

As Elysium and Tartarus are both heaven and hell. It is both. It will always be both.

Choosing to believe one version of a tale over the other reeks of bias.

Much like Hades. You don’t have to go to them. People will come to their own end when they come to you. A fruitless endeavour to ever hope they could live to see tomorrow if they were your target. They are good as dead.

You are the least evil amongst them. It also didn’t mean you are harmless like a pup as much some might think.

“They will all come to me eventually. Regardless of how they feel on the matter.” You muttered. Mostly to yourself than to Simon.

Simon decided to interject, his deep British accent breaking through your deep meditated rhythm. The punches against the bag hard enough to shake through a concrete wall. Strong enough to go through a wall made of wood. You wore specialised earphones to block out background noise.

Now all there is left of you there are memories. It’s been a month since your kidnapping, entering into a second month now. They turned to your private thoughts of your journal in the hope they would find you sometime soon. Hoping König would not kill you out of boredom of you.

People fear death and fawn over theatrics.

People hate you because you represent the end of life.

Death. Grim Reaper.

Retellings will tell them you took them. Kidnapped them.

Even though your intentions were revealed to them and them alone.

Behind closed doors.

Twisting your words against your memory.

Even when your intentions were not what they will assume.

They mix up benevolent with kindness. You will show them, won’t you Mäuschen?

You will show them what it means to evoke the name of death upon their lips, right Maus?

The walls of your old bedroom, no longer the same as they once were. Not like you cared now. It was a moment of another time. Inside a lifetime, you thought you had all to yourself. Fleeting, as they were, finite. You were glad they were gone. As you were about to something so heinous. Even your mother would have disowned you.

No. She isn’t here anymore. She can not save you. No one outside this room can save you apart from yourself.

Rely on your instincts.

“What’s the matter, lamb? Are you scared?” You cooed into his ear. A plan forming in the back of your mind. If this was the game, he set up. He should be prepared for you to win it.

Fair is fair after all.

What is his will become yours.

What is yours will never be his again.

[slugtranslation-hypmic]

Hihi slug, I love your work, and thanks for everything!! Since Matenro season is nearly upon us, I was wondering if we could get your opinion on the solo snippets🤞🤞

Matenro's new solo previews are SO GOOD, what do you think of them?

Thank you both for notifying me about them! Taking a look now...

(The album is probably already out now, but... better late than never...)

Jakurai's A Majestic Figure

Title note: 4-kanji compounds are like the SAT vocab words of Japanese; they're not super common in everyday speech and can evoke a literary or sophisticated feeling. This one is...interesting. To the best of my knowledge, it isn't a standard compound (I'm also not getting any hits when I Google it) and I wonder if that's significant. It's just two words strung together to make the appearance of fanciness, perhaps. I couldn't say for certain. At any rate, both 威風 and (especially) 颯爽 describe a majestic, often captivating appearance. This isn't to say that such qualities of dignity or majesty aren't real, but I definitely feel like both terms are defining a subject from an outside perspective. These aren't terms I would ever expect someone to describe themselves with, which makes the song title sound like it's an outside observer commenting on Jakurai instead of Jakurai talking about himself. We see this happen a lot in Hypmic, with people putting Jakurai on pedestals or Jakurai struggling to see himself as the same grand figure others perceive him as. As a result, I wrote the song title as "A Majestic Figure" to emphasize the appearance of majesty, whereas the character of the figure is unknown. Anyway, let's dive in and see what this is all about.

(10 seconds in) Vibing with these instrumentals

(19 seconds in) Not vibing with these "ah"s... but we can't have everything in life

(43 seconds in) I'm a little too tired to fully keep up (I'll look up the lyrics when I'm done) but I REALLY like the urgency in the delivery, which is so at odds with the flowing, dignified background music. In JPN fiction as a whole, flusteredness/desperation is contrasted with calmness as a synonym for imperfection and perfection. Jakurai is, honestly, really kind of a desperate character...yet one that appears outwardly calm/perfect to most of the rest of the cast, so it's interesting that we get to see his desperate nature on full display right at the start of the song.

(1:26 in) Hand motif mentioned *Cinemasins ding* (of

(End) Thank you uta-net for having the lyrics up already; ily. Let's see now... Interesting. I'll have to read them again in more depth later, but it looks like a call to forgive past wounds and seek out a better, less painful way of existence--in a societal sense, a religious (as in like, ascending or becoming enlightened) sense, and a personal sense. All great things to see Jakurai expressing. Again, it's interesting to see Jakurai expressing this with such urgency, even if these are things we know he really, really cares about. That coupled with the background music seems to match a bit in the lyrics that says "And [to end war within society, paraphrased] I take grand, dignified action mixed with the discord and noise of Shinjuku, a samsara spiral of cacophonous echoes." Mixing the stately and the chaotic, the "imperfect" and the "perfect." Really interesting stuff!

Hifumi's The Beginning of the Last Song

Title note: "Last Song" is English and written in katakana, which is a sharp contrast to the style of Jakurai's title. Creates a much younger and casual feel appropriate for Hifumi. Not much else to say here, so let's jump in.

(10 seconds in) Modern indie pop song on the radio feel. I'm not a fan of autotune in general so I'm not in love with this, but I'm hopeful it'll pick up soon.

(22 seconds in) I listen to so much "soft hiphop" (for lack of a better term) during work that my brain instantly catapulted itself into work mode and stopped paying any attention to the words. Coffee mug? Check. Emails? Check. Anxiety? Check. Let me rewind and listen to this properly.

(32 seconds in but for real this time) So far, very Hifumi. Opening verse has some fun figurative language but essentially says Hifumi's suit is pure courage he dons like a suit of armor. In doing so, it masks him and makes him become like a whole other person. From there, he switches to addressing a listener: "I want to soothe your mental wounds. I want to change your frown into a smile. I won't let go of your hands, and no, I'm not doing this for a reward." It's something that Hifumi should be saying to himself (something Hifumi wants to hear, maybe?) and yet he says "To [Host!]me, this is happiness."

(59 seconds in) Hmm... I was going to say this song feels sad to me, because all these positive messages of "Keep going! You're safe now!" are framed as being directed at other people, and I was like..."Hifumi, who's going to say that to you? Who's going to help you feel that way?" but then the line "You made me realize I'm not alone" radically flips the framing so that it DOES become things Hifumi is saying to himself, too. How nice. :) I would not want to translate this, personally... Haha it's using the vagueness of Japanese grammar and lyrical conventions to great effect, but I don't feel comfortable touching that personally.

(1:02) Hell yeah, belt that shit, homie

(1:32) So it's a last song in the sense that it's a farewell or the final song of his old self. Now he's the new, healing Hifumi. We love to see it 10/10 bravo. The song is also a happy, heartfelt thank you to the unspoken listeners (presumably Matenrou) who helped him feel less alone. That's cute! I like it. I probably shouldn't go here, but I find it intriguing how the vagueness of listeners is utilized. The first time the listeners are addressed, the language is...if not borderline romantic, pathos-filled to the point where it's definitely evocative of his host job (hence why he's not seeking compensation for handholding, an often romantic gesture). Yet it's borderline enough that it wouldn't be inappropriate to imagine it being addressed to Matenrou instead of his patrons. Hahaha. Again, another reason I don't want to go near this one.

(Overall) I like it! A nice ballad for Hifumi.

Doppo's Andante

(5 seconds in) For a song called Andante, this has a faster tempo than at least one other song on this album lol. But it's much less frenetic than Doppo's other solos, so there's that, I guess.

(7 seconds in) This delivery is giving me anime ending made by a 2010s rock band vibes lol.

(14 seconds in) Damn there's a baller line here that I'm stumped on how to convey in Eng in a way that's both baller and sensical. Meaning wise, it's like "I want to take back the things I shouldn't have said and give them as a present to you" and in figurative language it's like "Once, I used to fire words into the air [speak things in anger or carelessly]. Now, I want to gather them up [esp. like a bouquet of flowers] after their flight and use them to decorate you [again, like flowers or like a piece of jewelry--it's a positive connotation]" Pop off, Doppo

(40 seconds in) Oh this is killer and also going to need some major explaining. Doppo's name is literally "he who walks alone" which is usually considered a positive thing--someone who "walks the path of life" alone would have gotten there by outstripping the rest of the pack. In Doppo's case, though, this is a negative thing. I think it's not as obvious to Eng-only fans, and I know I didn't really think about it for a long time myself, but Doppo considers himself a "loser" bc he didn't follow a conventional life path. It's considered atypical to switch employers, especially very early on in one's career, as he did when he stood up for Hifumi and got himself fired at his first job. Part of why he puts up with shitty treatment at EL Medical is because it's one of the few places that would hire someone who switched employers at such a young age. (Sidebar: My (probably flawed, as I don't live in Japan) impression is that this is becoming less and less of a thing as time goes on and the economy goes to shit, but I think it's the self-stigma more than anything else that's affecting Doppo. To me, it feel similar to the societal pressures in the US to attend and graduate from a four-year college. Plenty of people don't for all sorts of reasons, but because that's so ingrained as the default life story for Americans in a lot of communities, Doppo's dealing with the kind of disappointment and self-hatred someone who dropped out before getting a four year degree might feel.) Doppo beats himself up about that a lot, but here we get that lovely line of "In the waves of people (hitonami) passing all around me, I no longer see anyone who looks like me. It's a shame, because I always wanted to be just like everyone else (hitonami)." Outside of that beautiful wordplay on hitonami, we're also treated to the figurative language of hitonami being literally "in line with others." Doppo, a character who walks through life alone, wanted to walk through life at the same pace/reaching the same milestones at the same time as everyone else.

(1:04 in) "Life is a tightrope act; it's like walking a balance beam [lit. "average beam" aka a beam where everything is averaged/balanced]. In a country where not everything can be average (narasarenai) and where even if the things that [I] can accomplish (narasareru) don't matter [in the eyes of society], sometimes the sounds I want to make don't come out right (narasarenai). When that happens, I can call myself pitiful--or I can feel the breathing of the beautiful flowerbed that is this city, and when someone's humming under their breath disturbs that short break [lit. breath], I ask them 'So, what is this happiness thing anyway?'" I would rather die than TL this song but I'm LOVING the creativity and depth of the lyrics.

(1:27) WILD! FUCKING! CHEERING!!! "You fake smiles in a mirror to make other people happy and call it love. It's a form of hypnosis, and I've made a go of falling under its spell because I just want to be equals [on par with, balanced], and so if you and I can walk these crowded streets together, then I think I don't mind as much that I'm always walking alone." THE GROWTH! THE GROWTH!!!!

Damn, this album's lyrics go hard. What a feast.

[unripemelons64]

I just pulled off, the wildest move, In Baldur's Gate 3, EVER. This just cements my belief that Astarion is the most OP character in my squad. Hands down, I'm not lying. Bro is carrying my mismanaged team.

But let me start from the beginning. I was doing quests. And it just so happened that I needed to slay some goblin leaders. And me, not liking combat that I know for sure I would lose, and liking to oppose every instruction given, I had to find a roundabout way of killing them.

So i stealth the first one, the second one I needed to keep alive, but that I mostly did normal combat style, since there weren't too many enemies, and I had a fun strategy (Tav, Astarion, Gale as backup and Karlach, as what I like to call the strong characters, the meat shield). Then came... the one. That one bastard that aggros the whole damn goblin settlement.

After a long, long hours of, trying to first use void bulbs to suck him into a hole in the ground, I dropped off some loot to other characters, grabbed some explosive barrels from another room, painfully slowly dragged them over and set them around, then climbed back to the rafters and finally blew him up and teleported away before they could aggro on me. And it worked.

But, people who play this game, from what I've seen, know this tactic. It's standard, so that's not the crazy part. It's what happens after

Because you see... I forgot that I left the druid that I needed there. In the basement. With a horde of angry goblins waiting for me. (No seriously, who made that ruins? Who made the goblins so hard to beat? I'M ON NORMAL DIFFICULTY DAMMIT-)

Anyway, yeah, I kinda had to get back in. But you know, I'm not fighting all of them, because it's not fun (I'll get their asses once my party has higher level, you'll see…) Thankfully, I quite like stealth, so that would be fun! And fun it was! (And I don't feel bad about save scumming. They gave me the save button, so I will use it!) I made Shadowheart give Astarion a bonus sneak buff and sent my boy off. Also thankfully, my perfectionist collector brain made me explore most of the place, so I knew how to get around. I question how the goblins didn't hear the grown man jump down with the loudest thud known to man, but I'll take it. Eventually he ended up over the main door, so I went in... ... Yes, I opened the door from above. Game logic lol-

The real fun began inside. Because it was literally Astarion walking in, and every goblin in a nine-mile radius collectively turning their heads at the same time. I'm sorry, my boy, but I think there was no sneaking out of this one... But you underestimate how much I didn't want to deal with combat and sneaking the whole party past too, so I made him run for it-

Normally, he wouldn't get there. I ran out of potions at the end, and one hit, and he would be d.e.d. But you see, while exploring while the goblins were still calm, I found ~a secret tunnel~ So there was a horde of goblins, and Astarion was just dashing and dodging while chugging down health potions. He was LITERALLY ONE HIT POINT from dying :p But he made it! It looked comical, and he was pissed that he was hurt, but Astarion, your deeds will never be forgotten. Without you, my team would be a bit more crap than it is now. You carry everyone's dumb asses.

I imagine he came back looking like those Minecraft players full of arrows. I healed him, but my game might have glitched, and so he's now just permanently stuck in the pained pose. We understand Astarion, you break your back for us.

I let him carry all the party's gold from now on.

[666writingcafe]

Hi Anna, can I ask for a make you own Order?

Lucifer - I want you in the most sinful way possible.

Order #5

"I want you in the most sinful way possible." Lucifer

Author's Note: This takes place after the student council play "With Me" in season two. After receiving glowing reviews, MC gets invited to join RAD's Improv Club. At first, they were unsure about joining due to their heavy course-load, but eventually they were convinced to just attend one meeting and see what they thought of it before fully committing to it. This is the story of that meeting.

Even as I stand in front of the auditorium door, there's a part of me that feels like turning around and heading back to the House. Researching the group revealed that they've received a lot of awards and accolades for their performances in their relatively short tenure, and I'm just not sure if I'll be able to perform to that kind of standard.

However, I did make a promise, and I'm not one to go back on my word, so after taking a deep breath, I push the auditorium door open.

"MC!" Before I can fully process what's happening, I'm suddenly caught up in a bear hug. "I'm so glad you could make it! Cheshi said that you seemed hesitant when you accepted her invitation, so I wasn't sure if you were coming."

"I didn't know you were involved in this," I reply once Asmo lets go of me and allows me to breathe.

"Well, of course I'm involved! A lot of the skills I've learned here have helped in so many ways in day-to-day life!"

"But you still suck at active listening!" someone hollers from a distance. Asmo whips his head around and quips,

"At least I'm getting better at it! Your friend Roian over there has been involved for the last fifty odd years, and he still interrupts people to this day!" Asmo focuses his attention back on me and tells me to ignore whoever yelled as he guides me closer to the stage.

There's about fifteen people either on or near the stage. Most of them are strangers, although there's a couple of people I recognize from my classes. Cheshi is standing towards the front of the stage, appeared to be engaged in conversation with...

No way.

"He does this too?" I whisper to Asmo.

"It was sort of a happy accident," he answers. "Lucifer likes to attend at least one meeting of whatever extracurricular activity we engage in to make sure that we're not up to any mischief, but then Cheshi called on him to perform a bit, and he was really good at it. Since then, he's kind of...stuck around." Cheshi's eyes momentarily meet with mine before clapping her hands together, getting everyone's attention.

"Alright, now that everyone is here, we can begin," she states. "We have a potential new member with us today. MC, would you mind joining me on stage?" Is it just my imagination, or did Lucifer tense up when she said my name?

Once I'm standing next to her, Cheshi continues,

"It is customary for prospective members to take part of an initiation game we like to call 'Dummy'. Basically, you will play the role of a puppet, and we the puppeteers. Of course, consent is important, so if at any point you feel uncomfortable with a command given to you, simply say "no", and the game ends. Do you understand?" All eyes are on me.

"Yes." I wish I didn't sound so nervous. Some of these guys look like they're ready to pounce on me. I'm sure they can smell my fear and are salivating from it.

Cheshi smiles at me before focusing on the other members.

"Now, I know it's been a while since the last 'Dummy', so let me just remind everyone that magic of any kind is prohibited, especially speechcraft. This is meant to be a safe space for all who enter, and anyone has the freedom to withdraw consent at any time. The experience is enjoyable only if all parties involved are having fun."

"Sounds like sex." My words cause a couple people to whoop loudly.

"Oh, I like them," someone else states.

"Settle down, everyone," Cheshi kindly orders. Once she has their attention again, she looks over at me again.

"One last thing before we begin, MC: are you okay with people physically repositioning you as they see fit?"

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"Allow me to demonstrate. Koballin, give me a command."

"Do jumping jacks!" Cheshi does what she is told. After a few seconds, someone yells "freeze" before hopping on stage and moving her arms down to make her appear like she's giving someone a hug.

"Move like a ballerina," the demon tells her as he steps away from her. A few more seconds, and Cheshi resumes her former position next to me.

"I mean, as long as I can stop the game at any time, I suppose it would be alright," I tell her. More whooping. This time, Cheshi chuckles, allowing them to settle down at their own rate.

"With that in mind, are you ready to begin?"

~~~

I'm a little surprised that I've lasted as long as I have. For one, this little game is a lot more physically demanding than I was expecting, and there were times where I thought I was going to run out of breath. However, the group seems pretty in tune with my body language, and they know when to pull back--and to push things a bit further.

I also wasn't expecting to have quite this much fun doing this. After all the stress I've been under, it's been nice to not have to think as much for a change. I can just submit to whatever commands are being given to me without worrying about getting hurt or damaging something in the process.

I suspect Asmo knew about this side of me already, given the power he has from being the Avatar of Lust, but judging from the looks I keep catching on Lucifer's face, I feel like this is the first time he's really seen it in action. I mean, he knows that I do try to follow the rules and do what I'm told to the best of my ability, but never to this degree before now.

Coincidentally, he's the only one that hasn't said a word through this entire game, and we've been at it for over a half-hour. Is he unsure what to do with me, or is he waiting for the right opportunity to make his move?

As it turns out, it's the latter, for when I'm in the middle of doing sit-ups, he quietly but firmly tells me to freeze as soon as I'm upright. I can feel my heart beating faster as he hoists himself up on the stage and walks over to me. He leans over so that he's at eye-level with me, and there's something almost predatory about his gaze.

"Stand up, MC." My knees almost buckle beneath me when I do so. His fingers brush against my jawline, and it's almost like he's memorizing the contours of my face. He brings his other hand up and cups my face, forcing me to maintain eye contact with him. Murmurs quickly arise from the others, and I can't blame them. What is he thinking?

"Kneel."

A simple command. Not too difficult. Yet, somehow, my body is frozen in place, not responding to my brain's desperate pleas.

"MC?"

"MC, are you alright?"

"You don't have to continue if you're uncomfortable," Cheshi chimes in. I appreciate the group's concern for my well-being. However, this sudden bout of nerves isn't from discomfort. The expression on Asmo's face tells me that he's figured out why I'm reacting this way. Thankfully, he keeps his mouth shut. I don't know what I'd do if these people I've just met knew the truth.

"MC." My attention is immediately drawn back to Lucifer. The way he says my name sends a shiver down my spine. It sounds so commanding, so dominant, so...

"MC." He says it again, and the tension leaves my body, leaving behind a pleasant, relaxed state. Slowly, I kneel in front of him.

"Look up at me." I tilt my head up, my eyes meeting his.

"Good lamb." I feel my face heat up at the compliment. I hear someone quietly comment on my blush, but they sound so far away that they don't even matter. I find myself eagerly awaiting Lucifer's next command.

He gently grips my chin, ensuring that I continue gazing up at him. Not that I would have looked away, but I guess he doesn't want to take any chances.

"I want you in the most sinful way possible," he whispers. He's not using any magic--Cheshi would have called him out otherwise--and yet his words seem to have a hypnotic effect on me. All I can think about is the man in front of me and how much I want him.

"I'll have you begging for release," he continues. "I'll make sure that the only thing on your mind is me."

He releases his grip on my chin, allowing his hand to drift to the back of my head, and runs his fingers through my hair. I'm so close to him now, and all I can focus on is the way he smells.

The way his eyes seem to burn into my soul.

The way his lips look dangerously tempting.

"And afterwards, I'll give you all the love and attention you deserve."

"Get a room!" someone yells, causing the moment between us to abruptly end. Cheshi announces the end of the game, and I nearly trip over my own feet as I bolt out of the auditorium and towards the nearest restroom to compose myself.

It's possible that Lucifer was quoting lines from some Devildom play I've never heard of, and if he was, then he did a marvelous job at making them his own.

"He wasn't faking it." Cheshi's voice startles me, making me jump slightly.

"I apologize," she tells me. "I didn't mean to scare you. I was merely checking on you, and I saw doubt written all over your face. I want to reassure you that his words are genuine." Cheshi places a hand on my shoulder.

"I wasn't too sure about you when you first arrived here in the Devildom for the exchange program, especially when you were making pacts in quick succession to one another. I was like, 'great, another Solomon', but you've proven me wrong." She pauses again.

"I've known Lucifer for a long time, and he's normally quite the hardass, but he softens up whenever you're in the room. He even smiles sometimes, and not the one he uses to scare people into submission. He adores you, MC. Don't you ever forget it." She pats my shoulder and smiles.

"I'm going to let you finish composing yourself, but just to let you know, Lucifer's waiting for you outside. I'm not a betting demon, but I'd reckon he'd like to continue what he started on stage today, but in a much more private setting, if you catch my drift."

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr, @tenkobitch, @budbuddnbuddy

[necrotic-nephilim]

after seeing the poll about who in the batfam could be Deaf, I am now obsessed with how the masks could affect their sign. If they use their signing space differently when in the vigilante persona or not. Signing is so distinctive to each person that the code switching they do would be interesting to see play out in their ASL. Also thinking about what family signs the family would use to refer to batshit things in their lives. q

YEAH YOU GET IT.

(the poll in question) i am deeply fascinated by the mechanics in which Deaf culture could play into the Batfam. bc most of them are wearing masks that would heavily inhibit ASL (given ASL is an expressive language) so i think it's more likely they'd use something akin to Makaton or Military Hand Signals that are not a fully developed language, but a communication aid, with a given set of signs for the typical things that need to be communicated in the field. meanwhile they'd be more likely to use ASL casually. (i'm unsure who all in the Batfam is confirmed to know ASL, but i know at the very least Bruce and Tim are)

i'm also very drawn in by the idea of other firms of assistive communication/tech used aside from just ASL. i personally find it believable that the masks of any of the Batfam could include automatic captioning tech that only they see through the inside of the mask, similar to captioning glasses at movie theatres, if they were Deaf/HoH. also how you would modify the concept of comm links to be more accessible, potentially projecting the message visually through the person's mask or maybe a wrist communicator sort of situation, depending on their personal preference. how the Batfam in general would interact with each other if one or multiple of them were Deaf would be heavily shaped and i think it's so fun. and i *love* the thought of personal signs they'd have to come up with bc well, ASL is hardly equipped for their lifestyle. also fun to consider sign names and if sign names are unique to the person or unique to the mantle. (eg, would the sign name for Robin be specific to which Robin, or just the mantle at large) there's so many little things that would change and i just think it's Neat. most people are approaching the poll from the perspective of their character of choice having hearing loss from vigilante work (which is a super valid way to approach it and i love those headcanons) but personally i find it fun if the deafness is a pre-existing condition and already something the Bat has been dealing with for years and thus approaches vigilantism needing to modify their gear slightly from the standard norm. how they could influence how Bruce trains them, emphasizing other senses. how they'd likely be far more tactical on the field, pressing their hands against something to feel for noise, ergo their gloves may be designed to more easily pick up vibration. (cannot tell you how much i do that irl) whether or not they'd hide it from the larger hero world is also an interesting question. it's all a fun internal struggle as well, internalized ableism and all. so much you could do with it!!

[nonbinarytoast]

I try not to post too much political stuff on this page but I needed to share this.

My mom teaches third grade. Because the school system in America is shit, most of them still don’t know how to add two single digit numbers, something that’s required in first grade but that first grade couldn’t teach them because they were all hyper active maniacs.

One of my mom’s standards in history that she has to teach is all the different countries and immigration from one country to another. Today she asked her class what an immigrant was.

They responded with “well ___ says that immigrants are invading our country” “___ wants to stop the spread of immigrants” “___ said that immigrants eat dogs”

Not a single one knew what an immigrant was, but they all thought it was bad. If so many people were making commercials talking about stopping them then they had to be bad, right?

My mom told them what an immigrant was. “Someone who goes to another country to practice free speech or religious freedoms”

“What’s free speech?” It’s when you can say what your opinion is. Some countries put you in jail for that. “What’s freedom of religion?” So you can practice your own faith. Some countries don’t let you go to the church you want to. “Why are we trying to stop them from coming here?” That’s a question for the politicians. “Wait, so I’m an immigrant?” Yes, since you moved here from Canada, you are an immigrant. “My grandpas an immigrant?!” “My mom is an immigrant?!” “My great grandma is an immigrant?!”

You get the idea.

Not a single one of these children knew what an immigrant was. All they knew, or thought they knew, was that we needed to keep them out because they were bad people.

Politicians making commercials doesn’t just affect voters or people trying to watch football. Kids see it. Little kids who don’t know anything yet. And in seeing it they subconsciously think that even the people they love the most are the people they think they know are bad.

I don’t know what the moral of this story is. But please, please for the love of whatever god or gods you believe in know that this is wrong. That soon you might have to immigrate to escape the US. And know that it’s because of the politicians who lie and cheat their way into office because people don’t know what they’re really voting for.

[babyratphat]

Think I may have fallen in love w the one man working at the gas station who had a 15$ iPhone charger at 11:49pm at night

[sharkylad]

Thinking about the fact that Mabel and Dipper didn't know they had two great uncles.

Yeah they are 12 and at 12 I had a shotty understanding of my family tree- But really? Nobody brought up their great uncle? Stanley? Especially since they'll be staying with his twin brother, Stanford?

Shermie never went to Stan's fake funeral, which to me means the twos relationship was strained on some level. If Shermie is older that means his view of Stan was poisoned in some way, that even as kids they weren't close. If the Shermie is younger then he never even got to meet Stan and all he knew about him was how he failed his family. Hell, people probably barely mentioned Stanley TO Shermie.

The fact that Stan had become a black stain upon the Pines family name makes me so vividly upset. Stanley faked his death and the family just- seemingly decided to strike him from the record. To pretend he didn't existed to spare themselves the sadness and shame.

Stanford and Shermie Pines. The only children worth mentioning of Filbrick and Caryn Pines.

It was never Stanford that was lost to the world. It was Stanley, ever since he had to leave New Jersy- it was always him that had to be struck from the record. Change his name, change his state, change his affiliations, destroy the remains of ghost that was Stanley Pines. Kill him so the family doesn't bring him up, doesn't ask questions, stops asking "Stanford" about his twin.

I just keep thinking about the fact that since the day he made one single mistake all the way up until Ford walks out of that machine- Stanley Pines was killed and did not exist. And Stan himself had no one to blame, he had to play the part in his own demise- He is the only one who ever knew Stanley was alive and has been for decades.

He lives in the multitudes of every personality he's ever taken, all in the hope that he himself can stop being Stanley Pines.

[fictionadventurer]

Maybe the problem with Christian fiction is that it's non-denominational. People are just "Christian", with no effort put into showing what practicing that religion looks like for them specifically. No indication that there are other Christians who could have different beliefs. No wrestling with differing ideas and the struggle of how one should live out their Christian faith. And that makes it unrealistic and unrelatable.

[moeblob]

Happy Birthday to Ferdinand von Aegir!

I actually made 33 emotes, affectionately known as Aegirglyphics to some, for my own personal use on discord. However, I figure why not share some of them! They're free to use for discord servers/icons/pfps or whatever. However, my only request is Do NOT use them as subscriber emotes on Twitch. You can make them free follower emotes but you are not to make them locked behind a paywall.

[r0semultiverse]

[fromtheseventhhell]

Another round of asoiaf "prettycourse", another round of people ignoring Arya's self-esteem issues and how it relates to her arc because their enjoyment of the series hinges on an 11-year-old being considered ugly.