#to be perfectly clear this is not attacking anyone in particular

[adeceasedtulip]

I need to have a little rant about what people think ao3 is for exactly. I think it should be more well known than it is (especially to new users) that ao3 is an ARCHIVE. It's a library. Made purely for the storage and backup of fan-made works. For everyone to be able to access.

I've been thinking about this all day. A prime example of what we shouldn’t let this site be treated like is how libraries are treated at the moment. Surely you have heard about the book bans that have been happening around the US and even in parts of the UK, too. It's censorship of free thinking that corporations and governments want to manipulate.

Trying to enforce policing content on ao3 because you've seen something you didn't like and believe other people shouldn't see that content also, isn't right. It is also exactly what those corporations and governments that you claim to hate want.

It's like banning a book in a library. It may not agree with you but it might resonate with someone else. Resonate with them to believe in something and make their OWN opinions about the literature they've just consumed and how it affects their perspective.

Please be mindful of what I call the shiny tab rule. You might see a dingey can tab and throw it away but someone else might be the magpie in this situation and LOVE that can tab. Am I being too metaphorical here?

Overall, Archive of Our Own is a nonprofit organisation made by fans for fans. So if you enjoy the content that doesn't offend you or whatever, then you should still treat what offends you with decency. The content you like might offend someone else so surely the answer here is to both agree to disagree and move on.

Censorship on the Archive is not the answer. See something you don't like? Click off or filter your tags next time. Simple as.

[theconstitutionisgayculture]

Genuinely trying to understand why a gay person would be supporting the party you do.

Not American myself but from what I understand there’s a lot of homophobia there.

It doesn’t look like Democrats are perfect either but at least less hostile to gays?

I'll dispense with my usual "Shut the fuck up European" image response because you do actually seem genuine, so here's my genuine answer.

Yeah, there's some homophobia on the right. Some. It's nowhere near what the media would have you believe. But there's homophobia on the left, too. The left just has the media and their ability to shape a narrative on their side. The worst thing I've had said to me by someone on the right was that they don't support gay marriage and think its a sin. Or that they think gay sex is disgusting. And that's fine. I don't like hearing about certain sexual acts myself and find them gross and weird. I don't need anyone else to approve or support my sex life.

And as for the part about gay marriage, I understand where most of them are coming from when they say that, too. They truly feel that their religious beliefs are under attack and that religious marriage is supposed to be between one man and one woman. But even many of those people will say that they don't really care if gays get legally married as long as there's some differentiation between the religious ceremony of marriage, and the legal institution of marriage, which are two different things. I personally don't need anyone to validate my marriage but me and my husband. I don't care if it's legally recognized. I don't care if it's recognized by any particular church. My marriage and my relationships are my own personal business. And there are a lot of people on the right who feel the exact same way.

So, that's the worst I've gotten from the right. Let's talk about the worst I've gotten from the supposedly gay friendly left. The following is not a complete list, but here's some of the things that I've been told by Democrats and other leftists when they find out I'm a gay right winger, both online and offline:

Kill yourself

Die faggot

You should be gay bashed

I hope you get raped by a closeted Republican politician

I hope your dog dies

Kill yourself

You're a traitor to all gay people

Kill yourself with one of those guns you love

I hope you get cancer and die horribly

I hope your husband dies

You should be sent to a concentration camp

Kill yourself

and basically every anti-gay slur you can possibly think of

That's what I get from the left, from other gay people, when they find out I vote differently then they do. Just based on these anecdotal experiences with the American right and the American left, I think it's pretty clear why I find myself on one side and not the other.

But!

I'm not a one issue voter. Gay issues are mostly meaningless to me. What I care about are personal freedoms, protecting my rights, and the success of my country on the world stage. Currently, the American right aligns with those beliefs way more than the left. That's not to say the Republican Party always aligns perfectly with what I want or believe, but the reality is we live in a two party system. Until enough of us get together and make a nationally viable third party, if the choice in presidential elections is between one party that I almost never agree with and whose stated goals are to violate my rights and destroy everything I love about America, and one party that does what I voted for them to do around half the time, of course I'm voting for the second party nationally.

Locally it can be a bit different. It's easier to effect local elections and policies just by being active, and in geographically close areas the differences between the people running for town council might not be as wide as two people running for president nationally, so I won't just vote the R party line by default. I've voted libertarian locally before. Hell, I even voted Democrat once. But, for the most part, it's the Republicans who I feel will do what I think should be done more than the other parties. And that's why I vote for them, and why I'm a registered Republican. Well, that and I want to be able to vote in the Republican primaries.

[strwbnnie]

i am so upset. we’ve been moots for like a month now and i haven’t come to throw some filth in your ask box yet 😩 buT it’s not too late!

alsO hI miya it’s nice to officially greet you 👉🏾👈🏾 i’m glad you enjoyed reading warm bodies! how are ya?

clears throat this is so long and i’m sorry but i like to ramble when i have ideas

So, I was lowkey just scrolling through your blog (i need to read more of your tasty ass work fr fr) and I noticed you reblogged a short fic about villian Kiribaku… A concept that has been untouched by my brain and was probably for good reason because now all I can think about is Red Riot the hardening villain who uses unbreakable to strike fear into civilians, heroes, and villains who dare to threaten his authority. Red Riot the villain is fucking huge and bulky and still has a smile of sunshine but a heart darkened by a selfish society. He honestly gives me Pain vibes, and idk if you’ve ever watched The Boys but I think he’d fit in perfectly with them, he definitely wants to kill heroes who don’t deserve to be called heroes.

Red Riot is very meticulous about the crimes he commits but there is one thing for sure— he loves a good fight. Doesn’t matter where the fight is or when it is, if there’s a fight brewin’ he’ll be there to find it. Also, random fact, he likes rocks soooo… he robs a lot of jewelry stores when he wants to add to his collection or he goes “shopping” at museums.

For example, big boy Riot has left the headquarters in search of a way to get his knuckles bloody, cruising around, looking for a hero to pick a fight with. Listen, even he’s got standards. He’s murdered a couple of people but never innocent ones, only heroes that don’t deserve their titles. And for that, he’s wanted by the Japanese government… Why’s he still walkin’ around like he’s some regular civilian though? I don’t even know. But… oh! Look at that, a hero.

The name of this hero doesn’t matter, he’ll scrapbook it later. A grin spreads across the villains face, a set of razor sharp teeth reveal themselves as he begins to approach the unsuspecting hero, following them to a more secluded part of the city to minimize witnesses as well as collateral damage.

This particular hero has quite a destructive quirk, so it’s truly no surprise that as soon as Red Riot attacks him, the hero begins to lay in blows that aren’t held back in the least. Indiscriminate waves of the disastrous quirk, that Red Riot easily dodges or blocks, cause nearly irreversible damage to nearby buildings, which no-doubt is putting civilians in even more danger than Red Riot’s presence alone. This is exactly /why/ he does the things that he does. With just one stupid fucking test, anyone could become a hero, even psychopaths like this.

As the hero is attempting to knock Red Riot down, the redhead villian doesn’t halter in anyway, getting closer and closer to the hero that looks like their about to shit their pants right in the alley. He’s nearly a foot away from the hero when he hears a blood-curdling scream that appears to be coming from above. He takes a moment to glance up and sees a woman plummeting to her death from the destroyed building that was just beside the alley. Then he looked back at the hero to see if he would do anything.

No. He was far too busy trying to keep his own ass safe. And for some reason, that pissed him off beyond comparison. He’d been holding back since the fight began, giving the hero a chance to defend himself, but it appeared time was running out. Hardening his fist, he aimed a blow directly to the hero’s face, satisfied with the sickening sound of flesh and bone breaking from the heavy punch, and watched the hero fly back into a pile of garbage bags, deserved.

With the screaming come closer and closer to where he was, Red Riot used the debris of the crumbling building to propel himself upwards and easily captured the woman who’d been falling, only then taking note of the bundle of life that she had protectively curled over. As they approached the ground, he hardened his legs and landed with ease, causing quite an indent in the earth.

While she’d been falling, hero eyes remained shut the entire time, but when she stopped falling, suddenly becoming hyper aware of her surroundings and the big strong arms that were wrapped around her rather protectively, she slowly opened one eye to take a peek at her savior.

In all his glory stood the infamous new Hero Killer, staring down at her with an arched brow on his handsome yet rugged face. The childhood scar on his eyelid had somewhat faded but fresh scars had been added to his face, a few nicks on his chin, cheek, and forehead, but they didn’t take away from his handsome appearance. He’d been wearing a red sleeveless hoodie, that showed off his muscular arms and a sleeve of ink that started from his right wrist, up the entirety of his arm, and disappeared under the hoodie no-doubt covering his right pec with a decorative tattoo, along with some plain black cargo shorts. His hair was spiked in the front and the rest flowed down his back in a mullet of sorts. She hadn’t realized she bad been silently staring at him in awe until he cleared his throat, asking if she was alright. Weirdly enough, she felt comfortable enough to answer him honestly, along with thanking him for saving her life. Unexpectedly, a cocky grin spread across his face and an idea came to mind.

“I’ve got other ways you can thank me, lil’ diamond.”

Next thing she knows, Red Riot aka Hero Killer 2.0 is mumbling some name that starts with a ‘K’ and a portal of purple smoke suddenly forms beside them out of thin air. Poor girl is basically kidnapped right then and there, but who woulda thunk Red Riot wanted a reward for taking down another hero and that reward just happened to be the lil’ milf who’d just dropped from the sky (or destroyed apartment building more specifically).

Don’t worry though, he may be a villain but he’s sweet and kind when he wants to be. And that includes taking care of you and your kid. Just like any normal abductee you question this motives and why’s he suddenly taken you from your home. He easily corrects you, saying that your home no longer existed and it was the manly thing to do to offer his surface to provide for you until you were able to get back on your feet.

(insert that one Soulja Boy audio where he says ‘HUH?!’ hella loud)

Why in the flying fuck would this man offer to take care of you? He had to have some kind of objective. But… to your surprise, he didn’t. In fact, you were free to leave whenever you wanted, and he made that clear.

Much to your surprise, Red Riot didn’t live in the LoV headquarters, he lived by himself in his own lil’ cabin in the woods that could easily fit a family or two. It was strange. You were thankful that he saved you and your baby’s life, but he was still a villain. A really, really handsome one at that. After his oh-so-caring suggestion, he mentioned if you wanted him to he would drive you back to the city and drop you off wherever you wanted to go. You dunno how it happened exactly but he’d been holding your baby while he was speaking to you, rocking the sleeping infant in his arms like he was their biological father. How was this man so fucking charismatic and sweet to you? He HAD to have some kind of ulterior motive.

Spoiler alert: yes, yes he did, but not the one you would expect from him.

Y’see… he’s always wanted a family. And here you were, dropped right into arms for the taking, and you didn’t seem to want to leave anytime soon, so he was going to use this opportunity.

A day turned into a week, a week turned into a month. And just as he promised, he took you out the house whenever you wanted and asked you each and every time if you wanted to be left in the city after your daily adventures (shopping and shit y’know, yes this man goes grocery shopping). But you always went back to his cabin with him, each and every time. Was this Stockholm Syndrome? No… couldn’t be, he openly told you to leave if you wanted to, then did that mean you were falling for the rugged mass-murdering villian? Looks that way.

As expected, the developing relationship between the three of you was not normal in the least, but it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. He’d even introduced you to some of his buddies from LoV, only the ones he trusted tbh, and after that— you now had some willing and ready babysitters on call whenever you two needed.

Who wouldn’t abuse this opportunity? After some time convincing you, Red Riot, who had disclosed to you his real name was Eijirou Kirishima, managed to get you to go on a real date with him with just the two of you. And soooooo, ya did.

Who knew a villain could be so romantic? Certainly not you. He’d wined and dined you like his life depended on it and you were now putty in his hands. Perfect. The real games could begin.

He’s called a driver to take you both home and before you know it, Eijirou’s carrying you over the threshold like the two of you had just said ‘I Do.’

cracks knuckles

Now, this is where the real fun begins.

Red Riot, the hero-killing, tall, muscular, BDE, long-haired, thick-thighed, scarred, tattooed, smiling, thieving, hardening villain… has a breeding kink. And not just that, he’s got a big fucking dick that’s usually impressively hidden behind his usual wardrobe of loose fitting pants. But, you’ve seen him adjust himself more than a few times when he thinks you’re not paying attention, but you’re sure he just does it subconsciously without even realizing.

So there’s no real surprise when he’s dropped you onto your shared bed after a date and you can see the imprint of it through the black slacks he chose to wear. You coulda swore you saw the fuckin’ thing throbbin’ through the fabric but maybe your mind was playing tricks on you.

He’s now staring you down, noticing how your eyes have stayed glued to his crotch, with a timid look with some worry hidden behind your eyes. He grins and decides to have a little show for you. You’re struck back into reality when he suddenly grabs it, giving it a lil’ squeeze and a tug, causing your thighs to rub together in anticipation.

“No need to be nervous. It ain’t gonna hurt ya, baby. Promise.”

He purred, stroking his cock a few for times for you through his pants before moving his hands to start unbuttoning his shirt.

“Think you could strip for me, mamas? I like that dress on ya… Think I’d rip it to shreds if I tried to take it off.”

Sweet fuck, when’d you become so obedient???

Before you know it, you’re both naked and on top of the bed, not even bothering to get under the comforter or the sheets. Seems you two were impatient.

Eijirou was splayed out on his back, cock on fully display as it rested against his stomach that wasn’t exactly chiseled with abs, it was a lil’ squishy but the muscles in his arms and chest were hard to ignore. And would ya look at that, you were right, he did have a nagasode and hikae style tattoo with a dragon, flowers, and other symbols. His monstrous cock was almost teasing you with its ridiculous width and length, how was that going to fit in you? With its thick tanned shaft, and its fat brink pink circumcised tip that was dribbling precum despite being only half erect. The happy trail that led to a trimmed bush of onyx hair made you think about the hyped mane of hair on his head.

He’d decided to leave the gel out of his hair this evening so the bright crimson locks flowed in waves under his head… what kinda conditioner did this man use? Them locks shiny as a muhh’fucka- No, no, no, don’t get distracted.

Where were you?

He’d had you sitting on his chest, beckoning you to straddle his face with your thighs, and when you hesitated he took matters into his own hands and grabbed you by the hips, pulling you right onto his face.

Maybe I should have mentioned earlier that he’d got a forked tongue…? Y’know, the kinda tongue a snake has… He kinda got into a bit of body modification after dropping out of U.A.

And the way he uses his forked tongue on you is heavenly. So heavenly, that you nearly hunch over and run away from his skilled tongue, whining and whimpering his name, pathetically asking him to calm down and give you some time to adjust. The iron grip on your hips forces you stay right where he wants you, thick digits easily sinking themselves into your plush hips like memory foam. He’s absolutely ravishing you with the rapid fire motions of his tongue, writing out every Hiragana symbol in the charts, observing how you react to every trace of ever symbol. And when he draws out that one symbol, his tongue acting as a brush drenched in ink and your pussy acting as the paper, he notices the way you shudder and let out a guttural moan, clenching at his hair hard enough to make his scalp burn just a fraction— he smirks, abusing this new power.

ki ki ki ki ki ki ki ki ki ki ki ki.

Ironically, the symbol that makes you shudder and silently scream sounds a bit like laughter, and laughter you shall receive. It is the best medicine after all.

Abusing this particular symbol, it is no surprise that the hardening villian soon rips an orgasm right out of your body, the searing heat that builds up inside you releasing into his mouth as you squeeze his head between your thick thighs.

Easily, Eijirou laps up your sweet nectar while groaning about how sweet and delectable you are, and gives you a moment to collect yourself, hearing the sweet pants and huffs that escape you as he rubs comforting circles onto your hips. That won’t last long, however.

“Think ya can cum on my tongue a few more times, lovely? Gotta make sure you’re slippery enough to bounce on my cock a lil’ later after all, hm? Be a good girl f’me, ya know ya can.”

my bad, my bad… went a lil’ crazy on this one 🧍 do with this as you please, aLsO i had an urge to draW hIm but i haven’t colored the lineart yet 😩 ill show ya when im doNe

You’ve been reduced to nothing but a whining, whimpering mess on the redhead’s tongue. He’s flipped and twisted your aching body so many times to get you in the perfect position, but nothing beats that good ole spread eagle.

Your hero turned villainous lover has both of those big hands holding you wide open for him, fingertips sunk into your plush flesh.

One knee is flush against the bed, the other is up against your chest, leaving nothing hidden from his fiery gaze. Your pretty pussy is his to abuse, at the mercy of that dexterous tongue and those razor sharp teeth.

Your moans and sounds are so cute to him, so pretty he wants nothing more than to keep fucking you on that long tongue.

You peer down at the beast between your thighs and the sight has you immediately tossing your head back, a breathy sigh passing through your lips.

Eijirou looks so precious—crimson eyes hooded and low, the thin sheen of your slick spread around his mouth while he licked and sucked you to another release.

‘Cu-cumming.’ Is how you’ll warn him before your pussy is creaming around that tongue again. You’re so sensitive, clit so swollen and red even the waft of his breath hurts.

But Eiji loves seeing you squirm, so much that he’s lathering your poor clit in spit, sucking the nub into his mouth just to hear you squeal as you claw at the sheets.

“Ei, p-please baby.” You’re begging, pleading for just an ounce of mercy from your lover’s tongue.

He raises his head to look up at you, or what’s left of you, granting a brief intermission as he flips you onto your belly.

He’s palming the fat of your ass, spreading you until he’s face to face with your delicious cunt and puckered asshole, his moistened lips curling up into a devilish smirk.

He loves this. He loves you and your perfect fucking pussy so much that tonight he plans on making you a mommy again. As soon as you cum for him one more time he plans to split you open and breed you.

“Just one more pretty girl, I promise.”

It’s nice to meet youuu, I love your work 🥺❤️Villian Kiri makes my pussy brain melt 🥹 I hate that it’s so short but I’m writing like 4 other one shots and my brain is a can of baked beans right now 😭

Hey bae, care to join us? @darkmajesty-xo

[esther-dot]

“The stallion who mounts the world will burn no cities now. His khalasar shall trample no nations into dust.”

“I spoke for you,” she said, anguished. “I saved you.”

“Saved me ?” The Lhazareen woman spat.

“Three riders had taken me, not as a man takes a woman but from behind, as a dog takes a bitch. The fourth was in me when you rode past. How then did you save me ?

I saw my god’s house burn, where I had healed good men beyond counting.

My home they burned as well, and in the street I saw piles of heads.

I saw the head of a baker who made my bread.

I saw the head of a boy I had saved from deadeye fever, only three moons past.

I heard children crying as the riders drove them off with their whips.

Tell me again what you saved.

“Your life.”

Mirri Maz Duur laughed cruelly. “Look to your khal and see what life is worth, when all the rest is gone.”

I have to be honest, when I first read that scene in 2008, I considered Mirri the monster that deceived and betrayed Daenerys and therefore she deserved to die.

Years later, I reread the books for the first time and Daenerys already did things I found awful so I was more open minded to take in consideration Mirri’s POV… that truly changed my opinion on what GRRM created.

Mirri Maz Duur is a brown woman who lived in a peaceful community when one day a particular strong clan of Dothraki attacked her village and that lead into the slaughter and mass rape of everyone she knew and loved.

Mirri did witness the carnage firsthand and, most importantly, she was also a victim of the Dotharki violence.

When Daenerys “saved” her, Mirri was already a broken soul and rereading that scene it seems really a sinister joke that Daenerys wanted to save a few Lhazareen women when the main reason why Drogo decided to massacre this peaceful group of people is that he needed more slaves to trade for a fleet to invade Westeros and give Daenerys a throne that didn’t mean anything to the Lhazareen.

And there is more: Daenerys “saved” Mirri and made her one of her slaves and as such she was bound to serve the new Dothraki khal, the great khal of khals who would have united the Dothraki as one horde and used them to conquer the entire world, in other words a new Dothraki prophesied to wipe out the entire world… the future looked darker with every day that passed.

From this point of view, I understood why Mirri did what she did and she wasn’t the evil witch that I believed she was at first.

I love how we can revisit a book and understand it in a completely different way!

If Mirri set out to kill Drogo, I wouldn’t blame her at all (I don’t think anyone would if Dany weren’t at the center of this), but I’m not convinced that’s what she did. She had training and experience and gave clear instructions,

But they didn’t follow them,

The same goes for when Dany asks her to save him. She gives warning about the cost and tells Dany no one can enter the tent, but Jorah takes Dany in. Somehow, people still hold her responsible for Rhaego’s death which isn’t entirely fair.

It’s perfectly understandable to not catch details on a normal reading, there are so many things to keep track of, but even if Mirri did set out to kill her oppressor, on what grounds can we object? If I had suffered what she had and Dany reproached me for not being grateful, I’d laugh at that cruel joke too.

Thank you for sharing your evolution of thought here, anon. I enjoyed reading it!

[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

Nine people died as a result of the Jan. 6, 2021 insurrection that Republicans pretend was a "normal tourist visit." Four rioters and five police officers lost their lives during the attack or in its immediate aftermath, in ways that likely would not have happened but for the Capitol riot. This death toll is rarely discussed in the media coverage of the attack, likely because journalists don't want to argue with gaslighting fascists who want to get into bad faith debates about whether the assault "caused" the heart attacks and suicides that took lives. But there is one death that no one can deny was due to Jan. 6: That of Ashli Babbitt, the QAnon-believing insurrectionist who was shot by a Capitol police officer as she attempted to lead a charge of rioters to run down fleeing members of Congress.

Instead of erasing her death in their efforts to pretend the riot was "peaceful," Donald Trump and his goons have turned the 36-year-old conspiracy theorist into a MAGA martyr. As with much of Trump's campaign antics, it calls back to the tactics of the Nazis, who turned a murdered scumbag named Horst Wessel into a fallen fascist hero honored in iconography and song. Babbitt is even easier to prop up as a sympathetic figure, she was both pretty and female.

Trump in particular likes to get maudlin, calling Babbitt an "innocent, wonderful, incredible woman." He also spent months demonizing the Capitol police officer, Michael Byrd, who was forced to shoot Babbitt that day. (Byrd's actions have been exonerated through multiple investigations, though anyone who has seen the footage of the shooting can see he had no choice.) Trump has suggested Byrd should face extra-legal execution, complaining, "if that were on the other side, the person that did the shooting would be strung up and hung." It's language that should remind us that his "bloodbath" talk is both serious and literal.

So really, it should be bigger news that recently released testimony from a White House valet shows that Trump's reaction when told about Babbitt's death was utter indifference. It's buried in a New York Times report on this recently released transcript of an interview the anonymous valet did with the House committee investigating Jan. 6. The Times reporters are more focused on the valet's recollections of how Trump told his vice president, Mike Pence, that it would be "a political career killer" if Pence refused to steal the election for him. In passing, however, they also mention Trump did not care about Babbitt's killing — and the timeline suggests he understood perfectly well at the time that Babbitt was to blame for her own death.

As the transcript shows, the investigator asked the valet about a note that was given to Trump, shortly after the shooting, informing him that "1X civilian gunshot wound to chest at door of House Chamber." The valet affirmed that he saw Trump with the note, and that they also knew of the killing because it was being reported on cable news, which Trump was watching avidly throughout the riot.

"But there was no, like, reaction" to the news, the valet explained. Trump said nothing. But shortly after being informed, he did send out a tweet telling the insurrectionists "to remain peaceful, no violence," and to "[r]espect the law and our great men and women in blue."

Everyone understands — and understood at the time — that the tweet was just a CYA measure from Trump, who stubbornly refused for hours to ask the rioters to chill out, despite drinking in all the violent images on TV. But that he issued it after being told a supporter of his was shot makes it all the more clear that his main focus at the time was disavowing responsibility for the violence he fomented.

That Trump did not actually care about Babbitt's death, outside of fears that it made him look bad, is not a surprise to most Salon readers, journalists, or anyone who is honest about Trump's utter lack of morality. Perhaps this is why this revelation isn't getting more press attention. There's a tendency in the jaded press to assume "everyone" knows that Trump has never in his life cared about anyone but himself. But not all voters know that Trump is for-real sociopathic, and they may be surprised to find he reacted to a deluded woman dying for him like normal people react to stepping on an ant.

But this should be a huge story. Trump is making his phony concern about the fates of the January 6 insurrectionists the centerpiece of his campaign. He opens his rallies with elaborate ceremonies to honor the rioters, characterizes them as "hostages" and "unbelievable patriots," and promises pardons for people convicted of assaulting police and seditious conspiracy. He pretends to care about these people to valorize his selfish efforts to overthrow democracy. His feigned love of them is also about keeping up morale among the nastier members of the MAGA movement because Trump unsubtly expects them to use violence on his behalf again.

Trump's exploitation of Babbitt's is also part of a larger habit of faking outrage over imaginary threats to innocent white womanhood from dark-skinned men. Trump loves to brag that "I protect women," which is a lie like most words that come out of his face. But he definitely likes to share his elaborate fantasies of men of color raping and killing white women. That goes back to his 2015 campaign kickoff when he said Mexicans were "rapists." He has falsely declared that, because of immigration, "women are raped at levels that nobody has ever seen before." He's recently been hyping the murder of Laken Riley, a Georgia woman who was allegedly killed by an undocumented immigrant.

Trump's lurid obsession with violence against women is dishonest on two levels. First, he's lying about the racial dynamics of gendered violence. Most men who sexually abuse, beat or kill women target those they know, and who are usually of the same race. It's not the dark-skinned strangers lurking in bushes of Trump's imagination. Trump knows this personally, as nearly all the over two dozen women who have come out with stories of being sexually abused by him are white women who met him through normal work and social situations.

Thus, Trump not only doesn't care about violence against women, he's a big fan of it. He bragged about sexually assaulting women on the infamous "Access Hollywood" tape. A New York jury found he did sexually assault journalist E. Jean Carroll in the 90s. He's repeatedly used the word "fortunately" when asked if he thinks rich men have the privilege of sexually assaulting whomever they wish. Over and over, Trump goes out of his way to defend other men who are accused of sexual harassment or abuse.

Babbitt's death is an outlier in the sense that she was the person at fault and gender had nothing to do with it. Still, Trump talks about her with the same tones of fake outrage he brings when exploiting the deaths and rapes of genuine victims. Pretending to suddenly care about violence against women when it suits his political needs is doubly gross, given Trump's otherwise lengthy record of cheerleading for gendered violence. But the mainstream media tends to avoid contrasting his pretend views on this issue with the substantial real-world evidence that he has no problem with violence against women.

The Babbitt case is especially egregious because, ultimately, her death is his fault. If Trump hadn't spun up ordinary people with lies about a "stolen" election, she wouldn't have been in the Capitol, foolishly dying for a man who does not care about her. That he's now using her corpse as a campaign prop is disgusting. Most MAGA voters will refuse to see this, of course, or make false claims that "all" politicians do it. But if they knew how little he cared, maybe a few would wake up and see that Trump would happily let them all die for him.

[mademoiselle-cookie]

Tome 8

Remember that no one forces you to read this. If you don't want to see your favorite manga being critized, block me and move on 😄

Prostitutes

The author really has a problem with women.

Jack the Ripper's victims are all (ALL) prostitutes. There is no particular reason for them to be targeted (not like in Black Butler), it's just to create fear. They are simple tools for the plan of men who don't even consider taking other targets.

The only reason is that they are easy to find. They could have been abandoned kids or sick people, it would have been even easier.

And no one points out the sexism of the situation? Even Bond?

It would be nice if we stopped using women as objects to be abused. Especially if it is not to say anything about it.

Of course, in the original story, Jack also attacks prostitutes. But we saw with the case of the Hound of Baskerville that the author doesn't give a damn, IRENE is proof that they can perfectly modify pre-existing stories. Bond is neither a trans man (?) nor a Moriarty man and even less an idiot who gets defeated by everyone.

THE FRENCH REVOLUTION is proof that they don't give a damn about historical accuracy.

What is the reaction of the prostitutes? We see that the inhabitants of Whitechapel (all males) have decided to create a militia because they do not feel safe. But what are the opinions of the sex workers? Are they afraid to go out to work? Are they resigned because they have no choice? Are they used to such horrors happening to them? The murderers say vaguely that they are afraid to go out but these are only indirect testimonies, we do not see them.

Speaking of which, isn't it a bad idea to use prostitutes as targets? They are very often victims of violence and no one will come to their defense, especially at this time. And because of their profession, they are even less respected than other poors. So it's a big gamble to use them to create fear and indignation.

In addition, the two victims were seen with different men. Didn't anyone think that the crimes had nothing to do with each other and that there was just a smart aleck trying to get noticed by communicating with the press?

Good point, the organization that created "Jack" hired someone to manipulate the press so that it would be taken seriously. But just because the press says something doesn't mean people think the same thing. (WE don't always take it seriously when the media freaks out)

The cops admit they don't give a shit about Whitechapel, why not a word about the lack of interest in prostitutes in particular?

It would even be used to make Sherlock guess that this story is fishy, ​​like: "It's horrible but murder and violence against prostitutes is pretty common, it's strange that the press would get so worked up over a jerk who could very likely take on other people's crimes."

The Lord Crime

William presented himself as the Lord of Crime for free to his enemies.

Which, I remind you, is something you do NOT do when your identity is supposed to be secret. And you don't go there with your face out in the open either.

No matter how confident you are in your abilities, you remain cautious, the unexpected can always happen. Maybe one of the fake Jack the Ripper will manage to escape or survive, maybe someone saw him and his brother and will recognize them…

Ah but that's exactly what happened!

The guy whose brain works so much that he has to sleep a lot didn't foresee that?

Jack the Ripper

The case is not closed at all, the criminal has not been captured. (Don't tell me "in reality, we didn't know who it was. It's historical respect." Because, again, I would have liked to see this respect for the French Revolution.)

However, it is this absence of a culprit that created the following mess with Chief Inspector Arterton. It is not because the innocent accused has been cleared that the inhabitants will be reassured that the murderer is potentially still at large.

Moriarty & co. could have taken advantage of this to frame someone else, a nobleman whose downfall - rather than murder - would do much to help the cause. A nobleman whose real crimes are hard to prove but whose arrest would be credible (especially if he already has a track record of corrupting officials).

And Sherlock's test wouldn't have been whether or not the people who died mysteriously in an explosion were actually the real Jack the Ripper, but on the contrary not to say that the asshole (whom he knows to be a criminal) is innocent in the only case that could put him in prison.

(It's funny that Sherlock manages to guess what happened despite the few clues, but that we don't see anything of his reasoning. Really, how did he figure it out?)

Moriarty & co vs Sherlock & co

Who remembers when I said that the men on Moriarty's side are competent while those on Sherlock's side are buffoons? Everyone I hope, I say it in every review.

Well, we have another example of this phenomenon in this volume with Lestrade and Moriarty's spy, Paterson.

One is yelling, fidgeting and using a puppet show to try to convince Sherlock to take on the Jack the Ripper case (which he already intended to do so it was useless).

The other is calm, discreet and cunning, he even seems to know Bond, the new kid on the block, pretty well. (Yet more proof that Moriarty's team has super privileged and ✨special✨ relationships with each other)

One is ridiculous, the other is classy. One is manipulated, the other manipulates. I'll let you guess who is who.

Conveniently, the spy ends up at the head of the police force at the end, even though he officially did nothing to deserve that position and doesn't seem to have the power or connections to get it (apart from his connections with Moriarty, but it's not suggested that they had a role in that).

Moriarty and Sherlock

I like their interactions. I would like to see more of them. As long as the author doesn't remind us that Sherlock is inferior, the two respond well to each other.

Speaking of which…

Sherlock's zero points

Sherlock managed to find out that Moriarty was a mathematician thanks to the golden number on a staircase. This is his very first interaction with William.

It is therefore quite implausible that he has no points in Moriarty's test, as difficult as it is.

I could have accepted it if the author had taken the opportunity to inform the reader that Sherlock has very selective knowledge. That he has an enormous memory for what is useful to him during an investigation but that he is completely ignorant of the rest. This is what allows him to have space. He can know which locksmith in London makes what type of lock but not that the Earth revolves around the Sun.

But no, it's just a joke to humiliate Sherlock and show how much less intelligent he is than William.

Talk about a credible rivalry…

[essence-inked]

So I’ve heard a surprising amount of people respond to the genocide against Palestine with things along the lines of “Well, you have to understand that…” and then go on to explain why, according to them, Israel has experienced context that justifies their actions.

Except, there is no context that justifies genocide. There is no context that justifies bombing hospitals and homes, or killing children - or anyone, for that matter - or treating people as sub-human, or all the rest of the atrocities being committed.

I remember when this first majorly hit the news. I had one particular conversation with someone about it who was horrified at Hamas’ actions, and I pointed out to them that they couldn’t very well take issue with Hamas until they took issue with all the atrocities people in power in Israel have committed against the people in Palestine. They were quick to say that this didn’t justify Hamas’ actions, and I responded that yes, exactly. Causing harm to other people when it isn’t explicitly to defend yourself or others isn’t okay, and that is exactly why nothing justifies the genocide Israel is committing. You can’t pick and choose when to be horrified about people getting murdered or raped or blown to bits by bombs. None of that is EVER justifiable.

And just real quick? Notice that fighting back against armed soldiers sent to kill you isn't on the list of unjustifiable things. Defending yourself or others against an attacker and resisting occupation is perfectly damn justifiable, and anyone who tries to compare that to actual war crimes can go right ahead and piss off. I’ve run into people conflating Hamas committing war crimes with Palestinians generally resisting occupation, and using that to say “resistance bad,” which is some truly next level bullshit.

But the critical thing here is that this is not a conversation about Hamas. If your response to a genocide is to say “but look at those guys over there also commiitting war crimes in response to the much, much larger scale war crimes,” that is not a defense - that’s a deflection. You can’t address the result of a genocide until you address - and fully stop - the genocide itself.

One tool I’ve found recently to put this in perspective is that if you go to the wikipedia article for war crimes committed during all of this, there’s a section for Hamas, and there’s a section for Israel. Notice how long it takes to physically scroll through the section for Israel vs. how quickly it takes to scroll through the section for Hamas - that’s a pretty good example of how staggeringly unequal the scale is in this. To be absolutely clear here, war crimes are horrific regardless of who’s committing them and regardless of the scale - the thing I’m trying to say is that it’s fucking absurd to do the equivilent of point to a house on fire and say “oh no that’s terrible, someone should do something about that immediately,” and then turn and look at an entire city ablaze nearby and say “well I’m sure that’s on fire for a reason.”

This is all to say that, at least what I’ve figured out over the course of various conversations - and the thing that I’m hoping might be helpful to people trying to raise awareness - is that when you’re talking about Palestine with someone who’s pro-Israel, it’s absolutely critical to not get sidetracked. This is not about Hamas, this is not about complicated politics, this is not about context. Plain and simple, this is about genocide, and about the fact that nothing - absolutely fucking nothing - justifies that.

[masiethewriter]

Honored Eternal Path of Demise CH. 6 - Companion Quest: Part 2

"Ye-yes, we found the corpse of-"

"And you are just running around? You find a dead body, someone attacks you and you think that is the best time to wander around?" Shen Qingqiu keeps interrupting. While Ning Yingying is still wet from being outside and likely was already crying when he stumbled upon her, he still thinks he can see more tears fall from her eyes. Her body has begun to tremble and like this, she seems much smaller. Like she is just a frightened child caught in a horrible situation. 

Shen Qingqiu clears his throat in the hope that it will release the pressure in his chest.

First Chapter ~~ Previous Chapter

Immediately opening his eyes, Shen Qingqiu sits up. A hand clasps at his neck, nails digging into skin. The other grasps around the bed until he can snatch a pillow. He presses it to his face. 

In his first life he would go to internet forums and write out (constructive!) criticism when he needed release for some of his stronger emotions. Turns out screaming continuously for a minute also helps.

After that nice moment of embarrassment, he puts the pillow down and gets up. He is out of the room and on his way down the hallway in the very next moment. 

Two sessions done, a third started, infinite more to go. He can do this!

The main entrance is as impressive as always as he steps through, but for some reason he can't find it in himself to appreciate it as much anymore. As he looks down, he can’t help the way his eyes are drawn to one spot. Luo Binghe and Ning Yingying stand exactly where he expects them to. 

"Senior! You are here too?"

"Ning Yingying, you know who this is?"

"Of course! That is Shen Qingqiu. One of the seniors that helped us when we first started. Don't you remember A-Luo?"

As he steps down the stairs, he finds his hold on the railing is no longer just trailing, but a proper grip. He can't find it in himself to loosen his hold. The relief he feels as he reaches the bottom is also uncharacteristic of him. He reminds himself it is just a set of stairs.

"Senior Shen, it is so good to see you! Do you have any idea where we are? A-Luo and I woke up with no memory of how we got here. I am so lucky we found each other, I have no idea what I would do if I was all alone by myself! Have you seen anyone else, I was certain it was just me and A-Luo here, but with you it might mean that others-"

Belatedly, Shen Qingqiu realizes he needs to make her stop talking. 

"I just got here after waking up myself," he starts, but then hesitates. His voice is not as cold and arrogant as it is meant to be. He clears his throat and tries again. "I don't know anything either."

Whatever, good enough. 

He manages to get through the rest of the conversation. Ning Yingying acts exactly as he expects, but he can't help but feel Luo Binghes gaze is heavier than usual. Probably just paranoia after a particular distressing session.

"Will Senior be okay? I don't like the thought of you walking all by yourself."

"You should worry more about yourself than others. You stick with your friend and he should take care of you. This one is perfectly capable of taking care of himself."

"Be careful Senior Shen! Please don't run off all by yourself!"

They leave and Shen Qingqiu is finally alone. He lets out a heavy breath. Time to move on. 

He gets the spiritbox and returns upstairs. He feels confident in his exploration of the first five rooms, so no need to check them again. It will be nice with some alternative environments. Starting from the laboratory is not a bad place to continue his search.

With the long hallways, it takes a second to reach, so he is left to his own thoughts. Thoughts that immediately ask how the hell Ning Yingying found him that quickly! He was nowhere near the first place she found him last session, so why was she suddenly changing her route!? The Killer he could excuse with bad game mechanics. It is common that games spawn their monsters around the player to always have danger near. But Ning Yingying is not a monster! She is another character! Those rules should not apply to her!

He will have to keep an eye and ear out for her. Especially when the Killer is near. 

As he stands by the laboratory, he considers his option. His rule of right-is-always-right already broke during the first chase with the Killer, as the room is placed on the left wall. Funny how you don't think about stuff like that when running for your life. 

Rule already broken, so where to go? He might have already missed a door or two, so should he go back and check? He will admit he is already getting kind of tired of this hallway and there is still a third direction he has yet to check out, back where the hallway splits.

Okay, he can always come back later. He knows there is more stuff to explore, so he adds it to his mental to-do list. He turns back towards the way he came, and with the left wall now becoming his right, he goes back with his hand trailing the wall. 

He turns around the corner before he finds another real door. It is actually nice that the amount of locked doors has been limited. The fake doors are easy to pass when just walking around, so if they instead had been real, but locked, he would have been much more of a hassle. He can appreciate not having more of his time needlessly wasted.

The room he finds is a large living room. Multiple bookshelves line half the wall and there are a few tables clearly meant for card games and such. The furniture appears soft, with a few couches and armchairs scattered around. It seems like the kind of room that guests would gather in later in the evening. A big deep red carpet covers the floor, softening his steps as he enters. 

Only three sessions in and Shen Qingqiu can already feel he is getting drained. The excitement of exploration is much weaker after dying three horrible times (Not even counting the meat bun incident!). It is only the beginning of the game and he already wants this to be over.So he tries not to think of how little of the beginning area he has solved, so exhaustion doesn’t settle in.

He finds almost nothing of interest in the room. Some supplies that he honestly considers just leaving. They certainly haven't done him any good so far. One of the bookshelves has an interesting selection of high quality alcohol. But trying to interact with any of the bottles, it is as if they are glued to the shelf. So in the end, he can only leave.

He walks for a long time before he finds another real door. He gets back to the hallway split, finally checking the third corridor. Even then, it is first when he almost reaches the end that he finds a real door. Though when he grabs the door handle, it is locked. There is a shiny keyhole, so clearly he is meant to return here later.

Continuing from here, the next door, the one at the very end of the hallway is both real and unlocked. Opening it up, he is introduced to a larger bedroom.

At first glance, it is noticeably more luxurious than the room Shen Qingqiu keeps finding himself waking up in. Best represented by the huge balcony framed by glass doors. He is immediately distracted from checking the rest of the room, the prospect of fresh air too enticing to ignore.

Stepping outside, the wind against his face is pure relief, blowing away his aches. It is still raining, but a small roof above the balcony keeps him from getting wet. The entire balcony is made of smooth stonework, the railing carved into graceful shapes. It is a bit low, but still Shen Qingiu leans against it as he takes in deep breaths. It is bliss to feel the cooling breeze against his skin compared to the stale and dusty air of the mansion.

There is also more to see of the outside from here. A few light posts are placed in what appear to be the beginning of a garden. At the start there are mostly flowers and smaller bushes, but they grow into hedges that lead deeper behind the mansion. Shen Qingqiu can't help but look around, but sees no traces of Luo Binghe or Ning Yingying. Sadly the entrance is not visible from here. 

With nothing of use out here and lungs full of clean, nice air, he steps back inside. He feels more clear headed after that, like his batteries just got charged. He is again determined to properly investigate this mansion!

Finally taking a look around the room, he first takes note of the high quality of the double bed pushed into the corner. Mostly because it looks much comfier than his own room's bed. Not that he expects to be sleeping in any beds with all the dying and restarting that he is dealing with. 

Beside the bed is a small bookshelf. A quick look inside reveals a ripped picture of two people wearing old fashioned clothes standing together. Both of them look at something to the side with disdain, though that part is ripped off. The backside contains what he assumes is their names, which reveals they must be family.

A clear hint towards a backstory that he already knows.

The room also has a huge clock, small decorations of instruments carved into it. It is currently broken with one of the clock needles missing. Something to look out for, he supposes.

What is most noticeable is a glass container resting against the wall opposite from the bed. When Shen Quingiu looks into it, he sees a flute resting on a pillow. The light wooden material almost lighting up when contrasted to the dark fabric beneath it. He is quick to find the container is locked. With a number combination lock.

If he is wrong, it could result in a trap. But he still dares to try. 

4-8-6-2

The container clicks and Shen Qingqiu can't help but be excited as it opens. This might actually be the first puzzle he has solved since transmigrating to this game! Well, there is also the sliding puzzle for the spiritbox, but that one is so easy, so it doesn't count. This one was also quite easy, he just had to find the correct note, but still! He is actually progressing!!

Reaching inside, he picks up the flute. It is very light. He doesn't recognize the wood it is made of, but it is clearly a high quality craftsmanship. The image of a small bamboo forest is etched into the flute and Shen Qingqiu can't help but follow the pattern with the tip of his fingers. Turning it around and looking inside, he finds a piece of paper wrapped around a key. 

The other half of the picture. 

This part depicts a child. It is hard to determine his age, especially because he seems big compared to the baby fat softening his face. Looking on the backside, he confirms the child must be related to the other half’s adults.

He leaves both parts of the picture in the glass container. He is much more interested in the small key, as he already suspects where it will lead. Taking it and the flute, he is ready to abandon this room. And right as he leaves, he is surprised by two things he should not be surprised by anymore.

The spiritbox turns to life. And Ning Yingying stands right on the other side of the door. 

Before she can open her mouth, Shen Qingqiu is already dragging her inside the room. He peeks out for a second, but sees no sign of the Killer. He closes the door and quickly turns off the spiritbox. 

Turning towards Ning Yingying, she throws herself at him. 

"Senior Shen! I am so glad to see you! I was afraid something had happened to you! Luo Binghe is gone and-"

"I know. What are you doing here?"

At his cold tone, she freezes. Stepping back, her expression of relief falls into something closer to insecurity.

"Wha- What do you mean senior?"

"You-!" Shen Qingqiu is about to start, but then realizes he interrupted her too quickly. She hasn't mentioned the Killer yet and this early it doesn't make sense that he has seen him. He has to give a different explanation. "Why are you split up from Luo Binghe? You and him should have been on your way by now, so obviously something has happened."

"We got a-attacked by someone. Right after we s-saw a corpse-"

"Someone is dead!?" 

Shen Qingqiu feels bad as Ning Yingying flinches at his harsh voice. He can only mentally apologize as this is for the best for the both of them.

"Ye-yes, we found the corpse of-"

"And you are just running around? You find a dead body, someone attacks you and you think that is the best time to wander around?" Shen Qingqiu keeps interrupting. While Ning Yingying is still wet from being outside and likely was already crying when he stumbled upon her, he still thinks he can see more tears fall from her eyes. Her body has begun to tremble and like this, she seems much smaller. Like she is just a frightened child caught in a horrible situation. 

Shen Qingqiu clears his throat in the hope that it will release the pressure in his chest.

"I'm sorry," Ning Yingying says, in a voice so small it could be a whisper. "I was afraid something would happen to you."

This is too much. With a sigh, Shen Qingqiu takes off his coat and hands it to her. She hesitates, looking into his eyes to ask for permission, like he isn't already giving it to her. She sniffs as she takes it.

"I am your upper classmate. Your senior. It is not your responsibility to look after me. So it would have been better for everyone if you just had found a place to hide," he reprimands. Ning Yingying just nods, looking down at the ground. "I will go look for something that can help us. You will stay here and hide. I will come get you after I find a way out."

She doesn't answer. He forces his voice to become harder. "Do you understand?" he presses. 

She finally nods again and that is enough. So Shen Qingqiu turns and leaves her alone in the room. Right before he goes, he checks the spiritbox. The Killer is still around, but not close by. That must be good enough for now.

Back in the hallway, he goes straight for the locked door. It is the only room he knows for certain is close by and he doesn't like staying around in the open with the Killer wandering around. 

Earlier, he assumed correctly. The key fits. 

inside isn't that impressive though, as Shen Qingqiu realizes he just entered a bathroom.

It is small, with just a single toilet and sink. The humbleness of the room fits much better with Shen Qingqius' wake up room than anything else he has seen of the mansion so far. 

With the bathroom this small, there isn't a lot to search. The toilet is clean and functioning. The pipes going to the sink are slightly rusty. As he turns on the water, though, he can hear something rattle from the drain. He doesn't quite stick his finger inside, but he finds it is too deep down to reach by human hands.

After the quickest search so far he leaves. Finding Ning Yingying standing right outside the door. 

She no longer looks like a miserable drowned mouse. As she stands in his way, her eyes are full of determination. Her inner lion has broken free, a cornered beast ready to fight back.

"You know what Shen Qingqiu? I won't just hide while you go around putting yourself in danger! I'm not some little girl and I know I can help if you would just listen to me-" She starts, but before her confrontation can continue they are interrupted. 

They both hear heavy breathing. Simultaneously turning their heads, they look down the hallway. Standing closer than should be possible without being noticed is the Killer. 

He lifts his axe. 

All the bravery Ning Yingying had managed to gather evaporates like water in a desert at the sight of their doom. There is only one place they can run to with any hope of surviving. 

Crashing back into the bedroom, they both panicky look around for any place to hide. Before they can act, the door bursts open from the force of the Killer.

Ning Yingying runs out to the balcony. 

Shen Qingqiu turns around in time to see the axe swinging and this time he manages to avoid it by leaping to the side. This only gives him a second to react to the next swing, in which he falls to the ground. 

But he doesn't stay down. 

Pushing himself back up, it is pure luck that the next swing just barely misses his leg. With the wild swings, he won't be able to get around the Killer. So he throws himself outside where Ning Yingying is. 

While the balcony is big, it is not two young adults and an oversized killer big. So as Ning Yingying catches him at first, they are forced to push away from each other as the axe attempts to cleave them. Shen Qingqiu lands against the railing while Ning Yingying falls to the ground. The Killer steps out with them. After a second he decides to turn his focus to Shen Qingqiu. His target has been chosen.

The axe comes for him. First Rusty metal hits stone, the screech from the impact making their ears bleed. Second, the axe aims for his chest. The swing forces him to step back. 

There is nothing but railing behind him. A railing that is too low. 

Instead of being cornered, Shen Qingqiu finds himself losing his balance. His mind flashes back to the stairs, as his hands try to grasp at the reiling. He doesn't catch it in time. His feet don't find ground. 

He falls. 

With his back to his doom, Shen Qingqius' eyes are locked with the grinning demon above. As he falls through the air, strong winds pulling at his clothes, he sees nothing but dark empty slits. Two pools of void.

He hits the ground with a sickening crunch. 

He thought his body broken when he fell down the stairs. He was wrong. Falling from the second floor, right onto stone and concrete, there is nothing to soften his impact. Too many bones break at once. His spine. The back of his skull. His arms and legs. The skin and meat of his back splits apart from the force. Turns into mush. Blood and flesh and brain matter leaks from his body.

And during it all, Shen Qingqiu sees nothing but the black eyes of a mocking devil, its gaze heavy as it looks down at him.

The last thing he registers is light footsteps coming towards him.

[bapydemonprincess]

Imagine Grelle briefly popping in at the manor around the Book of Murder arc because of the weird wombo combo of deaths listed for that night and... wait... INCLUDING SEBASTIAN MICHAELIS??

And when she arrives she comes face to face with some charming older man named Jeremy who meets her in the rain as if he heard she was coming, and he smiles amiably with a twinkle in those eyes and tells her.

"Fear not, madam. I have it on good authority that the tangles and twists going on under this mansion roof will work themselves out post haste."

And Grelle tries to come off as unbothered, waving him off.

"Ooh, I'm sure they will, good sir. I'm sure they will. This isn't my first dive into the doom and gloom of Phantomhive Manor.."

"Then whatever could have brought you out here, then, might I ask. Surely with that fine lovely suit you're wearing, you are a busy lady, I imagine."

"W-Well, yes, normally.." Grelle cannot believe this. This classy gent is taking her for a turn! Even if... unintentionally. Almost as if it comes naturally...

"However there's a man that works in the service under the Earl here, and I... erm.. fancy him you could say, hehee.."

DID YOU JUST GIGGLE GRELLE, LIKE A LITTLE GIRL???

"Ahh," Mr. Rathbone responds... Pauses as if in thought; as if caught off guard, and then.. his visage seems to turn solemn, eyes closing, head bowing.

"This man wouldn't happen to possibly be the head butler, would he?"

Grelle flounders and merely hums her ascent, nodding. She cannot, for the death of her, get over her own current state!

"Hmph, well, I'm afraid I must inform you that.. that very man has perished this evening. After a surprise attack last night on his evening patrol, while he was stoking one of the fireplaces."

"THAT-" Grelle shouts outright at first, looking absolutely scandalized by this news, finger pointing accusingly at the Vicar.

"That... that isn't true." She goes on, voice lower, shakier, but still firm.

The man still has his eyes closed. Not budging nor flinching an inch.

"I'm afraid it is, my dear. I've seen his lifeless form with my own eyes, by now. Though I was not present at the time of his death's discovery, everyone else in this manor was, and if you wish, you yourself can slip in to ask.."

He does then open one eye, that pins the reaper in place with it's stern and serious look.

"Might I suggest in particular the other servants that served under him, for they will most definitely will have something to say, I believe, to anyone who'd object to this wretched truth they must now live with."

His other eye opens then too, and his stern look appears even sterner.. If that is possible.

"Or perhaps the boy Earl himself who now appears even younger, weaker, without that butler by his side."

Grelle still frowned, having crossed her arms tightly during his spiel, and merely stared him down.

Gone was the floundering brief glimpse of a debutante-like version of herself.

And here stood a woman with even more questions than before.

"I'll have you know, Mister Jeremy, this butler in particular that I speak of, and I know is much more formidable than you've likely imagined possible. He. Can't. Be. Dead. It's.... IT'S. JUST. NOT. POSSIBLE, do you hear me??"

And again, the man still stood perfectly in place, not even blinking before the enraged woman as she snarled her insistences through sharp gritted teeth.

"Oh yes, I can hear you quite well, my dear. But it appears to me as if there's a clear barrier between what I'm telling you and what you are hearing. And perhaps it could be the wretched weather we are currently prithee to, or perhaps it's something possibly.. unseen at work. Like a certain foolish human device in ones chest cavity shouting above my words, drowning them out. But there's unfortunately nothing I can do about that. And alas,"

He swiftly took out a pocket watch, and checked the time.

"I must leave you to return to the others. As I explained earlier I've put it upon myself to help the Earl and his remaining guests solve this case, so,"

He clapped it shut, and looked up at the reaper again.

"I wish you well, madam, and pray that if perhaps we next meet it'll be on better terms. For both our sakes."

And his smile then at her was as smooth as a pearl, eyes closed and cheery wrinkles presenting themselves even more so.

He means only the best.. A voice insisted to Grelle, and she found her muscles relaxing.

Her eyebrows remained firmly pressed down, though, her mouth a single line.

"Yes," she heard her own voice murmur over the rumble of thunder, "for both our sakes, indeed."

And she automatically turned away as the man himself turned too.

Both parties quietly trudging away from the scene.

And yet Grelle's mind spun round and round at break-neck speed.

Something was definitely up here. For there was too many peculiar things going on in this one moment alone!

This Jeremy himself. A Vicar?? At Ciel Phantomhive's place?? In the middle of this storm that had likely been going on since earlier that day.. No, even since yesterday Grelle was certain the rain had been falling.

And his stance. How he was the one to come to her in this moment. Not any other servants! He was merely visiting wasn't he?? He surely wasn't planning on staying much longer after this event!

And and and..

Grelle wanted to hold her head and curl up.

He... He was either ACTUALLY the one somehow to KILL SEBASTIAN or.... or... OR....

...........

....

.

The pocket watch.

[campgender]

So I say this with all the love and respect in my heart- I understand you feeling isolated or othered by people saying “men dni” on posts/blogs that you relate to, but fairly regularly complaining about it publicly from the standpoint of the man who is being asked to not interact, has a very “not all men” smell to it that makes it hard to like, empathize with the very real issues underneath this particular phenomenon. Also, in a very real moment of honesty, I think you know that you- tme bigender high femme fagdyke- are not the man in question that women don’t want to interact with. I don’t mean for this to come across aggressive or insincere, I just think it might be beneficial for you to reframe how you’ve been thinking about this issue, and it might help you feel less targeted by other queer people who are not trying to attack you.

wait, so i am a real man when it’s sexist of me to complain, but i’m not the real man they mean so the exclusionism i’m complaining about isn’t actually affecting me anyway? okay, got it: my gender is whatever gets me to shut up fastest.

speaking of my silence i’m very fascinated by your definition of ‘fairly regular’ since to my knowledge i’ve made 5 posts in the past 3 months that even reference this phenomenon, all of which except the ask meme response i posted yesterday are & have been unrebloggable due to my rampant fear of being accused of this very bullshit for so much as glancing in the direction of my own experiences!

if you last read those posts when they were made then it makes sense why you wouldn’t remember what i said in the longest of those, back on march 10 (link):

To Be Clear. my issue is not with people having certain boundaries, even when i disagree with the political implications! but i have had the tags “#men dni” and “#men do not interact” and “#men don’t interact” filtered for years, and i have the text “men dni” and “men do not interact” and “men don’t interact” filtered even though tumblr’s filtering system means that also blocks posts that are specifying something like “cishet men” (or even, occasionally, “i’m a man, men dni blogs don’t rb”), unnecessarily blocking posts people would’ve been fine with / happy about me engaging with, out of an abundance of goddamn fucking caution but apparently the burden remains on me to check individual bios before liking + reblogging a post every time i think the op might potentially be expecting me to self-gatekeep out of it.

but of course as you’ve so kindly pointed out the expectation to self-gatekeep is all in my head! never mind how many people reblog my femme posts with a cool url or insightful tags whose blog when i check it out specifically says something to the effect of “trans men this means you too” after their men dni policy. but since i obviously haven’t been thorough enough in my brief sporadic generally filter-tagged vent posts, let me be perfectly clear:

while i may feel a twinge of disappointment over a femme gender meme & frustration over a butch positivity post created by blogs with ‘men dni’ policies, my core issue here is blogs that self-brand as femme/queer/dyke/whatever archivists who are expecting me to gatekeep my access to my own history. that is why i started reading full texts myself & that is why i post excerpts anyone can reblog & that is why my tumblr has been left to run her queue for days at a time while i try to resolidify myself in the arguments of four decades ago instead.

so thank you for the reminder that no amount of self-censorship is enough 💖 i’ll try harder to stop playing this rigged game 💖

[dailyanarchistposts]

G.2.1 Is communist-anarchism compulsory?

Some individualist anarchists argued that communist-anarchists wanted to force everyone to be communists and, as such, this proved they were not anarchists. This objection is, ironically, both the most serious and the easiest to refute. As Tucker noted, “to eliminate the compulsory element from Communism is to remove, in the view of every man who values liberty above aught else, the chief objection to it.” [Liberty, no. 122, p. 5] For Henry Appleton, there was “a class of ranting enthusiasts who falsely call themselves Anarchists” who advocated both violence and “levelling”. “All Communism,” he asserted, “under whatever guise, is the natural enemy of Anarchism and a Communist sailing under the flag of Anarchism is as false a figure as could be invented.” Yet, ironically, A. H. Simpson disproved that particular claim for while attacking communism he ended by stating his “argument applies only to aggressive Communists” and that ”[v]oluntary Communism can exist and, if successful, flourish under Anarchy.” So, apparently, some kinds of communism are compatible with anarchism after all! Victor Yarrows, likewise, pointed to “two different schools” of communists, those who support “voluntary Communism, which they intend to reach by the Anarchistic method” and those who “plot the forcible suppression of the entire system” of private property. Only the former was “voluntary or Anarchistic Communism.” [The Individualist Anarchists, pp. 89–90, p. 94, p. 95 and p. 96]

This, it should be noted, is more than enough to disprove any claims that genuine anarchists cannot be communists.

So, the question is whether communist-anarchists are in favour of forcing people to be communists. If their communism is based on voluntary association then, according to the Individualist Anarchists themselves, it is a form of anarchism. Unsurprisingly, we discover that communist-anarchists have long argued that their communism was voluntary in nature and that working people who did not desire to be communists would be free not to be.

This position can be found in Kropotkin, from his earliest writings to his last. Thus we discover him arguing that an anarchist revolution “would take care not to touch the holding of the peasant who cultivates it himself … without wage labour. But we would expropriate all land that was not cultivated by the hands of those who at present possess the land.” This was compatible with communism because libertarian communists aimed at “the complete expropriation of all those who have the means of exploiting human beings; the return to the community of the nation of everything that in the hands of anyone can be used to exploit others.” Following Proudhon’s analysis, private property was different from individual possession and as long as “social wealth remains in the hands of the few who possess it today” there would be exploitation. Instead, the aim was to see such social wealth currently monopolised by the capitalist class “being placed, on the day of the revolution, at the free disposition of all the workers.” This would “create the situation where each person may live by working freely, without being forced to sell his work and his liberty to others.” [Words of a Rebel, p. 214, pp. 207–8, p. 207 and p. 208] If someone desired to work outside of the commune, then that was perfectly compatible with this aim.

This position was followed in later works. The “scope of Expropriation,” Kropotkin argued was clear and would only “apply to everything that enables any man — be he financier, mill-owner, or landlord — to appropriate the product of others’ toil.” Thus only those forms of property based on wage labour would be expropriated. In terms of housing, the same general rule applies (“the expropriation of dwellings contains the whole social revolution”). Kropotkin explicitly discusses the man who “by dint of privation has contrived to buy a house just large enough to hold his family. And we are going to deprive him of his hard-earned happiness, to turn him into the street! Certainly not … Let him work in his little garden, too.” Anarchist-communism “will make the lodger understand that he need not pay his former landlord any more rent. Stay where you are, but rent free.” [The Conquest of Bread, p. 61, p. 95, pp. 95–6 and p. 96]

Which, incidentally, was exactly the same position as Tucker (see section G.1.2) and so Kropotkin’s analysis of the land monopoly was identical:

“when we see a peasant who is in possession of just the amount of land he can cultivate, we do not think it reasonable to turn him off his little farm. He exploits nobody, and nobody would have the right to interfere with his work. But if he possesses under the capitalist law more than he can cultivate himself, we consider that we must not give him the right of keeping that soil for himself, leaving it uncultivated when it might be cultivated by others, or of making others cultivate it for his benefit.” [Act for Yourselves, p. 104]

For Kropotkin, communism “must be the work of all, a natural growth, a product of the constructive genius of the great mass. Communism cannot be imposed from above; it could not live even for a few months if the constant and daily co-operation of all did not uphold it. It must be free.” [Anarchism, p. 140]

Malatesta agreed. Anarchism, he stressed, “cannot be imposed, both on moral grounds in regard to freedom, as well as because it is impossible to apply ‘willy nilly’ a regime of justice for all. It cannot be imposed on a minority by a majority. Neither can it be imposed by a majority on one or more minorities.” Thus “anarchists who call themselves communists” do so “not because they wish to impose their particular way of seeing things on others” but because “they are convinced, until proved wrong, that the more human beings are joined in brotherhood, and the more closely they co-operate in their efforts for the benefit of all concerned, the greater is the well-being and freedom which each can enjoy.” Imposed communism,” he stressed, “would be the most detestable tyranny that the human mind could conceive. And free and voluntary communism is ironical if one has not the right and the possibility to live in a different regime, collectivist, mutualist, individualist — as one wishes, always on condition that there is no oppression or exploitation of others.” He agreed with Tucker that “State communism, which is authoritarian and imposed, is the most hateful tyranny that has ever afflicted, tormented and handicapped mankind.” [Errico Malatesta: His Life and Ideas, p. 21, p. 34, p. 103 and p. 34]

Therefore, arguing that the land and machinery should be common property does not preclude individuals possessing it independently of communes as both are rooted in individual possession (or “occupancy and use”) rather than private property. The key anarchist difference between property and possession explains any perceived contradiction in the communist position. Thus we find Kropotkin arguing that a communist-anarchist society is one “without having the soil, the machinery, the capital in short, in the hands of private owners. We all believe that free organisations of workers would be able to carry on production on the farm and on the factory, as well, and probably much better, than it is conducted now under the individual ownership of the capitalist.” The commune “shall take into possession of all the soil, the dwelling-houses, the manufactures, the mines and the means of communication.” [Act for Yourselves, p. 103 and p. 104]

This in no way contradicts his argument that the individuals will not be forced to join a commune. This is because the aim of anarchist-communism is, to quote another of Kropotkin’s works, to place “the product reaped or manufactured at the disposal of all, leaving to each the liberty to consume them as he pleases in his own home.” [The Place of Anarchism in the Evolution of Socialist Thought, p. 7] Thus individual ownership meant individual ownership of resources used by others rather than individual possession of resources which individuals used. This can be seen from his comment that “some poor fellow” who “has contrived to buy a house just large enough to hold his family” would not be expropriated by the commune (“by all means let him stay there”) while also asserting ”[w]ho, then, can appropriate for himself the tiniest plot of ground in such a city, without committing a flagrant injustice?” [Conquest of Bread, p. 90]

Kropotkin’s opposition to private appropriation of land can only be understood in context, namely from his discussion on the “abolition of rent” and the need for “free dwellings”, i.e. the end of landlordism. Kropotkin accepted that land could and would be occupied for personal use — after all, people need a place to live! In this he followed Proudhon, who also argued that “Land cannot be appropriated” (Chapter 3, part 1 of What is Property?). For the French anarchist, the land “is limited in amount” and so “it ought not to be appropriated” (“let any living man dare change his right of territorial possession into the right of property, and I will declare war upon him, and wage it to the death!”). This meant that “the land is indispensable to our existence, — consequently a common thing, consequently insusceptible of appropriation.” Overall, “labour has no inherent power to appropriate natural wealth.” [What is Property?, p. 106, p. 107 and p. 116] Proudhon, it is well known, supported the use of land (and other resources) for personal use. How, then, can he argue that the “land cannot be appropriated”? Is Proudhon subject to the same contradiction as Kropotkin? Of course not, once we take into account the fundamental difference between private property and possession, appropriation and use which underlies both individualist and communist anarchism. As Malatesta argued:

“Communism is a free agreement: who doesn’t accept it or maintain it remains outside of it … Everyone has the right to land, to the instruments of production and all the advantages that human beings can enjoy in the state of civilisation that humanity has reached. If someone does not want to accept a communist life and the obligations that it supposes, it is their business. They and those of a like mind will come to an agreement … [They] will have the same rights as the communists over the natural wealth and accumulated products of previous generations … I have always spoken of free agreement, of free communism. How can there be liberty without a possible alternative?” [our emphasis, At the café, pp. 69–70]

Compare this to individualist anarchist Stephen Byington’s comment that ”[t]hose who wish to unite in the communistic enjoyment of their labour will be free to do so; those who wish to hold the products of their labour as private property will be equally free to do so.” [quoted by Wm. Gary Kline, The Individualist Anarchists: A Critique of Liberalism, p. 93] The similarities are as obvious as between Proudhon’s and Kropotkin’s arguments.

The same, it must be stressed, can be said of the “Chicago Anarchists” whom Tucker labelled as authoritarians. Thus we find Albert Parsons, for example, denouncing that kind of private property which allows exploitation to happen. The key problem was that “the necessary means for the existence of all has been appropriated and monopolised by a few. The land, the implements of production and communication, the resources of life, are now held as private property, and its owners exact tribute from the propertyless” (“Wealth is power”). The aim of communist-anarchism was to ensure the ”[f]ree access to the means of production [which] is the natural right of every man able and willing to work.” This implied that ”[a]ll organisation will be voluntary with the sacred right forever reserved for each individual ‘to think and to rebel.’” This meant that as far as the “final outcome” of social change was involved “many disciples of anarchism believe [it] will be communism — the common possession of the resources of life and the productions of united labour. No anarchist is compromised by this statement, who does not reason out the future outlook in this way.” [Anarchism: Its Philosophy and Scientific Basis, p. 97, p. 99, p. 96 ,p. 174 and pp. 174–5] This did not exclude mutualism or individualist anarchism:

“Many expedients will be tried by which a just return may be awarded the worker for his exertions. The time check or labour certificate, which will be honoured at the store-houses hour for hour, will no doubt have its day. But the elaborate and complicated system of book-keeping this would necessitate, the impossibility of balancing one man’s hour against another’s with accuracy, and the difficulty in determining how much more one man owed natural resources, condition, and the studies and achievements of past generations, than did another, would, we believe, prevent this system from obtaining a thorough and permanent establishment. The mutual banking system … may be in operation in the future free society. Another system, more simple … appears the most acceptable and likely to prevail. Members of the groups … if honest producers … will be honoured in any other group they may visit, and given whatever is necessary for their welfare and comfort.” [Op. Cit., p. 175]

As we discuss in section G.4, this was the same conclusion that Voltairine de Cleyre reached three decades later. This was rooted in a similar analysis of property as Proudhon and Tucker, namely “possession” or “occupancy and use”: “The workshops will drop into the hands of the workers, the mines will fall to the miners, and the land and all other things will be controlled by those who posses and use them. There will be, there can then be no title to anything aside from its possession and use.” The likes of Parsons supported communism was not because of an opposition between “communism” and “occupancy and use” but rather, like Kropotkin, because of “the utter impossibility of awarding to each an exact return for the amount of labour performed will render absolute communism a necessity sooner or later.” [Op. Cit., p. 105 and p. 176] So while capitalism “expropriates the masses for the benefit of the privileged class … socialism teaches how all may possess property … [and] establish a universal system of co-operation, and to render accessible to each and every member of the human family the achievements and benefits of civilisation which, under capitalism, are being monopolised by a privileged class.” [August Spies, contained in Parsons, Op. Cit., pp. 63–4]

All of which indicates that Tucker did not really understand communist-anarchism when he argued that communism is “the force which compels the labourer to pool his product with the products of all and forbids him to sell his labour or his products.” [Instead of a Book, p. 400] Rather, communist-anarchists argue that communism must be free and voluntary. In other words, a communist-anarchist society would not “forbid” anything as those who are part of it must be in favour of communism for it to work. The option of remaining outside the communist-anarchist society is there, as (to requote Kropotkin) expropriation would “apply to everything that enables any man [or woman] … to appropriate the product of others’ toil.” [The Conquest of Bread, p. 61] Thus communist-anarchism would “forbid” exactly what Individualist Anarchism would “forbid” — property, not possession (i.e. any form of “ownership” not based on “occupancy and use”).

Tucker, at times, admits that this is the case. For example, he once noted that “Kropotkin says, it is true, that he would allow the individual access to the land; but he proposes to strip him of capital entirely, and as he declares a few pages further on that without capital agriculture is impossible, it follows that such access is an empty privilege not at all equivalent to the liberty of individual production.” [quoted by George Woodcock and Ivan Avakumovic, The Anarchist Prince, p. 279] However, as two biographers of Kropotkin note, Tucker “partly misinterprets his opponent, as when he suggests that the latter’s idea of communist anarchism would prevent the individual from working on his own if he wished (a fact which Kropotkin always explicitly denied, since the basis of his theory was the voluntary principle).” [Woodcock and Avakumovic, Op. Cit., p. 280] To quote Kropotkin himself:

“when we see a Sheffield cutler, or a Leeds clothier working with their own tools or handloom, we see no use in taking the tools or the handloom to give to another worker. The clothier or cutler exploit nobody. But when we see a factory whose owners claim to keep to themselves the instruments of labour used by 1,400 girls, and consequently exact from the labour of these girls … profit … we consider that the people … are fully entitled to take possession of that factory and to let the girls produce … for themselves and the rest of the community .. . and take what they need of house room, food and clothing in return.” [Act for Yourselves, p. 105]

So Kropotkin argued that a communist-anarchist revolution would not expropriate the tools of self-employed workers who exploited no-one. Malatesta also argued that in an anarchist society “the peasant [is free] to cultivate his piece of land, alone if he wishes; free is the shoe maker to remain at his last or the blacksmith in his small forge.” Thus these two very famous communist-anarchists also supported “property” but they are recognised as obviously socialists. This apparent contradiction is resolved when it is understood that for communist-anarchists (like all anarchists) the abolition of property does not mean the end of possession and so “would not harm the independent worker whose real title is possession and the work done” unlike capitalist property. [Malatesta, Op. Cit., p. 103] Compare this with Yarros’ comment that ”[s]mall owners would not suffer from the application of the ‘personal use’ principle, while large owners, who have come into possession of the landed property, or the capital with which they purchased the landed property, by means that equal liberty could not sanction, would have no principle to base any protest on.” [Liberty, no. 197, p. 2] In other words, all anarchists (as we argue in section B.3) oppose private property but support possession (we return to this issue in section I.6.2 as it is an all too common fallacy).

[k8aclysm]

I'm mad about Jynx again (The Pokémon)

Okay so most people who have even been residually exposed to the Pokémon franchise are familiar with Jynx, the Psychic/Ice type Pokémon introduced in the first generation. Either for the controversies early on, or just because it's a good example of a strange looking design. Due to the reasons I just stated, and/or due to the fact that it's an ice type - a type typically seldom seen until very late game in most entries - I'm willing to bet most of you have never bothered to use one, either. To be fair to it, It's no as awful as it looks! It's got paper-thin physical defense, but decent speed and pretty good special attack that pair perfectly with it's typing! It's an interesting pick if you're looking for a run with mons you've never used before... But this isn't a post about convincing you to use Jynx, I'm here to rant about an aspect of it's design that has driven me completely fucking nuts for the past decade or more.

Looking at the sprites for Jynx in the first three generations, everything looks as you'd expect. Exactly how it looks in the anime, as well as in the manga and other spinoff media.

The problem begins to show itself when we reach the sprites from generation 4.

You see that? You see those strange.... tendrils coming off the dress? Just below the arms? If you wanted to argue in good faith, you could say that this is simply a sprite that poorly communicates depth in the skirt... But then we arrive at generation 5 - where the sprites now have animations and more inherent depth. Generation 5 is where many believe gamefreak had mastered the spriting game and are considered the final sendoff for the sprite style in the franchise.

It's those GOD DAMN TENDRILS. This time, it's very clear that they're not just miscommunicated depth on the skirt and are now actual, un-questionably, tendrils of some sort that jut out of the skirt or create some sort of odd "spike". This sprite is what I consider to be the beginning of what I like to call the "Jynx miscommunication", where -someone, somewhere down the production line - completely misunderstood the sprite and somehow managed to canonize one of the most bizarre design choices I've ever seen. Yeah, I said "Canonize", and I'm not joking. Because it actually happened. Every appearance of Jynx in the 3d games have featured this interpretation of Jynx's dress. ALL OF THEM. Here's an example; pictured below is the model rip from generation 6 and 7; the 3DS games.

Somehow it's become even MORE spikey; as if it's body underneath the skirt has MASSIVE spikes jutting out on each side; the dress isn't draped over it like something implied to be cloth-like in behavior should; it almost reminds me of what the barbs on Corsola look like.

Anyway, my point is mostly made now, but just to drive it home once more... To really just illustrate how deeply ingrained this design "choice" is... I need to explain that every Pokemon in existence was given brand new artwork for the Pokemon transfer service - Pokemon Home. In pretty much every medium outside of the games, Jynx was never depicted to have these weird spikes, so surely they'd refer to previous artwork of Jynx when making the illustration for it in pokemon home, right...? RIGHT...?

WRONG. Jynx officially has the spikes in it's most recent artwork, it's models, AND it's Gen 4 remake menu "sprite". The most infuriating part about this for me, though is that the Sword/Shield menu sprite Doesn't include the spikes at all. Like holy shit it's model in sword and shield even HAVE the spikes like all the others do! RAAAAAHGHGHGnfjnv....

This situation is just so uniquely fascinating to me because Pokemon is a franchise that - at least contemporarily - is known for it's extremely particular design guidelines and squeaky clean, on-model consistency when it comes to the Pokémon designs. I refuse to believe this was ever an intended design choice for Jynx and that gamefreak just don't think anyone gives enough of a fuck about Jynx to ever notice this. Hell, maybe they didn't notice it themselves. Why this happened is likely never going to be brought to light, but at the very least, Jynx isn't in gen 9 so I don't have to look at it at all! ... for now...

Anyway, I hope this post has enlightened you and made you privy to something that makes an already unpopular Pokémon even more unpopular. I'm usually never one to make elaborate posts like this but this piece of bizarre trivia pisses me off so much I just HAD to make a post about it. Send all of your complaints to gamefreak, thanks.

[merge-conflict]

give me violence pls and ty; 6, 7, 19 & 20

questions here ty for the ask I love people immediately came into my inbox to ask me to complain about canon y'all know me so well

6. which ship fans are the most annoying?

I'm not really annoyed by any particular ship, more so people who complain about other shippers not doing it right- and specifically if they put it in the character tags.

also anyone who has gone through silverv tags and forced me to add a nonbinary tag to my stuff because they a) assume that she/her pronouns mean a woman and b) are apparently obliged by their tagging system to distinguish between female and male v. c'mon man. it's only happened twice but that was enough.

7. what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how how the fandom acts about them?

idk about *hate* exactly but Rogue, I guess? she so often seems to be either a mommy character to people's v's or people talk about how tragic she is for liking johnny, which I don't understand. she doesn't seem to be very nurturing and it's pretty clear she's got a soft spot for johnny but given she's lived to be 90 doing merc work I think she can take care of and make decisions for herself that are "bad" without being pitied for it? it's not like johnny is manipulating her. he asks and she says yes even though she's dumped him to the curb and could easily walk away or refuse. anyway I don't hate rogue, I just don't see a lot of her, and the characterization I do see I'm lukewarm on.

19. you're mad/ashamed/horrified you actually kind of like...

I had the usual cyberpunk experience of wanting to stick Johnny's head in the toilet and then he grew on me, so now every time I see him I still want to physically fight him but like in an affectionate way. So embarrassing.

Also: Smasher?? Like he still terrifies me, but what a character! He's a brain in a tin can and all he wants to do is perform violence, and unlike most of the other lore in game (cyberware will make you crazy!!) he's been Like That since he was 100% organic. There's just something wrong with him that makes him immune to bodily concerns and Arasaka keeps him like a literal attack dog they can use to scare people. He has such a clarity of purpose. He has a body that looks like Elvis. He used to talk in a southern accent. I think he should live forever.

20. part of canon you found tedious or boring

there are lots of AIs that are all FERAL and EVIL in the cage and they're going to come get you. now hold on while we act out the TCP handshake in 3D with visuals that make your eyes hurt that apparently people are working in all day because abstractions make tech COOL and ENGAGING. we have the tech to mess with people's memories and upload their souls but these AIs are ALL POWERFUL and in fifty years we haven't found the servers they're squatting on. the only one you can make contact with used to be HUMAN but all the rest are definitely BAD and MAD and INSANE. also they can insta-kill people or possess killer robots. this fits perfectly in the cyberpunk theme of um uh. technology has gone too far? people are at their fucking limit?

I forget exactly what scifi writer talked about it and it's impossible to google "AI anxiety" in tyool 2024 and get anything but people concerned ChatGPT is sentient, but there's this idea that the scifi story anxiety about AI rebellions or robots killing all humans is basically repackaged anxiety that people who have been stepped on or used or enslaved are going to suddenly fight back and kill everyone is not a new one. It's just "ah the oppressed are dangerous because some day they will want revenge". These AIs are super smart and powerful but they're not going to have the sentience to recognize allies? They just kill indiscriminately? They're no better than monsters? Alright. Maybe the sequel will surprise me and get into some nuance but I'm distrustful by nature.

[armulyn]

Wisdom to the Wise

The Wingfeather family’s possession of a collection of First Books is not exactly a secret, though few are the commoners who can claim knowledge of it.

They traditionally belong to the Throne Warden, and are kept in his keeping, and the scholars know that. One of the Throne Warden’s traditional titles after all is Keeper of Wisdom, whatever that means, and while most citizens of Anniera think it more metaphorical than literal, there are others who can correct them.

There are five of them, ranging from as thick and heavy as a small boulder to what is little more than a pamphlet the size of his hand. Very few in Anniera or beyond know that, save perhaps the most dedicated and lucky of scholars. 

Finally, there are a grand total of sixteen pages among the lot that he can read.

Though about seven people alive currently know that, Esben feels he knows it the best, flipping through aged pages with boredom and growing frustration. The strangely shaped, handwritten letters taunt him with their loops and bold strokes, some written hastily, slanted and sloppy, and others firmly, whether in triumph or emphasis no one will ever know. Whoever has put pen to the ancient paper has done so in a language none now speak— or, more’s the pity, read.

He has never been as dedicated to reading as Artham, or as relentless in pursuit of knowledge, but Esben has also never liked being told he can’t know something, and so he glares at the pages as if they can be cowed into divulging their secrets.

“Well?” he says aloud, “What am I supposed to learn from a collection of shapes?”

He isn’t talking to anyone in particular, save perhaps his subconscious, but nonetheless a voice answers from behind him. 

“Perhaps I could be of more aid if I knew what you are doing?”

Esben jumps, nearly knocking the ancient tome right off the end of the ancient desk— an impressive feat, as it’s the boulder book— before a hand shoots forward and rescues it.

“Why didn’t you knock?” he demands breathlessly of his brother, brushing himself off and pretending he hadn’t nearly gotten a heart attack. Artham looks at him as if he’s being exceptionally stupid, which is neither fair nor warranted in Esben’s opinion.

“I don’t usually knock when I expect a room to be empty,” he says, then glances around, “...Especially when it’s my room. So! Besides endangering priceless, helpless, and perfectly innocent books, what are you trying to do?”

“This book.” Artham returns the boulder book safely to his desk, but Esben gestures instead to the one beside it. It is of average size and weight for a book, but its ancient leather binding and yellowed pages mark it apart from the many volumes that can be found in Rysen’s library.

“...What about the book?”

“I don’t know! They’re all equally incomprehensible but it’s that one that annoys me the most. I don’t know why, but it won’t leave me alone.”

Artham picks up the book in question, handling the tome with far more care and expertise than Esben had bothered with. He flips idly through the pages, and Esben doesn’t have to crane his neck to know what his brother sees. Unidentifiable letter after unidentifiable letter.

“This is considered to be one of the oldest of them,” Artham says, “If indeed the ages vary. Aunt Illia told me it’s said to give ‘wisdom to the wise.’”

“How can a book be said to give people wisdom when nobody can read it?” 

“No idea, that’s just what Aunt Illia told me. I don’t think she knew what it means either. It’s pretty clear that it only gives people wisdom who already have it, though, so you might be out of luck on that end.”

“You’re hilarious.”

Artham grins at him, but then returns his attention to the infuriating book at hand. He flips to the first page, upon which is a single line of text across the paper. What it says, only the wind and stars know, Esben thinks irritably.

“Well, maybe we’ll never know what’s in it. It’s not like you need to know everything about everything in order to live, Esben.”

Like most things out of Artham’s mouth, it sounds smart and also vaguely profound. Not for the first time in his life, Esben laments his brother’s hobby as a poet.

“Philosophy is all well and good, but a linguist would honestly be more helpful here.”

“I know plenty of languages, I’ll have you know. Hollish, for example, and Shreven, and—”

“I don’t suppose this one happens to be among them?”

Artham squints closer at the text, then shrugs, “I know plenty of languages that people actually speak.”

“Well, that’s no good.”

Artham rolls his eyes at Esben, an extremely undignified action that little enhances his brother’s reputation as a dashing Throne Warden. The vaguely dirt-stained clothing and windblown hair don’t help either— he must have been outside.

“Well, I’m not certain how to help you on this front, little brother,” Artham says, “but you’re doing little good glaring a pile of pages into submission. Nia was looking for you a few minutes ago though, in the front garden.”

Esben rises from the chair eagerly, glad to leave the circling uselessness of staring in incomprehension at dusty pages. All the same, he pauses at the door, a strange feeling of failure sweeping over him. There’s something in that book, he knows it. And he means to find out what.

“...Now that I think about it, isn’t that the book that’s used for the kings’ annals, too?” Artham asks, following him out. Esben nods glumly.

“Aye, and those at least are in Common. I’ve been through those same sixteen pages sixteen times but whatever I’m looking for isn’t there. That book may or may not have wisdom but either way it’s doing a terrible job at imparting it.”

“Maybe if I hit you over the head with it—”

“Please don’t.”

[despairforme]

Please please please could you tell us about OP verse with Nnoi?))) It seems so cool but I can find only treads and not some... lore? specifically about your muse

[ ;O; // OH thank you very much for taking interest in Nnoitra's One Piece verse! Fun fact is that this blog was originally made with only an OP verse, because that was the fandom I used to write in (my first rp blogs were OP blogs). I'm sorry I haven't made his verse info more accessible! :O I'll make it accessible on mobile when I have time. All verse info can be viewed on my blog (desktop only), on the "About/Verses" star. Nnoitra's OP verse is called BLOOD & THE MOON.

Here is the lore/backstory for his verse! -

Nnoitra was born on a desert-island in South Blue. His hometown was very small one, the kind where everyone knows everyone. He lived there with his parents, and his older brother, Shinji.

This particular island had a reputation of producing strong fighters, who often turned out to be either marines, pirates, bounty-hunters or warriors.

Already as a child, it was clear that Nnoitra had a talent far exceeding anyone else’s. He towered over the other children with more than a head, and even his older brother was shorter than him.

At fourteen, nobody could beat him at anything.

This didn’t make him happy, on the contrary. He wanted to become stronger and stronger, until his name reached the heavens. But nobody on the island could teach him anything more than what he already knew. So, how was he to improve?

For a couple of years, Nnoitra walked around with the thought of leaving his home town. But he did love his parents and his brother, and if possible, he would like to stay with them.

It was around this time that the marines began to see an interest in Nnoitra. Even though he was just a young teenager, they thought he had potential. Since this island often bred good marines, it was only natural that they kept an eye out.

Late one night, a wounded sorcerer arrived at the island. The townsfolk thought he was just a silly old man who could do some magic-tricks, and Nnoitra would’ve thought so too, if the man hadn’t asked him: “Do you want to become stronger?” Of course, Nnoitra’s answer to this was “Yes!”.

And so, the old man sat up a campfire a little out of town, and brought Nnoitra there. This was where Nnoitra traded part of his soul for powers. Nnoitra felt a sharp pain in his head, and a cold sensation, like half his head was filled with snow.

Trading part of his soul allowed Nnoitra to gain physical abilities way beyond his dreams. He was now able to use Rokushiki perfectly. The most special ability he gained was his Tekkai, because he doesn’t need to stand still to use it.

Who did he trade his soul with? He traded them with the god of Despair. So, he gained physical abilities, and had to give up a part of his soul, and his left eye. After this, he had a hole in his head, which he was quick to hide with the big eyepatch he currently wears.

What Nnoitra didn’t know, was that this old sorcerer was in fact a wanted man, who had been hunted by the marines for decades. And they caught on to him. Soon, battleships were closing in on the little island. The people in the village quickly figured out that the sudden attack on their island had to be connected to the mysterious, old man showing up. And they wanted to give him up to the marines. But Nnoitra refused, of course he did. This man had allowed him to grow even stronger, and turning him in to the government was something only a coward would do. He had a big fight with his parents and brother, and the rest of the town about this matter.

In the end, he decided to try and help the sorcerer off the island. He left the village, and together with the old man, they headed to the other side of the island to find a boat. He did manage to send him off, and he has never seen him since.

When he returned to the village, everything was chaos. All the houses burnt down, and everyone. Everyone was dead. He dug the bullets out of his brother’s body, but it was too late.

Of course, Nnoitra blamed himself for this, why wouldn’t he? And truly, it was his fault, though, he didn’t know that. For the first time in his life, he wanted to die.

What he didn’t know, was that this was a gift to him. A gift from the God of Despair. Since he lacked part of his soul, the God thought it only proper that it should be replaced with Despair. Even today, Nnoitra has not gotten rid of the Despair he felt that day.

Nnoitra has learned to live with Despair, and it has become an important part of him.

Nnoitra didn’t kill himself that day, but he was stuck with a deathwish. Deep down, Nnoitra still wants to die.

He left the island shortly after everyone was dead, and he headed straight for the Grand Line. He did what he had to survive. But, during his travels, his heart grew heavy, and the guild tried to eat him up.

On a desert island, which reminded him very much of his home, he decided to end it. He picked up his knife (at that time was always carrying a knife and a sword), and placed it over his heart. As the blade pierced his skin, it disappeared, and a person appeared in front of him. The person looked to be made out of pure darkness. He couldn’t tell if it was male or female, human or not. It didn’t say anything, it just dragged Nnoitra forcefully to his feet, and put its hand on his bleeding chest, stopping the blood. And then, it turned into a huge weapon. The Santa Teresa he carries around today.

That was the first and final time Nnoitra tried to kill himself. He didn’t want that kind of pathetic death. He didn’t want to die by his own hand. No. A strong fighter like himself should die in a battle. He should fight ‘til the death. That was how he wanted his life to end, and it still is. For years, Nnoitra travelled the Grand Line, and mostly specialised in bounty hunting, but he soon grew bored with that.

After having seen a lot of the world, he was convinced that the strongest people were pirates, and so, he wished to become one himself. He is now on the lookout for a strong crew he can join, so that he might enjoy tougher battles, and finally... Find someone stronger than him, who can end it all. ]

[santaclausdeadindian]

Ah, a communist, charming...

uhm...

"boycott china in general"

that is your gotcha, me being hypocritical, lol?

btw, if you would scour my posts a little harder, you probably could find me doing that in a post or two

you might be surprised by this, I have seen people here having problem with the concept of a linear timeline and people changing opinions and attitudes about stuff they learn more about or getting exposed to

in short, while I always saw those three as great evils, their rankings have shifted in the last few years

I was not crying crocodile tears over the genocide, nor do I question it, I merely pointed out to commies like you that it is indeed happening.

I do not care at all, anymore.

In fact, I rank communism as a lesser evil now, not that its less evil, mostly on account that it will inevitably collapse anyway, while islam as the most successful death-cult in history, seems to be the greatest threat to everything else. Communism will not last in china forever, one day they will overthrow the regime or it will collapse under its own weight. In the long run, they will be fine.

You do have a point technically, in those two example you brought up, Sudan is mostly muslim against black muslim, yes, should have put it that way, but they do genocide the very few remaining christians, but sure, that is more on a racial level, because, surprise, islam is also racist as shit, and the arabs in particular are extremely racist, like hold my beer china racist. So I was inaccurate about the primary target of the muslims who are committing the genocide. As per usual.

On the other hand, the ethiopian conflict (I mean this latest one) is against the tigray people to my knowledge and those are christian while the PM is called Abiy Ahmed and is an Oromo, who are muslim majority... I did turn out to be wrong, he is pentecostal, so this one can go to you, I suppose, not that it really make a dent in my overall point that

islam is genocidal, always have been and always will be.

And I have no problem saying that India is doing the same (actually, they do not to the same degree, but are on the trajectory).

So what? Hinduism is also horrid, but unlike the aforementioned evil ideologies, they never really bothered anyone, other than their fellow indians with it. Like literally, India is the one civilization that just sat on their asses for millennia, did they ever went forth to conquer? Not to my knowledge.

They also tend to integrate reasonably well into western societies and apart from some mildly annoying to gross stuff they do on occasion, they pose no problem in my experience. The other three are outright in opposition with it.

So in short, you made no point with this.

And to the final point in this Gaza nonsense. It is not a genocide.

They send texts to every phone in the areas they are about to attack. How the fuck is it their fault that Hamas uses meat shield tactics? Also, why the fuck would I take Hamas by its word? I do acknowledge, that Israel does a lot of evil shit. Happy?

To be perfectly honest, I do think judaism is also has a shitton of fucked up and evil shit in it. There is also like what, 20 million of them? yeah, they do have a ridiculously oversized influence and yes it is a huge problem, but not on the same scale and they also tend to be problems that can be solved legislatively, even if it is hard, because of the aforementioned influence and I do kinda had the notion lately that at least some jews are very much fine with flooding Europe with the dregs of the shittiest societies available, but knowing full well that it is gonna be biting them in the ass, hell, it already does, I just dont see that as anything else, than the usual brain melt that has been plaguing the west.

hope this cleared it up for you, buddy

AHEAD OF THE United Nations Security Council action to consider the Palestinian Authority’s application to become a full member of the international body, the United States is lobbying nations to reject such membership, hoping to avoid an overt “veto” by Washington. The lobbying effort, revealed in copies of unclassified State Department cables obtained by The Intercept, is at odds with the Biden administration’s pledge to fully support a two-state solution. In 2012, the U.N. General Assembly passed a resolution granting Palestine the status of a non-member observer state. The diplomatic cables detail pressure being applied to members of the Security Council, including Malta, the rotating president of the council this month. Ecuador in particular is being asked to lobby Malta and other nations, including France, to oppose U.N. recognition. The State Department’s justification is that normalizing relations between Israel and Arab states is the fastest and most effective way to achieve an enduring and productive statehood. While clarifying that President Joe Biden has worked vigorously to support “Palestinian aspirations for statehood” within the context “of a comprehensive peace that would resolve the Israeli-Palestinian conflict,” a diplomatic cable dated April 12 details U.S. talking points against a U.N. vote for Palestinian statehood. The cable says that Security Council members must be persuaded to reject any proposal for Palestinian statehood — and thereby its recognition as a sovereign nation — before the council’s open debate on the Middle East, scheduled for April 18. “It remains the U.S. view that the most expeditious path toward a political horizon for the Palestinian people is in the context of a normalization agreement between Israel and its neighbors,” the cable reads. “We believe this approach can tangibly advance Palestinian goals in a meaningful and enduring way.” “We therefore urge you not to support any potential Security Council resolution recommending the admission of ‘Palestine’ as a U.N. member state, should such a resolution be presented to the Security Council for a decision in the coming days and weeks.”