#potential and our worlds are only as big or as small as we make them

[nenlio]

Against All Odds BoyFail Danny Scores a Dilf

> DP x DC #0.3 - Copper Ice <

this one goes out to @chekhovs-slinky o7

"up through the rabbit hole, round the big tree-"

"Danny thats for tying shoelaces not ties"

" well SAM if you know so much why don't you try it then?!" Sam rolled her eyes at his complaints, still she got off the couch to help.

" You must be really nervous if you've forgotten how to tie a tie, im pretty sure you learned how to do that in highschool for prom." Danny glared at her, more annoyed than angry. Pushing up the knot Sam pat him on the shoulders, " there we go, all ready to sweep your man off his feet"

Dannys glare softened his grin turning mischievous "thanks for the help Sam, ill be sure to give you the role of best woman at the wedding"

They both chuckled at his words, " I better be! Me dragging you to the Gala is the only reason you even met!" Sam nudged his shoulder, "though your little ghost instincts are getting ahead of yourself don't you think? Let this first date happen and then well see about your wedding planning"

Danny flushed in embarrassment shoving her to the side, " leave me alone, I know its too soon but you tell my core that"

Her expression hardened at his words, " be careful or you might develop an obsession with a capital o on him"

Grimacing at her words, Danny looked away, " I know Sam, I know better than anyone how badly a obsession with someone can turn" Danny turned back with a small smile "I just haven't felt this kind of immediate connection before him. I don't want to lose my chance you know?"

She smiled back, she was proud of Danny for thinking more about how his ghost instincts could affect a relationship. It was a reason she'd broken up with him, citing her inability to truly understand his ghost and hero side and him not taking those sides in mind when concerning their relationship. It'd been awkward for a few months, but with the help of Tucker and Jazz they'd realized they were better as friends.

Sam walked toward the door, exiting with a small wave, "well good luck on your date! text us if you need anything" "Thanks!"

Turning to the mirror once more, Danny grinned at his reflection, mouthing 'I got this' before grabbing his jacket and exiting the apartment.

On his way to Wayne Manor Danny called Alfred, letting him know he would be there in less than half an hour. As he was about to tell him about his plans a call from Ellie came in, " sorry Alfred, my daughter is calling ill call you back in a bit" He heard a faint gasp on the other end of the phone before hanging up.

Wait...had... had he not told Alfred about Ellie?! .....Shit...

Answering the phone a shrill cry greeted him, " MOOMM!! HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME YOU WERE DATING AGAIN?!!!!" faint cackling could be heard in the background. Great. Dan had also heard the news.

"Hello to you too sweetie, Dan. Technically I haven't started dating yet since we haven't had our first date yet. As for why I didn't tell you. Well.. you do tend to push potential suitors away."

"whaAttt?? nO i dOnt!?" Her tone clearly indicated otherwise. While he loved his daughter, Danny knew she still didn't like the idea of his attention being split from them even more. It'd been harder when she was younger but even as a young adult she still valued the little time they spent together too much to approve of a relationship that would affect that time.

Dante's voice then came through the speakers "settle down squirt. Mom's been single for years now to take care of us, he should find someone to be with if he wants."

Aww his little world ender had matured! "thank you Dan, and sweetie you don't have to worry about me loving you any less or us spending less time together. Even if me and Alfred do start dating seriously I will always put you and Dan first.

"yea yeah I know Mom" Ah she clearly wasn't fully on board yet. Well there was plenty of time to get used to the change.

"how about you guys tell me about you day, it would make me less nervous while I drive?" "okay!! so yesterday me and dan-"

Listening to his childrens antics calmed his nerves a little more, making the drive peaceful. He felt a thought nagging him before dismissing it. It would come to him later if it was important.

When the call from Nightingale had come everyone had been present in the manors dinning table for lunch.

Alfred had just finished serving the meal, moving on to drinks. when the landline in the kitchen had begun ringing.

"ILL GET IT!!" Dick launched himself towards the phone. "Wayne Residence, Richard Grayson speaking, how can I help you?" A pause before his face lit up "Oh hi Danny! Yeah Alfred is here let me get him for you." He put the phone on hold before handing it to his grandfather who had just reached the kitchen.

Nodding his thanks, Alfred took the phone off hold, "Hello Alfred speaking, yes good Afternoon Danny how are you today?"

Dick returned to the dinning table smirking at his familys curious looks. "It was Danny, I think hes calling to let Alfie know hes on his way"

"And you didn't think to listen in??" Steph bemoaned

"hey if you want to be on the receiving end of a disappointed stare be my guest."

After a short while Alfred returned with a tray of side dishes, Bruce and the rest immediately noticed his expression slightly wavering. "Alfred? everything okay?"

Setting the dishes down calmly Afred answered his question, "ah yes Master Bruce, everything is okay simply Danny telling me some unexpected information abruptly. Apparently he has a daughter"

Silence.

"HE HAS A WHAT?!" "Did he not tell you that before Alfred?" "Do you mean Daniella Nightingale-Masters? I believe he also has a son, a Dante Nightingale-Masters" "How old are his kids?" " Dude really dropped a bombshell before the big date"

Silence again.

One of those responses was not like the others. Everyone turned to face Damian who apparently knew more than his family.

'tt' Damian looked away "He has clearly mentioned them before in interviews for his conservation efforts, that you didn't check further is simply oversight"

Tim, connecting the dots cut in "wait you said Nightingale-Masters right?"

Damian nodded

At his confirmation Tim's voice got tighter "Masters like the owner of Dalv.Co? who named Nightingale his heir? That Masters??"

An uneasy feeling settled at the dinner table. Everyone clearly coming to the same conclusion. If Danyal's kids were given the Master's surname was the connection between Nightingale and Masters more than family friends? And if the children were such high profile figures due to relations why did they not show up in Danyal's background check?

Sensing the tension Alfred cut in, "While I appreciate the concern I believe Danny and I can sort this out ourselves. Now if you would all please finish you meals, the food is getting cold"

Temporarily placated, the table resumed their conversation and breakfast was finished. Nothing that couldn't be conveyed by pointed stares and gestures was kept to themselves.

It was then that the landline once again rung, Alfred answering and heading to the coat rack near the entrance. "Danny is here to pick me up, I will be back before dinner, I shall see you all later"

Once the door closed all hell broke loose.

Reigning in the chaos Bruce gave out assignments "Dick head to the cave and inform Barbara about the situation, ask if she can find anymore information on the Nightingale-Masters children. Damian go with him, see if you can help. Everyone elss help me with the clean up and then well head to the cave"

Nodding everyone headed to do their tasks.

....It was going to be a long day..

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

basically I'm convinced that Lindsey Stirling is actually the coolest person on the planet

[perseidlion]

Streaming in Kaos

Well, it happened. I can't say that I'm surprised that KAOS has been cancelled by Netflix. I am a little surprised at the speed at which it was axed. Only a month after it aired, and it's already gone.

That has me wondering if the decision to cancel was made before the show even aired. We have to remember that marketing is the biggest cost after production. If the Netflix brass looked at the show and either decided (through audience testing, AI stuff or just their own biases) that it wasn't going to be a Stranger Things-level hit, they probably chose at that moment to slash its marketing budget.

That meant there was pretty much no way that KAOS was ever going to hit the metrics Netflix required of it to get a season 2.

What makes me so angry about this (other than the survival of a show relying on peoples' biases or AI) is that it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. If you decide before a show is ever going to air that it won't be a success, then it probably won't be. If you rely on metrics and algorithms and AI to analyze art, you will never let something surprise you. You'll never let it grow. You'll never nurture the cult hits of the future or the next franchise.

Netflix desperately needs people behind the scenes that believe in stories and potential over metrics. Nothing except the same old predictable dreck is ever going to be allowed to survive if you don't believe in the stories you're telling.

The networks and streamers have a huge problem on their hands. They need big hits and to build the franchises of the future to sustain their current model (which is horribly broken.) But people have franchise fatigue and aren't showing up for known IPs like they used to. The fact that Marvel content is definitely not a sure thing anymore is a huge canary in the coal mine for franchise fatigue. People aren't just tired of Marvel, they're tired of the existing worlds both on the big screen and the small one. Audiences are hungry for something new.

It is telling that the most successful Marvel properties of the last few years have been the ones that do something different. Marvel is smart to finally pull out The X-Men because that is a breath of fresh air and something people are hungry to see more of.

There's pretty much no one behind the scenes (except for maybe AMC building The Immortal Universe) that is committing to really taking the time to build these new worlds. Marvel built the MCU by playing the long game. That paid dividends for a solid decade even if it's dropping off now. That empire was built not with nostalgia for existing IP (don't forget the MCU was built with B and C tier heroes) but with patience. Marvel itself seems to have forgotten this in recent years.

Aside from that, I think people really want stories that aren't connected to a billion other things. That takes commitment on the part of the audience to follow and to get attached to. People WANT three to five excellent seasons of a show that tells its own story and isn't leaving threads out there for a dozen spinoffs. We're craving tight storytelling.

KAOS could have been that. Dead Boy Detectives could have been that. So could Our Flag Means Death, Lockwood and Co, Shadow and Bone, The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance, Willow, and a dozen other shows with great potential or were excellent out of the gate.

If you look at past metrics, you only learn what people used to like, not what they want now. People are notoriously bad about articulating what they want, but boy do they know it when they see it. Networks have to go back to having a dozen moderate successes instead of constantly churning through one-season shows that get axed and pissing off the people who did like it in a hamfisted attempt to stumble on the next big thing.

The networks desperately need to go back to believing in their shows. Instead, they keep cutting them off at the knees before they ever get a chance because some algorithm told them the numbers weren't there.

[natfive9]

Here is the post that everyone is waiting for regarding Killerbait/kat/kit. 

I just want to preface by saying, if this blog gets confusing at any point, I am willing to answer questions that anyone has. I will NOT be exposing her real name or identity to the public. As there are pedophiles that interacted with her and could potentially cause harm if they became obsessive enough. I am all too familiar with the way that the online-world works and I do not wish any form of physical harm on her. After all, I knew Kat & loved her for nearly four years. 

I’m going to try to keep this as simple as I can so everyone can understand. But breaking down almost four years of details will get complicated. 

So let’s start from the beginning:

I met Kat during my sophomore year of high school. I was 15 at the time and she was 15 as well. We are the same age, I am just a few months older than her. Which makes us BOTH currently the age of 17. We are both still minors. We became friends very quickly and connected over TLOU because we both made edits of the game and met through TikTok which is how we even became associated with each other. I had a girlfriend at the time, but we both had (unstated) feelings for each other than didn’t get acted on until late into my junior year. In the mean time, she had a different girlfriend after realizing that I wasn’t “available.” We remained friends throughout this entire period of time, there were instances where we didn’t speak as much just because I have a very busy life and so did she. Towards the end of her and her ex girlfriend’s relationship, we got close again, and I even got close with her ex girlfriend. We had a group chat together and we all spoke everyday for a couple of weeks until eventually, her and her girlfriend’s relationship came to an end. Which brings me into the next chapter of Kat and I’s life “together.” 

Me and Kat started dating in December of 2023. And we broke up as of this Tuesday. We were together for a year and three months. Our relationship was completely okay up until around August/September. We started fighting over things but they always got resolved and things would be fine, until inevitably they weren’t. And I have just found out yesterday, that she had actually reached out to her ex girlfriend- claiming I was “aggressive” and that there were “other girls.” Both of which are false allegations against me and the person that I am. I would never have considered cheating on Kat, even when she started treating me like I was less than a person to her. 

Here is the proof of her and her ex girlfriends conversation about me with time stamps: 

This all happened in August, as you can see. We later broke up once in December almost directly after we had hit our one year. I broke up with her because of the mistreatment and then a small miscommunication that was genuinely just the last straw for me. I wish I would’ve kept things that way. But she insisted that we stayed friends and still spoke afterwards, we kept each other on social media, and we both made the mistakes of staying in contact after the break up- which inevitably led to us getting back together after three days.  

After that it just never got better. It was another draining 3-4 months of begging to be treated like a person. I begged her to love me, I begged her to care about my successes, I begged her to care about my problems when I had them, I just begged. I did a LOT of begging. And she could typically only give me the words “I’ll try to do better” or “I’m sorry.” Occasionally though, she would give a genuine apology. Occasionally. 

On Monday, March 10th of 2025, I asked her if we could call once or twice a month. As we barely ever called. I never even FaceTimed this girl. She never wanted to and would refuse. Calling is very important to me because quality time is one of my verrryyy big love languages. So It really meant something when I got to call her, I truly cherished every moment with her. But she would deny my request almost every time. Which is why I proposed  the idea of calling 1-2 times a month. To which she said “I can try” and when I was upset and started texting dryly, she did not respond. She just asked if she could go to sleep. To which I said yes, and then later that evening before I went to bed- I sent her a text telling her “if you don’t love me anymore, it’s okay. You can leave and I won’t stop you.” That morning when I woke up, I saw her response and she told me that she “no longer saw me as a girlfriend, and loved me more as a friend.” And when I asked her if we could fix it, she told me “I hope so.” Which is when I knew it was over. And I told her we should probably break up. 

Here is the proof of that conversation as well: 

The SS below is the second convo we had that day. Where I asked her if she had me blocked on tumblr. Because last time we broke up she posted about me, but nothing to this extent. I admit I was gonna look if she did, as any ex normally would lol… but I never expected to see the things she posted this time around.

After all of this. Things only got worse, as all of you guys know. Whether you are fans, haters, or neutral on her as a person. We all saw her account go “downhill” as most sane people would say. She started posting her nudes on the Internet and publicly sexting potential adults and minors, as well as saying that they could rape her. 

This is all while she is also a minor. She is 17 years old. Seven. teen. 

Here is the proof I can provide of that:

Killerbait enabling rape:

And her admitting to it, knowing that it is wrong, since some of you guys are saying that she “might not know better.”:

Proof that Killerbait is a minor:

This is a conversation between me and her mother. I’m keeping it cropped because I want NO part in any form of doxxing or harm towards her family. Or her, for that matter. Which is a big reason why I’m even doing this in the first place. I am SPREADING AWARENESS….:

This is a birthday post I made for her, the date is at the top of the post: 

And to provide more proof that she is a habitual liar, here is her lying about texting her ex-girlfriend about me “cheating.” Saying that she “never did that.”: 

This is proven to be a lie, as in the screenshots I uploaded above in this blog, show that she OBVIOUSLY messaged her ex girlfriend- claiming I cheated on her, as well as saying I was “aggressive.”  

I think that is all. This is all the proof that I have. If there are any questions please feel free to ask. I know I said this was solely about revenge, as I am very angry and hurt. I was molested from ages 6-11 by my own family member. The fact that she is capitalizing off of this kind of topic is sickening. And the fact that she is exposing herself online to potential predators, is sickening as well. I am with everyone when they say that they hope she gets the help that she needs. I genuinely hope that she stays safe and she recovers from everything that she has gone through/is going through. But she needs to stay off of the internet. There will always be creeps lurking, preying on girls just like her. I want to put an end to this.

Thank you to everyone who spent their time reading this and trying to understand the situation. I do not care about “sides” being taken. I just want her to be safe. 

(I also want to note that, after knowing her for four years. She never once mentioned having any trauma regarding rape. So throw that excuse for her behavior out the window.)

[dandelionsresilience]

Dandelion News - February 1-7

(sorry it’s late, I’ve had pneumonia. between fever and meds, today was the first day in over a week I could even think)

Like these weekly compilations? Tip me at $kaybarr1735 or check out my Dandelion Doodles!

1. These solar streetlights can withstand Category 5 hurricanes

“[The solar-powered streetlights] can identify potential problems before an outage occurs, identify current outages without the need for customer reporting, and allow for remote control of brightness settings. The streetlights are built to remain operational even during widespread power outages.”

2. 15 Democratic state AGs stand by gender-affirming care

“"Federal funding to institutions that provide gender-affirming care continues to be available, irrespective of President Trump’s recent Executive Order," the attorneys general say. […] “Health care decisions should be made by patients, families, and doctors, not by a politician trying to use his power to restrict your freedoms.”

3. India doubles tiger population in a decade

“[India has protected] the big cats from poaching and habitat loss, ensuring they have enough prey, reducing human-wildlife conflict, and increasing living standards for communities near tiger areas.”

4. A North Carolina wildlife crossing will save people. Can it save the last wild red wolves too?

“There are thought to be fewer than 20 red wolves left in the wild[…. S]tate agencies and nonprofit groups [plan to] rebuild a 2.5-mile section of the highway with fencing and a series of culverts, or small underpasses, to allow red wolves – as well as black bears, white-tailed deer and other animals – to pass safely underneath traffic.”

5. Merrimack Valley public transit system will keep bus fares free

“[… C]ollecting fares [used to] cost MeVa about $300,000 a year to maintain fare boxes, pay staffers and afford insurance. Since going fare free in 2022, the report found ridership increased 60% from pre-pandemic levels[….] The program is now funded by state allocated funds, including money from the so called “millionaire’s tax.””

6. Health care is key for youths getting out of prison. A new law helps them get it

“[The new law] requires all states to provide medical and dental screenings to Medicaid- and CHIP-eligible youths 30 days before or immediately after they leave a correctional facility. Youths must continue to receive case management services for 30 days after their release.”

7. World’s smallest otter makes comeback in Nepal after 185 years

“Scientists have for the first time in 185 years confirmed the presence of the Asian small-clawed otter in Nepal[….] The last time the […] the smallest of the world’s 13 known otter species, was recorded by scientists in Nepal was in 1839.”

8. B.C.'s smallest First Nation has big plans for a 'stewardship' economy

“The Kwiakah Centre of Excellence will be the base for a dedicated research station, an experimental kelp farm, the nation’s regenerative forestry operations and its territorial Indigenous guardian, or Forest Keepers, program[…. R]esults will include a 100-year management plan that integrates climate, salmon, kelp, and soil research to protect territorial waters and remaining old growth forests.”

9. Glades County schools deploy 13 new Blue Bird electric school buses

“The students at the Glades County school district will directly benefit from the cleaner, quieter rides, and operational cost savings that electric school buses provide[, as well as] the addition of much-needed air conditioning in the new school buses. Until now, only three buses in the district provided air conditioning[….]”

10. e.l.f. Beauty CEO defends DEI: 'Our diversity is a key competitive advantage'

“The cosmetics company recently held that it would not nix its DEI initiatives[….] "Our mission is to make the best of beauty accessible to every eye, lip and face," [CEO] Amin said. "One of the best ways we know how to live that mission is to have an employee base that reflects the community that we serve."”

January 22-28 news here | (all credit for images and written material can be found at the source linked; I don’t claim credit for anything but curating.)

[fumifooms]

Marcille’s dungeon lord outfit is about being stuck in an inbetween

Kui combined a dress from her mother with a hat for children. It’s adulthood vs childhood. The dress is tallman fashion while the earmuffs are elven. It’s about emotions and maturity. Stability and instability. Growing & potential vs having grown & knowing yourself. It’s about her cultures and expectations and how can she possibly keep up with all of them, like the genius child she was portrayed as? It’s duality it’s conflict it’s being pulled in opposite directions. It’s about identity.

Marcille wants to have all the answers and wants them all already, she already acts like she has everything figured out more often than not, when it comes to ways to harvest mandrakes or her image of Falin and Chilchuck and orcs or her rigid sense of ethics, but the story does show that she had growing to do, plus her main goal beyond keeping her friends safe and near her is that pursuit of knowledge for what she doesn’t yet have answers for— rewriting the laws of life and death. But, as we’ve all been told before, death is simply a part of life and we have to make our peace with that one way or another. Like Marcille says in the last chapter, this was in large part the lesson and arc she’s had to go through. A lesson that Marcille’s mother has learned herself, one that she has accepted and tried to pass on to her daughter, which didn’t work and kickstarted Marcille’s pursuit of extending lifespans. Marcille has to settle with uncertainty, with knowing life can end at any moment and knowing this is who she is even if the world has no answers for her as to what that means, she has to come to terms with ambiguity and inbetweens.

Marcille’s relationship with her mother is very interesting because it’s shown all in small moments and implications, but we do see that Marcille’s mom is arguably her biggest role model.

She’s the one who shows up in Marcille’s nightmare about monster food early on, she is who told Marcille she’ll have to bear loss througout her life due to her lifespan, Marcille wears a choker like she does, it’s debatable that Marcille mimics her demeanor to seem more elven and dignified, in Marcille’s true nightmare she hides behind a portrait of her, she was the only living elven role model Marcille had around. Mother, who didn’t let grief over her husband rule the rest of her life, having even remarried, mother, who’s a court mage, mother, who pursued a life she wanted even if it cost her. And we do know being an elf is important to Marcille! She seeks to conform to elven beauty standards rigidly, both in gender presentation and things like facial hair, and she’s masked as one since she was enrolled in the magic academy, as far as we know her first time away from home and her first big period of social contact since she isolated herself with chickens and books when she was younger, because she had no peers. Books like the daltian clan, with an aestheticized all elven cast with the one exception of the half-elf character she deeply related to.

Marcille’s bangs are also half down and half cut. Before she had to cut some hair to make familiars, long bangs were what Marcille wore for years, meanwhile in all of Marcille’s childhood flashbacks including at the magic academy her bangs were always cut short. As we know, hair is important to elves. Her hair is elfness. Her hair is elegance. Her hair is her age. Her bangs are uneven now. It’s part of accepting her precarious weird spot in an inbetween, half up half down haircut. Acceptance on her own aging, that there’s no empiric answer for what Marcille’s equivalent age is in elf or tallman or other, maybe just a ballpark if even that. Answers which are what she’s most desperate to know. What do you mean that student over there has got an astronomic result on her dungeoneum and what do you mean she doesn’t really care for how you did it? Falin who’s thus showing her another way to be, with less self-made pressure, that you can just go with the flow- that you can just… Be.

Her hair being all down and messy as a dungeon lord is part of making the characters and audience understand that Marcille is out of it, but… Like her barefootness there’s some flexibility it implies, for Marcille who’s so rigid on appearance. Accepting her hair to be messy, a sort of shedding of who she is even as she’s overdressed and trying so hard to look like something she doesn’t feel as.

That’s why her outfit makes her feel courageous. Because it makes her feel different from who she is otherwise, because it grants her a look she feels naked without, even with barefeet and messy hair. It’s externalizing how she’s been trying to hold it all together and all her confliction and her feelings, offering some catharsis, no more hiding herself, she’s a half-elf trying to do dark magic. Clean Marcille, clean clean Marcille— Overthinking the dressing, the superficial the aesthetic, without looking enough at the body it’s covering up, the laws of the world the ecosystem of the dungeon the opinions of her friends’— what’s standing right in front of her face, the underlying thing holding up the rest of what she’s trying to change, what’s truly important. She’s back to being like with meeting Falin, overfocusing on the details and the nitpicks and the theorics while oblivious to the slimes and the bats and the balance of mana in that small cave dungeon. She has the dress and the hat but as a whole she doesn’t look like a slay queen or a princess or a cool sorceress or even like her mother, she just looks like a mess. 

Ultimately after calming down, she takes the earmuffs off. She lays down her childhood trauma and leaves behind its grip on her and moves forward in the dress, with maturity and emotional intelligence and logic to deal with her current situation instead of coping mechanisms and desperate grasps for control. And then when the dungeon lord becomes Laios her dress poofs, she’s in her very plain pajamas, plain Marcille, and it’s that Marcille who goes forward to help Laios save the world and defeat the demon. Hence why post-canon she starts dressing in similar dresses to her mother as well, and starts wearing more black. Black here is a color associated with her mother. She keeps her own touch and color here and there, like her red choker instead of a black one, but it’s a stark and sudden difference. She’s matured.

Her dungeon lord outfit is a coming of age outfit in a very literal way. A bridge between childhood and adulthood. We see her struggle metaphorically between the past and the future, moving on or holding onto trauma. The dress, from her mother, with cleavage and low cut sleeves and a lace gap going down to her stomach and a very short risqué skirt cut, represents maturity but it was very purposefully contrasted with the earmuffs, a childish piece of accessory associated with youth. This shows her mental state, battling with her emotions, wildly fluctuating between her academic put-together powerful self and the childish emotional outbursts the pressure is causing. Time moves on too fast but she’s not growing up fast enough to keep up or make the academic breakthroughs she wants— time is always running out and she’s both too young or too old she’s pulled in both directions and she can never be up to standards. It represents her struggle with her lifespan, her struggle to fit in, to know who she should be and what she should be doing.

Her friends aren’t afraid to say it like it is and bring back her feet to the ground instead of up in the clouds of fantasy and power, from where she was, her feet back on the dirt of where they are right now instead of the theorics of "when" and "then" and "forever". She’s weird, she’s unique, in some ways she doesn’t fit in with any group anywhere, and that’s ok and she’s accepted that it doesn’t mean she can’t feel belonging and joy as herself with her flawed friends in a flawed world. After all they did stick with her even after seeing her whole tantrum and embarrassing breakdown makeover. Personally I do say, slay queen.

You’re still here? If you’d like a full look at Marcille’s dunlord outfit, I made an entirely too long analysis of it here, this is just an excerpt of the most canon section.

[writingquestionsanswered]

Describing Scene Locations

Anonymous asked: I've been writing for a decade, mostly short stories, and have recently started writing a fantasy set in the 17th century. My setting is a world pretty much like ours, but with made-up names for specific towns and whatnot. The characters are pirates, and a few are non-human. I'm finding it difficult to figure out where certain plot points take place when the story is mostly character-driven. There are parts where they need to be on land, but apart from 'vague port/island', I don't know what else to do with it. (Am I overthinking this?) I suppose my question is: How specific do secondary locations have to be for it to be immersive and realistic (for their world) without it being lackluster or overdone? I don't want it all be "it's a beach with a village," but adding a giant seaside kingdom seems overkill if it's only mentioned in passing once or twice. Thank you so much for taking the time to answer these - this whole blog is a gift, really.

[Ask edited for length]

First, thank you... that is very kind of you to say! ♥

So, I think it really helps to think of your story in terms of scenes, and to think of each scene almost like a scene in a play. Your scene's setting is like the stage in the play, and the amount of description is the amount of scenery and props on the stage.

If you've been to plays, you've probably noticed that the scenery can be very minimal or very elaborate, depending on the needs of the show:

With fiction, it works the same way. How little or how much you describe the scenery (setting) depends on the needs of the scene, but you do need to make sure to give the reader a sense of place. Looking at the first image, just with the little bit of scenery that's there, we know this scene is taking place in a home, perhaps a living room. If the two men were just sitting on chairs with no other scenery, we wouldn't have that sense of place.

However, that doesn't mean that any of your scenes need to be set in sprawling seaside kingdoms. There are all sorts of land-based settings for pirates:

-- bustling port town like Port Royal or Tortuga -- coastal village, town, or city -- isolated island or cove -- small fishing village -- seaside castles or estates -- pirate's stronghold on a hidden island/cove/cave/bay -- tropical jungle or rainforest -- remote island -- colonial outpost -- swamps and marshlands -- rural countryside -- ancient ruins

There are all sorts of reasons pirates might go ashore in these places:

-- to resupply (food, water, liquor, gunpowder, ammunition) -- to buy specific items (weapons, clothing, equipment for ship) -- to sell, trade, deliver, hide, or bury loot -- to hunt and gather resources -- to recruit crew -- to maintenance, repair, or refit the ship -- to meet with allies, informants, business partners, etc. -- to visit friends/acquaintances -- to avail themselves of various goods and services -- to drink in a bar, gamble and carouse with friends -- to enjoy some much needed rest and recreation -- to learn or exchange information -- to seek medical treatment/medicine/remedies -- to seek legal assistance or meet to discuss legal matters -- to "case" a potential target for a raid -- to visit family and love interests

Within these settings and potential errands, there are many specific settings you could use:

-- the docks of a bustling port -- the tavern of a coastal village -- a quiet moonlit cove where pirates are laying low -- the great hall of a seaside castle -- a masquerade ball at a country estate -- the crumbled ruins of an ancient civilization in an isolated jungle -- at a freshwater lagoon on a remote island during resource stop -- busy market at a colonial outpost -- fisherman's shanty in a quiet bayou -- an official's luxury town home in a big city -- the coastal farm belonging to a family member

So... having the different locations in mind, how much or how little do you describe them? Once again, all you have to do is create a sense of place for the reader. If your pirates are having a heated argument on the docks of a busy port town, you may at least want to give a vague description of the docks, whether it's night or day, what the weather's like, how crowded it is, and maybe a brief sampling of what the crowd is doing, notable sensory details (sounds, smells, visuals) etc. You can also weave those details into the narrative in a way that serves a dual purpose. For example, maybe in the argument, one pirate gestures to a toothless fish monger and uses them as an example in a point they're trying to make. Not only is this a necessary part of the dialogue, but it also fills in some of the scenery detail. Or, maybe instead, they're perusing spices in a bustling seaside market while they talk/argue quietly. Here are some posts from my description master list that will hopefully help further:

The Right Amount of Description (5 Tips!) The 3 Fundamental Truths of Description Description: Style vs Excess/Deficiency How to Make Your Description More Vivid Adding Description to Your WritingWeaving Details into the Story Guide: Showing vs Telling When “Telling” is Okay

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[faislittlewhiteraven]

Been having some ISaT tech level and timeline (as in 'when backstory things happened') thoughts and want to ramble a bit:

Tech

ISaT's setting is based on your classic sword and sorcery fantasy JRPG so its easy to assume that tech wise everything is 'fantasy medieval' and call it a day but consider:

Body Craft is at bare minimum is magic sex changing surgery (earliest known equivent in our world dating to 1930) that any old person can learn to do safely on themselves in only a few months, and more likely has many many broader applications like regular old surgery, the 'combat healing' Mira and Sif use, etc.

Cameras and photos are rare enough that Odile comments on it (namely she's happy the group get a photo in the House due to them being 'so rare') yet are also common enough that everyone in the party knows about them and doesn't question the existence of a camera beyond being surprised that the mirror was one. (In our world cameras date back to the 19th century, with the earliest manufacturing of them being in 1839). 

Printing presses and ways to make plenty of paper to feed those presses given absolutely everyone in this game can read, expects everyone else to know how to, and both mass produced book series and newspapers are a thing. (Note: Printing presses have existed since waaaay back but it's the mass paper manufacturing that makes newspapers and The Cursing of Chateu Castle possible that really has my eyebrows raised here, especially since neither Siffrin or Odile find either odd in any way, indicating such things are common everywhere, and while newspapers have been around since 1604 in our world, mass produced fantasy books didn't really take off until the start of the 20th century).

Food production and storage: despite being in the middle of a national disaster that almost certainly cut off trade networks and access to most suppliers for literal months now, Bonnie, a small child, is able to easily get their hands on fresh Pineapple, curry ingredients (for samosa), potatoes, plantains etc with no issues or anyone commenting on this being unusual or lucky. Oh and the only character who even brings up the concept of potential starvation is the Fishing One, and only in a sort of 'we're not at risk now but sooner or later...' kinda way due to noticing that the fish they fish up for fun are disappearing and likely being frozen. So yeah, that heavily implies Vaugarde has very good food storage tech/Craft (possibly better than ours), and likely also good food production and harvesting tech/skills also.

The Island's incredible knowledge of the stars: while the oldest known orrery in our world is dated from around 205 to 87 BC (ancient Greek, earth centric model), the fact Sif -who would've learnt this as a child/teen- is so very certain that stars are big balls of fire made up of gas is interesting as that's something our world couldn't prove the theory of until around the 1900s (note: it'd been theorized a LONG time but Sif talks like its complete facts to them . Additionally the earliest existing record of a telescope in our world dates to a 1608 patent and we see one of those in game.

Post posting EDIT: A wonderful user qds-place pointed out that Mirabelle has anti-anxiety medication in her room. This is in both ISaT and SAaP and though we're not sure what form the medication takes (pills? Valium? Megitech esc Craft boosters???) the fact they specifically have 'anti anxiety' medication at all (as opposed to idk dragging Mira off and drugging her through the gills) is kind of impressive and if it IS modern anti anxiety pills those could be as recent in creation as the 1950s! So um. Some high levels of tech implied in chemistry there <3

So... yeah. All this, plus the fact that the highest tech implied area, The Island, literally specialised in the study/Craft of turning wishes into reality (for a long enough time period that Wish Craft is culturally so ingrained in the King and Sif that they do it without thinking and it seems intertwined with their nation's religion) has been completely erased from memory to the point anything heavily associated with them has been forgotten, and also we only ever see Dormont aka a little village well away from the cities, it's not hard to conclude that you can basically justify giving the ISaT world any level of tech you want, so long as you lock any of the truly 'setting breaking' stuff like planes and rockets behind The Island's forgetting curse (I would've said trains too but thinking about it trains were invented in 1802 so it's honestly easy to imagine that they totally exist in the ISaT setting/Vaugarde but aren't ever on screen because rail is way too dangerous to consider using while the Curse is active and potentially time freezing things on the tracks).

Side note: We know absolutely nothing about Vaugarde's transport system but as a fan of fantasy RPGs it is honestly a travesty I have yet to see a fic that has flying dragons/wyverns or other fantasy mounts in setting. Like, ok yes, the party would probably have wanted to use those but maybe they don't like the Curse and fled? Maybe the King's Curse targeted them first? Maybe all their handlers dropped the heroes off in Dormont and said 'Well Saviors it's been fun, but well me and Scales here are off to Poteria until things wrap up so best of luck to you' before buggering off?

This isn't really a serious complaint just. Me reminding myself/potentially other fanwork writers out there that there's a lot about the setting we just don't know about and limiting all travel to walking, horse drawn carriage and boat is not actually required. (Also please mix up travelling to the Island. Boats are a wonderful classic and have great thematic vibes for Sif's original leaving of the Island but like. Imagine the sheer in-universe wtf of the memories of The Island suddenly coming back and people on the north coast suddenly realising there's a massive bridge, subway or underwater tunnel leading there that everyone just forgot about - potentially filled with all kinds of Sadnesses that need taking down. Or Warp Panels in a House of Change, idk XD).

Timeline

Canon notes first:

Bonnie is a preteen (8 to 12), Mira and Isa are in their early to mid 20s (with Isa slightly older), Sif is late 20s to 30, and Odile is 40+ Nille is stated to be around 18 to 20.

Siffrin ran away from home when they were a teenager (13 to 17? 18?) and this is heavily implied to be when the Island was Forgotten.

Bonnie (in ISaT specifically*) says that Nille told them that when it happened all the adults were talking about it, hence why they think The Island is close to their village. *In Start Again a Prologue, Bonnie says that they themself remember the adults talking about the Island disappearing, which er. Is a bit impossible given they likely weren't even born yet when that happened but that can be explained away by AU differences, InsertDisc5 still finalising details between SAaP and ISaT, and/or OG Siffrin having been in the loops so long they weren't actually listening when Bonnie was talking and just 'scripted' in their head something 'close enough' to what Bonnie was saying to get the idea (note: mentioned that idea before in my post here on the differences between the House and King in Start Again vs In Stars and Time for anyone curious so er please feel free to give that a read if you haven't already).

Odile mentions remembering 'when it happened' as well and has been 'travelling for years'.

The King 'appeared out of nowhere' sometime in his adulthood, and lived in the city of Corbeaux for a few years before he became the King.

The King became the King as was freezing people in time long enough before his attack on the House of Dormont that everyone inside knew he was coming, there were a wall's worth of newspaper articles about him, and everyone was expecting Euphrasie to defeat him.

Mirabelle's quest began 'almost a year ago' and Sif lost their eye 'recently'.

Thoughts on the above:

Calculating when The Island was forgotten:

Sif being mid 20s to 30 and having run away from home as a teen means that The Island has to have been forgotten somewhere between 9 to 17 years ago with nine only possible if he ran away at age 17 and is only age 26 now, and seventeen being the far opposite if he ran at age 13 and is currently 30.

To narrow down the timeline: Given Sif ran away from home because he 'didn't want to eat his veggies' and 'just wanted to scare [his] parents a little bit' it's probably safe to assume Siffrin was likely on the younger end of the teen spectrum (teens run off all the time sure but with loving parents and over veggies? That screams 'kid who has not yet learned that freaking out the parents will get their ass grounded and/or yelled at a LOT and is therefore best saved for doing fun forbidden stuff that ideally the parents will never find out about' XD) Additionally given Siffrin can't remember his age/birthday etc but Isabeau outright says near the beginning of the game "But you're older than most of the people here?" meaning Sif must be visibly older than Isa or Mira, so he's probably closer to 30 than not.

Those alone would imply the Island likely disappeared closer to the '17 years ago' side of things BUT Nille (tops 20 years old) told Bonnie that "[the Island's disappearance] was all the adults would talk about for ages" and kids usually can't remember anything prior to 4 years of age so with that in mind...

I'd say The Island most likely disappeared between 13 to 16 years ago.

Nille stuff:

This is more a general mention but. Nille is tops 20 years old. Bonnie is between 8 and 12 and doesn't remember their parents at all.

This means Nille ran away with Bonnie and gained emancipation and custody of Bonnie (if Vaugarde has formalised that kind of legal stuff) while she was at most 12 years old herself and could have in theory been as young as 6..!

Regardless, it's very likely the original home situation was that bad, Nille deserves a ton of credit for raising Bonnie as well as she has and I'd say it's very VERY likely she had a lot of help from villagers in Bambosche and/or the local House of Change in doing so. ...But also Bonnie is very adamantly 'my sister and village' and not 'my sister and [specific names who live with us]' so there's clearly by the time Bonnie was 4 or so they were living in their own place so... Yeah. Lotta drive for independence there too it seems (so the party might have more trouble adopting Nille into their group post ISaT than Bonnie might expect).

King stuff:

Already an adult 13 to 16 years ago so at bare minimum 33. Given his vibe probably much older though.

Newspapers get printed pretty quick though for there to be so much speculation and research done into his background so quick, either Vaugarde has some form of fast messaging system (something like a Chappe telegraph on top of the Houses of Change? Odile I think does mention that they'll have a message sent to let Nille know they'll be returning Bonnie...) or the King was freezing stuff for IDK around a month or two before reaching Dormont? Alas can't find out how long it takes to walk across all of France out very easily (I'm sure the numbers are out there but my brain is pudding rn) but if we had those numbers we could probably make some guesstimates based off the rough sketched map of Vaugarde InsertDisk5 did... Which I would link but apparently the tumblr post I had it linked on has been deleted???? 'wails at this very unhappy development'

Mira's journey and Sif's eye:

We really don't know a lot but almost a year ago gives us somewhere around 9 to 11 months to spread the journey out along and after eye removal surgery the patient can out and about as soon as 2 to 6 weeks after, maybe sooner with magic healing (though full recovery/growing used to the changed spacial awareness -which Sif clearly does not have- probably can't be sped up and takes around 3 to 6 months) so um. I'd guestimate Sif's eye injury is really recent; like two months ago tops recent. ...Which sorta explains a lot of why Bonnie is not dealing with it right now and also why the others might be trying to avoid bringing it up (since Sif clearly loves avoiding the issue but they haven't yet realised that maybe they really should bring it up even if it annoys them anyway?)

Odile with some Ka Bue speculation:

When it comes to The Island, how did Odile, presumably living in Ka Bue at the time, remember 'when it happened'? Was the Island well known enough even on the other side of the world that it's disappearance made waves? Or was Odile herself or someone she's close to paying attention to the region? (Like maybe her dad or a friend is/was into politics or trade, keeping up with overseas news and got concerned it could happen to Ka Bue? I'd say 'I remember when it happened' line implies it was more immediate knowledge than being informed by a messenger much later though...)

As for Odile's 'years of travel' I have to wonder, what's left behind for her in Ka Bue? She brings up going back there quite a bit, might just miss home and possibly her father if he's still alive, but given it took her years to get here for something so personal rather than idk 'materially rewarding' I think Odile might have some kinda family estate or something back in Ka Bue... Something she wasn't worried about potentially losing while far away, but solid enough to want to return to, beyond her father who she'd definitely want to see again if he's still around. (...But given how open she is to chilling about Vaugarde a few more months with the others, I really don't think he is alive, since well, given their respective ages and travel between Vaugarde and Ka Bue apparently taking years, there'd definitely an uncomfortably high chance of him passing away while she's gone and that seems like the thing that'd stress Odile out so... Yeah. Probably got an estate in Ka Bue she'd like to take the Family to visit/possibly sell off if she decides she'd like to live with them in Vaugarde so... Just my off the cuff headcanoning here and hoping that gives others ideas or something).

---

Anyway that's all the ramble I've got in me so... yeah! Hope this was interesting and useful for those needing a bit of a 'possible tech'/timeline calcs breakdown for the Island + a few more vague things and um. Probably will post a long winding ramble about my attempt at a ISaT Selkie AU fic I've been working on next <3 (Not to be confused with looped-140-and-counting's already existing and quite wonderful Selkie Siffrin AU which already has a completed oneshot fic, a snippet of sequel, two snippets of prequel/Sif flashbacking and I believe a comic too, all of which I highly recommend <3)

[st4rtar0t]

Random Uplifting messages for you

Pick a picture

Please DM for person readings

This is a general reading so only take what resonates.

Picture one

You are capable of achieving incredible things.

Your resilience is inspiring.

Don't be afraid to dream big; you have the talent to achieve it.

Embrace challenges; they make you stronger and wiser.

Your kindness makes the world a better place.

Believe in yourself, and others will too.

Your journey matters; every step is a victory.

Life may be tough, but so are you.

Your smile is contagious; keep spreading positivity.

You are not alone; your friends are here for you.

Each day is a new opportunity; make the most of it.

Your uniqueness is your superpower; celebrate it.

Don't underestimate your impact on others' lives.

Your potential is limitless; never stop exploring it.

Remember, progress, not perfection, is what counts.

Your efforts never go unnoticed; keep shining.

Mistakes are lessons in disguise; learn and grow.

Your courage inspires others to be brave too.

In every setback, there's a setup for a comeback.

Your heart is pure gold; cherish your compassionate nature

Picture 2

Every storm runs out of rain; brighter days are ahead.

You are stronger than you think; keep pushing forward.

Your positive attitude is your greatest asset.

Challenges are opportunities for growth; embrace them.

Your determination knows no bounds; keep going.

Life's hurdles are stepping stones to success; keep climbing.

Your presence brings light into the lives of others.

Stay focused on your goals; you are unstoppable.

Your energy is infectious; keep spreading the joy.

Believe in the beauty of your dreams; they will come true.

Your perspective is valuable; never hesitate to share it.

You have the power to change the world; start with kindness.

Your passion drives you; let it lead you to greatness.

Remember, even the longest journey begins with a single step.

Your creativity knows no bounds; let it flow freely.

Life is a canvas, and you're the artist; paint it vibrant.

Your laughter is music to our ears; never stop singing.

You are a beacon of hope; keep shining your light.

Your friendship is a treasure; cherish the bond we share.

Every day may not be good, but there's something good in every day.

Picture 3

Your spirit is unbreakable; keep soaring high.

Believe in miracles; you are one waiting to happen.

Your generosity knows no limits; keep giving from the heart.

Life's challenges are like a puzzle; you'll find the missing pieces.

Your humility is your strength; stay grounded and keep rising.

Remember, the best is yet to come; keep the faith.

Your wisdom is profound; keep sharing your insights.

You are a masterpiece in progress; embrace your journey.

Your love and kindness create ripples of positivity.

Every setback is a setup for a comeback; keep fighting.

Your enthusiasm is contagious; keep inspiring us all.

Believe in the power of small steps; they lead to significant changes.

Your friendship is a gift; thank you for being you.

You have a heart of gold; keep spreading the warmth.

Remember, life is what you make it; create something amazing.

Your dreams are the blueprints of your future; chase them fearlessly.

Your determination fuels your success; keep the fire burning.

Believe in the magic of new beginnings; they hold endless possibilities.

Your presence is a present to the world; keep shining bright.

Remember, you are loved, valued, and cherished; never forget your worth.

[vellichorvibes]

fandom for the outsiders + stand by me: 9, 12, 4

ship for dalpony: 1, 2, 15

character: ponyboy, 1-4!

BESTIE IS THAT YOU?!?!?! Our chitchat fuel is under the cut

THE OUTSIDERS + STAND BY ME

9…which characters I think should have interacted more in canon.

OUTSIDERS - dallas and pony, always dallas and pony. it should've been them in that church. but also a memory of the Curtis boys with there parents would have been nice

STAND BY ME (The Body) - Chris and Denny; we only get half memories and after thoughts of Gordie's big brother whose been dead half a year by the time the story starts but if Denny was alive and present and Chris and Gordie were friends all these years, Denny would obviously know his kid brothers best friend and probably would have treated chris so much better the Eyeball did. I think Chris could potentially have held all the grief for Denny that Gordie was lacking (in the book, in the movie he misses his brother lots)

12.…what attracted me into checking it out.

OUTSIDERS - I had just read The Body (Stand By Me) for the first time and was craving more boy coming of age stories. I did a rapid fire The Body, The Outsiders, The Warriors, That Was Then This Is Now, and Rumble Fish all within like a week of each other. Still need to read Tex and Taming the Star Runner and then watch all the SE Hinton world films

STAND BY ME (The Body) -  so I actually grew up watching this movie, my mom was a huge fan and could recite the script to me when I needed a story. I didn’t read the book until March this year and that was because LAST year I finally decided to see what all the hype was about and read some Stephen King books. I read The Dead Zone, Gerald’s Game, Cujo, Misery, Under the Dome, The Mist, Children of the Corn and 11/22/63 over 3 months and absolutely loved them. So this year I decided to read The Body, The Long Walk, Carrie, The Shawshank Redemption, Storm of the Century, and Rage. It’s going great so far but The Body set off hyperfixation on coming of age stories which is what pushed me in SE Hinton books.

4…why you should choose to check out the world of this story and choose three gifs that should underline my point.

BOTH - these stories/worlds are both just so touching and deep and i feel like they touch on pieces of adolescents and coming of age that are universal even from totally different backgrounds, these are all white boys in small towns in the 60s and yet i could spot pieces of myself in them; Gordie feeling like his parents never saw him around his brother, his wanting to be a writer and having that be just weird enough to be considered cool. Ponyboy misinterpretings Darry’s strictness as a genuine dislike for him, realizing he had to get tough, get smart to get by in a world that wasn’t going to do him any favors. Like HELLO??? Younger sibling syndrome, bordering poverty, and having a horrifying case of being 12/14 really is universal.

 Aaaand…gay ships. DalPony and LaChambers have the potential to be 10ply levels of soft and just never get the chance because the sunshine protector is doomed by the narrative and that…is part of the experience too.

DALPONY

1…about my absolute favorite of their scenes and why I love it so much.

…"I was in the bedroom." He suddenly stared at me. "Glory, but your ears can get red, Ponyboy." I was remembering what usually went on in the bedrooms at Buck's parties. Then Dally grinned in amused realization. "It wasn't anything like that, kid.”...

This scene is so cute to me because Dallas notices Pony blushing, realizes why, and then assures him it’s not what he thinks. Liiike why does he need to clear things up for this sopping wet 14 year old interrupting his sleep? He’s sparing Pony from nothing but his own internal embarrassment and that’s a type of cute consideration that I sustain on. And this is AFTER johnny had told him what happened; so Dally knows there’s a dead body out there somewhere and he’s still like, ‘better make sure Pony doesn’t think I was gettin’ busy at this party’

And then Dallas noticing Ponyboy is soaking wet right after??? Stahp

2…why I do or don’t ship them.

I definitely have a thing for sunshine/sunshine protector ships and I think these 2 match that pretty dang well!

15…how I wish their story would go/would have gone.

Dallas lives, DUH, but then they sort of just find their way to each other through all their shared trauma and Pony becomes one of the good things left in the world for Dally and Dally does the same for him and they ride off into the sunset to the college of Pony’s choice and stay street smart greaser babes (with 1 degree between them) forever

PONYBOY CURTIS

1…why I love them, like them or hate them.

Pony is just the most boy ever ya know? Like he just turned 14, he draws his mean looking friend because it’s easy, he has entire poem stanzas memorized, he’s such a smarty pants he skipped grades but also he never uses his brain for thinking, he’s super proud of his luxurious hair, he has nightmares so his big brother sleeps with him and his bigger brother calls him ‘baby’, he loves going to the movies, he’s in a gang but he could never cut anyone, LIKE?!?! He’s just babyboy and had i read/seen the outsiders at 14 i think i’d have wanted to BE him (says the adult brown woman about the teenage white boy)

2…how I would have chosen to change their story from canon. 

…does saying I’d have kept him from losing Dallas (and Johnny) count? Like I’d have spared both of them to spare Pony and thus change his story??? And then he and Dally would fall in LOVE

3…if I have an OTP for them.

Dallas Winston, the man that you are…

4…if I have NOTP for them.

Anything with brotherly incest with Darry and/or Soda because…yeah…

[auguryofjellyfish]

‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Everything felt fine, when I was half of a pair.

speculative character study on Hasegawa, his inner life, mentality, social issues, and connections.

applicable as of day 24, 2nd day of Chapter 4.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎[The World]

Hasegawa Ken is in love with the World.

His entire being is of service to appreciating every single detail of it.

It's a complex sort of love. A calm and quiet constant, but also energizing and jittery at times. It thrums beneath his skin, to the rhythm of his heart. It makes him want to know everything. Absorbing as much knowledge as he can- that is what he lives for.

He adores some topics more than others, of course. He has a particularly soft spot for marine life. But he loves, most of all, to look back. Who, how, where, when, why? How did we get here? Where did that come from? Everything has a history. And “history” is about as dense a field as you can get- It's practically endless, and endlessly fascinating. Countless events led us to our current moment in time. Everything that exists came from somewhere. Isn't it just so interesting, to know about the origins of even the most mundane of matters, things people just accept as given without a second thought? Well, he wants to know. Besides...the past is safe. The future is a dangerous unknown, but the past is done, he can learn about it all he wants, and it can't hurt him, and anyone else, anymore. It's already happened, and so, he doesn't have to be scared of it. Helps that he's so good at dealing with it, too.

He loves the World. As for the people in it...well...

It's complicated.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎[The People]

Hasegawa is not very fond of interacting with people.

If he has to, he can do it. He doesn't hate others nor especially minds them, he can be polite and respectful! Even then, he'd still rather be doing anything else...When most interactions make you feel uncomfortable, who could blame you for your lack of enthusiasm? He can have small talk, or a light conversation sometimes, it's not that big of a deal. He just won't really go out of his way to have them.

But in truth, Hasegawa loves to talk. Especially when he gets to share his knowledge, his passion, about the World that delights him so. When he immerses himself in it, his nervousness disappears. Hasegawa is oriented more conceptually than socially. That is his way of connecting. Whether it's about something that interests him, or a thing that exists in the same vicinity as him and the other person- when he talks about it, it's like he's saying “Hey, look! You and I, we're both here, in the World.” They are not just random fun facts, or unrelated anectodes- it's him. His passion is him, and when he's sharing it, he's sharing himself. It's as natural as breathing.

Or, was. It's just. He knows better now.

Kids can be cruel. To kids who prefer to stay in and read instead of play. To kids who can ramble endlessly about things that are completely irrelevant to people's everyday lives. Starting every other sentence with “Did you know...?” To kids who seem much more invested in random concepts, instead of their actual conversation partners as people. But he's not- he isn't-

He is interested. He'd love to learn about them, too. To know them as deeply as he could.

How many times did he get called annoying? A know-it-all? How many times was he shut down when he was only getting started? How many times was he told to be quiet? How many times did he see people grow bored and tired of him? He doesn't want to be irritating, he just wants to share himself with people. Is that so wrong...? Over time, his eyes lowered more and more, his shoulders hunched as he got taller, his voice grew softer as it turned deeper. He knows better now. He grew up, and he learned how to do this whole social thing better. Don't be overzealous. He still can't help himself sometimes....But he also remembers...and is always ready to apologize. Every conversation is a potential minefield. Arms in front of himself, always. Bracing for impact.

It's okay. He still has about everything else.

Now, he just prefers to keep himself on the down-low. Quiet, subdued, just in case. It's not ideal, to constrict himself to this degree, and it makes interactions more of a chore, to suppress his instincts, but... well. It's safer. It's less painful. He's already too sensitive either way. And he really, really doesn't like confrontation.

He doesn't really like going to school. He studies for hours everyday as a passion, so- definitely people related. He's not outright bullied, per se. People might be trying to buddy up to him now, because of his wealth, and it's clear that's the only reason they want to befriend him. Maybe he gets too much attention. Or, on the contrary, he has no one to talk to. He doesn't reach out, others don't reach out to him, he doesn't mesh with anyone, he doesn't even get the chance to grow comfortable... and that's that. It just has to suck to be amongst big groups of people and be constantly reminded of how you're lacking, of how alone you are. You can't learn about people like you'd learn from a book.

He has his issues, but, it's not like he's particularly unhappy...

Well...He might be a little lonely...

...

B-but...He still has his family! They're always there for him.

They love him and accepts him for who he is, he gets to utilize his passion in the most lucrative way possible, and he wants for nothing. He couldn't be more fortunate. He's still so worried about everything, about his family, about what's going to happen in the future, but what he has now...It has to be enough.

For a time. Because family is not supposed to be everything you have, forever. In Hasegawa's student log, there's a lot of emphasis put on his future. He himself is worried about it. As people grow up, they're supposed to go out into the world, to branch out, have their own place, have a job, get married. His family wondered whether the last one was in the cards for him. It might not be up in the air only because he's gay, though it's a big factor, but also because it's so hard for him to build connections in the first place. He...maybe he'd also like to have that last one too, one day-

Then again... this difficulty makes the times when he does find a connection all the more special.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ [Kamimura Kazutoshi]

It's very late. Hasegawa's sitting in the dining hall, barely able to keep his eyes open. And then, look at that. Kamimura is out too, in the dead of night. Their previous interaction was pleasant enough. Good, even. And, Hasegawa's so tired and sleepy it makes him relaxed, more than he would be otherwise. His defences are down.

They're in a “game of life and death”. He's supposed to feel paranoid about everyone and everything, he should to be wary of his own shadow, but...right now, he just isn't. Kamimura is so nice and friendly.

This conversation is going well, too. It's flowing steadily. Calm. Comfortable. Easy. Easy smiles, easy laughter, easy lightness.

Then, Kamimura says that he's glad Hasegawa's there.

And he tells him he can call him by his first name.

And that was that.

Since then, they were inseparable. Still practically strangers, but they were already...of, each other. Their beings tied together. It was an almost insant connection. And all it took was Kamimura reaching his hand out to him. Kamimura trusted him in some way from the get go, didn't include him in “I don't know any of these people, and I don't want them to know me”, and clearly enjoyed talking and being with him. Hasegawa was very fond of Kamimura as well. He was definitely comfortable around him, enough that it automatically improved his social skills tenfold. He wasn't a perfect friend, but he always, always tried to be there for him. To help him in any way he could. Taking on his punishment in the Decision Game wasn't even a choice, it would be unthinkable for him not to take it. He comforted him during a breakdown. When he betrayed Kamimura's trust, he didn't skulk off with his tail between his legs, he'd tried his hardest to make it right. He revealed his vulnerabilities in turn. And he never made the same mistake again.

He wanted to keep him safe and protected, to look after his well-being, to be kind to him, because he truly cared.

They didn't make each other perfectly happy always, that's not what it was about. They bickered, teased each other, miscommunicated, fought, made up. But the mere fact of just existing in the other's presence- talking, exploring, or doing their own separate activities together in silence, was much more important. If they were suddenly rescued, there would be no question of whether they'd want to stay in each other's lives.

We know that Kamimura was completely alone for years. And yet, it still felt natural and easy for him to be in Ken's presence. He trusted him. He felt safe with him. Always.

And Hasegawa only thought of him.

He was invested in his problems and feelings only. Always worried, about nobody else, nobody but him.

Hasegawa wasn't especially obsessed with Kamimura, or incapable of functioning without him, or any other extremes like that. He was his own person outside of the relationship, and they weren't unhealthily codependent. They sometimes separated, to have their alone time, apart from each other. Ken just made that “time alone” more literal.

With 100% certainty, they grew to love each other as close friends, at least. They were both quite lonely individuals who generally don't have an easy time of connecting with others, so when they encountered a connection that felt so easy, it only makes sense to hold onto it. They could show each other the sides of themselves that are normally hidden from the world. Honest. Vulnerable. Real.

Their relationship wasn't a problem. When they were together, it was good....Whatever Hasegawa had with Kamimura, it was more than enough for him. Enough to not try and seek “more”, to actually make an effort and cultivate other relationships on his own. That's not the sort of thing he normally does, anyway. He likes to keep his friend group small, after all.

In this short period of 21 days, Kamimura became the best friend he's ever had. Maybe even something else.

And that's when it ended.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎[The End]

it was beautiful, until it wasn't.

Kamimura is gone.

And Hasegawa was left with zero meaningful relationships and social ties besides him. Whenever he interacted with others, it was always either forced by circumstance, or he was with Kamimura - conversing with people from the place of being as a unit. It was easier, because with someone, he was never the sole focus. On his own, he had never initiated a conversation, not once.

There's a reason that when you're, for example, married, your spouse shouldn't be the only person you have. Even if it's a great relationship, things happen, people leave, people die, and when you put all your eggs in one basket, you are left with nothing.

No one even knows how to approach him. Some people try, but their attempts fall flat. The person who would be the most qualified to try and reach him is gone too. He doesn't seek out anyone nor accept their support, just...retreats. He was barely even a part of the wider group, and now he's barely anything at all.

Hasegawa didn't “just” lose a loved one, his best friend, someone he cared about a lot, someone he was with always. He also lost the only regular source of social interaction, good feelings, engaging conversation, laughter, care, warmth, and belonging he's had for almost a month.

Kamimura didn't “just” die. He was tortured. Desecrated. His life and being were treated like worthless trash specifically to fuck with him.

And Hasegawa was left behind with all of this, things that are beyond traumatizing, with no one whose support he wants, with no one he trusts, with no one he's very comfortable with, or especially likes. No one who brings him joy.

Ken has never been on his own to this degree. He has no one.

He somewhat blamed himself for Isono's death and he had nothing to do with it. He had made no promises to her.

But Kamimura was his to protect.

He's normally so anxious, but with him, he was strong. Because he had someone to be strong for.

“They were always together” rings in his ear. If that's true, then why not then? Why? How could he have let him down like that? Why? Why did he leave him alone?

Why didn't he think of what a hazard it is, for someone to have a completely separate and unattended food supply?

He was in a room right across the hall. He was so close, and he didn't hear a thing. He just sat there, blissfully unaware, while Kamimura was being tortured not even 30ft away.

He died in horrible pain, choking on his own blood, just because he was close to him.

Because of him.

He had so many chances to save him, and he lost each and every one.

It's all his fault.

Kidnapped, ripped away from his family, in an uncertain and stressful environment, he's had the security of being with someone, with Kamimura, since the very beginning.

He had considered the possibility that either of them might die. But it was never more than a vague sort of anxiety, brought by the logic of their environment. He was more scared for Kamimura because of his health problems. Still, if he'd died, Hasegawa knew that he would be devastated.

He never could have imagined that it would happen like that.

What is he supposed to do now?

Hasegawa Ken still has the World, like he's always had.

But, what is the World worth now?

Everything felt fine, when he was half of a pair.

Now through the fault of his, there's no other half there.

He just wants to go home.

‎

[the-100-days-of-junkan]

Special Announcement for the Blog!

Hello to you all, my wonderful audience! I’ve come to make an announcement! 

As I’m sure you all know by now I made this blog to provide the small community of fans for this relationship as much art as they could handle, a bounty of soft Junkan for the masses! However, by the time this post is going up we should be just a few days past the big No. 60, we’re over halfway through with the event! December practically marks the end of the event despite a small amount of overlap into the new year. I very much want to extend the lifespan of this blog, even if I am still putting out art of these two on my main, However unfortunately I don’t think I have it in me to do something like 100 Days again, at least not for a very, very long time (and potentially for a different ship as well).

However there is one way to keep this blog alive for the foreseeable future, especially for 2025 specifically. You might have seen me make mention of it before in previous posts, however I’m happy to say that you can all look forward to-

Junkan Week!~ Coming February 11th all the way through the 17th! That’s right, we’ve roped Valentines Day into this!

The official prompt list for the event will go up later in the month! What day specifically is yet to be decided but I’ll be sure to make a proper post as a small heads up for ya’ll! 

And do not worry for those of you who want to participate but are worried about this blogs usual content of Softness above all else. I’m aware that while I am among many peers who like to see Junko and Mikan having a happy, soft relationship, there are plenty of you who like the ship to be depicted with a darker, more toxic tone even if I’m not among you!~ 

I’ve made plans and designed this event to give everyone who wants to depict the more twisted potential of this relationship! How so? You’ll just have to wait and see!! I also plan to offer a bonus prompt list specifically for AUs if that’s more your speed! I sincerely hope to see what you all have to offer, it will of course all be featured on this blog! 

But that’s not our only announcement! 

You may have noticed that I mentioned wanting to at least keep the lifespan of this blog going throughout 2025 specifically, however one week does not make a full year. Well while I can’t say this account likely won’t become a big quiet for a majority of 2025 unless I come up with another way to breathe some extra life into the blog (Suggestions are welcome! The asks are open!)

Let me ask you, are you full of ideas? Too many ideas even? Or perhaps you want a challenge, craving a true gauntlet. Do you wish to fully indulge in your desire for more Junko making out with Mikan media? Well look out for November 2025 because alongside it shall arrive-

A WHOLE MONTH OF JUNKAN! 

The prompt list will be released as soon as Junkan Week comes to a close, giving you nearly a full year to prepare! 

Keep in mind there is no requirement to do all 30 days! While I personally plan to do every prompt (It’s not my first rodeo with drawing a lot of art in November), I would be overjoyed by even the smallest participation! 

So whether you choose to go all in and do a full thirty days, or pop in to create something for a single day, we’re happy to have you! 

At the end of the day this is all just for the sake of bringing more Junkan into the world, whether it’s the twistedly toxic flavor of Evil Girlfriends, the tooth-rottingly fluffy Soft Style this account has been making for the past several weeks, or even somewhere delightfully inbetween!~ 

I hope you all look forward to the events, whether you plan to participate in either of them or just watch and have a good time! Have a lovely day!

[str4wberrysw4n]

𝐍𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋 (๑·̀ㅂ·́)و✧

yesterday, my teacher said that we were gonna play a Kahoot! and the top 5 would be able to get munchkins as a prize. Im not sure if I've mentioned this on my blog before but i LOVE sweet things!! so i was determined to do well in this Kahoot.

every time a question came up and i clicked an answer, I basically just told myself "it's right" and pushed back any doubt I had in mind. long story short, i ended up getting 5th place and was called up to get a munchkin. however, as i walked back to my desk, i was proud of myself only for my mind to undermine it immediately by saying

"it's just a small manifestation"

and im here to tell u... THERE'S NO SUCH THINGGG!!

oh my gosh. so many people wonder why their manifestations take incredibly long to form in the 3d,but when they DO manifest something small, they immediately diminish their accomplishments bcuz it's not the "main thing" they want. they're so focused on getting this "big" manifestation, which actually ends up with them sabotaging themselves. why?

first of all, i want to explain why "small" manifestations should be celebrated. imagine: maybe u manifested a top. nothing more, nothing less. but that in it's own right is an incredible feat. u have quite literally imagined something in ur head and watched it project into the physical world due to the power that u hold. a lot of people aren't able to affirm, persist, etc. And simply give up when they don't immediately see results. a result, considered small in the eyes of ur humanity, is a representation of u taking back ur reality and controlling the 4d. which is why i think seperating them into groups of "small" or "big" is, in my opinion, keeping u trapped in the 3d.

in the physical realm that we reside in, we constantly attempt to weigh our options to see which one is better. for example, if u asked the average person, "is billions of dollars more important than a shirt", they would obviously laugh at you and think you're joking or something. It obviously is, at least in the 3d. However, I believe that this weighing and difference in values should not be applied to manifesting. imagine like I said, u manifested a shirt. that's great, BUT, ur trying to manifest a billion dollars -- and while ur kind of grateful for the shirt, u instead focus on how you DIDN'T get the money. because of the values that u have been taught in the 3d, u believe that one less important than the other. when u apply this belief, ur basically telling urself that u have some sort of "low power level" instead of seeing it as proof of ur great potential. it shows that you're still attached to the 3d and what it presents to u, rather than accepting the 4d and being truly grateful that its started to pierce through ur reality.

also, just saying -- i see ppl online call certain manifestations "small", and while i don't agree with it, i understand why they could possibly refer to it as that. looking at where they are in their journey and the things they are "receiving", there's a chance that manifesting a shirt is pretty "small" compared to the things that they've manifested before. this is mostly an issue for like NEW manifestors, like they just started making subliminal playlists a week ago. its a problem i definitely ran into and i feel like it could hold back ur progress. luckily, i was able to understand that even if i called it "small", that it wasn't actually that way.

to sum it up, there isn't anything as a small manifestation, and genuinely considering one more important than the other can limit ur potential as a manifestor!!

once again, this was something i experienced so i wanted to post this for anyone that might need some insight! this is all my opinion btw. happy manifesting!! ヾ(◍°∇°◍)ﾉﾞ

[catoslvt]

Wes Hicks x Reader

reader is Stu Machers' niece.

ur mom replaces gale weather's.

at the end of writing this i realised there's hardly any wes scenes so i might just do a part 2??

tw, violence, blood, stabbing, loss of father figure, reader kills amber in self defence.

as i sit in the living room of Mandy, my eyes quickly dart around everyone in the room, assessing them, trying to figure out who the potential killer or killers may be.

Wes, my wonderful sweet boyfriend, everyone knows he wouldn't hurt a fly. God, he feels bad killing people in video games, plus he tells me everything, so there's no chance it's him.

Tara, my bestfriend since literal diapers, she got attacked by ghostface multiple times, so much to the point she's not really technically meant to be out of the hospital right now, so her story checks out, she's clear.

Sam, Tara's big sister, i love her with all my heart and i see her like a big sister, but she is a little odd sometimes, but I don't think she's a killer, she wasn't in town when Tara got attacked the first time and she also got attacked, so for now she's clear.

Mindy, total horror nerd, if she was the killer she'd get away with it and that alone scares me, however I don't think she'd have it in her to kill people the same way her uncle was killed.

Chad, same as mindy, so as of now, they're both clear.

Amber, you know what. im not sure about her. She's really secretive when it comes to certain things, and our groups motto is too much information or no information at all.. I'll need to do more digging later.

Liv, literally an angel, she's too in love with Chad to do anything like this that'll remind him of his uncle.

Richie, all my money is on him. don't know why, he just gives me an extremely off feeling, I always catch him just.. staring at me. He's a weirdo.

Dewey, most definitely not him. this man has been through hell and back with these ghostface killers, and hes literally dating my mom due to how close they got after the full, yknoww.. murder spree my uncle and his friend went on. I literally adore that man with all my heart, and he's the only father figure I've ever known, so he is clear with capital C.

so that settles it, my two main suspects are Amber and Richie, and don't get me wrong, i feel horrible for pointing the finger at Amber who is literally one of my closest friends, but she's been different recently.. asking more questions about my uncle, although then again she does live in the house where him and his best friend went on a killing spree, so I'd be curious too.

"i mean, have we cleared y/n?" Richie asks, snapping me from my deep concentrated thoughts, which causes me to turn my head and look at him. The rest of the room seemingly does the same.

"Why wouldn't we have?" wes asks, instantly on my defence, as he always is. i mean, even if i was wrong, he'd try to bend reality so that I was right.

"She literally got killer dna in her blood. Maybe she's trying to carry on her uncles legacy." Richie answers, like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and the room falls deathly silent. It's clear everyone's waiting for a response out of me.

i hate being associated with Stu, as do the rest of my family, suppose you can't blame us. at the start of high school, i begged my mom to let me change my last name, but i couldn't. Who's last name would i take? I don't know my dad. there was no other option apart from dewey, but i didn't want to overstep any lines.

when people found out stu was my uncle, they bullied me relentlessly, all I had was my group of friends, the bullying has died down now, people mature and move on, but I can't allow myself to move on, their words stick in my mind.

"are you joking?" I ask with a small laugh, hoping hes trying to make just a light hearted joke about the fact his girlfriends little sisters friend group is being hunted by a serial killer, but he stares me dead in the eye and just shakes his head at me.

"you're related to a killer, by blood." he states, as if i didn't know that.

"Wow, really?" I sarcastically ask before shaking my head.

"i wasn't alive when the original killings happened. and being a killer isn't something that's passed down genetically. It's not like some disorder." I say, the same thing I've said, my full life like clockwork.

"im just saying you're top of my suspect list." he says, holding his hands up in some sort of mock surrender.

"what? because my dead uncle was a fucking murderer?" I ask, my voice raising a little.

"exactly! you've got murderer genes literally wired into you!" he says, his voice matching mine.

"My dad's Billy loomis." Sam says, and the rest of the argument i was about to say dies on my lips, the attention from everyone in the room immediately being snapped onto sam instead of me, which relieves me.

"What?" Richie asks, and I look at Tara (who we've literally stolen from the hospital) who just mouths "hes not mine, " and I subtly nod at her.

"ive knew almost all my life, i was snooping in mom's diaries when I found out, when I confronted her about it I didn't realise dad was behind me, he had thought i was his. so dad left, and then mom hated me for it, so I eventually left." she explains, and i just stare at her.

Who's got the killer blood now, richie? your fucking girlfriend.

"i think we just call it quits for today." dewey says and I look at him from my seat beside him and just nod, everyone else sort of agreeing in their own way apart from richie, who just stares at sam looking completely bewildered, but his reaction just looks too...cartoonish in a way, it's like he already knew about this but hes really trying to sort of sell the part.

"no wes you don't get it." I say as I begin pacing back and forth around his bedroom, with him just staring at me from his position on his bed, his eyes darting back and forth trying to keep up with me.

"no y/n, I do. he targeted you just because you're Stus niece. It gives him some sort of leg to stand on." wes says, being my perfect angel as always and trying to calm me down.

"im never going to amount to anything more than his niece." I say, and wes practically jumps off his bed and cups my face in his hands, stopping me from pacing instantly.

"you know that's not true." he argues, and i just shake my head, unsure of what's true and what's not anymore.

"i don't know if i do." I whisper, unable to look up at him.

"You are so much more than Stu Machers niece, i don't even think of him when I hear that last name. My thoughts just go straight to you. I don't associate you and stu together in the slightest. I mean, i don't even associate him with your mom, and I've seen their photos together." he begins, and I slowly find myself able to look up at him.

"Our friends feel the same. We all literally adore you y/n. who cares what richie thinks? He's as immature as Chad, and that's saying something." wes continues, and i laugh a little, which causes him to also smile.

"and now he's can't just single you out for being related to one of the original killers, as sam is literally the direct spawn of one." he finishes, and i find myself nodding.

i follow wes into the bathroom pretty much instantly once his mom leaves to go pick up some sushi for us. He's going for a shower, and im just gonna sit on the toilet seat and wait for him.

"are you sure you don't wanna come in with me? I mean, my mom won't be back for a while." he asks as he slowly lifts off his shirt as he stands in front of his bathroom mirror, his eyes darting to me as I sit on the toilet seat.

"it'll look suspicious if she comes back, and we've both got wet hair." I tell him, and he groans.

"We've been together since we were twelve. Do you really think she doesn't have her suspicions?" he asks, and I just raise an eyebrow at him.

"So you told her?" I counter ask, and he just awkwardly laughs as he takes off his jeans, picking them up and sitting them the edge of the sink, picking up his shirt and doing the same.

"she forced it out of me." he corrects, and i just shake my head with a small laugh.

about five minutes into his shower, i notice his mom is calling him, and I pick up his phone from where it's balancing on the side of the sink and stare at her contact as it rings.

"wes, your mom's calling." I say, my voice loud enough he can hear me over the water, and he pokes his head from around the shower curtain, his bleached hair lathered in shampoo.

"What, sorry? water in my ears." he asks a little too loudly.

"your mom's calling." I say as I show him the phone, and he dismissively waves his hand before his head disappears behind the shower curtain again.

"I'll call her back once im out the shower." he says over the water, and i just sit his phone back down and go back to waiting on him.

i follow wes around like a lost puppy as he walks around his kitchen downstairs in his house, both of us have forgotten about his mother's phone call, which unbeknownst to us has now turned into about 100 missed calls.

"What time have you to get home tonight?" wes asks as he drinks some milk straight out of the carton, and i shrug.

"She didn't give me a time as usual." I say, watching him and shaking my head when he holds out the milk carton to me.

"you think she'd let you stay?" he asks with a smile, putting the milk carton back in the fridge but not shutting the door yet.

"probably, you're literally the only person apart from Tara and well obviously dewey she fully trusts me around right now." I say and he just laughs before closing the fridge door, and I don't even have time to have some sort of reaction before a ghostface practically throws him to the ground, discarding him at the other side of the kitchen before charging straight for me, knife at the ready.

"what the fuck!?" I scream, backing myself into the kitchen counter as the ghostface approaches me at a high speed.

im completely defenceless. This is literally how I die.

my hands reach behind me for anything and I find the knife block and try to feel for knives at the top but it's completely empty, this motherfucker has been here a while, so I grab the knife block as best as I can with one extremely shaky and trembly hand and send it crashing down on the ghostfaces head right as its knife meets my stomach in quite an agonising stab. as the ghostface crashes to the ground, it takes its knife down with it. However, it's not fully knocked out, just clearly dazed.

"y/n we gotta go!" wes screams, now stood up and running for his back door, which has been locked, and he bangs on it helplessly.

"Come on!" he yells, motioning for me to go over to him, and i stumble over, both of my hands clutching at my stomach as my blood pours over my fingers, soaking my top and jeans.

"Where's your phone?" I ask, and he starts patting at all his pockets before angrily hitting his backdoor.

"we left it upstairs." he exclaims, clearly in a panic as his eyes dart down to my stomach, and his face just drops and he begins to rapidly shake his head, glancing over to the ghostface who is now starting to slowly get up.

"front door! front door!" he yells, charging off in a sprint and pulling me by the waist, but even these movements have me crying out in agony, more blood spilling from my stomach.

wes stands for a few seconds, fumbling with the spare keys at the front door as he finally unlocks it and pulls it open, him firstly making it outside before turning around and holding his hands out for me to take to help me get outside, and I go to grab his hand with my hand with the least blood on it, when im dragged back by my hair, tossed to the floor and the ghostface lunges at the door, closing it and locking it shut.

my mind is fully spinning, my stomach hurting and my head pounding, or is that actually coming from the pounding on the door?

"What do you want?" I weakly ask the ghostface as I sit up slightly, using some of my strength to push away from the ghostface as it approaches me.

"Don't you see the patterns?" it asks, the voice I've heard on so many of the Stab films ask, and i just shake my head, tears now pouring at a rapid pace.

"we're targeting people connected to previous killers or their victims.. you've been top of my list for a while, but don't worry. I won't stop at you, once ive killed you in here, I'll get Wes, then I'll wait for his mom, Judy.. and then I might even go for your mom." the killer says, playing around with its knife in its hands.

"why start with me?" I ask, voice breaking.

"a ghostface killing a relative of another ghostface just.. That sounds good." it says, justifying why it's gonna kill me.

"Surely that goes against some sort of ghostface code?" I ask, earning not only a real laugh from the ghostface but another stab to the stomach that causes me to squirm in agony.

"you could've been a ghostface y/n, could've made your uncle proud, but instead you're gonna die at the hands of one, like a fucking pussy." it spits, and it stabs me again in the stomach, and this time i squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for another stab that'll hopefully kill me, but the front door is burst open and within seconds the looming presence is gone from its hovering position ontop of me, and I don't even have time to open my eyes before pain drags me into a sleeping state.

when I wake up, I open my eyes to a blinding white light and about a million faces hovering over me.

my mom, dewey, wes, judy, sam, mindy, Chad, Amber, and Liv.

"what the fuck?" I grumble, squinting my eyes a little before I fully open them, and relief washes over everyone in an instant, and in a split second there's 9 voices talking all over each other at once and I groan, my hand that's attached to all sorts of wires rubbing at my temples.

"okay, one at a time." I say, trying to hush them all, and everyone looks at my mom, obviously wanting her to start.

"im so glad you're okay." is all she manages to get out, and I only now just notice how red her face is with tears.

"im sore." I complain.

"But alive." she states, and for once, i can't argue against her word.

next to talk is dewey, whose face isn't as red as my mom's but still a little red from tears which somehow upsets me more than what my mom crying did.

"a knife block as a weapon?" he asks with a laugh, and i let out a weak chuckle, shrugging slightly, despite the fact it causes a small shooting pain from my stomach.

"im sorry, im not a contortionist. Next time, I'll aim for a better weapon behind my back." I sarcastically say, which earns a laugh from everyone, and he just stares at me like he's a proud dad because he is.

Wes says about a thousand things at once when he talks.

"im sorry i didnt realise they were there- I should've grabbed you- I couldn't knock down the door- I should've let you go out first I mean you were bleeding out-" he rambles and i just shake my head at him.

"its not your fault." I tell him, and his eyes soften when he looks at me, and I give him a half smile.

"im so glad you're okay, God imagine how shitty it would be if my girlfriend died in my own living room." he then goes onto say and his mom gently elbows him in the side so he quickly shuts up with a smile, leaning down and pressing a kiss to my lips which i return, before my mom, dewey and Judy all clearing their throats causes him to pull away and I laugh a little.

by the time everyone has had their chance to talk to me and ask me questions or praise me for my bravery, the nurses rush in saying that they're so sorry, but visiting hours are over and blablabla, so one by one I say my goodbyes, promising wes I'll be out of here by tomorrow so we can have our sleepover, and Sam tells me that she's in Tara's room upstairs, which leaves my mom and dewey in the room.

"I'll stay." my mom states, and dewey shakes his head.

"Leave, but don't go to your place, it wont be safe there. Judy is waiting outside, and you're gonna stay with them until y/n is discharged. You'll be safe there." dewey states, and my mom looks at him slightly defeated, but when she looks at me and sees me nodding, she sighs and nods.

"Okay, but i want you to phone me when you're going to bed and phone me the second you're awake, and I'll be back in an instant." she demands, and i continue to nod.

"i love you, honey." she says, leaning down and pressing a kiss to my forehead.

"i love you too momma, ive got dewey to protect me. you don't need to worry." I say, and she just snorts, pressing a quick kiss to deweys lips and pointing at him threateningly before she leaves without a word, and once the door is closed dewey and i look at each other and laugh, before I fall serious.

"i swear, the ghostface was richie." I tell him, and he pulls up a chair beside my bed, staring at me confused.

"it kept mentioning about stu being my uncle, about how it's targeting people that had something to do with the original killings." I tell him, and by the looks on his face, he's working things out in his head.

"Let's say it is richie, and he is going after people in relation to the original killings, then that means..." he says before his eyes light up and lock onto mine.

"sam and Tara." we say in usion, and he instantly stands up, and i rip all the wires off me and follow him, but he turns to stare at me and shakes his head.

"you're staying." he states.

"it'll be more dangerous if i stay." I argue, and he glares at me but sighs, and I smile contently as I slowly stand up, the pain shooting from pretty much everywhere in my stomach is unreal, but if I gaslight myself into thinking its a period cramp then a period cramp my stab wounds now are.

as the elevator door pings open on the floor sam said Tara was on, its instantly clear that something isn't right, nearly all the nights aren't on and the ones that are simply flicker instead of remaining on and the full floor seems completely deserted.

"stay behind me." dewey whispers as we go to step out further into the hallway when Sam runs at us, helping Tara, who is without her wheelchair and is limping and moaning in pain.

"Where's richie?" dewey asks, trying to keep the accusing tone out of his voice, and sam stutters out some words, pointing down to the corridor they just ran out of.

he's been stabbed." Tara says for her, her voice hoarse and dewey turns to look at me.

"I'll go get him. You three make your way into the elevator. Don't go down until we're all together as we don't know where the ghostface may be." he instructs, and i nod, making my way back into the elevator where I hit the button to keep the doors open, unknowingly somehow jamming it open and dewey walks off, gun cocked and raised.

"hey y/n, just think, we are gonna have the coolest scars." Tara says through a hiss of pain as they make it closer to the elevator, and I now lean against one of the elevator walls, all of the pain and tiredness from today catching up on me rapidly.

"we're gonna get everything handed to us with a bat of an eye." I add, and she groans with a harsh laugh, sam and Tara now making it into the elevator.

"unlimited sleepovers." she begins.

"and partiesss." I say as an honourable mention, and her eyes light up with a nod, and sam just lets out a small, weak chuckle.

"You two really confuse me." she just sighs, and i go to say something. When the door dewey had previously walked into, he opens again, and he's assisting a stabbed richie to walk, however hes still on my suspect list.

just as they're about to reach the elevator, a ghostface comes flying out of nowhere, attacking not richie, but dewey, and that just confirms it.

richie is one of the ghostfaces.

dewey manages to overpower the ghostface and send some bullets into its chest, and he calmy walks over to the elevator with us and I go to press the button to close the doors, but he hits my hands away.

"i love you so much, y/n. and your mom, you know that, don't you?" he asks, looking down at me with a few tears in his eyes.

"what?" I stutter out, and he shakes his head.

"You know i love both of you, don't you?" he repeats, and this time I just nod, completely confused, and nobody in the elevator moves or says anything.

"You make me so proud every single day. and im so glad I was able to call you my daughter, even if it wasn't biologically or through a marriage. He continues, and i continue to nod, and he wraps his arms around me and hugs me tightly, being conscious of my injured stomach, and i return the hug, confused.

"i love you y/n, you're always gonna continue to make me proud." he says before he steps away.

"i love you too, but what are you talking about?" I ask with a confused laugh, and he holds up his gun.

"you need to shoot them in the head. They always come back if you don't." he says, turning around, blinking the tears out of his eyes as he presses the button for the elevator doors to shut, and once hes a few feet ahead He looks back, just for a second, and our eyes meet. That stupid proud smile of his, the kind he’d give after a bad joke from either of us. it said so much, like he wanted to tell me everything was going to be okay, even if it wasn’t.

but he's too far down the corridor to realise that the doors dont shut, and none of us in the elevator even bother to check why, all of us too engaged in the scene before us.

he was being smart, and being brace.He was smart, but he wasn't just being smart. he was a hero. he was my hero, and he was my dad.

Tara whimpered behind me, voice thin and trembling. Sam gripped her tighter. I couldn’t move. My feet wouldn’t listen. I wanted to scream.

"Please help him." I say outloud, not aiming it at everyone, but for some reason, my eyes fall on richie, who just stares at me cold and emotionless, and my eyes fall back on dewey.

Gun raised. Ghostface down. But then the phone buzzed, his phone must've fallen out his pocket during the first fight.

That stupid, cursed ringtone mom and i always made fun of him for having.

He turns to check it.

And in that blink of a moment, Ghostface lunges, knife outstretched, now seemingly full of life.

The sound. God, the sound. The knife pierced him, again, again. And Dewey groans. Not cries. Not screams. Just this low, broken sound, like a man trying to hold the whole world together with failing hands.

He looks up, im not sure what it is, and i dont think I'll ever get the peace of knowing. his eyes go wide. Then peaceful.

And I realised in that moment that he knew. He chose this. he knew that going back there to finish the ghostface off would result in his death, and that just broke me.

"no- no, no, no." I repeat, stumbling towards the door of the elevator, but sam grabs me back, motioning for richie to press the doors close button.

"Dad, you need to get up!" I scream, thrashing against Sams grip, but because of my stomach, im too weak. im too weak. I dont even realise I called him dad out loud for the first time ever.

with the last of deweys strength, he lifts his head and looks towards the elevator, giving me that stupid smile of his yet again, and then The doors finally close.

my trashing becomes useless, and I now become totally still, tears running down my face harder than they did hours before when I was worried I might die.

"y/n." is all Tara manages to say, and I turn around to face her.

as i exit the hospital, i dodge the amount of policemen and first aiders who rush to me, trying to get as far away from here as possible, when a familiar pair of arms embrace me, and I pull away confused.

"sid?" I ask through tears, and she smiles down at me.

"Where's dewey?" she asks, looking hopeful into the crowd of policemen who are now entering the hospital, and with that reality hits, and I fully, uncontrollably break down.

i dont know how i fell asleep or how long im out for, but when I wake up, im in a moving car, and I tiredly rub at my eyes.

"hi." wes says from beside me and i turn my head extremely confused to look at him.

"hi?" I ask, and my mom in the front passengers seat turns to face me, I can tell she's putting on a strong front.

"this is all about to be over honey, you can go back to sleep if you want." she offers, and i rub my head, which is in the worst, agonising pain i have ever felt.

"are we gonna kill the ghostfaces?" I ask, and my mom nods and sid laughs from the drivers seat.

"then I want to stay up." I demand.

as we pull up to the house, I groan. its literally my mom's old fucking house, how ironic is that? but i dont let that phase my plan and I climb out the car, allowing wes and his mom to help me, and I realise ive somehow been changed out of my hospital gown and into some of wes' clothes.

"don't worry, I changed you, not my mom." he whispers and i nod, before I enter the house in what feels like slow motion, I know im gonna kill one of these ghostface fuckers.

there's commotion coming from upstairs which my mom and Sid decide to go check out, whilst wes, Judy and i all fan out and begin to cover the bottom floor, where I enter the kitchen and see Amber tending to a gun wound on her chest, where deweys bullets would've hit her, and everything suddenly all makes sense in my head.

"You're unbelievable." I laugh, and she turns around to face me, eyes widening when she sees im holding her knife.

"i mean, killing my dad. that's a low blow." I continue, pushing down the growing pain in my stomach.

"we were targeting people who were related to the original kills and.. ding ding ding y/n. he was here that night." she says, taking a step towards me.

"you killed my fucking dad amber." I repeat and she just nods with a proud smile.

"yeah and he died like a fucking pussy." she practically growls and that lights an anger up inside of me that's never been lit before, and I use all the strength I can gather and knock her to the floor, falling ontop of her as I press the knife against her throat, not doing anything just yet.

"is that you finally giving into the killer in your blood y/n? I guess this house is finally snapping some sense into you." she dryly laughs, and although my hand trembles, I press the knife a little deeper into her throat, but a knocking coming from the cupboard under the stairs causes me to momentarily get distracted which allows her to overpower me, her now straddling me, her legs pinning down my arms,with the knife hovering over my chest.

"you would dissapoint stu. You could've carried on a great legacy y/n, but you just had to throw it away." she laughs, and I struggle from underneath her, but the pain in my stomach grows stronger, so I just stop.

"now you can die just like your dad did.. weak. scared. for nothing." she spits, and it wriggle out one of her legs grasps and my fingers aim straight for her eyes, which causes her to drop tje knife on top of me and swat my hands away, causing her to topple backwards and again giving me one last final chance to get ontop of her, knife raised.

"don't you ever!" I exclaim, stabbing her once in the chest.

"talk about my dad!" a second time.

"again!" I scream, a third time, before I drop the knife and i look up, as clear as day stu macher stands infront of me, staring down at me.

"feels alright, doesn't it? when there's a motive behind it?" he asks, and I just stare at him, confused.

"Not bad for a first kill.. doubt you'll do it again, though." he continues, and i shake my head.

"Not my killing genes you got. You can finally confirm that." he says with a large laugh before he's gone, and it's wes that stands in front of me.

"y/n." he says, and then as per usual when the plots getting good, I pass out.

a few weeks have passed since everything happened. I've been fully released from the hospital, and the police have taken the last of my statements, although it's clear what happened that night.

i killed her in self-defense.

and stu macher did not appear infront of me.

"You think im crazy dont you?" I ask wes as we lay on my bed, we're meant to be getting ready to go to Mindy and Chads house to all genuinely discuss what the fuck happened to us but I had to finally come clean as to why I was shaking my head at thin air that night.

"i could literally see him clear as day in front of me. He spoke to me. he said i didn't have his murdering genes, though, so I suppose that's a bonus." I add

"i knew you saw something, i could just see it in your eyes, like I could see him standing in front of you in the reflection of your eyes, you know?" he asks, and I nod as he tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear, his hand lingering on my face.

"but you were also running on pure adrenaline due to the amount you had just been through, so if anyone finds out, it was just your imagination." he says, pressing a small kiss to my lips which I happily return, and my eagerness causes him to deepen the kiss, his hand which was cupping my face moving to the back of my head where he draws my face in closer and I wrap my arms around his neck, when he suddenly pulls away.

"How about our long deserved sleepover later?" he asks with a smile, and i nod, staring at him.

"i love you, y/n." he states.

"i love you more." I argue, and he just scoffs.

"that's not possible, but we better hurry the fuck up before the group thinks ghostface came back for us." Wes says with a laugh as he climbs off my bed and i just stare at him unamused.

"Too soon?" he asks awkwardly, staring at me.

"About fifty years too soon, babe."

[bearer-of-the-torch]

Ship kiss number 18 please. 🚢💘

HELLO 😭 I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG, le writer's block hit right in the middle

Thank you so so much for the ask @mimble-sparklepudding! Sorry for making you wait!

#18: ...as encouragement

Set during In the End, There is Omega [Omega raid series] || Word Count: 1.5k

The tremor in his hand was back. He’d had such a boost in confidence after airing his doubts with Nero, but less than a bell later he’d turned back into a skittish chocobo.

He’d known returning to his father’s work wouldn’t be easy, even after fifteen years. But that his very body would protest so much…

With a protracted sigh, Cid sat his tools down and pushed back from his borrowed desk. It wouldn’t do for shaky fingers to set off this little project in the middle of Rhalgr’s Reach. He turned around in his chair to look out at the old temple’s courtyard, and the sight brought a small smile to his face.

Alpha was chasing Rowena around in circles, chirping excitedly as Rowena giggled and shrieked at the little creature on her heels. Cid propped his head up on his hand to watch. She was incurably fond of the strange baby chocobo; they both were, and Cid pondered for a moment if the warmth he felt watching her play with Alpha was the same she had felt watching him with Roundrox. If only the world did not so persistently try to end.

How many potential Calamities had they witnessed? Together, separately. How many gods had they seen? How many gods had she killed? And when would the world finally let her rest?

Let… them rest?

Cid didn’t have long to his ponderings, though, as he heard a loud ‘KWEH’ and the quick patter of booted chocobo talons and his vision was filled with bright yellow plumes. “Alpha!”

“I believe he realized you weren’t working and thought it a good time to come pester you,” Rowena said with a low chuckle as she glided in behind Alpha. Cid smiled at her in between Alpha headbutting his hand. “Hello, dear.”

“Hi.” He suddenly found he couldn’t meet her eyes, peripheral vision catching on his cluttered desk and half-finished project. She’d seen him in his lowest points, but this time… this time felt especially shameful.

“This is our secret weapon?” Rowena ventured, stepping behind his shoulder and laying her hands on his biceps. Cid closed his eyes as he felt her set her chin atop his head.

“After a fashion.” He felt her fingers squeeze his arms. Once, twice, thrice.

Her voice came out with a shudder. “It’s your father’s work.”

Cid whipped around in his chair, eyes wide. “H-how did you know?”

Rowena’s face turned sheepish, wringing the hem of her blouse with both hands and glancing down towards where Alpha was watching them both intently. “We… might have eavesdropped when Nero visited you.”

Cid’s raised brow lowered. “Oh, really? And whose idea was that?” His tone turned light, and he gave Alpha a knowing smile. The little chocobo tilted his head before opening his beak in a sort of smile and waggling his tail feathers.

“Well… I certainly didn’t leave when I should have,” Rowena mumbled.

Cid gave a short laugh. “I don’t mind so much when it’s you. Saves me the trouble of saying it twice, I suppose.” He didn’t know if he could.

Silence hung over them for a moment, Rowena’s fingers still clenched around her blouse hem and Alpha looking between the two of them with big blue eyes. Then Rowena’s fingers unfurled, and she pushed her bangs back from her right eye, that glowing golden eye that always saw straight through him. She spoke softly, locking eyes with him. “Are you alright, Cid? Working on this?”

Oh. Oh he couldn’t lie to her, not when she looked at him like that. “…no.” With a soft sigh, he pulled his goggles from his head, setting them next to the half-built jammer. All eyes out. Nowhere to hide. “No, I’m not. But we do not have the luxury of my wallowing.”

With a rustle of petticoats, Rowena spun around his chair and knelt before him, her hands upon his knees. “Oh, Cid, dear…” Her thumbs rubbed soft circles at the inside of his thighs, barely perceptible through his heavily-padded boots, but enough. “Please. Talk to me. To me, darling. Tell me your hurts.”

Cid squeezed his eyes shut, damming up the tears he felt coming on. Focusing on the gentle rubbing at his knees, and the truth he knew in his heart. “This technology, these theories,” he choked out, “they killed thousands upon thousands. Leveled an entire city. M-my father…” He sniffled sharply, fingers wrapping around his locket. “I couldn’t stop him. How can I…”

One hand reached up to cup his cheek, the other still at his knee. Rowena’s thumb ran over his cheekbone, and she shushed him softly. “You are not using his work for ill,” she soothed. “You carry no malice in your heart, you are using this to save lives.” As if it were so simple.

“Yet it came of research meant to destroy,” Cid sobbed, unable to hold it back, “to destroy your homeland. Can I truly do this in good conscience? Can I?”

For a moment, neither of them moved, Cid’s tears dripping onto his trousers. Then Rowena unfurled his fingers from around his locket and took his hands in hers. “Cid. Do you remember when I first told you I loved you? I said that your conscience was one of the things I loved you for.”

Cid forced a hollow laugh. “I also recall that that was on account of our mutual annoyance getting himself stuck in the Void.” And he still hadn’t gotten a ‘thank you’ out of him either.

“He certainly has a knack for getting himself in trouble, does he not?” The two of them both giggled genuinely, and Alpha, who’d been watching them dolefully, chirruped and shook his tail feathers. “I raise this point for this reason: you believe in good. In doing good. You would not have even entertained this idea if you did not believe it worth it.” Rowena cupped his face in her hands. “My darling, I will not begrudge you your pain, not ever. But I believe that you can do this. And I believe that this is the right way.”

Rowena rolled up on her knees and rubbed the tip of her nose against his, and Cid’s eyes slid closed as she pressed her sweet lips to him. He sighed reflexively, bending his head lower so Rowena wouldn’t have to crane her neck so much. His hands found her arms, feeling the warmth of her skin through the diaphanous linen sleeves of her dress while her own fingers wove through the soft white strands of his beard.

For a moment and more they remained, doubts melting away in the heat between their lips, wafting away on the scent of lavender and bergamot. But the Echo did not allow Rowena to forgo breathing, and he carried no such blessing besides, and natural necessity forced them apart. To make up for the separation, Cid pressed his forehead to hers, the pearly bump of his third eye against smooth freckled skin. He laughed breathlessly, his shoulders unburdened. “My angel, coming to lift me from the depths of my despair yet again.”

“I only wish I did not keep finding you there, my zephyr,” Rowena murmured, one hand still tangled in his beard while the other sought to weave with his fingers. Cid mirrored her, toying with the end of her plait. “One day you’ll have to tell me all of it. I know you’re frightened, but…”

Cid sighed through his nose, fingers idly winding around her hair ribbon. “I’m trying, I promise.” He pulled back, giving her a small grin. “But right now we have another giant robot threatening to destroy humanity, and I have a jammer to finish.”

Rowena sat back on her heels and put her hands on her hips. “Now there’s my brilliant man.”

Cid threw his head back and laughed as Rowena got to her feet. “Darling, we’ve seen the result of inflated egos. You can call me ‘brilliant’ when we see this thing work.”

“You are brilliant, and it will work.” She brushed loose locks from his eyes and slid his goggles back onto his forehead. “Would you like a tool wrangler?”

“Say that again,” he said with a teasing smile.

“Wrrrranglerrrr,” she said, deepening her brogue with a roll of her eyes. Cid started laughing again, and Rowena put her hands on her hips. “Well now I’m not helping you.”

Cid reined in his chuckles, then smiled sweetly up at her. “Thank you, my dear. I needed that, really.”

Rowena smiled back, eyes softening. “Of course, my darling man.” She glanced down at Alpha, who was looking between the two of them interestedly. “I’m going to go entertain our curious little friend here. Lyse might like some company.”

“Check on Nero too, would you, dear? I hope he didn’t collapse on his way back to the infirmary.”

“I’ll give him hell if he did.” Rowena leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. “You know I believe in you, Cid.”

“I do. Thank you.” And in a flurry of petticoats, she was gone again, and Cid turned back to his project. “Come now, Father. Let’s make something good together.”

[dailyanarchistposts]

The question of organisation

How do we coordinate with one another, comrades and beyond, in order to transform society? The history of anarchism – especially its most revolutionary moments – is rich with examples of large, formal organisations that concentrated most or all aspects of the struggle within a single structure. These were organisations of synthesis, some of which still exist: they promote a specific political programme, hold periodic congresses to make unified decisions, and aim to serve as a mediator between power and the masses. However, it would be a big mistake for anarchists to place such an organisation – indeed, the route of formal organisation altogether – at the centre of revolutionary struggle today. At the very least, the option should be considered only in light of some major risks.

Consider, for one, the central tension of any anarchist organisation: the trade-off between size and horizontality. The larger an organisation becomes, the more hierarchy becomes necessary to maintain its basic functions – in other words, the more quantitatively successful the organisation, the less anarchist it can be. This is something no amount of conscious procedures, such as consensus decision-making or a rigid constitution, can successfully alleviate. As a matter of necessity, any organisation incorporating thousands, hundreds of thousands, or even millions of members can maintain direction and coherence only at the cost of extensive specialisation. In particular, those tasks that command the most influence – mediation, accounting, publicity – begin to stagnate in the hands of a few experts, either implicitly or explicitly. And what a sorry outcome that offers: any large anarchist organisation soon becomes incapable of prefiguring the very world it’s supposed to be building, the principle of nonhierarchical association relegated to a mere abstraction. If there’s any doubt on this point, that can only be because the vast majority of anarchist organisations remain woefully small nowadays. An honest look at the towering bureaucracy of the CNT in Spain during the 1930s – the largest anarchist organisation there’s ever been, incorporating a million and a half members – provides an unambiguous picture.

The link between formal organisation and hierarchy runs deeper yet; besides internal hierarchies, a second major problem concerns external ones. Built into the logic of the organisation of synthesis is the hidden assumption that ordinary people are incapable of organising themselves. Society is split between the passive masses on the one hand, and the enlightened revolutionaries on the other; the role of revolutionaries cannot be to engage horizontally with the rest of the population, but instead to approach them from the point of view of recruitment or education, to make them one of us. All potential social realities are distilled into a single way of doing things, as if we alone hold the one true set of revolutionary aims and principles. Such a monolithic approach was never realistic, much less so today: honestly speaking, most people will never see the need to join our organisation, to stomach all the long meetings and tedious subculture. The 21st century has ushered in a human condition that’s unfathomably complex, calling for a much richer diversity of organisational forms than the “one big union” model that worked so well in the past. That means opening ourselves up to a more pluralistic notion of struggle, one that abandons any notions of revolutionary primacy, especially that of the organisation of synthesis.

It isn’t even as if what formal organisations lack in principle they make up for in pragmatism. Merely in terms of their capacity to actually engage in struggle, the organisation of synthesis has proven ineffective. Any structure of significant size must spend the bulk of its time and energy merely on maintaining itself, the task of physically confronting power always coming second. Meetings are now insufferably long, and the only viable collective decisions have become increasingly timid and legalistic, members always going for the lowest common denominator just so everyone can agree. Having succumbed to the quantitative game of putting recruitment before all else, reputation has become a prime virtue, and combative actions are normally condemned in the name of not upsetting public opinion. Compromise and conciliation are instead always favoured by the emerging bureaucracy, the rank and file of the organisation betrayed time and time again. Nor could it be any other way: with obvious leaders, headquarters, and membership lists, the threat of state repression is forever present, severely limiting the scope of militant activity. What you’re left with, therefore, after funnelling so much time and effort into a grand synthesising effort, is a lumbering, introspective mass that can be used for little more than putting the brakes on real struggle.

With this critique in mind, some would respond that the risks posed by the organisation of synthesis are indeed a necessary evil. Perhaps this route offers us something quite indispensable, namely, the prospect of unity itself? The nation state towers over us more ominously than ever, its military, police force, and repressive technology contained within a single, cohesive structure. It might seem like folly not to build our own structure, rigid and undivided, to contend with power on its own terms – an organisation stronger and more unified than the state itself.

However, the problem with taking unity as an end it itself, rather than simply as a tool to be applied depending on the situation, is that it actively invites the concentration of power. Any structure that fancies itself to be building the new world in the shell of the old can only turn out to be a state in waiting. Remember that social hierarchy, besides being localised in certain physical objects, is also a state of mind; it’s always seeking to revive itself, and nobody is immune to the threat, anarchists included. We need not repeat the painful lessons of the past: there’s never been a large organisation of synthesis that hasn’t also been stale and bureaucratic, even subtly authoritarian, functioning like a political party to the extent it grows in size, ultimately favouring to collaborate with power rather than destroy it. This is no attempt to denigrate some of the most inspiring moments of anarchist history, but we also need to learn some hard lessons; let’s not forget the integration of the CNT into the government during the Spanish Civil War, to the extent that even an anarcho-syndicalist trade union ended up running its own forced labour camps.

Fortunately, though, this critique warrants no strategic compromise. In short, the quality of unity is essential only for those movements attempting to seize power rather than dismantle it. Amongst Marxists, liberals, and fascists alike, unity is the vital ingredient of their organising, the intention almost always being to assume the functions of the state in one sense or another. Without unity, the state is inconceivable; such a complex structure can only function properly when operating in a centralised way, forming a robust whole that maintains cohesion by relaying orders to the different parts. Any genuine shows of diversity are a threat to its integrity, because they undermine the singularity of the social body, lessening the capacity for a single will to be imposed upon it. But remember just how little applicability this framework has to our own desires: the point isn’t to emulate the state, as if to treat it as a rival, but instead to destroy it. And for this project a fundamentally different logic is required.

Here’s an idea: as far as effective libertarian struggle is concerned, a high degree of multiformity is the essential ingredient. There’s much to be said for social movements that are messy and fragmented, even to the extent that you’re not looking at a single movement any more, but many different ones with fuzzy lines between them. Building strong links between different fronts of the struggle is essential for encouraging one another to go further, yet the circulation of energies must also remain decentralised, diffuse, or else risk denying vigour to key areas of engagement. The repressive task undertaken by power – by the media, especially – will always be to sculpt us into a cohesive subject, something with discernible leaders and demands, which can thus be easily crushed or assimilated. This is why the struggle must always prize a diversity of tactics and perspectives, empowering all participants to fight on their own basis, and for their own reasons, yet nonetheless against a common enemy.

Multiform struggles are far too disjointed and unpredictable for the state to repress in a straightforward way, and also for the Left to co-opt. They’re more inviting to newcomers as well, offering massive variation of potential involvement, allowing everyone to find their niche without compromising. And multiform struggles, finally, are much more effective at going on the offensive, given that the structures of domination are nowadays far too multifaceted and complex – quite devoid of any centre – for a monolithic approach to successfully unhinge. It would be far better to avoid the fatal error made both by formal organisations and armed struggle groups, namely, to engage with the state symmetrically, in a frontal assault, which is precisely where it will always be militarily superior.

Often we see a split between comrades as a disaster, but that depends entirely on your perspective: diversity is only a curse only when crammed into the stubborn rubric of a movement demanding unity. Remember that it’s rarely the differences between us that cause conflict, but instead one’s refusal to respect them. Such differences are inevitable, and we should be thankful, too, because disagreement is one of the surest signs of vitality, if not of freedom itself. Especially with the struggle for total liberation – defined, in part, by the plurality of its concerns – these unavoidable differences can only be a blessing. The challenge is merely to nurture disagreement respectfully, bearing in mind that, despite the divergent methods we employ, each of these is ultimately grounded in a shared need to dismantle social hierarchy altogether.

* * *

This critique surely begs the question: if not formal organisation, what instead? For some time already, insurrectionary anarchists have been organising the attack mainly through small affinity groups, often incorporating around half a dozen (or fewer) comrades. Affinity here refers to reciprocal knowledge and mutual bonds of trust, as well as a shared project for intervening in society. Affinity groups are temporary and informal, incorporating no official members or branches, refusing to take numerical growth as a basic goal. One doesn’t “join” an affinity group any more than you join a group of friends; the act of signing up to an organisation is done away with, including the largely symbolic notion of involvement it offers. Theoretical agreement is often a good starting point for building affinity, but the vital thing is to find those with whom one can combine long-term trajectories for practical engagement – an ongoing process in which discussion is only the first step.

By remaining small and tightly-knit, affinity groups remain unhindered by the cumbersome procedures that inevitably come with organising as a mass. They can respond to any situation with utmost rapidity, continually revising the plan in light of unexpected developments, melting away whenever faced with unfavourable odds. This fluid, informal terrain of struggle is also immensely difficult for law enforcement to map out and undermine, especially when it comes to infiltration. A decentralised anatomy shouldn’t discourage groups from coordinating with one another horizontally, fostering the broader networks of friendship and complicity necessary to undermine power on a large scale. The point is only that affinity groups remain fully autonomous, in no way bound to sacrifice spontaneity for the sake of cohesion, always waiting for the green light from some higher body prior to taking action. Perhaps this description sounds familiar: anonymous, flexible, and leaderless, such is exactly the informal composition utilised with great success by the ALF/ELF. The main difference is that insurrectional struggle includes a broader range of activity, the question of how best to generalise revolt always taken into consideration.

In any case, large anarchist organisations are apparently a thing of the past, having disintegrated in unison with the workerist glue that once held them together. But that doesn’t mean we’re in the clear. There’s still a very real risk of exactly the mindset underpinning the organisation of synthesis – the emphasis on uniformity and respectability, as well as the subtle mistrust of autonomous struggle – merely reinventing itself in whatever contemporary form, as it will always attempt to do. We saw exactly that manifest in the bureaucratic, centralising tendencies that stifled much of the energy of Occupy and Nuit Debout (most memorably, there were those who refused to condone absolutely anything that hadn’t first received permission from the general assembly). This insistence on sculpting a multiform population into a monolithic subject – in essence, the determination to lay down the law – is always lurking amongst movements with revolutionary potential. Perhaps it’s no exaggeration to say that such an attitude, writ large, is exactly what devoured the initial beauty of the 1789 French Revolution, 1917 Russian Revolution, and 2011 Egyptian Revolution alike. Almost all previous revolutions were defined at first by a spontaneous, ungovernable outpouring of discontent; once that energy lost pace, however, it was gradually remoulded into representational forms – elections, negotiations, bureaucracy – and its original content decisively choked out. Between these two phases, the possibility of a revolution that gets to the root of dismantling power, rather than merely reshuffling it, depends on eliminating this second phase completely. In its place, the first must be extended towards encompassing the whole of everyday life. Informal organisation facilitates this outcome to the highest degree, precisely because it promotes a terrain of struggle that is inconvertible to the functions of state power.

In any case, nothing offered here amounts to a complete blueprint. This is not a programme! Comrades might well decide, according to their local circumstances, that some degree of formal organisation remains indispensable for tasks such as getting new people involved, planning aboveground events, and procuring resources. Which is to say, once again, that the conclusion offered here is only a minimal one: formal organisations cannot be considered the locus of revolutionary struggle altogether, as may have been the case in years gone by. They must instead be ready to adopt a more modest, supportive role, sticking to objectives both specific and temporary, remaining eager to take a step back or even disband entirely if needed. Rather than falling back on outdated formulas, tired and inflexible, total liberation means embracing the fullest multiformity, wild and ungovernable – the only kind of energy capable of bringing social hierarchy to ruin.