#secret invasion was neither

[master-gatherer]

I know I'm usually one to be more charitable towards MCU stuff, but I finally got around to finishing Secret Invasion and it was so bad. Confused plotting and themes, does not gel with the rest of the MCU, and that is being charitable. And the one thing that kept annoying me the whole time was New Asgard

So if you don't know or care, Secret Invasion is about shape shifting aliens coming to Earth and invading it all secret like. In the comics the aliens (Skrulls) are 100% the bad guys, but in the MCU they had a twist in Captain Marvel where actually the Skrulls are refugees and have been nearly genocided by this other alien species (which is honestly one of the more interesting bits about Captain Marvel, but I'm bitching about Secret Invasion, not doing my Captain Marvel autopsy, so focus). Skrulls are not the bad guys, and in fact Nick Fury has been using them as a secret force of informants and assassins since the 1990s, and that's how he's managed to become such a super spy. And in exchange he promised to help the Skrulls find a new planet to call home.

So in the show, some of the Skrulls get tired of waiting after thirty years (even though Skrulls apparently live longer than humans), and want Fury to hurry up and find them a new planet. Even though they can apparently live in radioactive locations and have in fact settled an old abandoned Russian nuclear reactor as their colony on Earth. But this isn't good enough for some of them so that subset of Skrulls are trying to start WW3 to kill off the humans and colonize the now radioactive planet Earth.

So right away we get to the problem, which is that they can apparently live in areas that humans can't, so why can't they just set up shop in Pripyat and other radioactive areas we can't live in, why do they need a whole ass planet. And this is put in stark relief when you remember this is the MCU and somewhere in like Norway New Agard exists.

Because Earth has an alien refugee settlement already, it's New Asgard. In the MCU Asgardians are also aliens, and they lost their home, and have basically set up shop in Scandinavia, we see in Thor Love and Thunder they have a booming tourist industry, in She-Hulk there's Asgardians and even shape-shifting light elves dealing with the legal system. There's precedent. And it's not like humans are using these radioactive sites anyway, we can't go there without getting sick. Why can't we just give the Skrulls amnesty and they stay there, doing their own thing under the protection of Earth and it's superheroes, which will save them from the other space empire that nearly wiped them out in the first place?

But no, the Skrulls have to do a bunch of terrorisms and try to kill the US president, so now the president is trying to declare all aliens enemy combatants (he does not distinguish between alien species, so I guess the MCU version of the president is trying to declare war on Thor, the literal god of thunder). And this whole show is a goddam mess.

Like, usually theming wise Marvel is ok and pretty consistent, their plotting sometimes gets away from them but whatever, the important part is the story, themes, and characters are usually pretty solid, ranging from a few missteps to knocking it out of the park. Not here though. The whole thing didn't seem like it was committed to what it was saying. Like the whole "evil refugee" thing is bad on its face, but it didn't even want to commit to that (because it's xenophobic and gross as fuck) so instead we get this weird mess of "most of these guys are good, but we only see a couple of them, and the bad ones have legitimate grievances but they are trying to wipe out all life on earth" and that does not mesh with what the greater MCU has established, which is that humans know aliens exist and are actively engaging in commerce with them. The concern that humans will not accept the Skrulls because theyre too alien, while it could open a discussion about how different groups experience privilege and prejudice, is treated like a foregone conclusion. "Humans aren't ready to accept aliens living among them" tell that to Valkyrie and Korg! We could have a nice contrast b/t why the Asgardians are accepted and the Skrulls aren't but no, we're just going to side step the Asgardians completely and half demonize half sympathize with the Skrull plight.

Idk man, the MCU seems to really shine lately when it leans into the extraordinary space/magic stuff and it really stumbles when it tries to do a more realistic and gritty thing. Secret Invasion was trying way too hard to be a hard bitten spy thriller, which is just undercut not only by in-story plot points, like collecting all the Avengers' DNA and literal shape shifting aliens, but also the cross continuity to other more fantastical stories. Again, they literal had a shape shifter in She-Hulk, there is now legal precedent established within the MCU of how to deal with this sort of power, you can't have a realistic spy thriller pop in a few months later like "how will society react to this new development 😱"

The creative heads behind the MCU really are resistant to grappling with the change of the status quo and what it means, and it will inevitably break the whole thing if they continue to refuse to do so and keep writing these like "it's just like our world but this handful of people have super powers."

[venator-signum]

I am this close to making a counter for days until teddy altman is in the mcu I am going feral whERES MY BOY

[bet-on-me-13]

The Villains Daughter

So! Years ago, back when the Justice League was only just starting out, only a year or two after their initial team-up, they had one of their biggest battles to date. A group of Extra-Dimensional Beings had burst into their reality, hellbent on destroying a Government Facility and the nearby small town in Illinois.

They barely managed to beat the Invading Army back, although the Government Facility and a part of the nearby Town had been destroyed in the battle.

Later, they would learn about what had happened. Apparently the Government Base, called a GIW Facility, had managed to finally Crack the secret to Interdimensional Travel a few days earlier. Unfortunately, they had opened a Portal into a Dimension known as the Ghost Zone, ruled over by a Tyrant King who wanted to enslaved all world under him. Their Breaching of the GZ had alerted the Tyrant King to the existence of their Dimension, and he had launched an immediate Invasion to try and take it over.

And the evidence supported this.

Wonder Woman shared Legends of her People, telling that their Founding Ancestor had fled the rule of a Tyrant King when she passed into the Afterlife.

Zatara shared his Magic Tomes, showing them passages detailing the horrific Rule of the Tyrant King of the Infinite Realms.

They even asked Boston Brand, the Deadman and resident Ghost about it. He hadn't been the the Ghost Zone in Years, but even he told them that he had personally fled the Tyrant King.

And they also learned that when the Tyrant King set his eyes on something, he did not falter on his Warpath to acquire it. The Tyrant King, Pariah Dark, would be back for their World, again and again.

And they needed to be prepared. This Battle was what kickstarted their true Commitment to the idea of a Team. They knew they could not defeat Pariah Dark alone, so they needed to remain as a Team.

But there was another thing that came about from the Battle.

While the JLA had been helping clean up, Wonder Woman came across a strange sight. A Baby had been left in the rubble of the GIW Building.

She asked around, investigated, and did all she could to find the babies parents. At first she thought that one of the GIW Agents had brought their kid to work that day, but their records indicated that none of the Agents had children of that Age. And Neither did any of the other workers who worked on the base, like the Janitors or the Kitchen Staff. And of they did, all of their children were accounted for.

She eventually came to the conclusion that the Baby must belong to somebody in the nearby Town, but that lead led nowhere either.

She finally came to the conclusion that the Baby's parents must have died in the Invasion, a very unfortunate but very real possibility. She was going to place her into the System, but over the course of her investigation she had grown fond of the Child.

She decided to Adopt the baby herself. She didn't know the child's name, so she had to come up with a new one.

"How do you like the name, Stella?"

The baby gurgled in delight.

...

Over the next decade of their Teams Existence, the Justice League had to fend off the Legions of the Ghost King's Army many more times. It seemed that Pariah had grown wise to the fact that they were the ones defending the Human Realm, as almost all of the later attacks were directed on them personally.

It made sense, they were the First Line of Defense against his Armies, if he managed to defeat them, their World would soon fall.

But they dealt with the attacks as they came. They had made it their mission to defend their Home from the Forced of Pariah Darks Army, and they would not falter now, or ever.

In the case of Wonder Woman, he Daughter had grown to be a fine little lady. Stella had eventually developed Powers similar to her mother, in that she could fly and had super strength, and had begged to be trained as a Hero.

And who was Diana to deny her Daughter her greatest wish? Over the next 5 years, Diana trained Stella in the ways of the Amazon's. Then, when Stella was 15, she had her join the newly formed Young Justice.

She made a great group of friends on that Team, and even started going by Ellie as a Nickname. Her best friend was by far Conner, though she didn't know why she felt such a strong connection to him? It felt like she could relate to him, but her situation was completely different?

Ah well, her Mom wouldn't mind having another kid, would she? She always wanted a Brother!

...

Meanwhile in the Ghost Zone, the Ghost King was getting anxious. After 15 years, his Agents in the Human Realm had finally managed to set up the Ritual needed to Summon Him into the Human Realm.

Who knew that accepting the Ghost King's Throne would bar him from entering the Human Realm through normal Means? He couldn't even use the Portal, he needed to be summoned or he simply wouldn't be able to leave his new home dimension.

But now, it was almost time. Just another year or two, and he would finally be able to enter the Human Realm. He would finally be able to Find Her. His Daugther.

Danny would finally be able to reunite with his daughter, Ellie.

[myhyperfixationisiforgot]

Young Justice was such a wild show. Like. It's based off a 90's comic by the same name. It contains exactly 1 (one) character from the source media, who they immediately change beyond recognition. It used Dick Grayson's Robin and Wally West's Kid Flash, but made Roy Harper the old jaded one. Instead of Wondergirl, they gave Martian Manhunter a niece. They invented a brand new Aqualad. A random 90's villain gets shunted into Arrowette's role, arguably gets the most compelling emotional story of the entire show, and turns out to be related to half the villains they ever meet.

They're a secret black ops team made entirely of teenagers. At one point several of them die onscreen. The martian almost murders several people. There's kind of a pseudo incest plot. There is an episode that takes place almost entirely through mandated therapy sessions.

The show does actually bring in a second character from the original Young Justice, in an episode where Artemis almost dies only to be saved by Secret, the ghost of the villain's sister (who was a member of the original comics team). In the same episode, Superboy and Miss Martian trick a classmate into thinking there's an alien invasion using a Loony Tunes character. Neither of these events are ever mentioned again.

The timeline of the show means that Dick Grayson became Nightwing at 15. They accidentally create Beast Boy because Miss Martian has been impersonating his mom. Aqualad ends up as the leader of the Justice League.

Five years go by between seasons, resulting in a completely different show. I could make the argument that Young Justice was Weisman's OC fanfiction of the comic series. Everything after season 2 is unwatchable. This is the show that got me into fandom. I adore it.

[nikossasaki]

SECRET INVASION | 1X02: PROMISES

Matter of fact, neither is this train compartment.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

At long last, a meaningful step to protect Americans' privacy

This Saturday (19 Aug), I'm appearing at the San Diego Union-Tribune Festival of Books. I'm on a 2:30PM panel called "Return From Retirement," followed by a signing:

https://www.sandiegouniontribune.com/festivalofbooks

Privacy raises some thorny, subtle and complex issues. It also raises some stupid-simple ones. The American surveillance industry's shell-game is founded on the deliberate confusion of the two, so that the most modest and sensible actions are posed as reductive, simplistic and unworkable.

Two pillars of the American surveillance industry are credit reporting bureaux and data brokers. Both are unbelievably sleazy, reckless and dangerous, and neither faces any real accountability, let alone regulation.

Remember Equifax, the company that doxed every adult in America and was given a mere wrist-slap, and now continues to assemble nonconsensual dossiers on every one of us, without any material oversight improvements?

https://memex.craphound.com/2019/07/20/equifax-settles-with-ftc-cfpb-states-and-consumer-class-actions-for-700m/

Equifax's competitors are no better. Experian doxed the nation again, in 2021:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/30/dox-the-world/#experian

It's hard to overstate how fucking scummy the credit reporting world is. Equifax invented the business in 1899, when, as the Retail Credit Company, it used private spies to track queers, political dissidents and "race mixers" so that banks and merchants could discriminate against them:

https://jacobin.com/2017/09/equifax-retail-credit-company-discrimination-loans

As awful as credit reporting is, the data broker industry makes it look like a paragon of virtue. If you want to target an ad to "Rural and Barely Making It" consumers, the brokers have you covered:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/13/public-interest-pharma/#axciom

More than 650,000 of these categories exist, allowing advertisers to target substance abusers, depressed teens, and people on the brink of bankruptcy:

https://themarkup.org/privacy/2023/06/08/from-heavy-purchasers-of-pregnancy-tests-to-the-depression-prone-we-found-650000-ways-advertisers-label-you

These companies follow you everywhere, including to abortion clinics, and sell the data to just about anyone:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/07/safegraph-spies-and-lies/#theres-no-i-in-uterus

There are zillions of these data brokers, operating in an unregulated wild west industry. Many of them have been rolled up into tech giants (Oracle owns more than 80 brokers), while others merely do business with ad-tech giants like Google and Meta, who are some of their best customers.

As bad as these two sectors are, they're even worse in combination – the harms data brokers (sloppy, invasive) inflict on us when they supply credit bureaux (consequential, secretive, intransigent) are far worse than the sum of the harms of each.

And now for some good news. The Consumer Finance Protection Bureau, under the leadership of Rohit Chopra, has declared war on this alliance:

https://www.techdirt.com/2023/08/16/cfpb-looks-to-restrict-the-sleazy-link-between-credit-reporting-agencies-and-data-brokers/

They've proposed new rules limiting the trade between brokers and bureaux, under the Fair Credit Reporting Act, putting strict restrictions on the transfer of information between the two:

https://www.cnn.com/2023/08/15/tech/privacy-rules-data-brokers/index.html

As Karl Bode writes for Techdirt, this is long overdue and meaningful. Remember all the handwringing and chest-thumping about Tiktok stealing Americans' data to the Chinese military? China doesn't need Tiktok to get that data – it can buy it from data-brokers. For peanuts.

The CFPB action is part of a muscular style of governance that is characteristic of the best Biden appointees, who are some of the most principled and competent in living memory. These regulators have scoured the legislation that gives them the power to act on behalf of the American people and discovered an arsenal of action they can take:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/18/administrative-competence/#i-know-stuff

Alas, not all the Biden appointees have the will or the skill to pull this trick off. The corporate Dems' darlings are mired in #LearnedHelplessness, convinced that they can't – or shouldn't – use their prodigious powers to step in to curb corporate power:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/10/the-courage-to-govern/#whos-in-charge

And it's true that privacy regulation faces stiff headwinds. Surveillance is a public-private partnership from hell. Cops and spies love to raid the surveillance industries' dossiers, treating them as an off-the-books, warrantless source of unconstitutional personal data on their targets:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/16/ring-ring-lapd-calling/#ring

These powerful state actors reliably intervene to hamstring attempts at privacy law, defending the massive profits raked in by data brokers and credit bureaux. These profits, meanwhile, can be mobilized as lobbying dollars that work lawmakers and regulators from the private sector side. Caught in the squeeze between powerful government actors (the true "Deep State") and a cartel of filthy rich private spies, lawmakers and regulators are frozen in place.

Or, at least, they were. The CFPB's discovery that it had the power all along to curb commercial surveillance follows on from the FTC's similar realization last summer:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/12/regulatory-uncapture/#conscious-uncoupling

I don't want to pretend that all privacy questions can be resolved with simple, bright-line rules. It's not clear who "owns" many classes of private data – does your mother own the fact that she gave birth to you, or do you? What if you disagree about such a disclosure – say, if you want to identify your mother as an abusive parent and she objects?

But there are so many stupid-simple privacy questions. Credit bureaux and data-brokers don't inhabit any kind of grey area. They simply should not exist. Getting rid of them is a project of years, but it starts with hacking away at their sources of profits, stripping them of defenses so we can finally annihilate them.

I'm kickstarting the audiobook for "The Internet Con: How To Seize the Means of Computation," a Big Tech disassembly manual to disenshittify the web and make a new, good internet to succeed the old, good internet. It's a DRM-free book, which means Audible won't carry it, so this crowdfunder is essential. Back now to get the audio, Verso hardcover and ebook:

http://seizethemeansofcomputation.org

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

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/16/the-second-best-time-is-now/#the-point-of-a-system-is-what-it-does

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/deed.en

[the-curator1]

In the Darkness of your dreams

Demon!Copia x Fem!Reader

Author Note: This story was inspired by the fantastic fic Call Me, Little Sunshine by @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe. If you haven't read it, go do it now! It's a gem. English is not my first language, so if you notice any mistakes, please don't hesitate to point them out to me.

This one is quite sweet? But I'll promise I'll be more spooky next time.

Summary: It is not easy being a demon. It gets lonely sometimes in a cold empty house. While it can be funny and thrilling to be all threatening and scary, sometimes all he would need is a companion. (≈6500 words)

Tags and TW: Copia POV, reader POV, kind of love at first sight (because I'm a hopeless romantic), home invasion, men being absolute creeps, but Copia is kind of your guardian angel demon, a hint of angst, spooky vibes, a very vivid dream, smut (my first smutty fic)

The old house groaned with the weight of its own history. Copia knew all of its secrets all too well, for he had been bound to this forsaken place for many years now. It was not easy being a demon. Actually, most of the time, it was very lonely. The initial thrill of scaring the inhabitants of the house had long given way to a profound loneliness that gnawed at him like a relentless hunger.

At first, he took delight in watching people flee in terror, their screams of sheer horror echoing in the cold, dimly lit hallways. He revelled in the satisfaction of driving them away. If anyone displeased him, as was often the case, he would relentlessly ensure they never returned.  He would slam doors with thunderous force, create eerie and unsettling noises, whisper chilling words into their ears, break their belongings, make their dog bark and occasionally if pushed to the brink of anger, he would even resort to biting or scratching the intruders. However, he would really show himself on very rare occasions.

But now, it had been an eternity since anyone had dared to settle within the walls of the house. The last intruders had been no more than fleeting shadows, and even their presence had ceased to amuse him. As Copia lingered in the darkness, he pondered the cruel irony of his existence, bound to a house he had come to hate, condemned to an eternity of solitude and yearning for something he could not quite define.

But one day, a man crossed the threshold of the old house. He was neither young nor old, with a presence that sent shivers down Copia's spine. The demon felt something unsettling about this visitor. Even a demon such as him could feel something was off. Instead of unleashing his usual frightful antics, Copia watched, his cold eyes fixed on this new intruder. For a moment, the man inspected the damaged house. It was only after a while that Copia realized the man was surely the new owner: he saw the “For sale” sign in front of the house being removed a few days ago.

His suspicions were confirmed when a group of men in work overalls invaded his place in the following days. They laboured tirelessly, painting the walls, mending the creaking stairs, and reviving the old house. Copia knew what this was about– someone was going to settle in the house. Copia hoped it was not the man that he saw for he did not like him… not at all.

As the once-desolate rooms transformed with each brushstroke and hammer strike, Copia's world shifted with them. The air was filled with the scent of fresh paint, the echoes of hammers and saws, and the laughter of the workers. Copia was not pleased with their unbearable hurly-burly however he decided not to disturb their work. These men were doing nothing but their job, and Copia liked to think of himself as a considerate demon. Moreover, he could not help but wonder what surprise destiny had in store for him… 

And this surprise was you. 

One fateful morning, Copia laid his eyes upon you. There you stood on the threshold of the freshly painted wooden front door, holding a suitcase in your delicate hand Copia felt his heart beating out of his chest… if he had one. You were a vision of radiance, stunning and alluring. Your lustrous hair, your gleaming eyes, the elegant contour of your nose, the outline of your lips, and the captivating curves of your body. Copia was well aware that you could not see him unless he allowed it.

He summoned the courage to approach you, drawn in by your magnetic presence, when... He saw him. The man from last time. This bald fucker. He appeared behind you, his eyes cold and unrelenting. a surge of cold anger seized Copia’s chest. A low growl rumbled in his spectral form.

You took a step forward when you felt him behind you, unease clearly etched on your face as the man inched closer. He casually placed a hand on your waist.

“How do you like the entrance hall, Miss?” he asked, his voice oozing with a sly and unsettling grin.

Copia's anger grew as he observed the scene unfold.

“I love it,” you said, your voice was like a melody to Copia’s ear.

His anger quickly subsided, he was focused on you again. At least you were not receptive to the man’s obvious advances. He started to show you around the house. Copia quietly followed you, his eyes never leaving you. 

As the bald man concluded the tour of the house and engaged in conversation with you, Copia couldn't help but notice the way his eyes lingered on you, an unsettling gaze that made Copia's blood boil.

However, Copia's mood shifted when he witnessed the man presenting you with a set of keys, a wide smile gracing his face. At this moment, the lonely demon knew it was the start of something known… Maybe something good? 

The movers had left. A peaceful silence enveloped the house, only disturbed by the gentle hum of your voice. You were meticulously arranging your numerous books on a shelf. Copia was hidden in the shadows, watching you closely from the dark corner you had chosen as your bedroom.

You were nothing short of enchanting in his eyes, the most beautiful thing he had seen in his long, lonely existence. He longed to draw closer, to be near you, to feel your earthly warmth. His spectral form shifted in your direction, inching closer, driven by a desire he had never felt before.

But clumsy as he was, in his attempt to approach, Copia inadvertently knocked over an old chandelier you had placed on a nearby table. The sudden crash startled you, and you swiftly turned around, eyes wide with alarm. Copia's heart, if he had one, pounded in his chest. He did not want to scare you! He already knew he would not try to drive you away, not ever. You were his chance not to be lonely anymore.

You carefully approached and picked up the chandelier, a slight frown grazing your beautiful face. Copia watched in silence, concealed in the shadows. For a moment, you looked around, your eyes scanning the room as if trying to make sense of the unexpected disturbance. After a brief pause, you placed the chandelier back on the table, ensuring it wouldn't teeter too close to the edge. Copia could finally breathe again: you probably thought the chandelier had fallen by itself…  Then you left the room, and the demon followed you like a love-sick puppy.

On that evening, Copia continued to observe you as you prepared for bed. His spectral gaze followed your every movement, his fascination growing with every passing moment. Your grace and beauty held him captivated, as you went about your routine, unaware of his watchful gaze. His longing, however, remained a silent ache within him, a desire to be closer, to understand you better. Copia yearned for a connection beyond the bounds of his spectral form.

Not now… I don’t want to scare her. 

For now, he observed your every move, his gaze lingering on your silhouette as you undressed. You were gorgeous. Even Mother Lilith would be jealous of your beauty. He felt a growing ache in his chest, an ache that could only be soothed by the touch of your skin…

He wanted to touch you.

When you slipped beneath the covers and turned off the bedside lamp, you were asleep within moments. The weariness from the day's work had claimed you, leaving you vulnerable in the quiet, moonlit room. Copia emerged from the darkest corners of the dimly lit chamber, his form silent as he ventured closer.

He longued to touch you. 

His clawed hands barely grazed your bare arm. The warmth of your body and the softness of your skin sent shivers down his spectral form, a sensation he had not experienced in an eternity. He knew it was wrong to take advantage of your slumber. He knew he could wake you up and scare you to death. But he could not help himself.  And he was a demon after all, why couldn’t he indulge in a bit of wickedness?  Moreover, his intentions were not really malevolent.

So, he gave in to his desire, tracing his fingers across your face, through your hair, and down your legs, which were revealed by your short nightgown. He even placed a gentle kiss on your cheek. Copia believed his touch was to be soft enough not to wake you, and indeed, you slept peacefully until morning's first light filtered through the curtains.

As you stirred in your sleep, a sign that you would soon awaken, Copia hastily retreated into the shadows even if he knew you could not quite see him. His ghostly form disappeared from view. Copia watched you as you stretched, and then, you got up and walked to the bathroom. He was about to follow you when he heard you gasp loudly.

“What the hell!” your voice echoed through the house.

Worry gripped Copia, and he rushed to the bathroom. There, he found you standing in front of the mirror, your eyes fixed on numerous scratch marks that scarred your arms… And on the trace of black paint on your cheek.

Guilt started to gnaw at Copia's demon heart. As he watched you in your fear and confusion, he knew that he was the cause of those scratch marks. He had only wanted to caress you, to feel the warmth of your living body, not to hurt you… How could he have believed he could possess a gentle touch? What had he been thinking? In that moment, Copia was haunted by his own actions and the realization that his desire had brought fear and harm to the very person he longed to be with.

Copia watched in silence as you picked up your phone and called someone. He figured you were talking to one of your friends. He observed you frantically explaining what had happened: the chandelier falling, the scratch marks. Your voice was trembling with fear. But as your friend spoke, he noticed a change. You seemed to grow calmer. Copia strained to hear the distant voice on the other end of the line.

“You probably moved in your sleep, you did that to yourself, darl… as for the trace on your face, you said you used paint to work in your house right?”

“Yes…” you answered in a quiet voice

“See? There is nothing to worry about,” your friend's voice assured you.

Copia's invisible presence remained in the shadows as you hung up a few moments later. He felt that you were still a bit agitated but relieved.  The demon followed you as you moved about the house, preparing yourself for the day. His guilt was soon replaced by desire and longing again. He wanted to be near you again. But next time, he would need to be more careful. Maybe next time, he will try something else…

In the afternoon, a knock echoed on your door. Opening it, you were greeted by the sight of your landlord, a smug grin on his face. Copia emitted a low growl at the sight of that man once more... What could he possibly want this time?

"Hi, Miss," the man greeted, leaning casually against the doorframe. "I just wanted to check if everything is going well for you. Have you settled in comfortably?"

“Y-Yeah” you replied, a fake smile on your beautiful lips “Everything is okay thank you, sir”

Copia's presence loomed nearby, watching carefully the interaction. 

“Wonderful,” the landlord said, his voice lowering an octave

He leaned closer to you, and you took a hesitant step back. Copia keenly observed your discomfort. A fiery anger swelled in his spectral chest. How dare this man intrude on your personal space and make you feel uneasy?

Your eyes widened, and a sense of unease washed over you.

“Uh… I don’t know,” you began, your voice wavering. “I don’t think so... I still have work to do.”

The man's expression darkened briefly, and he scowled at your response. Then, his unsettling smile returned.

“Oh, that’s okay,” he said, his tone dripping with insincerity. “I'll ask you again when you have more time…”

You merely nodded as the man finally left, and Copia watched in silence as you closed the door behind him. He longed to comfort you, to alleviate the distress you felt, but what could he do from the shadows? 

However, you seemed to gather your composure, making an effort to put the encounter behind you. Moments later, you put on your coat, grabbed your car keys, and left the house. Copia was left alone with his thoughts, haunted by the image of your lovely, sweet presence. He wanted all of you.  And he wanted you all to himself. That man was definitely going to be a problem.

When you got back home with the groceries, the night had already settled in, shrouding your garden in darkness. At first, you just wanted to go out to get some groceries but you ended up spending the afternoon at the mall. You needed that. The strange noises, the scratch marks, you weird landlord… You needed some time to think and to take a step back and you began to reconsider it all. Perhaps it was all a product of your overactive imagination. After all, this was a new beginning, a fresh chapter in your life, the house was ancient, and your head was full of ghost stories. As for the landlord… creepy men were everywhere, you just had to be careful. The rent was really low and you did not want to leave your dream house for some mediocre disgusting man. 

You got out your keys to unlock the door. At that very instant, your gaze was drawn to a peculiar sight. There, on the first-floor window, was the shadowy outline of a tall figure, its eyes glowing like eerie beacons, fixed on you. But as quickly as you blinked, the apparition vanished into thin air. You felt your heart start to beat faster, but you tried to calm down anyway… You were really tired, were you not? 

Pushing the door open, you entered cautiously. Your heart was pounding with the fear that an intruder might have entered your house. 

"Hello?" you called out, your voice shaking

With your groceries set aside and the door closed and locked behind you, you retrieved your trusty pepper spray from your bag. And so, you embarked on a meticulous search of your home, meticulously inspecting every closet and even peeking beneath the bed. However, no one was there. A sense of relief washed over you. You really needed some sleep. 

After a comforting shower, you went through your familiar nighttime rituals, determined to brush off the unsettling events of the day. You did your best to disregard the creaks and groans of the aging house.

It’s a super old house, you tried to convince yourself, it makes noises, it’s nothing but normal.

Moments later, you found yourself in bed, cocooned in the safety of your covers, determined to tune out the persistent creaking of the old wooden floor in the house. With each creak and pop, you tried to convince yourself it was just the house settling, just a strange symphony of its ancient timbers. Eventually, the comforting embrace of sleep began to sweep you away, and you allowed yourself to succumb to its soothing embrace.

“If this world is wearing thin

And you're thinking of escape

I'll go anywhere with you…”

A gentle, velvety voice beckoned to you as you were standing in the entry hall. Its cadence was soft and enchanting, a siren's call in the dark. Instead of inciting fear, it drew you closer to it. As you followed the voice, your surroundings transformed. The house dissolved into a serene, velvety darkness, wrapping you in a shroud of calmness. It was like being enveloped in a plush, black coat or floating in an infinite pool of inky tranquillity. You climbed up the stairs slowly as the voice continued to sing.

“Just wrap me up in chains

But if you try to go alone

Don't think I'll understand”

You were irresistibly attracted to the voice. Now, you were walking in the corridor that led toward your room. 

“Stay with me…”

You were acutely aware that the voice was calling out to you, and it sent a flurry of a thousand butterflies fluttering in your stomach. It was so seductive, so alluring… It was impossible to resist. The voice drew you closer with every word. You got to the red-painted door of your room. You put your hand on the doorknob. 

“In the silence of your room

In the darkness of your dreams

You must only think of me…”

The voice was getting more and more seductive, more and more sultry. And you felt a growing heat between your legs. You opened the door.

“... There can be no in-between

When your pride is on the floor

I'll make you beg for more”

There he was. The man to whom this enchanting voice belonged. His eyes were a mesmerizing juxtaposition, one a gentle shade of green, akin to the soft caress of a feather, while the other was white, cold, and empty, like the sharp sting of a needle. His face was a canvas painted in black and white, with hollow sockets drawn around his eyes and a mouth contorted into the eerie visage of a skull. But how you found him attractive… you found him so very handsome. His outstretched hand beckoned you. You moved closer to him as if in a trance. He said your name before his voice started to sing again.

“Stay with me…”

Like an automaton, you walked toward him. What was this man doing in your room? Who was he? You did not know. In fact, you could not care less about the answer.

You found yourself standing before him, your hand instinctively reaching for his. Your gaze remained locked onto his enigmatic eyes. His painted lips curved into a captivating smile, and he gently raised your hand to his lips, placing a tender kiss on your knuckles.

"Now, you belong to me, dolcezza," he whispered, his voice a sultry blend of desire and affection, wrapping you in an irresistible enchantment.

His gaze burned with an intensity of raw desire that left you feeling as if the world were spinning around you. His white eyes were glowing like the sharpest diamond. In that moment, all you could perceive was an enveloping silence with his voice being the sole existence in your reality. 

Suddenly, the man pulled you toward him and his mouth began to ravish your neck. His gloved hands roamed your body, an almost electric touch. A gasp escaped your lips as he effortlessly lifted you and gently tossed you onto your bed. In the blink of an eye, he was on top of you, his mouth continuing its exploration of the delicate skin of your neck. A fiery passion enveloped both of you, threatening to burn you whole. His hands were now on your thighs, exploring the sensitive skin. Your entire being was consumed by an intense, burning desire for him. It was an insatiable longing, a burning hunger that had taken hold of you.

"Mine, all mine..." the man growled, his words resonating with this feral, possessive energy.

You somehow knew that he was not human; the growls, these unearthly eyes, that aura about him. But in that moment, in the throes of desire and pleasure, you could not have cared less about all of that. All that mattered was the intoxicating connection that bound you together. And like that, almost without thought, his name escaped your lips. 

"Copia..." you whispered a name that seemed to flow from some dark corner of your mind

You felt him smile against your heated skin. His mouth continued its scorching journey, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses along your jaw. There was a pause, his lips hovering just above yours. Then, he captured your mouth with a fierce and passionate kiss, a clash of teeth and tongues that left you moaning into his kiss. Your hands roamed his back with equal intensity, while your legs locked around his hips. You desperately wanted to pull him closer. Copia's hips eagerly moved against yours. Finally, he broke the kiss, leaving you breathless, panting for more, and utterly consumed by a desire that had become impossible to deny.

“Oh Lucifer, amore… Let me have you” he murmured “Say yes to me…”

You did not even have to think. You nodded eagerly.

“Yes. Oh, yes, please… Copia”

In an instant, his painted lips were on you again. A gasp of pleasure escaped your lips as he swiftly and decisively removed your nightgown, leaving you exposed to his fervent desires. It seems like he was everywhere all at once. His clawed hands traced a path across your skin, marking you with fiery scratch marks that only intensified the pleasure. You didn't mind the marks, in fact, they were making you even more excited.

His name became a sacred mantra, a litany that you repeated. The passion between you both grew with every breath, every whisper of his name. He gave more kisses on your chest, on your stomach. Then with fervent passion, he peppered your thighs with heated kisses, leaving smudged black paint on your skin as a sensual mark of his presence. The intense heat between your legs had become almost unbearable, causing your thighs to glisten with the undeniable signs of your arousal.

With the same impulsiveness that had marked his earlier actions, he tore away your panties, a sudden, thrilling act that made you yelp. It left a faint burn and a red mark on your skin, sensations he promptly soothed with tender caresses and soft kisses. Then, with unbridled desire, he began to lap at the wetness on the skin in your inner thighs, igniting a fire of passion that left you gasping and trembling.

“You taste so good, amore… so good” he purred as his mouth drew nearer to your most intimate area.

His tongue then moved with an electrifying swiftness, delving between your delicate folds, drawing incontrollable squirms and gasps of unbridled pleasure from you. His fervent attention was akin to a starved man feasting, and his primal growls reverberated through your core, stirring a wild, untamed desire within you. Your fingers tangled in his greying hair as moans spilled from your lips, refusing to be contained.

You gazed downward, you saw his white eyes filled with enchanting mischief that sent a shiver of longing down your spine. With every passing moment, you inched closer and closer to the precipice, teetering on the edge of an impending ecstasy that promised to consume you entirely. There was no trace of fear, not even a fleeting second of doubt. In this captivating moment, fear was eclipsed by an overwhelming sense of vitality and desire.

You had never felt so alive… 

Alive.

Your eyes snapped open, and reality crashed in on you. The room felt stiflingly warm, and your breath came in laboured gasps. As you looked around, you realized that you were still in your own bed. It had all been a vivid, intoxicating dream. A wave of profound disappointment washed over you, leaving you with a lingering ache in your chest. The intensity of that dream had awakened desires and feelings within you like never before. In that ephemeral world, you had felt wanted, desirable, and perhaps even loved in a way you had never experienced in waking life. The contrast between the dream and reality left a bittersweet yearning.

The vivid memory of his touch, his heated breath against your skin, and the sensation of his tongue between your legs lingered in your mind, leaving your body burning with the memory of his passion. Who was this man? Have you encountered him before? Why did he feel so unearthly, so unlike any human? These questions swirled through your thoughts until you came to a realization: it was merely a dream, after all… wasn’t it?

Copia had entered your dreams that night. He was aware it was bad. But he was a demon for Lucifer’s sake, it was in his nature! And it’s not like he could control the reaction you had in your own dream.  He knew he could have frightened you, but you seemed so responsive… you wanted him. Copia had retreated into a corner of the room when you woke up. Why on earth did you have to wake up by the way? The demon was still mad with desire at this point and mad with love. You were so lovely, so sweet, how he longed to be near you again, to feel your warmth not only in your dream this time, to take you as his own…

Copia's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. You were absent that afternoon. You left about one hour ago, were you already back? The demon cautiously moved toward the entrance hall, his presence hidden in the darkness. He froze when he saw the one who had entered: your landlord, that disgusting man. Copia's spectral form quivered with unease as he watched the man climb up the stairs and enter your room. Copia followed him quickly, making sure to cause the loudest noises when climbing the stairs. But that did not seem to disturb the man who was already focused on his perverted purpose.

Copia found him opening your closet, and digging through your drawer. The man took a pair of panties in his hands and put them against his nose. It was too much for Copia, way too much He would not let someone disrespect you and pry on you in such a way. With a supernatural surge of power, the demon forcefully slammed the drawer shut on the intruder's hand, prompting a piercing cry of agony.

"What the...?" The intruder managed to utter before chaos ensued.

Before he could do or say anything else, Copia lunged forward, seizing the man's arm with his clawed fingers, his voice oozing menace.

"Seeking some thrills, your fucking pervert?"

The man spun around to witness the demon standing inches away. Copia bared pointed, razor-sharp teeth and let out a guttural snarl, resembling a monstrous, otherworldly feline. His eyes blazed with intensity, like the very fires of hell itself. A blood-curdling scream erupted from the intruder's trembling lips as he scrambled up the stairs, fleeing the house with the same haste with which he had arrived, knocking over some stuff in his flight. Copia chuckled darkly to himself, confident that, landlord or not, the man would never dare to disturb you again.

When you arrived back home, you were surprised to find the door unlocked. An feeling of unease crept over you. Had you genuinely forgotten to lock it, or was it your exhaustion playing tricks on your mind? You couldn't help but chastise yourself for being so tired and disoriented, especially after the vivid dream that had lingered in your thoughts.

As you cautiously entered the house, your eyes were drawn to a plant knocked over in the entry hall. It was a clear sign that something or someone had disturbed your home. You recalled your books, the ghost stories… you recalled everything that had happened since you moved in.

“Hello? I know you’re here…” you declared with a hint of hesitation in your voice

You climbed up the stairs to find the door to your room wide open. You were certain you had closed it.

"Did you do that? It's okay, I'm not mad..." you assured, as you moved through the house, searching for any sign of a presence. 

However, your calls went unanswered, and the eerie silence persisted. In a moment of impulse, without overthinking, you uttered a single name.

"Copia?"

You called the name repeatedly, a sense of longing in your voice, but there was no response. The silence in the house grew heavy, stretching into minutes. In a moment of self-doubt, you couldn't help but laugh at your own foolishness. How could you have thought that… 

But then, it all became clear. It hit you all at once. The pieces of the puzzle clicked together. The noises, the objects falling over, the figure at the window that night, the scratch marks, the trace of paint on your cheek, the dream… There had to be something in this house! And that thing was in your dream last night. But you were not afraid… for you felt he was not trying to hurt you. 

“I know you are here,” you repeated out loud “You cannot hide in the darkness forever…”

Silence.

“Please, show yourself… I just want to see you”

Silence again. 

Maybe you were going crazy… ?

You went about your day, trying to distract yourself by unpacking the last of the boxes. But your mind continued to drift, haunted by the vivid memories of your encounter with Copia. The sensation of being watched lingered, a disquieting feeling that refused to fade… but maybe your mind was playing tricks on you again? 

As the night wore on, sleep eluded you. Your thoughts were consumed by the memory of his eyes, the sensation of his breath against your skin, and the ghostly touch of his hands on your body. The longing became unbearable, and you found yourself unable to resist the yearning that had taken hold.

In the solitude of your room, your own hands began to trace a path across your body, traveling slowly down to your thighs. With your eyes closed, you conjured the image of him in your mind.

"Copia..." you sighed his name, a whispered plea.

Just as your hand slipped in your panties, a weight settled on your bed, and a presence made itself known. You opened your eyes to find him. He was hovering above you with a mischievous grin, a spark of desire flickering in his mismatched eyes. His gaze held a fiery longing but there was affection in eyes. A gasp of surprise escaped your lips, yet you remained still, enthralled by the intensity of the moment. Your cheeks were red to be caught in such an intimate moment… you knew he was watching you the whole time.

“Did you call for me, amore?”  his now familiar voice purred 

"Copia..." you whispered, your voice tinged with anticipation 

“Yes, amore… I have come for you, at last,”

His nose playfully nudged your neck as he pressed his body to yours. The sensations were so vivid that you couldn't help but question the dream-like quality of it all.

“Oh please, tell me this is not a dream…” 

"It's not, not this time…" he assured, his voice a soft murmur as he kissed the tender spot behind your ear. "Are you afraid of me?"

“No,” you said without hesitation. “Should I?”

He stopped kissing your neck to look at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of emotions.

You met his gaze with unwavering determination and reached out to touch his face. "I believe I know what you are, and it doesn't frighten me..."

“Oh, cara mia…”

He leaned in to kiss the corner of your mouth while his hands began to explore your body. The sensation felt so much more real than the dream you had…

“Why didn’t you come when I called you earlier?” you asked in a hushed tone.

“I hesitated. I did not want to scare you, amore… I felt so guilty when you found those scratches on your body…”

He sounded a bit sad, and you gently caressed his face.

“I don’t want you to go, cara. You… You are my light. I want you to stay with me.”

Your eyes went wide. You did not expect to see an unearthly creature like him in such a vulnerable state. 

“I won’t go…” you whispered “Not ever…”

He gave you a tender smile. 

“You are such a treasure… You were sent to me by Lucifer himself.”

His voice quivered with emotions as he spoke. His words made you blush. His hands resumed their exploration of your body. He pressed himself against you. Your body felt so warm, so hot. 

“Do you want me?” he whispered in your ear

He pressed open-mouthed kisses along your neck, his lips warm and eager.

“Let me have you…” he whispered, much like in the dream.

“Yes, Copia… please, take me.”

He wouldn't need to be asked twice. With a low, feral growl, he lifted your nightgown above your head, leaving you almost naked and exposed to him. He lunged forward and began to suck and lick on your breasts with fervour. You moaned loudly, the heady desire drowning out the thought that someone could hear you cry out. As he pressed his hips against you, you could feel the hardness of his arousal, and it sent shivers of desire cascading through your body. The intensity of the moment was almost overwhelming, as you surrendered to the raw, unbridled passion that consumed you both. He was worshipping your body like no one did before.

He straightened up to look at you.

“Belissima…” he murmured as his clawed hands went to your panties, hastily removing them 

You blushed profusely. 

“Why don't you finish what you started, cara mia?” he purred, gazing down at you with raw desire, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

“What... What do you mean?” you stuttered, your mind dizzy with want.

“Don't play innocent, my love… I saw you.”

You blushed even more when you finally understood what he meant. A mischievous smile played on his painted lips, he patiently waited. With your cheeks painted red, your hands moved toward your inner thighs once more. You began to touch yourself for him, your fingers playing on your pussy. Your eyes were not leaving his as you moaned, giving in to the irresistible allure of his desires. He started to undress before your eyes, this was only fueling your desire. He was so handsome in your eyes. 

“Copia…” you whispered as he stood naked before your eyes. Your voice quivered with pleasure. “You are so handsome…”

He beamed upon hearing your words, and you could swear you saw a hint of a blush on his painted features.

“You are beautiful, so beautiful…” he murmured, his voice heavy with desire as he watched you.

As you felt yourself getting closer to the edge, you sensed his hand gently covering yours.

“That's enough, cara… I think you need more than just your fingers.”

You nodded eagerly as he moved closer, settling between your opened legs. 

“You are gorgeous, mia amata… You are mine forever,” he whispered tenderly, his voice filled with love and affection.

He positioned himself, his cock near your entrance, playfully teasing you for a moment. Your restlessness under him drew a chuckle from his lips, and he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. 

“So eager… I love it” 

Then he pushed his cock inside you. You gasped, your moan catching in your throat. He entered you slowly, inch by inch until he was all the way inside. His glowing eyes were locked in yours. He was looking at you like you were the most precious jewel. 

“Such a good girl, taking me so well” he purred, his voice laced with desire

Copia's hips started to move languidly on yours, in a slow and sensual dance. His cock was stretching you so perfectly, reaching all the right spots. You were feeling so full, so whole. You pulled him closer as if you wanted to melt your body into his.

"Oh, you feel so good, amore"

He was not holding back his moan. He was very vocal, it was absolute music to your ears. His name spilled from your lips like a blasphemous prayer.  He started to pick up the pace, moving more passionately, more quickly. His low moans were now mixed with feral growls. But he was still so considerate with you, running his hand through your hair, caressing your skin. He was scratching your skin with his claws but you did not care… Sex had never felt so intimate before. He was thrusting inside you with such raw passion, it was nothing short of blissful.

"You were made for me," he said in between moans "You are mine, all mine!"

You felt it build up inside of you again.

“Copia! I’m going to…” you whimpered, throwing back in the pillow

“Me too, amore-ah!” 

Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. Your body quivered by pleasure as you clung into the sheets, your head was spinning as you fell into the arms of bliss. He gave a few more thrusts before his release. Your name escaped his lips as he spilled inside you, his clawed hand clutching your waist. You would certainly have bruises afterward but you couldn't care less. 

He fell onto you, breathing heavily, his head resting against your chest. You reached out to run your fingers gently through his hair. You both remained in this intimate embrace for a while, the sensation of pleasure still tingling on your skin. He hummed contentedly while you continued to stroke his hair.  With a gentle kiss on your forehead, he moved to lie down on the bed beside you. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight and affectionate embrace.

"Why did you knock over my favorite plant?" you asked after a moment, your voice laced with a hint of amusement; you were not angry at him.

You felt Copia stiffen against you.

"Uh... I didn't, amore..."

He tenderly ran his fingers through your hair. You gave him a confused look, waiting for him to explain.

"That disgusting man... your landlord who was at your doorstep a few days ago... he broke in while you were away."

He noticed the growing unease on your face.

"He behaved like a creep... I spare you the details. But I believe after what I did... he won't attempt it again..."

He kissed your forehead, a slight chuckle escaping his lips.

"I scared the shit out of him, I must admit..."

The discomfort and confusion transformed into amusement. You knew Copia had been protecting you, and you realized you were never truly alone. You knew you never would be again. And you were determined to show him that he would never have to walk alone again either.

"I'm with you always, my dear... I won't let anyone harm you," he whispered against your hair, "Never."

[stackslip]

CAN YOU ELABORATE ON TLT BEING A HOMESTUCK FANFIC‽‽‽‽‽

i'm exaggerating a bit, but taz muir was a well known homestuck writer who wrote under the username urbanAnchorite. her fic the serendipity gospels is one of my fave fics ever, but was never finished and it's only by book 2 of tlt that i figured that the clear allusions to it in book 1 weren't just cute little nods but that she'd expanded on some of the ideas/concepts and worldbuilding of the serendipity gospels. to name a few:

the ninth house cult is heavily based on the juggalo church muir wrote/expanded upon in TSG, from face paint to the rituals and a lot of the accompanying prose

act 2 of TSG takes place mainly in a spaceship that serves as "cathedral" of the juggalo cult, and is described to be covered in bones that have been painted in many colors--which is close to the description of the mithraeum

act 2 also features the two main characters being much younger people mentored/manipulated into horrible acts by an old man who is thousands of years old and bickering with his other thousand year old friends/enemies, who seem to share knowledge and understanding that neither the two protagonists do but also deeply resent one another. hard to not read a parallel to john and the lyctors here!

to elaborate on this bc i just realized it: it is heavily implied in TSG that the dancestors (older people thousands of years old) went through a universe reset and built the empire in the image of their own trauma and anger, which would v much parallel what happens to john on earth and how he "reset" humanity

less of a homestuck thing and more of a taz muir thing: said old man is v much grooming the main female character and making her life miserable during the entirety of act 2

a lot of the story takes place in the background of the trolls' empire being a horrific imperialist force that the main characters were originally very excited to join and become a part of, with one of these characters in particular daydreaming about becoming ground troop for invasion while also holding a terrible secret that would have precluded him of doing so anyway. p neat parallel to gideon's own thing here

act 1 and act 2 of TSG are from two different pov characters, with a drastic shift in prose style and understanding of the situation/world when the pov shifts. which v much echoes how tlt has worked so far. part 3 was barely started before it went on hiatus, but it followed the same pattern.

speaking of, the prose of act 2 of TSG definitely feels very close to harrow the ninth's prose. you can just open the fic and check the first chapter of act 2 and how it's written, and you'll see what i mean. there are differences--the prose of TSG act 2 is more inflected with southern usamerican evangelical speak, i think? i'm not american so i can't quite 200% tell

there is an external armed resistance to the empire's violent imperialism and resistance that was supposed to be the focus in act 3 of TSG, which never happened. nona the ninth did, though, and it follows that structure.

there are also eldritch horrors that threaten the entire universe--homestuck's own horrorterrors--that are in the background of TSG and implied to be an important part of the future plot that we never saw. tlt has the ressurrection beasts

taz muir's worldbuilding around the blood castes in og homestuck that she elaborates on in TSG also somewhat parallels the way the houses function in tlt

iirc there's also worldbuilding around space travel in tlt (such as the obelisks? i think that's the name? and the use of necromancy to power them) that parallels taz muir's own take on how space travel works in the troll empire, using psionics and draining them dry in a similar way

i think the necro-cav relationship 'ideal' is based around how taz also interpreted moirallegiance in not just TSG but all her homestuck fics, down to how its legal implementation and the idealization of it vs its role in troll/houses imperialism and the reality of blurred lines in "expected" relationships. i'd love to hear taz's discourse on troll romance

i also think the necro-cav relationship parallels the other legal pairing explored in TSG--legislacerator and subjugglator.

there are probably more parallels i am missing--i need to reread TSG soon, as i haven't in a while. there are elements i'd say are more like, how taz herself elaborated on the bones of the worldbuilding of homestuck and then made it her own thing, which is rad as hell. other elements are more fun nods, such as gideon's aviator glasses being shamelessly stolen from dave homestuck, and a lot of gtn's prose feeling very homestuckey. it's def not like, just a little rewrite and boom, you get the locked tomb! imo it's more elements of plot and worldbuilding that were interesting enough to develop into something of its own and that taz made into something new, along with other elements of other stories (such as lolita and umineko) being woven into it. part of why i enjoy tlt so much is its "collage" aspect, taking elements taz thought interesting in other stories, or using these elements to purposefully evoke specific feelings/moods to construct or obsfucate certain ideas.

[snitchcrimsonwrites]

Maybe pt. 7

Pairing: Norm MacLean X Female Reader or OC if you squint

Former friends to a relationship?

Life is pretty easy in Vault 33 until you're trying to rekindle a former friendship and Raiders attack. Now, our main characters are trying to navigate newfound feelings, all while undercovering the mysteries of Vault 33. Stay tuned. Follows the main storyline of season 1; some events may be reordered for plot.

Norm navigates his decision to aid Lucy's escape from the Vault with help from his friends, finding comfort and another demotion on the table.

Part 1 Here. Part 6 Here Part 12 Here

Part 2 Here Part 8 Here

Part 3 Here Part 9 Here

Part 4 Here Part 10 Here

Part 5 Here Part 11 Here

Norm had quite the day and was ready for it to end. The post-events of the raider attack and his sister leaving the Vault to find their dad had left him physically and emotionally exhausted. He didn’t know how much more he had left in him. So when he heard a soft knock at the door of his outer living space, he wasn’t sure if he was in the headspace to deal with a visitor inquiring about his dad… or sister, for that matter, as it wouldn’t be long before the word on her rescue mission got out. 

When the pressurized door unlocked, he was relieved to see it was you standing at the threshold. 

“Hey, I don’t mean to bother you,” you started, but he waved off your apology. “No, it’s alright. What’s going on?” He asked, genuinely curious. 

“I came by to check in and see if you needed anything or wanted to talk—or not talk,” you added quickly. “I can do that too if you want some company.” You fidgeted with your hair, not quite knowing how to word the next part. “I just know how weird going from a full house to an empty one can be,” you trailed off. 

Norm perked up at the thought of spending time with you; maybe he had a little more social battery left. “Yeah, actually, that sounds nice,” he mused, stepping aside to let you in. “Though, I don’t think I have it in me to do much talking. I can put something on if that’s alright with you?” 

“Sounds perfect,” you reply, moving into the MacLean’s living room and claiming a spot on the couch. 

Norm flipped on the Radiation King television set, the box coming to life with grey images of cowboys fighting gunslingers from an old copy of “The Man from Deadhorse,” his dad’s favorite already queued up. Immediately no. “Let’s try something else. Any requests?” Norm asked, not feeling like dredging up any emotions associated with putting on a Western. 

“Dealers choice.” 

“Communists from Space! It is,” Norm decides, grabbing the next available tape, popping it in, and joining you on the couch. 

The two of you start off silent, attempting to enjoy the film with the limited social interaction Norm requested, but before long, neither of you can resist adding your own color commentary to the events on the screen. 

“I’m confused,” you interrupt. “Doesn’t a communist invasion from space imply that the containment policy failed in Europe, Asia, and now space? They’re suggesting America is losing on all fronts.” 

Norm snorted. “I appreciate that your suspension of disbelief stops at American geopolitics and not at the fact that those space helmets aren’t connected to any source of oxygen.”

“I’m asking the real questions here, Norm,” you giggle back. 

“I think the bigger question you need to ask is how the communists even managed to get the alien forces on their side? Cause there’s no way there’s a shared language.”

“I’d guess propaganda and the universal promise of American government secrets,” you deadpan.  

That sent you both into a fit of roaring, sidebusting laughter. 

As the laughter subsides, Norm announces, “Thank you for this. I didn’t realize how much I needed it until now.” He was grateful for the company but also for your ability to make him feel whole after the events of the last couple of days. No obsessing over the concerns about his family or what you two saw in 32, just time he was able to be Norm. 

“Of course, if you haven’t noticed by now, I really enjoy our time together,” you say, unable to control the blush rising to your cheekbones. 

“I do, too, and I hope I’m not being presumptuous by saying I would like to continue spending more time like this together,” Norm stated, trying to gauge the status of where the two of you stood. Was this friendship, or were you moving into the “something more” territory?    

“Not presumptuous of you at all,” you affirm, taking the opportunity to position yourself closer to Norm on the couch. He stiffened slightly, surprised by the contact of your vault suit against his, but took your repositioning as a sign to wrap his arm around your shoulders, “Is this alright?” he questions, ever the gentleman. 

“Perfect,” you respond as you lean in to rest your head on his chest and watch the rest of the movie. 

Something more, alright, noted. 

________________________

Norm is awoken by the sound of static on the television set and is momentarily disoriented when he realizes one, this wasn’t his bed; he was out on the couch, and two, the weight on his chest preventing him from sitting up was you curled up under his arm sleeping at his side. The two of you had fallen asleep on the couch sometime during the second movie you put on. He eased back down onto the sofa, intent on enjoying the moments before you both woke up.   

Beep. Beep. Beep. 

He feels you stir at the sound of your alarm and begin to reach over him to shut off the device. No, just a few more minutes, he wished. 

“Sorry,” you manage sleepily, rolling the upper half of your body over Norm, grabbing the Pip-Boy, and quieting the beeping. Norm does his best to suppress his imagination from running wild over the nature of your position hovering over him as you turn off the alarm. In another swift motion, you move to sit up and stretch away some of the sleep. Norm does the same, hoping you won’t notice how much your simple actions affected him this morning. “I didn’t mean to stay the night and keep you out on the couch,” you continued, unsure if you overstayed your welcome. 

“If it means you staying over, I’d gladly take the couch,” Norm replies, causing both of your cheeks to redden. 

You linger, not wanting to leave but knowing you’d be late if you dawdled any longer. After checking the time on your Pip-Boy, you decide it’s time to get up from the sofa and move to the front entryway. “I’ve got to run and get cleaned up for work, but we can meet up after my shift if you’re up for it.” 

“Definitely,” Norm assures. Everything else in his life might be turned upside down, but this was his one piece of solace.

“Okay, it’s a date,” sealing your statement with a kiss on Norm’s cheek before pressing the release button on the door. As the door slid open, you both were surprised to see Chet waiting outside, arm raised, ready to knock on Norm’s door, and he looked equally as surprised to see you leaving the MacLean residence so early in the morning. You decide to play it off as nonchalantly as you can. 

You greeted Chet with a wave and a sweet, simple “Good Morning, Chet” as you hurriedly exited the hallway and headed toward your place. You trusted Norm could navigate a conversation with his cousin without your help. 

Chet didn’t wait for Norm’s invitation to enter. He rushed into the MacLean domicile, making sure you were out of hearing distance, before he exclaimed, “Now, what’s going on with that?!” Gesturing wildly towards the direction you left from. “You had (Y/N) stay over? When did that start?”

Norm sighed and closed the door behind him, not eager to try to explain himself to his cousin. “It’s not like that,” he said, emphasizing the suggestive “that” Chet implied. “Nothing happened; she came over to watch a movie, and we fell asleep. Nothing to tell,” he wrapped up with a shrug. He wasn’t optimistic about his chances of ending the conversation with that explanation.

Chet looked at him and said, “Come on, Norm. You and I both know that when you invite a girl over to watch a movie, you’re not actually doing much movie-watching.” 

“Gross,” Norm rebutted, knowing who the girl in question was. “Is this what you came over for? To traumatize me and dissect my relationship with (Y/N)?” 

Chet frowned, not because of Norm’s taunting but because he was reminded of why he was here in the first place. Norm’s love life was a welcome distraction from the news he had to share. “No, I was supposed to inform you that the Vault council has summoned us for a hearing this morning. I’m starting to  think they’re not pleased we helped Lucy.” 

“Of course, they’re not. Did you think they were going to be? That we’d help her escape the Vault, and they’d give us a thumbs up and a sticker?” Norm asked. There was no way he was that naive.

_____________________________

Norm waited outside in the hallway while Chet took his turn meeting with the council. Suddenly, the silence in the corridor was broken by the sounds of sobbing and hyperventilating from behind the door. He guessed the council had made their decision. 

The council room door slid up slowly, and Chet exited. His face was puffy, and his eyes were red from the bouts of crying behind closed doors. He wondered if they were particularly tough on him. 

Norm decides to do the polite thing and asks him if he’s okay, even though his emotional state clearly displays the answer. 

“You okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m being reassigned,” he replied with a strained thumbs up. “ You were right; the whole “opening the Vault door for Lucy” thing didn’t sit too well with the council, so I guess I’m not gatekeeper anymore,” he said, trying to hold his composure. 

 “It’s not a big deal.” Norm could see right through that lie. This was a massive deal. For most people in the Vault, their identity was intricately intertwined with the position they held in the Vault. Take that away, and you’ve got all the material for a full-blown identity crisis. 

“I’m just not really sure who I even am anymore. Sorry…I. Mmhm.” Chet couldn’t hold himself together any longer, excusing himself from the conversation. 

Woody appeared in the doorway, summoning him into the meeting.  “Norman, you’re next.” 

Norm finds his familiar seat in front of the council, and Reg wastes no time kicking it off. “You know why you’re in here?” 

“Cause I helped my sister escape the Vault.” Cause I couldn’t just ignore my family in trouble. 

“Escape?” Woody laughed. “ You and Chet put your sister in incredible danger by helping her out that Vault door. The rad levels up there alone….” 

“Worse,” Reg interjects, trying to highlight a larger point,” you could have killed us all. What do you think started all this? These Vaults are impenetrable, meaning that those raiders could have only gotten into Vault 32 because some bonehead opened the door to the surface.” He wasn’t like they didn’t take this into consideration, but some things are worth the risk.

Betty, who had been quiet until now, shooting Norm a glare that threatened to burn through him, piped up. “A single bad decision put everyone at risk, not just Vault 32 but 33 and 31 as well. I telegrammed with the Overseer at Vault 31. Thank goodness, they’re unscathed. But you could have destroyed the last vestiges of civilization.” 

“It was Lucy’s idea.” Maybe playing the dumb coward could work in his favor. 

“And you didn’t think to at least try and stop her?”

“No.” 

“What are we going to do with you?” Betty asked. He wasn’t quite sure if it was rhetorical.  

“You were going to reassign me a couple of weeks ago; move forward with that, I guess,” Norm resigned, but he was growing tired of the council’s hypocrisy, and the next lines just slipped out. “I’m just glad to hear that we punish people down here for breaking the rules. Is that just for Vault dwellers or people who come down here and murder vault dwellers?” He made his position on the matter as clear as possible. 

Betty smirked at his statement, “Now that I think of it, we’ve got a job for you, after all,” as if she had been waiting for a chance to punish his insolence. 

[punkeropercyjackson]

Duke:I'm sorry if this is invasive but are a guy or a girl?Or both or neither?Secret fifth thing?????

Hobie:Choose 'n change.I'm whatever you want me to be babygirl

Duke:I'M A DUDE

Duke:Keep calling me that though,i just wanted to let you know so it don't end up a mess

[tsarisfanfiction]

Consequences

Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians/Trials of Apollo Rating: Teen Genre: Family Characters: Lee, Apollo, Cabin Seven Apollo saved the camp from the Labyrinth invasion. Zeus punished him for it, turning him mortal two years early. That was a mistake. TOApril day 28 - Silent Thunder. Now, "silent thunder" isn't really a thing, because thunder is literally the term for the sound lightning makes. However, that doesn't mean we can't go a little metaphorical with this - after all, you could say that thunder is a consequence of lightning. And some people might recognise this AU from some things I've talked about before...

Lee was furious.

It was an unfamiliar feeling.  He irritated sometimes, and frustrated, and sometimes even angry, but fury?  That wasn’t one of his normal emotions, not something he thought he’d ever actually felt before, but what else could it be?  What else was the feeling of something bubbling up inside him violently, seething through his veins and making his teeth ache as they clenched without his permission, if not for pure, unabated, fury?

But Lee couldn’t show it.

He was an awful liar, and he’d never known if that was a side effect of his truth-sensing, something else from his dad, or just an unrelated part of his personality, but being head counsellor and head healer had taught him how to push feelings down, out of sight until it was safe to show them.  And now?  Now was not safe.

His dad was frustrated, too.  Maybe angry, but if he was, Lee couldn’t tell.  Even if he was, he wasn’t lashing out, either, not in a way that mattered.  Apollo could spout lies about regretting his intervention in the war, in wishing he hadn’t when it had so clearly got him punished, but that was all they were.  Lies.

Lies didn’t hurt Lee anywhere near as much as cherry-picked truths did.  Even if it had forced him to admit his secret to his siblings, promise them that their dad didn’t mean the injured words he was lashing out.  They were all familiar with frustration, with lashing out in anger – gods knew Michael did it enough, even if he’d got a lot better at taking it out at inanimate objects that people than when he was ten.  They just weren’t familiar with it from their dad’s mouth.

Lee wasn’t, either, but that was just more fuel to his ire, to the raging fury bubbling up inside him with every breath he took, and with every word he spoke.

“Apollo,” he said, his voice carefully level – his Head Counsellor voice, for when his siblings were getting a little too rowdy and he needed them to listen, a voice he’d had to use more and more frequently as the war accelerated, from missing campers to poisoned borders to an invasion designed to kill them all.

Might have killed them all, if Apollo hadn’t shown up in as much godly glory as he could in front of mortals and slaughtered everything that even tried to hurt the camp he’d once founded, still protected millennia later – against orders, against the king of Olympus – and then paid a price for.

Lee knew the stories, as he stared down at the messy, injured lump of inelegant teenager in front of him – gods, he was taller than his dad, now.  Taller and older than his physical form, and neither of those had ever been true before.  He knew the stories, and they’d had a meeting about it, the head counsellors, now the war leaders, of the camp.  The choice had been unanimous.

“I, Lee Fletcher, claim your service.”

Eyes looked up at him in betrayal, a deep blue that widened, as though Lee’s words had hurt far worse than any of the multitude of physical injures the mortal body of his father had taken.  Maybe they did.

He could tell his siblings were looking at him in various expressions, too, from the aghast gasps of those that hadn’t put all the clues together yet, to the grumbles of the ones that still hadn’t quite forgiven Apollo his lashing out, to the pained understanding of the most experienced.

Lee hated that he had to do it, too, that he had to trap his own father to his bidding, but the alternatives weren’t worth even considering.  If one of Kronos’ demigods got Apollo’s service…

Well.

Lee couldn’t think like that.  Not when he was angry, at Kronos but also at Zeus, because this was his fault, and the head counsellors had all recoiled in physical horror when the logical solution hit them.  That Apollo had been punished for saving them, that Zeus had decided intervening to save demigods from near-certain destruction was a worse crime than attempting to destroy them in the first place.

That Zeus would have preferred for them to be destroyed.

Apollo was looking up at him in betrayal, choking on protests and his eyes filling with tears that were barely holding on from spilling down his acne-ridden cheeks – Lee needed to get him some treatment for that, it looked like Zeus had inflicted Apollo with the itchy and painful type – but Lee felt the betrayal in his own heart, too.

No-one at camp was naïve enough to think that any god cared about them, except in some cases their own godly parent, but there was a difference between not caring and this.

Apollo was one of the good ones.  He always had been, and after last summer there wasn’t a single camper that didn’t believe it.  Zeus, clearly, was not one of the good ones.

Lee wasn’t naïve enough to think demigods could take revenge, though.  Taking down a god was beyond them, but saving a god?  Saving one of their own, because that was what Apollo – Lester, according to the ID he’d been carrying and that the Stolls had scoffed at as a bad forgery that would have got him caught and in trouble the moment the wrong person looked at it – was, now.  He was scared and mortal, and that made him fit right in with the rest of camp.

Saving a god, they could do, and that meant getting Apollo’s divinity back to him, somehow.

Unfortunately, none of them had a clue how to do that.  Mr D had been singularly unhelpful on the matter, not even caring to linger in their emergency meeting after he’d determined that the topic – Apollo’s current situation – was none of his concern.

Lee disagreed vehemently, but he couldn’t take down a god.  Pollux and Castor had muttered about trying to get him to see reason, but for all that Mr D was known to be good to his own kids, Lee had no hope that they would succeed on this issue.  They were without any godly help, but really, what was new?

Gods, he was starting to sound like Michael.  Or Clarisse.

Speaking of Michael, the eldest of his younger siblings had come up to stand next to him, pinning Apollo with a look that Lee didn’t need to see to know it was there as their father let out protests at Lee’s claim.

There was no mistaking the validity of Lee’s claim, though.  Not when his words had provoked a low grumble from the skies, one that was easier to feel in his bones than hear with his ears.  For whatever reason, Lee’s claim had been sealed, and he was now his father’s master.

If there was a way to make Zeus regret that, make him regret the whole situation, then Lee would hunt it down and make it happen.

But first, his priority had to be his dad, the pathetic younger body in front of him whose tears were now spilling freely down pasty cheeks studded with red and black and yellow spots.  No matter how furious Lee was, he wasn’t mad at his dad, didn’t think he could ever be mad at his dad.

“I’m sorry,” he said, reaching forwards and pulling him into a hug, like he was a touch-starved little brother and not his father.  “I’m sorry, Dad.”

Apollo resisted, wriggling in his grip, but call Lee selfish.  He didn’t let go.  “Why?” he wailed, voice cracking and sounding so far from the melodic voice that sang in his dreams that Lee had to close his eyes and force himself to imagine it was his dad’s usual, beautiful voice.

“There are too many demigods I don’t trust,” Lee murmured, gentle but aware it would still be heard by everyone in the cabin.  “Too many that listened to words from the Pit, and if any of them claimed you…”  Apollo went rigid in his arms, as though the possibility hadn’t occurred to him.  Some of Lee’s siblings gasped, too, putting the same connection together.  “I couldn’t leave you free, Dad.  Not with that risk.”

And he couldn’t have let any of his siblings take the responsibility.  Lee was the eldest, the head counsellor.  It was his job to protect his family, and if that meant taking on this burden, then he would do it.

“I know,” Apollo said, miserably.  “I hate it.”

There was no lie there, but that didn’t make Lee any happier.  None of this did.

He couldn’t take down a god, but if he could ever work out how to make Zeus regret this…

A glance around the cabin, at his gathered siblings, showed nothing but silent agreement.

If they could make Zeus regret this, then they would.

[crediblebombthreat]

I forgot how good of a bossfight Mohg is

Fought him last night on an under-leveled and under-geared dex character. So I actually had to pay close attention. I remember liking him, but I forgot why he's up there with Ludwig in my personal favorite Fromsoft bossfights.

He just has so much going for him as a secret boss. Every angle of the game, despite giving you an unhinged amount of freedom to go and do as you please, has some sort of Mohg residue on it. All paths lead to Mohg.

The first NPC you talk to -- Varre, the one that people who haven't even played Elden Ring know about -- is a devotee to Mohg. After you kill a Demigod, Varre moves to Liurnia, and sets up shop at this sick Blood Church. He tells you to invade people and ruin their evenings. He hypes up Mohg. After you do three invasions (even if you get your shit slapped) he gives you an item to teleport to Mohg's mausoleum...and it's this massive underground structure you saw like 15 hours ago in your playthru because you forgot about Varre until halfway through Leyndell. Mohg is there. He is everything you wanted.

Or you never talked to Varre or you killed him because he talked shit and called you a virgin. And instead you read about this secret child of Marika. And then you fight him and he's Morgott. THEN you read that he had a twin. And that twin is evil and rebelled against the Golden Order. But Gideon thinks he's a delusional freak. 10 hours later you get the Lord of Blood Exaltation talisman and upon reading the description you're like "who the fuck is this guy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" and start ripping out your hair. And then you unlock a secret area: the special unrevealed part of the map in the Snowfield that leads to the Haligtree of Miquella -- another character that's dripping from the lore, and who is closely related to this mysterious Mohg "The Lord of Blood" fellow. And while exploring the area you stumble upon this blood-soaked teleporter and you're like "no." And it teleports you to this bloody swamp area in the undergound and you're like "no." And then he's there, and you fight him and he does a little countdown halfway through the fight and you can't avoid it and it kills you. What?? And then a couple of hours later when you're trying to make sure you got everything for the final boss, you see a square on your map that you now know signifies a church. And you see one in the Altus Platau! And a blood-themed NPC invades you and you're like "no." And you get this crystal tear. And its description is as follows: Can be mixed in the Flask of Wonderous Physick. The resulting concoction purifies the curse from Mohg, Lord of Blood's terrifying rite of blood. Tell me, would you lose your mind? Would you flip the fuck out?

Or maybe neither of these apply, and you've just read about him here and there. And you go through the Leyndell sewer in search of forbidden knowledge. And then who else is there but fucking Mohg! You've heard your friends talk about him, you've heard him hyped up, and he's here and it seems fake. Your friends said he was in an underground area, this is a sewer. That feels different. You whip his ass and you get towards the Frenzied Flame and you're like "ok. but this isn't blood...it's crazy. who was that blood guy? why was he here?" And then you go back and look for info on him and soon enough you've also caught the brainrot and you have to hunt this guy down and kill him or else you might go insane.

If these sound off-puttingly specific, it's because they're all different ways that my friends who played Elden Ring experienced the buildup to Mohg. It's inescapable. And his bossfight -- I haven't even mentioned his bossfight -- it's insane. The way he gently talks to Miquella and then his voice changes to a gravelly malice when speaking to the tarnished. The way he fucking counts down in latin to zero before doing his phase 2 animation. He grows wings. He's gay. His moveset is dramatic and theatrical -- he looks like he's enjoying putting on a show for a stranger. He puts a curse on you. He's so lonely. His boss weapon is fucking sick even after being nerfed a billion times. His theme is excellent. He's weak to bleed, but either him or you bleeding in his presence gives him 20% extra damage! That fight mechanic is so fucking sick, and it plays into his characterization so fucking well! He has absolutely everything!

I dunno. I've never played Kingdom Hearts, but Mohg gives me the same sort of shock and awe a 10-year-old in 2002 might've felt fighting Sephiroth. Like, if you're never gonna play Elden Ring take like 30 minutes to watch Jerma's video on Mohg. His childlike wonder wonderfully communicates the slow buildup of Mohg Madness you get over like 80-90 hours of gameplay.

[incongruence-osaf]

EXCITING NEWS, SECRETS SHARED

Hello!! It is time for me to officially post the first two chapters of my first ever multi-chapter fanfiction story, The Incongruence of Stars and Flowers!!!

So far the word count has reached over 8,000 words, roughly 21 pages at 1.15 spacing (including the current WIP of Chapter Three). This was a huge challenge for me that I am so glad to have started. I'd been keeping this (mostly) a secret for many months during a collaborative creative process.

It started when I saw an application for Sonic Big Bang 2024 zine on Tumblr. Around 300 participants of fellow writers, artists and readers were sorted into secret groups of 2-4ish for developing writing and artwork surrounding story submissions! I had the pleasure of being paired with wonderful artists who made beautiful sketches, concept art, and illustrations based on my writing, linked here: @major-wren (ART) (ART) and @pastelspindash (ART)

Go check out their awesome art (and writing) as well as all the other amazing creatives featured in the zine on the official blog page @sthbigbang! My awesome and very helpful beta readers were/are @starredfishing (Tumblr) and @zaffretension (Instagram) who gave me excellent advice about dialogue, pacing, and plot. THANK YOU!!!

And also a big THANK YOU to the moderators of this expansive event for keeping it running so smoothly, for organizing everything, and for encouraging all of us in one of the most supportive and energizing creative environments I've ever been apart of!!! I have talked to many cool and talented people and I love the community that we have all been growing as a massive group.

I am excited to continue the adventure of learning, reading, and writing to see where this adventure goes with familiar characters. If you are too, I hope you enjoy <3

Without further ado, below is the summary for The Incongruence of Stars and Flowers.

This alternate universe combines the vibrant world and history of Sonic the Hedgehog with our very own, resulting in a version of Planet Mobius that’s both familiar and distant. Yet, this altered reality is neither idealized nor greater than the sum of its parts. 

Anthropomorphic beings, humans, and animals of Mobius are struggling to rebuild their cityscapes, ecosystems, communities, and personal lives in the wake of the cumulative devastation of the Perfect Chaos Flood and the Black Arms Invasion. Shadow the Hedgehog takes a leave of absence from G.U.N. to temporarily settle down in Station Square, laying low after the world-shattering encounter with his alien DNA donor Black Doom. While the cityfolk around him undergo the growing pains of instability, nonconformity, sociological upheaval, and corruption, so too does the alien hybrid. With the support of unyielding friendship in aloof activist Sonic the Hedgehog and cultured confidante Rouge the Bat, Shadow coasts in this new life chapter while feeling profound pulls to unravel memories surrounding his loving creator, Professor Gerald Robotnik and solve mysteries within his environment, mind, and body.

Past and present perspectives interweave to show slices of unordinary lives, drawing from early-to-mid 2000s culture shifts/natural disasters/political tensions, U.S. and European history, and various fields of science as inspiration for this multi-chapter science-fiction drama mystery.

PROMINENT CHARACTERS: 

Shadow the Hedgehog, Sonic the Hedgehog, Rouge the Bat, Professor Gerald Robotnik, Maria Robotnik, Black Doom(?), Commander Abraham Tower, Helen (from Sonic X)?, and new original character(s)

Body dysmorphia and dysphoria, racism/speciesism, internalized xenophobia, mentions and possible depictions of police violence, generational trauma, trauma and imagery from medicalized settings, processing grief

TRIGGER WARNINGS:

CHAPTER ONE HERE

[unicornofthesun13]

Brooklynn and Maisie sibling headcanons

Brooklynn introduced Maisie to Ester Stone after months of Maisie teasing her about her special interest. Now, some of their conversations consist entirely of quotes. It's like a secret language.

Maisie and Darius get along really well. Sometimes when Darius comes over to see Brooklynn, he spends half the time talking dinosaurs to Maisie

When the clone thing comes out Brooklynn teaches Maisie how to handle the media. Especially how to stay calm in the face of invasive questions about her family

(She also teaches them how to hack but their parents don't need to know about that one)

Brooklynn calls her Mai and she is the only one allowed to do so without being scowled at or worse

They never officially come out to each other. One day Brooklynn just asks 'wait what are your pronouns again?'

Maisie has a posters of Dr. Wu and Eli Mills up in their room that they both throw darts at when they're angry.

They're incredibly in tune to each others nightmares and will often wake up in time to stop the screaming

Some nights, when Maisie's claustrophobia is really bad, they sit on the roof until the sun comes up and Brooklynn tells her about all the cool places in the world.

They listen to horror podcasts and true crime together

They share social cues they've learned with each other. 'Did you know when people ask how you are they don't actually want to know???' 'Yeah had to learn that one the hard way.'

Maisie was very shocked to learn London and England are nothing like how Iris described it.

Sometimes they fight, when Brooklynn is terrified they're turning out too much like her

('You deserve a childhood, Mai! One without all this shit.' 'Well maybe that's not your choice to make.')

The only times Maisie feels really bad about what she did freeing the dinosaurs is when seeing one out in the wild triggers Brooklynn.

They cannot hide secrets from each other. Both because they know each other well and because neither of them can resist snooping to save their lives (sometimes literally I guess)

[the-hopefulpenguin]

The Problem of the Earth Kingdom

I’ve been doing some more thinking about Avatar geopolitics and I’ve settled upon a bit of an overarching theory - that the Earth Kingdom is the seat of every war in the last two centuries plus of the Avatar universe.

This is not to say that the Fire Nation, in particular, does not bear culpability for the Hundred Year War; they absolutely do; but rather that the geopolitical problem posed by the Earth Kingdom is one which policymakers have grappled with throughout the shows and books, to limited success. In brief, it is this: a strong Earth Kingdom is too powerful; a weak one is too unstable. As a result, policymakers in the Caldera, Republic City, the Water Tribes, and the White Lotus have struggled to find an effective balance - and repeatedly failed to do so.

To prove this, I would like to do give a history of major conflicts in Avatar and why they link back to this central problem of the Earth Kingdom.

THE PLATINUM KING Our first piece of evidence is the Platinum Affair and subsequent rule of Earth King Feishan in the late 5th and early 4th centuries BG. These inferences are drawn noting that we have relatively limited textual evidence from the period.

The inciting incident was a prolonged civil war in the Earth Kingdom, between the armies of the Earth King Feishan and a General Nong. The origins of the conflict are unclear, but we do know that it was protracted, with neither side seeking a decisive engagement. This had a negative impact on trade and potentially international stability.

As a consequence, the Water Tribes and Fire Nation began to fund General Nong in secret - the intention appearing to be to have him win and end the fighting, with a friendly regime in Ba Sing Se. In other words, foreign powers refused to tolerate instability in the Earth Kingdom, and so intervened.

Unfortunately for Agna Q’ela and the Caldera, Feishan ultimately won the civil war at the Battle of Llamapaca’s Crossing, which revealed the funding scheme and foreign culpability in it. The Earth King responded by embargoing on the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom, with only four cities permitted to handle a limited throughput of foreign trade. Internationally mobile elites (the shang merchants) in these cities, seeking to break free of the Earth King, attempted to develop new forms of bending - risking international stability in the process. Feishan also considered invasions of the other powers due to cooled relations. This is an example of how a strong, centralised Earth Kingdom provoked resistance from its periphery and fear abroad.

THE FIFTH NATION Our next piece of evidence is centred on the late fourth and early third centuries BG - the rise and fall of the Fifth Nation, a major group of corsairs operating off the southern coast of the Earth Kingdom.

Our textual sources on their rise to prominence are somewhat patchy. We know that there was a long history of sea-banditry in the region, but by the time of Yangchen, they were powerful enough for the Avatar to personally sign a treaty with them to secure an agreement not to attack the coasts of the Earth Kingdom. It is probable that their willingness to sign a deal with Yangchen was as much to do with fear of a united Earth Kingdom under Feishan as it was terror of the Avatar. After all, Yangchen’s treaty makes no mention of at-sea piracy; only that which directly targets the Earth Kingdom.

However, the end of the Feishan dynasty - it is unclear if this is the death of Feishan himself, or an immediate successor - led to the Wars of Secrets and Daggers, a succession of assassinations and palace coups from at least 306-296 BG which killed at least seven royals. This chaos was exploited by the Yellow Neck Uprising and led to rising status among regional magnates such as Jianzhu - who ultimately crushed the Yellow Necks at the Battle of Zhulu Pass. In short, the late fourth century BG saw a complete collapse in central Earth Kingdom authority.

The Fifth Nation was quick to exploit this, defeating the Earth Kingdom fleet in open combat and establishing maritime hegemony in the Eastern Ocean. They failed to expand into the Mo Ce, largely due to the actions of the Fire Nation, who stepped up their patrols to counter the pirate threat. The Fifth Nation was ultimately destroyed by Avatar Kyoshi and an aggressive maritime counterinsurgency campaign waged by the Fire Nation. In other words, the failure of Earth Kingdom stability exported a severe maritime security challenge which required sustained Calderan intervention to resolve.

SOZIN’S FEAR, OZAI’S FOLLY I've presented my argument about the origins of the Hundred Year War previously, so I will not dwell on it - the above article is a richer explanation. In brief, however, from the crisis of the fourth century, the Earth Kingdom began to enjoy a slow revival in fortunes through the third and second centuries - largely due to the actions of Avatar Kyoshi. By the first century BG, it is plausible that Ba Sing Se’s authority was once more reaching into its maritime periphery along the Mo Ce coastline.

For a Fire Nation used to trading privileges and political influence in this part of the Earth Kingdom, this could be seen as an immediate infringement. Moreover, the example of Feishan suggests that a united Earth Kingdom could threaten the core interests - perhaps even sovereignty - of the Fire Nation. Sozin therefore invaded the Earth Kingdom not to exterminate it, but to secure Fire Nation interests in the periphery and limit the Earth Kingdom’s united power.

Unfortunately for the Fire Nation, the Earth Kingdom proved more cohesive than they had assessed, and the war ground on for decades until Ozai, a strategically inept Fire Lord, mobilised a big enough coalition against him to end in a defeat for the Fire Nation - one actively enabled by the Avatar.

SWORD OF THE CALDERA But for the Fire Nation, defeat in war led to victory in peace. Fire Lord Zuko swiftly renounced overt rule on the continent, but defended Fire Nation privileges all the same - deploying an army to the continent in 101 AG to face down a royal force under Earth King Kuei. This crisis was settled by Avatar Aang, and led to the creation of the United Republic, carved out of Earth Kingdom territory along the Mo Ce periphery.

But, as discussed elsewhere, the United Republic was only nominally independent. In practice, it was heavily tied into the cultural and economic world of the Fire Nation - to the point that the commander-in-chief of its military is a Fire Nation prince. It is unclear if Zuko personally intended this, but it is a defensible position to argue that the United Republic was created to weaken the Earth Kingdom.

And weaken it, it most likely did. By the late 2nd century AG, the Earth Kingdom is experiencing a serious domestic crisis, on the order of the crisis of the late fourth/early third century BG. Even the movement of tax revenues to Ba Sing Se is seriously in doubt due to bandit activity, while local magnates such as Suyin of Zaofu wield immense power. It is probable that the United Republic played a role in this - it deprived the Earth Kingdom of much of the lucrative Mo Ce trade, and served as a constant demonstration of Ba Sing Se’s weakness.

This was all well and good for the Fire Nation and other international actors, who had reason to fear a strong Earth Kingdom. But the situation spiralled out of control with the assassination of Queen Hou-Ting, and an enfeebled Earth Kingdom which did not pose a foreign threat collapsed into anarchy.

UNITY & DISASTER Clearly, something had to be done - instability in the Earth Kingdom threatened trading relations and fostered transnational threats such as the Red Lotus. The international community was unwilling to deploy their own troops into the Earth Kingdom to restore order, so; much like with General Nong centuries earlier; they selected a proxy to do it for them: Kuvira.

The global strategic intent seems clear. Prince Wu was a United Republic-friendly candidate for the throne. Kuvira, legally empowered and supported with money and weapons, would re-unite the Earth Kingdom. She would then step aside and let Wu take the throne, where he would reign over a stabilised but non-threatening Earth Kingdom.

Unfortunately for this plan, Kuvira refused to hand over power, instead forming the revanchist Earth Empire and setting her sights on conquering the United Republic. This was not megalomania but rather geopolitics; for the Earth Kingdom to be strong, the Fire Nation-backed intrusion on the Mo Ce periphery must be repulsed. There are certainly shades of Feishan’s embargo policy to be found in Kuvira’s approach. Kuvira was, however, subsequently defeated by the Avatar and the United Forces, ending the immediate territorial threat to the United Republic.

RUINS OF THE EMPIRE In light of this challenge, the policy approach changed - the Earth Kingdom would be abolished, and instead be broken up into a set of independent, democratic states. On the surface, this resolves the too strong/too unstable paradox which plagued foreign policy calculations for centuries. In practice, it is highly likely to lead to further violence.

There is little tradition of local democracy in the Earth Kingdom, but extensive examples of military magnates and warlords assuming control in the absence of centralised authority. The aftermath of Kuvira’s conquests, as we see in Ruins of the Empire, left substantial stockpiles of sophisticated weapons available. The division of a large, multi-ethnic empire into smaller states is a difficult process likely to lead to grievance and dissent. And all this is not to mention the threat of spirit vine weapon proliferation.

The future of the Earth Kingdom, far from looking like a democratic paradise, probably involves a chaotic mixture of shaky democracies and outright autocracies vying for position. If any one of the successor states can gain enough power, they may well attempt to follow Kuvira, and Chin, and Feishan, in consolidating imperial rule over the whole Earth Kingdom.

For foreign powers, then, far from solving anything with this new step, they have simply fired the starting pistol on the latest round of Earth Kingdom instability - which is likely, in the best case, to generate transborder threats requiring action; and in the worst case, lead to the consolidation of the Earth Kingdom behind a new, revanchist leader, and the outbreak of another major conventional war.

[iamonlyhereforthefood]

Guardian opinion pieces can be very hit-and-miss, but this one is so good, it made me almost cry. I rarely see something so relatable in western media.

It’s December 1989 and a young woman is sitting in a Bucharest theatre, watching a sold-out performance of Hamlet. The air is laden with danger. “Something is rotten in the state of Denmark,” Marcellus is about to say. Nearly 35 years later that woman, my mum, still remembers how electric the atmosphere inside the theatre was.

Everyone knew exactly what the line meant, but no one uttered a peep. It was common knowledge that secret police agents were watching. Any hint of support for Marcellus’s words guaranteed arrest. On that day in early December, my mum couldn’t have imagined that within weeks, the Ceaușescu dictatorship would be over. That we’d always have enough food in the fridge, freedom of speech, freedom of choice over our bodies, agency. That support for a line of Shakespeare wouldn’t mean arrest. That we’d be free. That I’d be sitting here, writing this, to you.

It’s December 1990 and my mum, our five suitcases, my pink potty and I have arrived in Luxembourg: straight into the heart of one of the EU’s founding member states. We were part of that first wave of eastern European migrants, bursting out of communist straitjackets, full of hope for the future. Full of ambition for the future. Full of future.

I got lucky. I think about the generations of women who’ve come before me: my great-grandmother, orphaned during the first world war, whose farm was expropriated by the communists after the second world war, and who died never having tasted freedom.

My grandmother, denied university entry based on her parents being “enemies of the people”, spent her entire youth and adulthood under a totalitarian regime, and was an elderly woman by the time it fell. Her generation was forced to learn Russian. And she did, refusing to learn the meaning of the words, memorising entire military marches phonetically. In her later years, she could still recite them and we’d all sing along in gibberish-Russian. A futile, but ridiculously delightful middle finger at the past. My mum, still a young woman when it all came crashing down. And then me. A toddler.

It’s December 2008 and I’m an acting student at Drama Centre London, doing a scene from Hamlet. Neither my great gran, nor my gran nor my mum would have ever thought I’d be able to cross all of those borders – no guards, no barbed wire – to train in the UK. It wasn’t a given. During the 1944 Moscow conference, Churchill and Stalin divided up Europe, and Romania fell to the Soviets. After the second world war many Romanians, including my family, were still praying for the US army to free them from the Soviets. A pipe dream. And yet, decades later, here I was. From Bucharest to Luxembourg to London.

With the EU elections under way, I can’t help but think of rising anti-EU sentiment. I’m certainly not dismissing criticism of the EU, but something about it feels off. While all of us, here in western Europe, have the freedom to debate the EU’s validity, others are risking their lives for a chance to be part of it. They know all too well what it means to live in Russia’s so-called sphere of influence.

As Russia was packing troops on the border with Ukraine, preparing the full-scale invasion, politicians from Poland and the Baltic states were raising the alarm with their western European colleagues. Their concerns were dismissed. Luxembourgish politician Charles Goerens later candidly admitted: “We thought at the time they were paranoid, but that’s not the case at all. They’d analysed the situation accurately and I think we’ve all, collectively, failed.”

So on Sunday 9 June, as Luxembourg votes, I’ll be thinking of those fighting in Ukraine, of those protesting in Georgia, putting themselves on the line to one day have what we now often seem to take for granted. I’ll be thinking of the millions behind the iron curtain who never got to experience freedom, and all those who know its fragility so very intimately. I’ll be thinking of 1945, when eastern Europe fell to the Soviets to the resounding sound of silence from the other Allies. When the Soviets came into Romania, my great-grandma managed to fight off one of their soldiers who’d broken into her home. Others, who weren’t as lucky, faced the worst. A common crime, unpunished to this day. The Soviets were, after all, Allies. They’d come to liberate the locals. I sometimes fear we’re stuck in a loop.

The glossing over of crimes against humanity perpetrated in the eastern bloc has always been particularly vicious and, I’d argue, unhelpful in fostering true understanding between east and west. When I was 17, I went on a school trip to Berlin. I remember the utter disbelief on seeing street vendors on every corner peddling Soviet nostalgia wares. Brooches and fur hats with the hammer and sickle, flags and numerous other little trinkets for happy customers to wear or give others. Harmless relics of the past. In the late 90s, there was a fashion of CCCP-marked T-shirts, a mere brief decade after the atrocities perpetrated by that regime. Today one can buy a cookbook titled L’Archipel du Goulache, recently featured on French national radio, its title a pun on another relic of the past, Solzhenitsyn’s The Gulag Archipelago. How ironic, considering the famines in the eastern bloc.

These days, it seems to me that we’ve forgotten the meaning of words. “Dictatorship” gets thrown around a fair bit. Have we forgotten the meaning of democracy and what was needed to get here? I wonder if we’re reaching for the top shelf, because we’ve forgotten that democracy doesn’t mean we each get our way all of the time and that the freedoms we’re currently enjoying need continuous maintenance work. On 9 June, I’ll be thinking of a Europe acquainted with its past, offering a visionary future. That’s why this European dreamer will remember the empty fridge when casting her vote, the taste of freedom and the unfathomable journey her pink potty made in December 1990. The rest will, hopefully, not be silence.