#to all of my followers AND the person who made the post!!!

[osakanone]

I read and agree with 95% of your post.

Prefacing: You're great. You are wonderful, I am now following your very good posts and I am a ball of weird neurotic energy that has to get this off my chest.

Why?

TheHorrors™ as of late have made me need to explain this like five times in four days.

Writing it like this means we can discuss it, i can link a post and people who need to see it can see it and I can get on with my life instead of having a redundant talk.

I might add citations pictures, etc etc later but I've already spent 45 minutes writing and re-writing this and I need to get this out of my system.

Once again, you're great and the fustration inside the response is not directed at you but at the issue itself.

You? Wonderful. Glorious poster. Evil baby. Delightful. Much love. Excellent Blorbo choices.

Issue? Shitty. Fills me with outrage. Paradoxical. MurderDeathKill.

Okay? Okay: rant begin:

The problem is "atomized individualism"...

1) Has a really well known and distorted meaning in libertarian circles you're probably unaware of which says "we're very rational and we never get emotional, and if I've got mine fuck you" coming from John Locke who quietly leaves out the "equality" part. 2) Actually self-defeating and paradoxical (I'll explain this)

Atomism claims everybody is

self-interested, self-sufficient and that altruism (being nice for the sake of being nice) is purely performative -- and that in functinal applied practice, asking for help or having systems to fall back on is inherently not-ok because you're not being the platonic ideal of the atomism (this is actually how familial orders emerge, instead of socialized safety-nets).

The fine text is also supposed to state that every member is equal which kind of contradicts the idea that the individual is pushed first; if you have more resources than others, your ability to execute on your individuality is inherently unequal.

It boils down to "the individual" vs "every individual" which gets very very messy.

It should mean freedom from bad things (over-exposure, abuse, starvation, etc, etc) not freedom to do bad things -- but this is where things start to get dicey.

Individualism claims the individual is the primary source of all value, and that the individual is always rational -- with the applied caviat that if anybody is acting irrationally, they lose their individuality.

You're gonna see a lot of applied caviats. Things which sound good on paper, but play out in really really messy ways in real people as side-effects of value-systems which then become the main goals of said systems when they benefit the people upholding those systems.

Combining atomization and individualism, you get...

"I am entirely rational, I am the only source of value, I am self-sufficient, and I am concerned with myself, and anybody who disagrees with me is irrational, because I am rationality defined"

So to go over the freedom part again:

This plays out as...

"uhhh yeah its a philosophy that means its good for me to not pay my taxes, because taxes are evil because they hurt me personally and specifically as an individual by subtracting my explicit capacity to execute on my self-interest (eg, get thing)"

This the mentality of your Peter Thiels, your Elon Musks, and your Donald Trumps. People who only see the "the divine right of kings" as wrong because they themselves are not the kings.

Wait, this is a lot, how did we get to this???

Their definitions ignore that most social definitions and benefits come from implicit attitudes and behaviors we do unconsciously (since humans spend most of their time running in a kind of autopilot called automaticity).

We learn this implicit automaticity from being raised, cared for, socialized, taught, and forgiven. They are hard to measure with a utility function mathematically, because they're hazy and vague and are often the root of interpretations of words (as we've experienced here, with this very thread).

Explicit attitudes are those which happen at the conscious or aware level: Its when you know you have to do something, or you haven't engrained something so you do it performatively out loud. This is significantly easier to measure with a utility function and is a huge part of how the legal system functions, and why the legal system assumes all actors (people) are rational.

Spoilers: All "rational" decision-making neurologically speaking originates from urges and feelings, and is then packaged and organized into "rationality".

Nobody human is rational; there are only rationalizers. Anybody who claims to be rational and calls anybody else emotional is both lying and projecting. If nobody felt anything, nobody would do anything: That's what depression is, even high functioning depression.

Going further, communication and implicit attitude learning and how explicit attitudes become implicit attitudes is the human skill.

Its why its inherently nonsensical to try and atomize us from eachother. We are all disturbingly susceptible to propaganda.

It isn't our tool-use (corvids molluscs, diatoms and arachnids have us beat there up until the last 80 to 15,000 years when we did metal properly afaik) -- its not our intelligence or short-term-memory (primates have us beat there, as genius level counters, strategizers and selectors): Its communication and sharing out strategies.

This is what we mean when we call humans "social organisms".

Seperating individuals truly leads to brain damage, which we see in those who undergo extended solitary isolation -- and likewise those who are placed into extended sensory deprivation such as white-room torture.

So, returning to our point:

What actually happens to our self-interested agents?

They refuse to concede that they can be irrational (which they scientifically and verifiably are: we are all irrational most of the time running on habit and memory, not pure decision making).

Result?

Self-interested agents who will not concede always compete -- whether towards singular or group-goals, and as resources collapse the group goals become singular goals.

Why?

Conceding that you are capable of irrationality and understanding what this means and the consequences and trusting that you can feel safe doing this requires emotional insight.

To develop emotional insight, you need to be a skilled communicator or have had excellent social training either through direct social contact or secondary social contact (social and cognitive stimulus creating cognitive simulations, aka media you consume).

The venn diagram of properties producing ultra-competitors is...

Dysthymia (being unable to create enjoyment or satisfaction without external validation, such as scoring, numbers or from another perosn)

An insecure/avoidant attachment style (eg, you depend on the numbers system because forming trust is compromised for whatever reason)

This produces an arms-race of ultra-competitors all trying to maximize whatever society sees as the most valuable (eg, money) -- who quickly figure out that the optimal strategy is to limit the number of competitors they have.

They do this by tricking the other members into playing "other games" or to collect "other things" as a distraction to sate them while improving how well they achieve their own goals.

These are your time vampires like the internet, your endless merchandising of ownership/consumer status, your religions to sate existential status needs, your abusive families playing for membership approval status needs, etc.

Rant End.

Okay, so now what?

So I agree with 95% of what you're saying, and I'm a pedantic bitch basically.

I love betraying nation and bloodline. I love rejecting the social order. I love being able to pursue my own goals even when the world around me wants me to adopt theirs instead. I love blasphemy and queerness and getting to choose who my family is.

I love this.

Everything you want is good, but atomized individualism is not the descriptor for those things because pure atomized individual reinvents the problems it seeks to solve for the individual by externalizing them to maximize its own returns.

Its why libertarians always create government again, but with extra steps where they are the leaders, which is apparently fine for some reason.

"I love atomized individualism" is not a statement you can make in a void, especially given current events.

What you mean is

"I love equitable atomacized indivividualism"

And by adding just one word that clarifies your statement and nullifies so many MANY problems, I 100% agree with you.

Okay got that out of my system.

Phew.

May your self-loving-vampire and may all of your self-loving be glorious and your Kohaku pleantiful.

Take care! :3

I love atomized individualism. I love betraying nation and bloodline. I love rejecting the social order. I love being able to pursue my own goals even when the world around me wants me to adopt theirs instead. I love blasphemy and queerness and getting to choose who my family is.

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 2 – The One About the Likes

As you will soon figure out, I will be bouncing around from topic to topic. It will all be Lukola-related, of course, but the information and speculation I discuss may not be in any particular order. However, I will add in dates of reference to help organize your thoughts.

In my first post, I mentioned our three fan-types. Because this is only my second entry, I will touch on them again.

The Sincerely Ignorant are those that follow blindly. We all know a Sincerely Ignorant. If you’re the type of person who spirals uncontrollably at the hint of bad news, I’m sorry to tell you this, you’re likely a Sincerely Ignorant. But, don’t run! I want to help calm you the fuck down.

The Conscientiously Stupid are the people who push a narrative without considering other evidence being provided to them. We’re all Conscientiously Stupid from time to time, but this category – at least in my blog – is typically reserved for the Jakholes, the A-Holes, the Anti-Lukes, and now apparently the Anti-Nics. That’s not to say Lukolas are not also Conscientiously Stupid. We are human after all.

The Fact Finders are those that collect information and share it. They may speculate on it, but they do not manipulate it. We simply argue our case and provide the evidence in support of our arguments.

Now jumping into what I wanted to discuss today –

The likes.

The motherfucking likes on Instagram.

My disclaimer today: I am only discussing the likes between Nicola and Luke in this post; however, I will use a third party to put things into perspective. This is intentional. The “adjacent” (I hate that word, by the way) likes are a separate post all on their own – but I’ll summarize it for you because, on the surface (speculation aside), it’s quite black and white. Jake likes Nicola’s posts; Nicola likes Jake’s posts; Antonia likes Luke’s posts; Luke likes Antonia’s posts. Let the meltdowns begin.

Done?

Okay. Back to the likes between Nicola and Luke…

It’s the same old song and dance.

Every.

Single.

Time.

Nicola post to her grid.

Jake likes it within a small timeframe.

Luke – maybe he likes it, maybe he doesn’t.

The Conscientiously Stupid attack and the Sincerely Ignorant spiral. And the Fact Finders take a deep breath and prepare themselves to walk the Sincerely Ignorant back on board the USS Lukola. I’m mean, it’s exhausting for everyone.

Do Luke’s likes really matter? No, in most instances, they don’t.

Do Jake’s likes really matter? Same as above! No, in most instances, they don’t.

Let’s take Nicola’s BFF JVN for example. He usually likes Nicola’s posts, right? In fact, some days, he’s just as fast as Jake. And, what about Dylan Brady? Talk about a friend who puts an instant-like on Nicola’s posts! And, another thing – both JVN and Dylan have been known to repost Nicola’s stuff to their own stories. However, no one cares about that or considers any of these “side characters” because they’re not Luke or Jake. I get it. But, let’s consider a few things.

First, JVN has liked most of Nicola’s posts except for the “NY Rats” one [which I will not speculate about right now]. But, let’s use the “NY Rats” post as a reference point. Nicola posted that October 17. Did you know that JVN has posted 14 times on his own grid since then? And, did you know that Nicola has only liked two of those 14? Holy shit, they must despise each other, right? Or, is it more likely that (a) Nicola is busy or (b) so close to JVN she doesn’t feel the need to like every single one of his posts? Now, I want you to answer this question with all honesty: Based on this information, do you have any concerns about Nicola’s relationship with JVN? If you answered yes, why?

Now let’s consider this next part, which is in the same vein as the above. Did you know that Nicola has liked most of Luke’s grid posts? Did you know that out of the last 14 posts made by Nicola to her grid, Luke has only liked eight? That’s barely over half (but, hey, better than Nicola’s average with JVN!). If you go back even further, you’ll find this is Luke’s modus operandi. He doesn’t like every goddamn post Nicola throws up.  Even throughout the World Tour, he wasn’t liking all of Nicola’s posts. Did this bother you then? Is it possible Luke is (a) not that into social media, (b) busy, or (c) so close to Nicola he doesn’t feel the need to like every single one of her posts? Let me ask you the same question I asked above: Based on this information, do you have any concerns about Luke’s relationship with Nicola? If you answered yes, why?

Okay, I’m going to assume some people are bothered by this Luke-Like bit so let’s keep discussing it for a moment.

Did you know that since January 1, 2024, Nicola has made nine IG grid posts that relate to a political viewpoint? Did you know that Luke has only liked one of those nine posts? In fact, I was quite shocked that Luke liked Nicola’s October 15 post of her Time100 speech (if you haven’t watched her speech, it’s on her IG grid). In my opinion, Luke liking this post is far more significant than Luke liking, say, her third grid post about her Time cover. He’s seemingly agreeing with her political stance.

This was a change in modus operandi. A small change, indeed, but interesting.

[arkangelo-7]

Okay, I know it’s more canon-typical for Bruce to have a super-detailed, meticulous manual that outlines all the procedures, rules, and safety protocols that he expects his Birds to follow when they’re out on patrol or on a mission (whether or not the Birdies actually abide by these rules/regulations is a different matter), but I personally think it would be much more hilarious if this manual was actually just like a random ass, sparkly spiral-notebook with a bunch of random advice the Robins have passed down over the years.

No one actually knows where the tradition started, as at least half the pages are torn out or have been exposed to some sort of explosion/alien substance, but the current highlights would include:

Stay strapped or get clapped” — Jason wrote this after he forgot to pack the bat-a-rangs for patrol and Bruce made him do like 100 pushups as punishment.

“Do NOT ask Killer Croc if he’s featured on The Crocidle Hunter or Swamp People.” — by Tim, who almost drowned before Batman pulled him out of the sewer.

“ >:( “ — Cass drew this after she went on a deep-cover solo mission for two months, and will not elaborate any further on what it means or what about the mission was so crappy.

“You’re my dad, boogie-woogie-oogie!” — Scribbled in a margin by Dick when he was high as a kite on some weird drug that Scarecrow manufactured. It’s not really advice but everyone thinks it’s fucking hilarious.

“Ask Ivy for Weed” — is from Tim, but no one knows whether he accidentally wrote that down as a reminder about a case, or if he’s actually suggesting that they hit up Ivy for a good time.

“Cuddles are essential to the Mission!” — No one knows if Dick wrote this when he was Robin and trying to get Bruce to spend some quality time with him, or if Dick wrote this when he was Batman and trying to get Damian to hug him. Either way, the general consensus is that Dick wrote it.

“Eat the Rich” — an addition by Stephanie, and despite the fact that the Birds all are, by extension of Bruce, uber wealthy, there is a general consensus that it remains.

“Please refrain from the use of the monogrammed towels during post-alien-invasion clean ups” — is one of only two notes from Alfred, who dropped like 2 grand at the dry cleaners after the Birds ruined all his fancy towels when wiping alien goop off their uniforms.

“The first person to say ‘yeet’ next time I throw a projectile will be on case work duty for a week” — this is the only thing Bruce has ever written in the notebook, and the only reason it hasn’t gotten torn out yet is because yelling “yeet” also annoys Selina, and no one is allowed to annoy Selina.

And, lastly, while this isn’t necessarily a piece of advice, I think the way page in the notebook an exceedingly detailed drawing of Bruce, with an arrow pointing at him reading “boring old bat.”

(Damian drew it. It’s his only entry. The Birdies cackle every time they look at it.)

[motorsportbarbie13]

What's A Soulmate? Part 6

In which things are made official (finally)

Warnings: little angst, social media posts Pairing: Lando Norris x SainzSister!reader Word Count: 1.4k words

- What's A Soulmate? - Part 1 - What's A Soulmate? - Part 2 - What's A Soulmate? - Part 2.5 - What's a Soulmate? - Part 3 - What's a Soulmate? - Part 4 - What's a Soulmate? - Part 5 - Master List

Monaco May 2024

Sunlight streams in through the partially parted curtains of Lando’s bedroom the next morning. Your entire body is warm, wrapped up in the thick duvet that covers his king sized bed. The soft cotton of the t-shirt Lando gave you last night brushes against your skin, not unlike the way he touched you last night. 

He had just popped out to the cafe that was down the block from his apartment to get you breakfast, as he had absolutely nothing other than a few sweet potatoes in his fridge, one of which smelled suspiciously of vodka. The moment alone allowed you to fully soak in the sore feeling that radiated up from between your legs to the rest of your body. The delicious languid stretch that you felt when you moved even just the slightest bit reminded you of how Lando had played your body so well last night, like he’d been worshipping you for his entire life. 

You lazily reach for your phone just as you hear the front door click open.

 “I’m back.” Lando calls out and you grin, enjoying the way your heart flutters at the sound of his voice, still a little gritty from sleep. 

Instagram is your first choice, watching the private stories of your friends from last night, recapping what you had missed after you and Lando ditched the party. And then you come across a suggested post on your feed and your entire world stops for a moment. 

“Uh…Lan?” Panic dances at the edge of your voice as stare at the photo.

“What’s wrong?” As he rounds the corner, you see he’s holding two to go coffee cups from the cafe that’s down the street from his condo, a look of concern furrowing his brow when he sees the panicked look on your face. 

You flip your phone around to show him the post you’d been sent by a friend in London this morning. It’s a post from an F1 gossip account and it’s a picture from Lando taking you home last night, the two of you very obviously together as more than friends. Embarrassment flames at your cheeks as Lando crosses the room to take a look.

F1GossipNews: Fans in town for the Monaco Grand Prix this weekend caught some interesting shenanigans on the streets of Monte Carlo last night. McLaren driver Lando Norris was spotted outside the Hermitage Hotel last night with none other than Carlos Sainz's little sister and from the several reports we've recieved, they were looking VERY cozy together with Lando even carrying the Spanish McLaren employee at one point. As we all know, these two have been friends for years but have never outright confirmed that they were anything other than just that. We have to wonder what it'll take for these two to go public now??? user928 anyone who follows F1 knows that these two have been in love with each other for YEARS. Thank God they're finally realizing it themselves. user9827 i'll always feel bad for that one girl he dated a few years ago. it feels like there was always 3 people in that relationship. i guess she was right to be jealous >>>user8272 i always heard she was the cause of their breakup. confirmed ig. >>>user0388 oh come on, they've been broken up for TWO YEARS. get a life. touch some grass. user023828 MOM AND DAD MADE IT OFFICIAL. MY LIFE IS COMPLETE.

You hadn’t had a chance to talk about what last night had meant yet and your heart hammered in your chest at the possible rejection. It was still possible that he changed his mind, wasn’t it? That this morning while he had gone out to get breakfast, the space had given him a chance to have second thoughts. You knew that Lando was intensely private about his personal life, hating the way gossip accounts and fans sunk their teeth into any bit of gossip they could get their hands around. 

Fans had tried to link the two of you early on when you were friends and Lando always got so angry when that particular rumor would start swirling again. How was he going to react now that this photo, where you both had been identified by name. Sure, you had shared that one photo of his hand low on your back last night but you couldn’t see his face. This was different. There was a video too, attached to the gossip post and you could clearly hear his thick British accent and your unmistakable laugh floating through the background of the video. 

Lando sits down at the foot of the bed with your phone in his had. A smirk plays on his face as he watches the video for the third time, hand reaching out to stroke your toes that now sit in his lap. When he looks up though, his smile fades and matches your anxious one. 

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, tears threaten to spill. 

Lando is fully confused by your reaction. “What do you have to be sorry about?” 

“They caught us. I know how private you are, how you don’t want to be linked to anyone unless it’s serious. I should have been more careful, Brenda is going to fucking kill me if you don’t. Oh God, Lan. I’m so sorry.” You ramble, twisting the sheets beneath you out of sheer anxiety.  

You remember the rant he went off on before he had started officially dating the girl that ended up ripping you two apart. It had somehow been leaked to the press that they were together and Lando had felt pressured to make it official with her after that. What you didn’t know was that it hadn’t been the press that had made him feel pressured, it had been the girl. She had pushed and pushed, saying that it would ruin her reputation if nothing came of the gossip posts and he had just gone along with it. 

“Hey, there’s no need to panic. Come here.” Lando reaches out to gather you up in his arms, smiling at the fact that you’re still wearing the t-shirt he had given you last night before you two fell asleep. “Why are you freaking out? It’s fine if the press publishes this stuff.” 

“I just…” You struggle to comprehend what he’s saying to you. He’s not mad? “I just know how much you hate the press in your private life. How angry you got when they found out about…her. We hadn’t talked about what this means and I just didn’t want you to feel forced or anything.” 

Lando pulls you further into his lap, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. God, this was his favorite place now, with how soft the skin at your neck is and always smelling like your perfume no matter the time of day. He was so glad he got to fully indulge in it now and didn’t have to hide how deep his feelings for you were. 

“I do hate the press in my private life, you’re right but I also very much want to shout from the rooftops that I finally get to kiss the love of my life whenever I want. I’m sorry if I didn’t make it clear to you last night, but you’re it for me pretty girl.” He leans in then, brushing your temple with his lips before dragging them down the line of your jaw, fingers gripping at your hips to pull you even closer. “It’s always been you, pretty girl. Always. Be mine forever?”

“You don’t even have to ask, Lan. I’ve been yours for a long time now.”   

If your heart could have exploded in your chest, you wouldn’t have been surprised. You hadn’t really known, hadn’t really realized how much you’d needed to hear Lando say those words until now. You’d spent the better part of five years shoving your feelings for him down so deep in a desperate attempt to accept the fact that maybe all you two would ever be was friends. It was dizzying knowing that that wasn’t going to be the case now and you struggled to wrap your head around it. 

“I can’t go around telling you how much I love and adore you in private and hide those feelings in public. I don’t want to.” To emphasize his point, he grabs his phone out of his back pocket and swipes to open Instagram. You watch with mild amusement as he scrolls through some of the photos he took last night before he lands on one where he’s got you slung over his shoulder, not unlike the gossip post, but this one is in his hallway after he took you home. He types out a caption before handing it over to you for your approval. 

Laughter spills out of your lips as you read it before you look up at him. “This is quite bold, are you sure you want to be this…open?” 

Lando nods, a smirk playing on his lips. “I’m about to be so obnoxious about the fact I finally landed you. How else is everyone in the paddock going to know you’re spoken for now? Max fucking Verstappen better stop texting you now or else I’m going to run him into the bloody wall on Sunday.” 

“Lando Norris!” You scold, swatting him on the shoulder while you both dissolve in giggles. 

“Go on, I know you want to post something too. Although I suspect that story you posted last night of me and you in the elevator was what sparked people to look for other clues. They’ve been trying to ship us for years.” 

You blush under the accusation but you know it’s all in good fun. Fear and anxiety gone from your body you reach for your phone again to make your own post. Lando gives his nod of approval and you both post the photos simultaneously and then grinning, you leave your phones in the bedroom as you enjoy the rest of your morning before you have to be on track later for media day. 

You two didn’t earn the nickname Chaos Gremlins for nothing.  

LandoNorris Confirmed. (tagged: LittlestSainzSis, F1GossipNews) CarlosSainz you'd better take care of her or else you'll end up in a gravel pit. LittlestSainzSis love you darling >>>(liked by landonorris) McLaren IT'S ABOUT TIME >>>user928 even admin knew these two idiots were in love before they did. user0292 oh my GOD he tagged the gossip account. HAHAH >>>user92828 he is down BAD for our girl user0332 if you look closely in the background, you can see me laying down in the middle of the highway. >>>user928 srsly. this post called me single in seven different languages. user02828 god they're so hot together

LittlestSainzSis cat's out of the bag, ig ;) (tagged: LandoNorris) user0292 god they're perfect LandoNorris love you, pretty girl >>>(liked by littlestsainzsis) McLaren our favorite papaya couple finally official!! >>>user0383 admin's been rooting for this ship just as much as the rest of us. user029921 legit the hottest looking couple on the grid, fight me.

the end.

IDK why half of the tag list isn't working but if for some reason you're not being tagged (it says you are when I'm editing the post but it doesn't show up live when I publish it) make sure your settings are fixed on your end or maybe it's just bc i'm a new blog and i can't tag this many? idk but i'll keep trying to fix it!! you can also turn on post notifs for me if you want!)

Tag List: @anilovessadbooks, @shelbyteller, @formulaal, @martygraciesversion381, @longhairkoo, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @chlmtfilms , @inarabee @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @sltwins @linnygirl09 @powerfulmess @technicallypleasanttree @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @strawberryy-kiwii @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @unknownmystery22 @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream

[alessabriel]

And it didn't.

Summary: with the scars left by civil conflict, of broken relationships and shattered bridges the years passed, and she was finally caught up with the consequences of what she did.

Cw: NO CAITVI, angst for Caitlyn, post arcane 2 and my soft imaginings, Vi x Reader.

✄ — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Caitlyn had lost herself and neither time, nor regret could bring back the people she lost what was important to; I saw the one she pushed away so many times because of that stupid instinct to see her down for being from Zaun who contaminated and infected her, Jayce who even though I told her everything was resolved I still saw that resentment in her eyes and did not blame, her father still loved her and was there for her but in his eyes at times there was a disappointment so palpable that it hurt to see her because she had destroyed what her mother worked so hard for costing lives in Zaun. She knew that her owner and suffering was not justification, it would never be, just as she knew that she had made many decisions that were wrong and even today, at 35 years old, they still haunt her, stalking her in every free moment to think, in every corner of her psyche and heart, it is a curse that would never leave her and she accepted it, she let the remorse bite her skin, scratch her bones fragmenting them until it reached the organs underneath and stay there forever. Not that all Zaunites' looks at her were better or let her forget what she had done in the past, they all looked at her with a well-hidden and civilized rancor, which, in contrast to what happened years ago showed that Zaunites were not animals.

"It's in your blood, it will always be in your blood!"

These are words that still to this day follow her relentlessly, spoken to a woman who stood by her side unflinchingly, daring to wear the uniform of the very beings who murdered her parents, who oppressed her for years and who were part of Zaun's continuing misfortune. Vi wore the uniform and became an enforcer for her, and a with it at that moment, after a shared kiss hurt her and it was not the blow that hurt the most, but hearing Vi cry at the bottom of the well and left her without looking back, at that moment she never regretted it and thought she deserved it for not letting Vi go, she herself pushed her away. Now, as Sheriff with Piltover restored and Zaun in better condition after joining forces to drive away Noxus and his threat, she is surprisingly alone. She had managed to catch Jinx and served her sentence, helped restore Piltover as part of that sentence but even with everything Jinx was never left alone but was supported by all of Zaun and, to her own selfish pain; For Vi, Vi was in the process of Jinx's improvement and her mental treatment, when she was imprisoned and released by herself, she watched as Vi received her and although there was an uncomfortable air Vi saw her with a filial love and bright, shy accompanied by Ekko, Sevika, Isha and another person who did not hesitate to embrace Jinx. Even Jinx even with all the crimes on her list, she had so many people surrounding her and she on the other end just and Sheriff was alone, she knew it was her own fault.

There was a sea of guilt that was always at her feet, threatening on her worst days with a huge swell, monstrous waves that threatened to swallow her whole and sometimes she wished they would but, it would be selfish not to bear the consequences of her actions.

The council had been renewed for the sake of progress since they all had such archaic and cruel ideas by the next leaders of those same houses who were young, people who saw beyond prejudices and painted a difference, a before and an after. A renewed council, like Piltover, with Jayce and Mel at the head, but there were two representatives of Zaun who never showed up leaving two chairs together empty in their name. They had all changed, Piltover finally after seeing how hundreds of Zaunites risked themselves to drive Noxus away without caring about coming back alive showed them how much damage they inflicted on their twin city.

Damage she contributed to, added to, and how it tainted her mother's contribution so that the Zaunites could breathe.

She hated herself but dared not ask for forgiveness, because she did not deserve it and she knew it.

She lives each day mechanically in the Enforcers base office, and with documentation up to her neck, in a cold and monotonous rhythm until that day came, a day where Loris was coming to visit her as she had not agreed to stay in the Enforcers corps with the others but rather, was sentinel in Zaun an organization created by two people in Zaun along with other creations that Zaun did not have before.

"Wow, you're still dating the paperwork Sheriff?" questions Loris, walking into the office with a lazy smile looking at the paperwork by the pile.

"Let's just say they're nice dates" replies Caitlyn, inviting him to sit down, it's the little visits and sincere interactions he has that let him see that he kept too good people away from his surroundings because even Seb kept her at a distance, Maddie walked away from her after he had used her to forget Vi; spoiler he never could, Vi as soon as the conflict ended and the trials came she didn't return to Piltover, so Loris was the only one who still maintained some pleasant air between the two "Something going on? You usually come over on Fridays when I go out for a drink together."

Caitlyn looks at her former partner and notices it, a nervous uneasiness almost shy about how she keeps herself hidden and how Loris tries to keep the air light, jovial and pleasant. Loris was a very short time active part of the Enforcerd but damn but he was a good element and the Sentinels would take a good element. She watches silently as her former partner takes a seat, but it never goes unnoticed the conflicted eyes of the man in front of her and she honestly can't blame him as Loris is one of Vi's best friends and continuing to talk to her feels like some sort of betrayal, or so Caitlyn assumes.

"Well, I'm not wasting your time with my humble visit Sheriff" she concedes, lightening the mood and tension, pulling out a simple envelope sealed with wax and a unique flower that only grows in Zaun "Consider coming, she asked me to deliver it to you."

Caitlyn with that, spends the rest of the day dreading opening the letter leaving it on her office bookshelf as if it has the toxic and poisonous in it, so at the end of her day with the evening light streaming in through the glass she plucks up her courage. She sits up from her chair and takes the letter, it is made of a soft and in plain sight recycled paper but it has a fresh floral scent, with some fear creeping up her joints she opens it using the letter opener seeing how the black wax falls on her desk next to the small single flower of Zaun that she takes and keeps it, inside the envelope is a paper folded in three and when she opens it something stirs in her gut with such force that she feels her organs pushed into her bones and the physical exterior of her body, she restrains herself and swallows the bile to start reading, though she knows that doomed her because she suspects it is.

† Violet and [R] †

Just reading that line generated an immense, monumental dismay in him, had he stopped loving Vi? She didn't want to know the answer because it would hurt, because when she pushed Vi away, making her feel guilty for everything, guilty for not being able to stop loving her sister in spite of everything, what was she thinking back then? Making her choose implicitly only served to further establish the imbalance and mistrust in whatever it was they had, and lo and behold the consequences years of loneliness and minimal, if any interactions with Vi that were for matters merely concerning both cities. At the very thought, the very image of it tightens her chest.

Vi was getting married and he was inviting her to his wedding, with a +1.

She dropped into her chair, tossing the pretty invitation on the desk before scrunching up her face, stressed, hurt, regretful and with an amalgam of feelings of self-pity and cruelty towards herself for the past, for the hatred her being since she was a child had harbored towards Zaunitas which only incubated until it exploded that fateful day where she took it out on Vi, took it out on a woman who knew how to read her better than she did herself and prevented her from doing something she would regret more. He knew he could not give, if he would fail as Vi said but his pain did not allow him to see, understand, or comprehend. His hands tremble running it over his face in an attempt to get rid of that mutilating feeling in his chest, and he feels the pain climb up his bones, Vi was going to marry someone and by name it's a woman; [R]. A short, concrete text, a wedding which will be held in the newly opened temple of Janna, signed below in sweet, flowing calligraphy in Violet's name, next to another straighter, linear calligraphy signing with [R]. They sure did that cute thing of writing each other's name would Vi love her? Would that unknown woman love Vi? How long had they been in a relationship? Did they love each other? Why was Vi inviting her?

She doesn't want to go.

[olderthannetfic]

Im neither a proshipper nor an anti at this current stage in life, but at one point i was an anti i guess? And I hate it say it, but looking back, I understand why. I don't think I actually gave a fuck about Harmful Fanfic or whatever, it was just a substitute for therapy that i couldn't get at the time (because "literally neurodivergent and a minor" or whatever, but like...actually literally neurodivergent and a minor LOL).

As weird as it sounds like, no one cared about my ACTUAL PAIN, and that made me feel EVEN MORE PAIN, so i took it out on ppl who shipped "abuse", or whatever.

It's so stupid now, as an adult who is mentally better than I was then, but as ridiculous as it was, seeing someone ship an "abusive" ship or a "queer erasing ship" (like a canonically gay character with someone of the other binary gender)...it felt eerily similar to the actual abuse I was facing and the stress that everyone was putting on me to find a boyfriend or ask why my (closeted lesbian) self didn't like any boys.

But it was so much easier to keyboard warrior about how people who ship Bad things are Bad people, than it was to fix any problems in my actual life because...well, the actual problems in my life COULDN'T be fixed. That isn't a learned helplessness thing, there was genuinely nothing I could've done. So pissing off Shippers was, like, a vessel for that, and it *felt* like I was getting to lash out at the same people who were ACTUALLY hurting me, even though that obviously is not the case. Funny thing is, it wasn't actual fandom discourse that made me switch sides, it was getting to learn more about youth liberation movements and stuff, because it was then that I recognized the actual structures that were making me hurt.

I think one silver lining is it's made me more compassionate an adult. While I don't have any defense for the antis who do actual horrendous stuff like doxxing or sending death/rape threats, etc, I do have a lot of defense for the ones who were like me and would just make posts talking about how Wrong it is to ship certain things. I know that not all antis are in the same place that I was once was, and some are just genuinely immature brats, but it's like. . . I get it, you know?

The cycle of abuse/bullying is weird and it's not often a 1:1 "I had an abusive parent so now i'll be an abusive parent", sometimes it's the chronically online stuff like I did. It's also why I'm careful-careful to not engage and to just block or, even try to have a mature discussion if I can, and if the person I'm talking to is just "a little bit annoying" rather than "actual bully doing/sending illegal stuff". A lot of them just want to be heard, I think, and it really makes me sad that this is the way they choose to be heard...but also i get it, because i was that.

--

Yup. We often discuss anti tendencies in this framework.

People want control over their environment when they have none. They want the world to make sense and for there to be simple rules they can follow to Never Mess Up. This is a very common reaction to trauma and also typical of brains that like order and neat boxes and a world full of justice and logic.

The trouble is that a critical mass of "I'm just pointing this out" type posts does tend to make all the other teens with an issue around moral scrupulosity implode. (And let's be real, plenty of the antis themselves are secretly into dark content and are trying to pray the gay kink away.)

I have some sympathy, but I'm still going to tell people they're sealioning when they are and tell them they're flat out wrong about how fantasies work, not sugar coat it because they're probably a delicate teen. There's no need to be excessively mean or treat people as irredeemable, but I also don't like how we talk endlessly about compassion for teen antis and not for teens targeted by antis. It's similar to how there are all those complaints like "Hey, I work hard to manage my mental illness, but all the support seems to go to people who are letting their issues rampage..."

[knottedhearts]

Q&A: C.S

The soft hum of the camera turning on filled the quiet room as you and Chris sat side by side on his couch, the glow of the ring light casting a warm, flattering light over both of you. It had been ages since he posted anything on his personal YouTube channel, and today was the day he finally decided to pick it back up. The two of you had agreed to film a Q&A session, answering questions from his fans who had been eagerly awaiting his return to the platform.

Chris was fiddling with his phone, scrolling through the questions his followers had sent in. He looked over at you with a grin, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Alright," he said, turning to the camera and giving a thumbs up. "It’s been a while, but let’s kick this off. First question…"

He glanced down at his phone, brows furrowing slightly as he read. "Okay, this one’s… interesting." He paused for effect, clearly teasing you, before reading aloud. "'Have you guys had sex?'"

You froze for a second, then burst out laughing, your face going bright red. "Oh my god," you groaned, shaking your head. "Seriously?"

Chris leaned back, his smirk turning into a full-blown grin. "I mean, we are answering questions, right?" He gave a playful shrug, looking at you with that signature, mischievous glint in his eyes. "Not that it's anyone’s business, but we’re here to have fun, right?"

You covered your face with your hands, still laughing. "This is what I get for agreeing to this. I swear your followers are crazy."

Chris’s laughter joined yours, and it was hard to tell whether the question was funny or just absurd. But the chemistry between the two of you made it all feel lighthearted, and it was easy to fall into the rhythm of answering questions while sharing inside jokes.

You took a deep breath, wiping tears of laughter from your eyes. "Alright, alright. Next question before we get any more weird ones." You reached for your phone and skimmed through the list of submitted questions. "Let’s see… Here’s a cute one. 'What’s your favorite thing about each other?'"

Chris looked over at you, his smile softening. "Honestly? It's how we can just hang out and not even have to do anything and still have a great time. Like, we’re always on the same wavelength." He chuckled. "And how you always make me laugh. You’re like the funniest person I know."

Your heart gave a little skip, the warmth in his voice making you smile. You shrugged casually, acting nonchalant, but you could feel the fondness in his words. "Well, you’re pretty funny yourself. I guess it’s why we get along so well. But I’ll admit, you do have that charm that makes everything feel more fun."

He nudged you playfully with his elbow, then turned back to the camera. "Next one, I think we can all guess this one… 'Do you two ever fight?'"

You snorted, laughing at how predictable that question was. "Oh, definitely. We’re not perfect. We argue, we bicker, but it’s nothing too serious." You glanced at Chris and made a face. "Mostly about silly stuff, like when he steals the last slice of pizza."

Chris raised an eyebrow, smirking. "It was one slice. And you didn’t call dibs."

You pointed at him, laughing again. "You always steal it and then act like it’s no big deal!"

Chris winked, turning to the camera. "Hey, you snooze, you lose."

You shook your head, rolling your eyes dramatically. "You’re impossible."

As the conversation flowed, you and Chris went through a handful of questions, answering with a mix of humor, honesty, and a little bit of teasing. The questions ranged from the goofy to the sentimental, but no matter what was asked, it was easy to feel at ease with Chris by your side.

Eventually, Chris read the next question with a slight hesitation, his grin widening as he glanced over at you. "Okay… another weird one," he said, drawing it out for dramatic effect. "You ready?"

You squinted at him, already dreading what might come next. "Just read it, Chris."

He cleared his throat, pretending to be serious, and read, "'Do you ever have matching outfits?'"

You stared at him in disbelief for a moment before bursting out laughing. "That’s it? That’s the weird question you were hyping up?"

Chris grinned widely. "You’re telling me you didn’t think about this one? I thought you two would rock a couple’s costume for Halloween or something."

You couldn’t help but laugh at the thought. "You know, that wouldn’t be the worst idea, actually."

Chris rolled his eyes but was clearly entertained by your suggestion. "Alright, let’s get back to the real questions, shall we?"

The next few questions were just as random, but you couldn’t stop laughing—"Do you think you’re both cute?" "Do you ever argue over the TV remote?" and, of course, the classic "Who is the better cook?" (You both agreed it was Chris, but you liked to pretend it was a tie to make him laugh.)

As you both read through the questions, the time seemed to slip away, the easy back-and-forth between you and Chris making the whole process feel like fun instead of work. Every time you’d tease him or crack a joke, you’d catch him looking at you with that smile, and it was impossible not to feel like the luckiest person in the world.

Eventually, you wrapped up the video, both of you laughing at the absurdity of some of the questions. As the camera shut off, Chris turned to you with a grin. "Well, that wasn’t so bad, right?"

You grinned back, leaning over and bumping him playfully with your shoulder. "Yeah, it was pretty fun. Even if your followers are a little… intense."

Chris chuckled, throwing his arm around your shoulder casually as he stood up. "You love it. You know you do."

You shook your head, still laughing as you followed him toward the kitchen. "You’re ridiculous," you muttered, but you couldn’t stop smiling. It was moments like this—simple, goofy, and filled with easy camaraderie—that made everything feel perfect.

[journeysfable]

Making this it's own post cause I think I already made an ask about Gem's lore in Martyn's inbox and don't want to bother him about it anymore

Anyway I think Gem is more powerful than the watchers

hear me out

(this is both me presenting an idea for the Eyes and Ears lore and also me begging people to pay more attention to Gem's lore pls am lonely over in the loving Gem's lore corner) (And this also accidentally turned in A Character Gem character study of sorts I think. Oops)

During the Empire's crossover, Scar, in at least Joel's pov, said "did anyone else think this was a new life series?" cc!Scar had no reason to ask such a question meaning he was in character and his character, who just came from the Hermitcraft world and was now in the Empires world, wondered if he was in a life series game, which puts all three servers in the same universe imo. For at least Scar.

In the crossover Gem revealed her HC and Esmp characters were one and the same and that her character is a being that can casually move between worlds by sleeping, an ability no one else had. And because she can just hop between worlds and slip into whatever role fits best for that world and she doesn't realize that not everyone is just playing like she is.

A person is merely a costume to c!Gem.

And again, this is 100% canon

From "I have a SECRET?! Empires x Hermitcraft" "I have a secret. You see, when you join a Minecraft world you can be anyone that you want to be. Sometimes I'm a princess, but sometimes I change. And then I'm an elf. And in some worlds, I'm just me. And you see, where I'm from. That's kind of normal."

And then the following line has something interesting in it.

"One day I was just walking casually in the Empires world, playing DnD as I always do as a princess with my friends."

The Empires world is a game of DnD to c!Gem. That's haha silly meta but if you've watched the other esmp povs you know not everyone's character is role playing.

Like yea the content creators are role playing but Sausage's character is not roleplayong. But Gem's character is.

For example: In Empire's Shubbble plays Shelby the witch. Geminitay plays Geminitay the world hopping larper. Shelby the witch isn't larping, though.

But Geminitay The World Hopping Larper is seemingly not aware of this.

Further evidence that c!Gem is so powerful and used to playing a character she doesn't realize that Real People exist comes in "Exanding my Medieval Kingdom! Empires x Hermitcraft"

After patiently explaining to Sausage that she can move between worlds and that she's role playinng, Gem is greatly confused by the fact that Sausage (who through the whole season has been hopping across time and space by accident) can't control his abilities.

And at first it's seemed like Gem was aware that Sauasage wasn't roleplaying as she explained her world hopping and role playing to him. But then his freak out causes Gem to make this comment that I can't tell if it came from cc!Gem poking fun at cc!Sausage or c!Gem realizing that c!Sausage isn't roleplaying "He's not role playing is he? That's genuine. He's actually crazy"

There are a lot of implications that come with the fact that Gem doesn't even realize that the other Empires members aren't roleplaying. What else does she not realize because she can move between the worlds and be whovever she wants on a whim?

In "Empires 2: Building my BEST Medieval Minecraft Village!" Gem says she's a celestial being.

What does that mean? Well, the word celestial means related to the sky or heaven and is synonomous with heavenly, planetary, stellar, and godlike.

It may allude to the fact her name is Geminitay, a constellation(stellar). But it also sort of implies she's a fucking god or at least similar to one.

So what does all this have to do with Eyes and Ears lore?

I think c!Gem is so powerful it makes her dangerously naive. Not to herself but to others. Because she's possibly so powerful she potentially doesn't realize that danger exists.

And perhaps she's so powerful that the watchers can't feed on her emotions. Or at least not all of them.

Or maybe they're too scared to. Afraid of what she could to do them if they angered her in any way.

[holybasementdweller]

wanted to add my two cents because shipping discourse is just all over recently. Forgive me rambling a bit here. I have a lot of thoughts on this topic and would like to get them out there in some form.

Stop harassing CC's about their boundaries.

Would you go up to a random person whom you've never met before in your life, who has never met you either, and likely has no idea who you are, purely to ask them if you can draw/write/ship them with one of their co-workers?

No! It's a wildly uncomfortable question to a lot of people, it puts them on the spot, and some CC's may not care as long as they never see it. Now that the concept has been shoved in their face, they're forced to view the idea.

I feel like a large part of the issue is the divide between younger, newer fandom members and older, traditional ones. Primarily the concept that fan content is not intended for CCs, but for fans specifically. Most 'traditional' and older fandom participants follow this view because that's what fandom is. You get to make cool things, and ramble about different head cannons and ideas with your friends and maybe find other fans who become your friends along the way. Maybe you want to throw these characters you really like into this elaborate superhero AU, or draw them in costume, or explore relationship dynamics because it's fun and you get to ramble with fellow fans. It's called a fandom for a reason!

I'd like to clarify here that this post is not meant to target anyone in particular; it's going off a general trend I've noticed.

There's been an influx of people who create fan works or fanart that seems to be aimed more to gain clout or to be noticed by CCs. It's something they wanted to make, but is leaving the realm of "by fans, for fans," in a sense that it seems to have lost more of that "for fans." The work is then shoved at the CC more aggressively than if it was just for friends.

There's a reason that spaces like AO3 and Tumblr exist with such large fan communities- because the communities are meant for fans. It's all well and good when CC's decide to take a peek or participate in said fan spaces of their own volition. They're the ones making the choice to engage. It's NOT all well and good when someone, as a fan, is trying to make that choice FOR them by shoving fanworks at the CC begging for clarification on what is okay with them. You're not going to help anyone in that way. Fan spaces exist separately from the CC spaces for a reason. The CC is a person behind the screen who you don't know. The character or role they play in the series you watch? You might know just about everything there is to know about them!

If a CC has laid out a boundary that they aren't comfortable with X Y Z, then there's a really, really simple solution here. Don't show it to them.

Don't put it in main tags, don't tag them in the post, hell, block the CC so you know they won't be able to view something that makes them uncomfortable.

There's a lot of what comes across as almost puritanical virtue signaling I've seen lately, where people are talking about CC boundaries everywhere and trying to police fanwork. I will again refer you to the point above. The fanwork is not made for the CC. It is made for fans, and if it is something the CC isn't comfortable with, then don't go posting it where they might regularly look at things (such as main fanart/fanwork tags.)

Yes, there are CCs who are over here. Yes, they look through fan works. This app is primarily a fan-oriented space and it has tags that CC's (or anyone else!!) can block to avoid things they are uncomfortable with. Though at this point the few that are over here either were already gay dot com natives or have basically become one.

I may have gone a bit off my original topic but TL;DR:

KEEP FAN WORKS TO FAN SPACES, AND STOP HARASSING THE CC'S PLEASE. LET THEM EXIST IN PEACE.

[myceliacrochet]

Reblog if answer tysm!!

Buckle up people this one hurts.

Our society is pretty scared of people who are in great pain, even offended with them.

The feeling I get when speaking with Hala and reading her posts is, here is a person who has been undergoing psychological torture for 400+ days without relief.

True of all Palestinians in Gaza -- just the overwhelming impression I get with Hala.

And Hala Farid Suleiman al-Najjer is not someone who complains over small things. She maintains a trust in justice and goodness, in patient longsuffering and God's plan.

She is incredibly resilient

She is steadfast

She is screaming

She is screaming into the void

She is screaming at an unlistening world that has made and broken promises to her, a world that watches with glee as she and her people are tortured and killed.

I've said before that speaking with Hala can be disturbing. I'm scared of what I'm seeing happen to her.

Of course, we ought to speak in the active voice -- what Israel and the U.S. are doing to her right now, on purpose.

If your tax dollars have ever gone to the IDF, or if you are a person of privilege in some way (recognizing that that is not a criticism of you), here is a beautiful chance to pay some reparations and relieve some suffering.

A coward hides from the people who are suffering the most in the world, reprimands them, reviles them to mitigate his own cognitive dissonance.

A person of honor and courage loves.

Hala mentions in her GoFundMe that they pray that an angel will rescue them.

I believe in human angels -- a vast village of people working together to help.

You know, we mostly see on here the tip of the iceberg -- the Palestinians who have somehow been able to get vetted, show the exact right pictures, say the right things, learn how to use Tumblr.

It's my impression that Hala does not have the strength to do more than she is doing (which is a lot more than I would be able to do in her place).

Hala and her family much, much prefer that donations be sent through PayPal. They arrive faster, and this family needs swift relief.

Due to this, it is hard to track her donations, especially because it pains her to talk about any of this so I try not to pry. But it sounds like they have rarely ever gotten donations.

However, they also have a GoFundMe if the donation protection is important to you.

Vetting: Clean RIS, donation-protected GFM. I apologize that there is no vetting information for her and a couple of the Palestinians in my life. Use your own judgement. If it's a con, it's a weird one that doesn't follow the patterns I'm familiar with. Actually, it doesn't even follow the patterns of the kind of legitimate campaigns that are essentially manipulative (an understandable tactic when your family is dying). It's just screaming in despair and a wretched hope beyond hope.

Anyway, if you want to volunteer to help her apply for vetting, be put in contact with her, or offer verification info, please dm me.

@commissions4aid-international @wellwaterhysteria @mangocheesecakes @kyra45-helping-others @7bittersweet @321butz @monika-396 @erameteors @tortiefrancis @ot3 @amygdalae @ankle-beez @dykesbat @aristotels @komsomolka @prisonhannibal @rosawo7 @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @heritageposts @watermotif @stuckinapril @mavigator @lacecap @determinate-negation @deepspaceboytoy @paper-mario-wiki @kibumkim @socalgal @chilewithcarnage @ghelgheli @sayruq @rooh-afza @knownoshamc @the-awkward-reblobber @soft-sunbird @cockworkangels @dannyketch @cramenjoyer @oreobunny2 @fireyfobbitmedicine @muminshoom @thedigitalbard @timogsilangan @tboynut @wildfeather5002 @fancy-feast-official @honeytonedhottie @cheloneuniverse @roseillith @thelastharbinger

[forwards-beckon-rebound]

random jason todd hcs bc i said so!! pt 1??

ft. red hood, arkham knight, and robin jason

ak!jason is the type of guy who would workout in silence

would probably get tattoos if he could sit in one place for long enough. i don’t mean in a hyperactive way, more like a feeling like he can’t move does not sit well with homeboy

on that note probably hates sedatives or not being able to move freely aka bro will refuse surgery even on his death bed

like who gaf if he needs to get his tonsils removed yknow

ak!jason knows how to speak spanish because i cannot imagine him trying to start a militia without even being able to communicate with them

also bruce seems like the type of guy to force his kids to learn a lot of languages just in case it comes up

don't actually know if rh!jason would listen to mitski but if you made him read the lyrics he's going to be very quiet after that

would want to go to college or at least online classes at community college (remember this is the same guy who liked school, would probably be mad he never got to graduate high school what with the whole being dead thing)

also sorry something in my heart breaks at the idea of him being so proud of being the first person in his family to go to college

unfortunately i refuse to believe that rh!jason can’t cook

he hung out with alfred a lot, probably picked up a thing or two

also i think even if he didn’t know how to cook before dying, when he comes back he’ll pick it up eventually

not because he has a lot of free time as a crime lord, but because nobody else in the batfam can cook so he’d pick it up out of spite

also probably does not have social media, don’t think he would’ve had a phone growing up, was too busy being robin and i don’t think bruce would have exactly explained how instagram works to him

and then once he comes back, he’s busy, probably doesn’t even know what to post or who he personally knows who would follow him

maybe would get social media once he reconciles with the batfam and then opens it every once in a while to see what everybody’s up to

i feel like he would like reddit though. not in like the reddit mod type of way but like he just likes the drama on r/amitheasshole and r/relationshipadvice

imagine jason posting “aita for attempting to blow up my dad’s car for not avenging my death”

robin!jason is the type of kid who does not respect his elders at all and will bully them

but it hurts the most because you know he’s telling the truth and sometimes he’s not even trying to be mean

“why do you have no hair? are you balding?”

“wow you eat so much. no wonder you’re fat.”

also probably asks if you have games on your phone and will judge you

but also sweet and offer to help you do chores

i would charge $20 to babysit him because he’d be cute but also i would have therapy bills to pay

but at least he’s not picky with food and we can talk about books or something

[monstersdownthepath]

A Collection of Fiendish Demigods

(pic source)

A Duke of Hell and two Daemon Harbingers for fun. As always, there's more lore than what I put in their little blurbs; the Duke of Hell especially is one I came up with years ago but never had the opportunity to put into any practice. I actually considered it for the position of Demon Lord for the longest time, but its focus on back-breaking labor and law--plus my dearth of Lawful Evil fiends in general--made me reconsider.

The Harbingers are also two niches I've noticed have yet to be filled. In a world full of unfair deaths, I can think of few miserable ends more unfair than death through allergies, an affliction which the people of Golarion understand but not have the means to treat. With it, I'm also introducing the concept of the Phylaxidaemons, plant-insect creatures who shed thick layers of choking pollen and whose poisonous touch causes horrific swelling in its victims which can lead to them choking to death as their throat closes up. The Phylaxidaemons themselves will be another post.

The second is a much more recent creation, representing death through medical malpractice and through trusting care providers who don't have your interests at heart. And with him, the introduction of the placebodaemon and iatrodaemon. CR 4 and 12, representing death by false cures and harmful "cures," respective.

Reminder that Infernal Dukes grant a spell-like of levels 3, 7, and 9 as Boons which are usable 1/day, and Daemon Harbingers grant spell-likes of levels 2, 4, and 6 usable 2/day.

Father Dermosi, Duke of the Endless Rows Lawful Evil Infernal Duke of Labor, Sacrifice, and Farming

One would not expect a devil to be a holy man, but in his life before his infernal transformation, the figure that would become Father Dermosi was a follower of Erastil. A passionate preacher, hard worker, skilled farmer, and firm believer in the cleansing power of difficult labor, Dermosi is a textbook showing of what too much fervor can do to one's mind, as he believed (and preached) a corrupt form of Old Deadeye's teachings in which backbreaking labor and sacrifice of one's own health for the good of the community were the only true sacrifices which Erastil would appreciate.

In his own words, he believed that a soul had to be "beaten into a shape that could fit through Heaven's gates," and the only way to achieve this 'shape' was to grind away at every edge and angle of one's personality until all that was left was a desire to work. Physical abuse to drive people further became more and more common, and when people began to die from him constantly pushing them to do more, many snapped to their senses and realized that he had strayed from Erastil's guidance, that this could not possibly be what the god wanted... but any who spoke up were harshly punished, exiled, or even executed by the rest of the flock, out of either fear or fervor. It was only when Erastil himself sent a few of his chosen to the town to try and fix what happening that many of Dermosi's naysayers found the bravery to stand up alongside one another, and the corrupt Father found himself facing execution or exile. He chose execution, believing he would be judged worthy of Heaven.

As one can likely tell, he didn't even see the gates before he was thrown into the fires of Hell.

Rather than turn inwards and reflect on his own wicked beliefs, Father Dermosi concluded that Heaven denying him was an error on their part, that Erastil had betrayed him rather than the other way around. As his soul became corrupted by hellfire, he concluded that Erastil's teachings were far too 'light-handed' and that Heaven didn't deserve someone with his strength of will and desire to improve himself and others, at which point he embraced his transformation into a devil and rose swiftly through Hell's hierarchy.

Father Dermosi now lays claim to the Sinner's Till, an area of Avernus where endless fields of strange and unearthly crops are nourished by and tended to by hapless petitioners and enslaved Outsiders, each one subject to the sermons and sadism of the Duke of the Endless Rows as they ceaselessly work until their souls begin to break down, allowing him to--literally and figuratively--beat them into entirely new shapes in service to the Archdevils.

Domains: Community, Evil, Law, Plant Subdomains: Devil, Sovereignty, Growth, Toil* Favored Weapon: Scythe Symbol: A bundle of corn wrapped in white or gold thread. Sacred Animals: Farm animals, particularly chickens Sacred Colors: Gold, green *Followers of Dermosi may alter any of his Domains with the Toil Subdomain, replacing the second power of each Domain and the spells granted at the appropriate levels. They may only alter one Domain in this way, and cannot alter a Domain that has already been altered by a Subdomain.

Obedience: Perform one hour of strenuous manual labor, or force another to do so with threats of pain if they do not comply. Benefit: Gain a +4 profane bonus to saves against any effect which would fatigue or exhaust you.

Boon 1: Spike Growth Boon 2: Waves of Exhaustion Boon 3: Dominate Monster

-----

Tazhimea, the Baleful Bouquet Neutral Evil Daemon Harbinger of Allergens, Stinging Insects, and Weeds

Somewhere in the dismal plane of Abaddon, there is a land where a false sun shines over a gorgeous landscape filled with a veritable rainbow of strange plants bearing an equally alien yet delicious bounty. As one may expect, this is not a place of mercy or respite, as even a single breath of its sickly sweet air can spell a miserable, choking end for most mortals. Even other daemons tend to steer clear of this place lest they, too, fall victim to the machinations of the Phylaxidaemons and their beautiful progenitor, Tazhimea.

Tazhimea appears to be some anthropomorphic butterfly or moth woven of beautiful and otherworldly plants, their wings shimmering with a myriad of colors rarely seen in nature, but standing anywhere close enough to examine the details is almost certain death; the moment one is able to smell the daemon's powerfully cloying perfume is the moment one has breathed their last, their nose overrunning with thick mucus as their throat begins to close up, all to keep out the scent. Tazhimea is Harbinger of Allergens, and thus has a unique approach to the problem of how to bring death to the masses, namely by twisting the body's own immune response against itself with puffs of spores and pollen, powerful perfumes, or the stings and bites of insects that hide within the body of the Harbinger and of its servitors. The Harbinger's garden is their laboratory as they breed together flora and fauna from all over the Great Beyond to birth creations whose effluvium triggers violent reactions in any creature that inhales or touches them, with the fiend's ultimate goal to form an allergen that can affect even them, at which point they know their work has become perfect.

Because Tazhimea's creations turn the victims' own immune system against it, there is little one can do to protect themselves from it. Living creatures that are immune to disease or poison are ironically more vulnerable to the Harbinger's foul magic as their powerful immunity goes berserk in response to a sniff of a foul but ultimately harmless perfume or a painful and debilitating but nonfatal sting, turning an attack that could have been survived into a life-threatening affliction for which there is no cure. For all the terror they bring to the living, though, they have a distinct disadvantage when combating creatures such as Elementals, Constructs, and Undead, a disadvantage which prevents them from truly seeking the throne of the Horseman of Plague.

Domains: Animal, Evil, Death, Plant Subdomains: Insect, Daemon, Growth, Venom* Favored Weapon: Rapier Symbol: A beautiful flower with a bee sitting in the center Sacred Animals: Bees and ants Sacred Colors: Green and red *followers of Tazhimea may modify the Animal Domain with the Venom Subdomain.

Obedience: Sow the seeds of plants which provoke allergic reactions. If you cannot, invoke an allergic reaction in yourself, then suffer through it for at least 1 hour before attempting to cure or alleviate it. Benefit: Gain a +4 profane bonus to saving throws against disease and poison effects.

Boon 1: Garden of Peril Boon 2: Cape of Wasps Boon 3: Greater Insect Spies

-----

Qaicol, the Honest Doctor Neutral Evil Daemon Harbinger of Placebos, False Cures, and Malpractice

A foul and recent fiend, Qaicol was once a snake-oil salesman whose silver tongue and seemingly miraculous mixtures ended numerous lives. Whether it was a balm that soothed pain but prompted hemorrhagic bleeding or some 'incredible' surgery to replace a failing organ which went tragically awry, Qaicol was at the forefront of inventing countless ways to harm others with fabricated cures and poisonous medicines, and was always a change of name and facial hair away from doing it again in the next settlement he preyed upon.

Far beyond any rational or explainable motive, Qaicol would dissect or even vivisect others to better understand the border between panacea and poison upon the body's various systems, and how the two could be blended together to provoke the most destructive reactions. Were he benevolent he could have been an incredible doctor, but as it was, he was a serial killer with a particularly sadistic modus operandi, one that involved giving another hope for a cure only to have their symptoms become worse, then terminal. His actions were not even for the purpose of becoming rich--though he did make a tidy profit off stealing and selling the belongings and even the bodies of the deceased--but from outright sadism and a wicked desire to sow public distrust towards actual, well-meaning practitioners.

Such a foul soul could only ever be condemned to Abaddon, but Qaicol's vicious drive persisted even after death. For all his power in life, though, he spent many years as a plaything in the courts of Apollyon before finally gaining the strength needed to betray and slay a pair of Harbingers--one which held dominion over surgeries, and one which delighted in spreading sickness in places of healing--and take their power for himself. He now commands squadrons of Placebodaemons and Iatrodaemons representing, respectively, those who die from false cures and those who die from medical complications, as the greatest of their numbers, and works to hock his poisonous snake oil to every corner of the Great Beyond and erode the bonds between communities and the apothecaries and doctors striving to help them.

Domains: Artifice, Evil, Healing, Trickery Subdomains: Alchemy, Daemon, Medicine, Espionage Favored Weapon: Estoc Symbol: A medicine bottle of unknown liquid with a fanciful label Sacred Animals: Snake Sacred Colors: Blue, brown

Obedience: Work to cure injuries and ailments in other creatures for one hour in whatever fashion you can. Alternately, create and/or sell false medicines. Benefit: Gain a +4 profane bonus to Bluff and Heal checks.

Boon 1: Fester Boon 2: Poisonous Balm Boon 3: Phantasmal Putrefaction

[meyerlansky]

the thing is, right, is i would by ORDERS OF MAGNITUDE prefer to talk something out with a mutual, especially if i've exchanged direct messages with them or we've moved onto other platforms to talk. once i've exchanged direct messages with someone, i consider them a friend, even if just within the fandom we share. and i would so much rather someone say to me "hey x thing made me uncomfortable" so i can hear that, respond to it, and change and improve my communication, because i really value the friends i make in fandom spaces!

but that's not what's been happening for the last year. what's been happening for the last year is, i reblog or make a post saying "jewish people in my country are scared and i stand with them," or "don't perpetuate blood libel," or "if you wouldn't call a video of an arab or muslim person being attacked 'entertaining' why would you say that about a video of an israeli or jewish person being attacked?"—and i lose followers. every single time.

for the record: i've never once said i don't support palestinian self determination. i've never once said that i think what the state of israel is doing is right or just or moral. i've never once said the violence palestinians are suffering is okay, and in fact have said multiple times that i don't think anyone deserves to suffer the way people involved in this conflict are suffering. what i HAVE said is i support jewish self determination too, and there's a lot of history people don't know or ignore, and the issue is far more complicated than ANY of the mainstream discourse around it actually delves into. and for the last year, any statement of support for jewish people—not israel the state, not israel's government, just PEOPLE WHO ARE JEWISH WHEREVER THEY ARE—does in fact lose me friends. HAS lost me friends. will probably CONTINUE to lose me friends, because for all that i'm willing to talk about this stuff, it doesn't seem like anyone else is.

i don't really know what else to do at this point. i consider myself, to some degree, part of the jewish community—i work for a jewish history organization, part of my family is jewish, many of my friends that i CONSIDER family are jewish, for years on and off i've been considering converting but if i don't take that step [mostly because i don't believe in a higher power of ANY kind] i still consider myself an ally. and i think it's telling that the only anon hate i've ever gotten on this website is someone calling me a zionist cunt TEN YEARS AGO, because i reblogged posts about jewish issues back then too.

again, i'd really rather talk this shit out. and not just this; other stuff too! ESPECIALLY other stuff, because there's nothing as loaded as this topic right now, and that means fandom shit is a goddamn cakewalk. but i'm also not abandoning my jewish friends and family just because the going's getting tough. so. there's that.

[smallishzine]

hey guys thank you for the lovely responses to the interest form, I appreciate everyone calling me handsome and amazing and tall, and also to everyone calling me an idiot you’re in fact correct but guess what you’re the one filling out the form and I’m the one who made it so shut up shut up hahahaha. Sorry. I don’t mean that, please don’t shut up I’ll be very sad if everyone shuts up and I’ll have no one to talk to. This post is to address some of the things that you pointed out as us having forgotten, and we preemptively apologize for burying important info in this mess. It’s like a scavenger hunt! Or bureaucracy. Take your pick.

how humble we are (true, true. So humble. The humblest.)

smallishbeans (I’m fairly certain we remembered this one)

an ego check (yup, still there)

Eefo (you’re so right it’s a crime that we’ve forgotten him we will rectify this mistake immediately)

many variations of “timeline?” which we answered in this post

that you, the form fillers, are tall and handsome as well (indeed)

that one of you was watching shrek 2 as they filled out the form (good job. We approve. Not that you should care what random people on the internet think of your taste in movies, but 👍)

more smallishbeans (it’s like they knew)

how much one of you loves ldshadowlady, sparkle heart emoji (true and real. Only correct take. We also love ldshadowlady)

chicken murder (we decided to put the chicken murder before the form rather than in it, so as not to distract from your form filling experience. We apologize if this isn’t what you wanted, we will be sure to include more chicken murder in future forms.)

A spot for obvious professionals in form filling to rate the form, so they had to do it in the what did we forget box. we received the following ratings: 5/10, 10/10 (< a genuine thank you to whoever submitted this one), 0/10 (:(), 7.3/15, 6/20, and several more

multiple variations of “age limit?” Which we answered in this post

Jeremys blessing (which we actually didn’t forget you stupid idiot haha I’m sorry I don’t know what came over me I promise you are not a stupid idiot even if you don’t finish reading forms before submitting)

that one of you likes shrek but is cooler than us so really the form is egregiously incorrect (egregious is a bit harsh. More, stupendously incorrect! Or, fantastically incorrect! Also, if you’re so cool, why don’t you prove it by participating in the zine huh? Huh? Thought so. 😎)

That I am cool, and I haven’t forgotten but you wanted to remind me (I am mod Dinn and I approve this message)

our epic arson related plan of action for when the ship burns (I’m afraid I have some bad news for you…)

“Can I join??” (yes)

hey it’s you dailyboatboys let you in let you in let you in (absolutely)

other words of affirmation that we greatly appreciate. Everyone who called me cool, handsome, amazing, and other good things or who complimented the form or who expressed excitement and interest in the zine hold a special place in my heart. I read through every response so far and to every person who said that I was really cool, or that they were super excited for the zine, or that the interest form was really good, or that they were so down participate, thank you. Now enough with being sappy back to answering questions, lightly worded hate mail, and people who are also obsessed with Joel smallishbeans!

you’re all idiots (due to limited funds we cannot afford to purchase our own suggestion box, so we are currently borrowing the permit office’s. Did you hear that sound that sounds exactly like sizzling lava consuming a piece of paper with your eloquently worded submission on it? That’s the sound of our complaints department hard at work to remedy this issue. Thank you for filling out the form!)

can you write ships? (This is a really complicated question which we have a lot to say on so we’ll make a separate post explaining more in depth, but the gist is: yes, but that yes has an asterisk attached with a footnote a mile long)

a spot for ideas about what pieces you may contribute, which is actually a good point we’ll probably poll about what things people most want to see/art pieceify (writing is art too) at some point. As for your admission of obsession, gender-neutral-dude, what do you think we are?

these are just some of the responses we received, thank you to everyone who has filled the form out so far, and you haven’t, what are you doing here go fill out that form!!

-mod Dinn

[transient-winds]

HI YES HELLO I’M ALIVE and the yapping is back (it never left)!!

Just when the summer bbq is concluding. 🥹

Uhh looking back at this post, it’s highkey a sako character analysis post in disguise. Spoilers Ahead for Wind Breaker Chapters 160 & 161! (as promised with doodles)

This last panel with everyone toasting to each other feels like the end to the Summer BBQ event, at least to me. *shakes and wails off into the corner*

So many friendships being strengthened, healing/healed and being made in this one event is making my heart do somersaults. GAHHH!! I would’ve loved if we stayed in this wholesome moment a little longer if it is the last but oh well at least these recent two chapters have given me two things to brainrot about for a while. 🤧

Sako Kota and his relationships

Hooray!! We finally get to see the (much needed) closure of HiraSako’s *gestures wildly* everything, in that moment my spirit synced up with Inugami. 

I’m sure it doesn’t take a genius to point out Sako had an unhealthy dependency towards Hiragi from when they were kids up ‘til the Shishitoren arc. On the surface level, Sako’s reasons for getting back at him may seem very immature and they are but I also see where it stemmed from. Hiragi was essentially the first to take a chance on him when he was at his lowest and gave him a chance to better himself.   Hiragi to him was the pinnacle of strength and security, his guiding light (Chapter 15). He likely thought that even when things change, he would always be by his side because with him, he’s safe—with him, he’s strong. Stronger than he was before, someone who wouldn’t let bullies trample over him.

So when the latter told him he was following Ume and that he should follow his own path, which is normally very inspiring, Sako took it as abandonment. In his eyes, his pillar of strength was no longer holding up the weight of his (Hiragi’s) own roof but rather someone else’s (Umemiya’s’) and he was left in the ruins (dramatic ass analogy I know but it works).

“If Hiragi had been the source of his strength, then if he beats Hiragi that means he’s reclaiming that strength as his own right?” was what probably went through his head when he started picking fights and joined Shishitoren.

His reliance on Hiragi was still there but now it was twisted and he likely started hating himself for having been content with remaining a follower. If you asked my personal thoughts about this, I would say it was unfair. Not just for Hiragi bearing the weight of his unreasonable expectations, but also for Sako himself whose helplessness as a child manifested into the ugly beast that is emotional dependency. 

Deep down, he was still the same hurt child who couldn’t fight back against his bullies and needed someone to support him. When that support came and fell through, he thought defeating Hiragi was his way of proving to himself that he can stand on his own without relying on others. The point when things finally climaxed (aka the Hiragi vs Sako fight) was the moment when Sako had begun letting go of his heart demons. Turns out he just needed to have a talk or two with Hiragi. Communication and respect are the keys to any healthy relationship after all, even if said communication is thru fists but they are delinquents so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. 

With that tangent on Sako’s previous ideologies out of the way, another thing I noticed in his official apology was that he called Inugami “kohai” and also like other things he said, but mainly that part. Maybe I’m reading into it or im late to the party, but me thinks he was somewhat of recluse in Shishitoren. Like sure, he wouldn’t be outright hostile but he wouldn’t be actively making friends either.

When Inugami first appeared and was very comfortable talking to him, it made me think “ah this is Sako’s new bestie when he came to Shishitoren, it’s good someone was there for him while he was gunning for Hiragi”.  But with this new context, in my head it makes sense if he only joined because he wanted revenge so he likely wouldn’t have reached out if he was so fixated on his goals. And with the whole uh pre-Shishitoren arc Choji and Togame thing going around, yeah I wouldn’t also be eager to make be friendly with them too. But somewhere along the way he got attached to them, he just didn’t realized it at the time.

After Bofurin bulldozes in with their life changing fists and kicks, Sako leaving wouldn’t have been a hard decision for him to make since (1) he’s got presumably no friends and (2) he wants to wallow in self pity alone for a good long while. Then comes crashing in sweet boy Inugami and honestly? I don’t blame Sako for spilling his entire backstory on the guy. I mean look at his face!! 

He’s Sako’s emotional support dog. 

Anyways, in my heart I’d like to believe Inugami was the second person to reach out to him. Offering him another chance to lean on support and start anew on learning to be okay with accepting a hand or two but not to the extreme. Trusting others and letting people in again, but also learning to trust in himself too.

And so far, things are going pretty well for him. Found family within Shishitoren, got someone who’s unafraid to keep him in check and repaired his relationship with Hiragi & his other childhood friends! Throwing all the confetti and sweets for him <3

HOO-WEE THAT WAS SO FUCKING LONG 😭😭 

I wanted to add more to this latter half of this discussion but the Sako-brainrot took over, so i’ll just briefly cover my thoughts on Sakura’s progress.

Two words: SAKURA’S GROWTH! 

HE IS BLOOMING IN THE SUMMER HEAT OF JULY, HE’S RADIANT AND HIS SKINS GLOWING AS HE SMILES, IM SMOTHERING HIM IN A PILE OF FLOWER BOUQUETS -*ahem*

Sakura really has come a really long way from the person he was 4 months ago and it’s a real tear-jerker. Even if he didn’t say it to their faces directly, he called his class his friends and he hangs out with the others (their allies) on his own whenever he has the time. Sakura’s getting comfortable with all of them and I cannot believe that after 160+ chapters this is the first canonical mention of the “stray cat” analogy. His first year and he already won the hearts of so many people, deserved really 🙌. 

Honorable mentions:

The Kanuma and Suo reunion I’ve been waiting for 👏👏. But it’s not enough,, so I’m gonna post a doodle of their mini interaction to satisfy my craving for enemies to friends and/or lovers suonuma 🏃🏃

!!Togame and Choji apologizing to Kaji!! I almost forgot Choji completely trashed him and other Furin students on his way to the school.  

This panel is my everything, it’s so sweet like y’ALL I’M HERE THINKING ABOUT WHO KNOWS HOW LONG YANAGIDA AND MATSUMOTO HAVEN’T SEEN AND TALKED TO THEIR CUTE KOHAI WHO FOLLOWED HIRAGI AROUND LIKE A DUCKLING. IM UGGHHH- *stumbles to the ground and wails pathetically*

Sugi? Sweet boy, what are you contemplating about 👀? If you asked me, I hope it’s about Sakura AND/OR will be relevant to the next arc of the series because my body is simultaneously ready and not ready for new antagonists.

—

Once again singing my praises to Nii-sensei, his team and the official english translation staff. My head is constantly in a spin for these characters and their interactions with one another. And thank y’all for being patient with me for this post and for reading til the end.

[forwhump]

a/n; for my anon that was having a bad week <3 IM SORRY FOR THE DELAY I couldn’t find the thing I wanted to post for you but I couldn’t just keep posting nothing so here’s something instead <3 I hope I didn’t make it way worse 😚 (if I did pls lmk I’ll redeem myself 🫡)

disclaimer: if you haven’t already noticed yes this is just a big outlet for me for every whump thing I want in the world <3 thanks for coming along for this ride w me 😚 LOL

tw/cw: medical torture, medical abuse, surgical torture, living weapon whumpee, graphic depictions of violence, major character death, severe brain injuries, amnesia, threats of violence, graphic depictions of violence, gun violence, science fiction

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” Silas says, cracking his knuckles. “I like you, man.”

Medic’s face doesn’t change but he swallows so loudly Silas can hear him over the pounding of the alarm. Sitting behind his desk, he stares up at him, his pale face glowing red every few seconds in the flash of the emergency lights. The flickering red light of his shock collar glows out of time, keeping him cast in red. It makes him look really sick. Kinda frail. Silas had never noticed quite how small Medic is. They’re all so fuckin’ small. Why is Silas the pet?

It makes him think of Wren, as most things do. He’s always thinking about Wren in some capacity; everything always comes back around to Wren somehow, even without his meaning to. They’re all so small but Wren is the smallest, so small it’s hard for Silas not to find it kind of bizarre, so human it gave him this glowing, angelic sort of quality. Silas had been engineered for violence, for easy slaughter, but he hadn’t been engineered to be a guard dog — that was something Wren brought out in him, something organic. Maybe the only bit of free will Silas had ever managed, and there’s Wren again, at the centre, glowing and holy and so fuckin’ small.

All anybody wants to do is hurt him. It makes Silas violent, just as much as it’s never made a lick of fuckin’ sense to him. All anybody around Wren ever wants to do is hurt him. Silas lives and breathes violence — Wren does, too. It follows him. This silvery, holy thing.

Everything about Wren is good, is silvery, is holy. He’s angelic in the way he shimmers, but in everything else about him, too, every organic cell and strand of DNA. Wren is so good. Wren is pure goodness. His view of the world is narrowed to a single point, but it’s hard for Silas to imagine many corners of the world are much worse than this. Are people not most themselves at their worst? Wasn’t it Wren that told him that?

Silas isn’t a good person. He knows that. He isn’t at peace with it, he’s been fighting it tooth and talon, but he knows what he is, and he’s a bad dog at the very kindest. Freak fuckin’ science experiment at worst. He’s violent. Mean. Quick to anger and just as quick to slaughter. He’s impatient. Wren had to teach him manners, and he’s had to teach him more than once. Still, Wren taught him. Wren teaches him still. Wren, who’s been hurt in ways even Silas kinda struggles to fathom, who would have every reason in the world to be just as violent, as mean, as impatient as Silas, but who isn’t. Who sat on the floor with him for days at a time and patiently taught Silas to write his own name. Who spends days sitting at Silas’ bedside, reading to him quietly, when Silas is too incapacitated to move. How can anybody want to hurt a person like that? How can everybody?

To Silas, they’re all so small. Disposable. But they’re so much bigger than Wren. Point was always so much bigger than Wren. Point always liked to hurt him the most.

Silas cracks his neck. “I just want to know where they are.”

There had been a lockdown. Silas had been the cause of every district lockdown so far — he’s never been on the outside of one before. It had happened during a field test, and it was the first time he’s ever seen the manufactured sun of the arena turn red. He should’ve known it was an omen. From there, he was thrown into isolation, but it was like no other time Silas had been in isolation. Nobody showed up to skin him, or cane him, or beat him, or gut him. Nobody showed up to taunt him. They didn’t even restrain him, not really, they just left him alone in the dark. He was left in proper isolation for the very first time.

When he was finally allowed back to the unit, Wren was gone. His room was cleared out. His books had been taken from Silas’ room like he had never been there at all. They keep trying to tell him he had never been there at all.

But Point had never come back, either, and Silas isn’t a smart man, but he’s smarter than these people keep giving him credit for. He was smart enough to figure that one out. When it comes to Wren, there isn’t anything he can’t do. Wren makes him smart, and he makes him invincible. If Wren’s out there somewhere, Silas is going to find him, it doesn’t matter what he has to do. If Point had taken him, if Point is putting his hands on him, if Wren is out there somewhere and he’s hurt, and he’s scared, he’s probably thinking about Silas, and there isn’t anything in the fuckin’ world Silas won’t do to save him. He’ll massacre everybody in this place and outside of it if he has to.

He doesn’t want to kill Medic. He’s always been good to him. But he will if he has to. He’ll kill any one of them if he has to.

“I don’t know,” Medic tells him, and he’s doing a good job of keeping his face straight but his eyes are huge, shining in the flashing red light. “You know they don’t tell me anything. Come on, big guy.”

“Medic,” Silas warns, almost sing song.

Abruptly, he pushes his chair back, and it collides with the concrete wall with a sound that makes Silas’ back teeth hurt. “I don’t know, buddy,” he says. “I’m sorry. I don’t know.”

There’s already blood on Silas’ hands — on his teeth. He’d had to kill a lot of Medic’s team to get here. He didn’t even know Medic had an office; he’s never been in this part of the medical bay before. It will never forget him. He’ll be a stain on the walls, and the floors, and the ceilings of this place for a very long time.

He picks a chunk of flesh out from under his fingernail and says, “Medic.”

“Silas,” he tries. “Come on, big guy. I’d tell you if I knew. I think — I think he’s probably in a lot of danger and I want you to find him, buddy. You need to find him. But I don’t know where he is.”

Silas tilts his head. Watches him, for a moment, through flickering red light. “Are you lying to me?”

“No,” Medic croaks. “I’ll come with you. I can help you, big guy. You don’t — you don’t know what you’re in for up there up, Silas, but I do, and I — I can help you. I can help you find him. I can help him when we get there. He’ll need a doctor and I — don’t hurt me, buddy. Come on. I’ve tried to be good to you both. I can — I can help.”

Silas watches him again, silent. It feels like bait and he doesn’t like it, but he used to trust Medic. Wren always trusted him, before he disappeared out from under his nose, and Wren’s trust goes a long way as far as Silas is concerned.

And he’s right, to a degree. Silas would make quick work of butchering every breathing thing above ground to find his way to Wren, but it would still take time he could spare if he knew how to find him.

Slowly, he lifts his chin.

Medic’s face finally changes. Not for the better. “Silas —” is all the time he has before pain explodes through the back of Silas’ head.

It comes out of nowhere and it almost knocks him off his feet. It’s hot, it’s blisteringly hot and his sweatshirt starts to stick to his back, wet.

The red light continues to flicker but it dims, it gets sort of smoky, and through the smoke Medic is saying something but Silas can’t hear him at all.

Fuck, he thinks, and lifts a hand to the back of his head. Accidentally almost sticks his finger in a gunshot wound.

Instinctively, he turns.

He’s executed in Medic’s office by means of firing squad.

Staring blankly up at the ceiling, Silas listens to the crackle of electricity as it courses and the hollow chirping of the machines keeping him alive. “I don’t wanna die,” he says. He’s not ready yet.

Medic sniffles. He’s been crying for hours and Silas has never felt the way he feels now, not once in his short life. “I’m so sorry, big guy,” he admits, rubbing his face. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to do now.”

Silas has died a lot, and he’s died miserably, but never permanently. Never for real. He’s always been revived, reanimated. He’s never had to fear death because it never really meant anything to him. He’s out of his element now. He doesn’t know this part.

For as long as he can remember, Silas hasn’t been human. Now he’s only meat and machine. The only part of him that’s still him, the only part of him that’s still working on his own is his brain, and that’s only until they finally decided to take him off life support and remove it.

He’d been eviscerated. The flayed skin of his chest and his stomach are pulled tightly over the table, clamped in place. Most of the meat and the muscle had been removed, his ribcage pried apart. Every organ, a lot of his major veins and arteries, they’re threaded with wires and cords, sparking with electricity and the current that courses from the chrome and flickering lights at his bedside, keeping him alive until they decide to shut it all down.

Silas is going to be put down.

It doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t feel like anything. It’s the most painless way he’s ever died but it’s bitter at the back of his throat. Metallic. Finally, Silas is going to be put down.

Wren is still out there somewhere, and Silas is never gonna know what happened to him. He’s not gonna be able to save him this time. He isn’t all that familiar with death, the permanent kind, and he doesn’t really know what comes after, but he knows for sure that he isn’t gonna end up in the same place Wren does. He wishes he could go where Wren’s going. He’s never gonna get to see him again.

Silas always knew his life was gonna be short. There wasn’t ever really a question. But it wasn’t supposed to happen like this. He’s not ready to go.

This can’t be it for him, not really, not permanently. It can’t. Not while Wren is still out there.

He’d been too violent in the aftermath. He hadn’t reacted well. And they can’t control him the same anymore, not without Wren to hold over his head. He was formally declared a liability. He’s no longer worth the risk.

Turning his head slowly, Silas says, “do something for me.”

Medic sniffles again, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “Anything.”

“You gotta get out of here,” Silas tells him. “You gotta find him. You gotta help him.”

He looks at Silas, and he looks at him earnestly. He’s been crying on and off the entire time he’s been at his bedside, and it’s been moderately irritating at the best of times, suffocating at worst. But he’s been at Silas’ bedside the entire time. The whole time he’s been dying, Medic has been there. He’s never left. He’s done his best to keep him comfortable. All things considered, Silas owes him most of his lives. He doesn’t owe Silas anything, he’s done more than his part, but he says still, “I will.”

“Take care of him for me,” Silas says.

“I will,” he repeats, and he sniffles again but his nod is firm. Definitive. “He’ll be okay.”

Silas looks back up at the grey ceiling and tastes bile. Out of habit, he takes a deep breath.

When they had first disemboweled him, when they had strapped him down to the table and peeled all the meat away from his ribcage, pulled his ribcage apart, the inside of his body had been loud, but it had been wet, it was alive. Now, it’s just as loud, maybe louder, but the sounds are wheezy and dry. Mechanical. Only his brain is working on its own — the rest is all simulated. It’s all machines.

It hurt a lot as his body was dying. Mercifully, it doesn’t hurt anymore. He thinks it’s kind of fucked up that his most permanent death is gonna hurt the least.

“Do you think he’ll forget about me?” He asks the ceiling.

“No,” Medic answers, even before he’s finished speaking. “I think he’s going to think about you every day for the rest of his life.”

Silas had spent every day of his life, since meeting Wren, thinking about him. Most of what Silas thinks about, in fact, is Wren. Everything he did, he did for Wren. He didn’t usually make his life any better, any easier, but he tried. Fuck, he tried.

He wasn’t a good dog, that’s the worst part. He tried, tooth and fuckin’ nail he tried, but to what end? Silas’ brain is going to be removed. Wren’s gone, and Silas doesn’t know where. He isn’t safe, he’s being hurt, he knows that, but for the first time, Silas is absolutely helpless to do anything about it. Silas is going to die without ever seeing him again.

“Nobody that’s known you will ever forget you, big guy,” Medic tells him. “I don’t want you to worry about that.”

“I’m not worried about me,” Silas says. The beat of his heart sounds like the beeping of a heart monitor.

He sighs softly, shifting in his chair. He sniffles again. “I’ll make sure he’s okay,” he says. “I promise.”

“This sucks, man,” Silas says helplessly.

He chokes out a wet laugh. He sobs, too. “I’m gonna miss you, buddy,” he says.

Restrained to the surface, he lifts his fist from the table as far as he can. “See you in hell?”

He sobs again. He laughs, too. “I’ll see you there. Tell you what,” he says, knocking his fist against Silas’, “when I get there, you can call me Jed.”

“Why?” Silas asks. “What’s Jed?”

He chokes out another sound, rubbing his mouth as he does it. “My name.”

“I thought your name was Medic,” Silas says, but it makes sense that it wouldn’t be his real name, because that’s also his job. He’d just never considered him having a real name, and he doesn’t wanna think about how much else is out there that’s he never considered, that he doesn’t know, that he’ll never know, but he can’t help it and it would make him vomit if his stomach had anything in it but active circuits and live wires. As it is, it crackles loudly with electricity.

But Medic laughs again, and it lightens the burden a little bit. It sits better than the crying. “That’s a lie,” he says. “It’s actually Jed.”

Silas lifts the corner of his mouth. “You might have to remind me next time.”

“I will,” he agrees. When the door beeps, a keycard being accepted, Medic takes his hand. “I’m gonna miss you, Silas.”

Silas says, “find Wren.”

It’s Carver that comes to loom over the head of the table. Carver specializes in head, face, and brain; Weaver specializes in organs and meat.

“Asset Park,” he says, “we want to thank you for your service.”

“Get fucked,” Silas says. Panic rises in his chest, and it surprises him.

The last thing he ever thinks about is Wren.

Jed doesn’t move from his chair, and the surgeon doesn’t ask him to. He doesn’t know if this one is Carver or Weaver; he doesn’t care. They’re both creepy, surgeons straight from horror movies, mad scientists from some especially miserable circle of hell.

He sits, watches. Doesn’t quite know why; figures Silas deserves that. Doesn’t deserve to be alone for this.

Except it isn’t what Jed thought it was going to be. Silas’ brain isn’t removed. It isn’t destroyed. Once his scalp is peeled down over his face, the top of his skull is sawed off, and once the bone is lifted out of place, the surgeon starts cutting into his brain, injecting into the tissue, with his other hand, something that Jed doesn’t recognize, something that looks like oil in the syringe.

He has to swallow before he can ask, “what are you doing?”

The surgeon doesn’t answer him.

He’s been crying for days, but it stops quickly. Nausea roils in. Silas was scared, and for that, Jed can’t imagine, but Silas’ life had been so miserable. It had been so painful. As resistant as he had been, he was tired. He deserves to rest. “You’re not gonna let him die?”

The surgeon doesn’t lift his head, but he makes a, “heh,” sound, which probably passes as amusement for him.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” he says.

“Asset Park is our most advanced weapon,” the surgeon answers, clipped, not lifting his head. “His execution would be a bitter waste.”

“What are you doing to him?” Jed asks, and the words are stale.

“Cutting out the cancer,” he says.

The first time Silas wakes up, he’s pissed. He’s pissed. The creepy surgeon dorks are supposed to be smart. They’re supposed to be the smartest. Even they can’t kill him?

The first time Silas wakes up, he wakes up during surgery, and he is so. Fuckin’. Tired. Of being awake during surgery. It’s hard to explain how much something like that hurts; it’s a pain beyond Silas’ means of description. They have to think he’s dead, they have to, because his arms aren’t restrained, but they should be smarter than that, right? They can’t tell the difference between a dead Silas and a live one?

He grabs the closest by the throat. He doesn’t know who it is — he can’t tell any of them apart in surgery, not really. They look identical, Weaver and Carver and their swarms of surgical teams. They all dress in black, surgical caps and masks and scrubs. They all have the same hungry eyes. Silas grabs one of them by the throat, it doesn’t really matter which one, because a different one quickly slits the inside of his elbow, then his wrist with a scalpel. He drops them, grunts in frustration. Drops his arm back against the table with a thunderously loud noise. Loses a couple seconds as unconsciousness creeps up on him again.

When he comes to a second time, one of the surgeons is looking at him with shining eyes. “Still,” he tells Silas, “somehow, you surprise us.”

When he wakes up, he wakes up in a bland, grey room, beneath bland, grey sheets. The surgeon standing over him is a jarring contrast, dressed all in black. It’s very small. He doesn’t recognize it.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” It asks, leaning in too close to his face.

He thinks. He can’t think of anything.

The surgeon’s eyes crinkle above its black mask. “Excellent,” it says.