#you're too valuable

[animezinglife]

I didn't realize Bianca was married. I thought it was your average situationship.

Dammit, Varric. 🤦🏼‍♀️

[corviiids]

i think ive been so enamoured with tragedy and unhappy endings recently because it's so common for us to take comfort in the idea that we're okay because we will be okay, you know, the whole "it'll be okay in the end and if it's not okay it's not the end" type thing, this desire to put our faith in things turning out eventually, and that's why people sometimes get upset if something doesn't have a happy ending that gives them closure. but i honestly think there's something equally or even more comforting in having to cope with the fact that in reality the happy ending can't always be counted on. in trying to accept that fact, you're sort of forced to find your comfort and meaning elsewhere, which is what tragedy is asking you to do. if you know a story is going to end badly, can you still invest in it? can you survive it for as long as you're asked to? because then you have to concede that the things that happen and the lessons you learn during the story still are meaningful and fulfilling even if they don't culminate. if the story is unfinished and the threads are loose and you don't get closure, can you still find a way to let this frustrating and unfinished experience mean something to you? you kind of have to. can you be okay with it if you aren't able to believe that things will be okay in the end? without looking forward, can you be okay right now

[xoxoemynn]

I spent the night catching up on reading some fic after taking a bit of a breather to focus on writing and omg, it felt SO GOOD. The amount of TALENT in this fandom is unreal. Un. Real. For the past few hours I've been immersed in so many different worlds featuring my favorite characters and it was BREATHTAKING.

And now I'm sitting here thinking about how much fun that was and how I need to do that more often because oh my god the EXHILARATION truly I am just LIVING right now. I felt SO MANY EMOTIONS and I didn't even leave my couch?!

And it's so cool because I was reading one fic and losing my mind over it and mid-way through I went "wow, I want to write a fic Like That." Because it stirred a kind of emotion in me and I'd love to stir that kind of emotion in others and it's got my brain buzzing in a new way I doubt it would have buzzed on its own had I not read that fic and it's just SO. COOL. how creativity begets more creativity and how we all inspire each other.

And it's all because we found This Show and loved it and couldn't let it go, and there are still countless stories to be told and universes to play in and it's SO EXCITING and I love you all and I'm so grateful.

Thank you for sharing your love for OFMD however you share it, thank you for your fic and your art and your text posts and your tags and your comments.

Thank you for being here. 💕

[mcflymemes]

you cannot blame other people for your own inaction. you cannot complain on the dash about not having any interactions or threads when you've never replied to all the plotting messages, starters, or ask memes waiting for you in your inbox. i understand that the social aspect of rp can be paralyzing for many, and of course our lives irl take high precedent in terms of priority, so please don't mistake this as a demand for constant replies or a constant presence on the dash (that would be utterly unhealthy and completely unfair to expect from anyone; that's not at all what i'm talking about here).

instead, i'm talking about the times you are online and are here to write and have fun, and the times you are looking for new plots, new threads, and new dynamics. if other people have made contact, sent memes, wrote you starters, and all of these means of communication have gone unanswered... how can you grumble and moan on the dash about not having any interactions? reply to those ask memes. answer those plotting IMs. post a starter call. reblog memes. hunt for that old starter someone wrote you weeks ago and finally reply. if this is your hobby, and you want to have fun writing with other people, you can't let them do all the work. you need to contribute. you need to put in some effort, and the fun will follow.

[hajihiko]

every time I come across Content that isnt my own I get the thoughts and thinks. Too tired to do anything about it except this ig

[cxpperhead]

When stealing things for his employers, it's not unknown for Copperhead to simply swallow them, especially if they are valuables like gemstones. It's easier and more convenient to carry them this way than waste time stuffing them into a bag that's likely to get snagged on something or get snatched away by a pesky vigilante.

[wahoopli]

drop the sanderson thoughts lmao. did you read the wired article everyone’s talking about?

yes i did read the wired article. it was weird? fine? i agree with the take that the writer thought it would be more interesting, and then had to come up with a story on a deadline.

tbh i feel like the more interesting story is that mormonism is a settler colonialist monument to white cisheteropatriarchy, and that really shows in sanderson's writing. stormlight especially really demonstrates this. it's structured to be all about oppression (darkeyes, the singers) but sanderson's narrative continually prioritizes the oppressors. that's so mormon! the book of mormon is so racist and present-day mormonism is so invested in whiteness and imperialism, esp with sending missionaries to convert people of color in the global south.

and like... we talk all the time about how sanderson is great at writing queer characters when he's not trying to. how his romances really fall flat. to me it's all connected to mormonism. he's talked before about how he doesn't really have emotional ups and downs, and the article kind of touches on this too. mormonism is such a passion-less religion. if you've ever been in a mormon church building, they're the most boring buildings alive. there's a complete lack of culture, art, life. mormonism is designed to produce nuclear family clones who have the same opinions and have a very "nice" society.

i'm rambling, and i have lots more thoughts, but i just think the way sanderson writes romance really positions it as a Thing You Put In A Narrative and not, like, a messy human experience. and that's so mormon. you serve a mission for the church as a late teen and then come back and are expected to marry. marriage is one of the essential Steps toward exaltation.

obviously the other really interesting thing is that the magic of the cosmere tbh is extremely mormon in a way I find very interesting and sometimes like! one of the key doctrines of mormonism is that if you live your life perfectly, you'll become a god and create your own worlds the same way god did with us. it's a complicated and fascinating idea, and i don't think it's terribly difficult to make the connection to whiteness and the settler fantasy of it all. but in the cosmere, humans become gods. gods are bound by rules (also important in mormon theology). ruin and preservation created scadrial and built it and humans from scratch.

idk i just feel like if you've read sanderson's work (which the wired writer says he did) and have a solid understanding of mormonism, there's a much richer and more interesting story to tell than what that article gave. it barely scratched the surface imo.

disclaimer, i say all this as a white queer exmormon who has lived in utah her whole life. i love lots of things about mormonism, and i can't separate my personal and family history from the church. it's defined my life up until the last couple of years, and that's the place i'm speaking from.

[chernabogs]

Saw some people talking abt how the thorns around Malleus in the c7 promo look like a cage and it reminded me of the Nightingale fairy tale where a caged automaton replaces the real nightingale after being taught to mimic its song, driving the nightingale away until its needed to ward off death, and anyway. I love making parallels that might not exist but do in my mind LMAO

[maybebabyplease]

on ‘professional jealousy’ in your not-so-professional hobbies

really great essay here about professional jealousy, something i think about a lot with my fiction writing. most of my real-life fiction writing friends are older and more talented and more published than me, and sometimes it really stings to see them succeed in a way that i want to succeed, even when i know they deserve it and want to spend all my energy being happy for them. this feeling can bleed into your friendships and relationships, but i think it’s something everyone experiences. and thus, we ought to talk about it! 

in fanfic, as in original fiction, you’re putting a piece of yourself out into the world to be judged (conversations on the validity of fanfic criticism/rating/ranking aside, the reality is that people will continue to do it either way) and the reactions to your work are likely to be different than the reactions to your friends’ and peers’ work. the subject of ‘professional jealousy’, or as the essay deems it, disappointment, applies here just as much as it does to original fiction.

i find that i see a lot of posts about fanfic that imply that it’s somehow ‘bad’ to care about the success of your fic, defining success as the number of hits or kudos or comments or whatever digit puts you ahead of someone else. certainly, there are many reasons to write fanfiction. but i consider it to be a little disingenuous to act like no one cares (or is allowed to care) about whether or not people read their fic. 

to me, storytelling is at its core a search for human connection. fanfiction seeks this same thing, this connection with readers and other writers, and perhaps with more intensity. we are obsessed with these characters, and these stories, and these tropes. we want to find other people who share our obsessions. we want to connect. i think this is clear in the tags people continually search on ao3, in the ask boxes of tumblr users who like to discuss headcanons and hot takes, on the works pages of writers who create for their one favorite ship over and over again. it’s a really gorgeous thing, the way we all love what we do, and the way we love it together.

it’s natural to want to connect over your stories. you’d be hard-pressed to find someone who doesn’t get a little thrill at that email notification from ao3, letting you know that someone laughed or cried or screamed over something you created. it’s normal to appreciate this feeling and it’s normal to want more of it. i do personally find that the best and most satisfying fanfiction is the fic you write for yourself, but i have also found great joy in the two or three comments on the fics i thought no one would read, because it’s so special to find people who enjoy the specific things you enjoy. i’m not necessarily unhappy with lesser-read fics of mine; i love them all equally and i’m proud of each one. but i can’t sit here and say that i wouldn’t be thrilled if more people found them and loved them and left comments about a particular trope i love or a joke i thought i was so funny for writing. humans are an inherently social species, and those moments of connection are valuable even when you’re doing something just for yourself.

you can write for yourself and still want people to read it. you can write for yourself and still be disappointed when your fic doesn’t do as well as someone else’s, or even as well as one of your own previous fics. you can be happy with what you’ve written, and still wish it was as ‘popular’ as another fic you love. i think we need to create space for this particular disappointment, because people will continue to feel this way about their work. and i’m not saying we all ought to go screaming about it on our blogs, as that seems to lead to people tearing down other more popular works, which is not the intention of opening this discussion.

the essay suggests having a friend with whom you can express disappointment and know you’ll get an appropriate reaction. luckily, fanfiction has (at least in my experience) led to an incredible community of kind, empathetic people who likely share your exact interests. so this advice works perfectly in the land of fic. perhaps you have a friend who writes for a different ship than you, or even a different fandom altogether. perhaps you have a friend who writes the exact same types of stories of you, but who particularly understands the way you feel. or, perhaps you have a friend who doesn’t read fic at all who can be a totally unbiased sounding board. 

no matter what, don’t be afraid to share your disappointment! it’s not something that has to be shameful. you can write fanfic for all the ‘right’ reasons and still get disappointed. you’re only human.

(i’d love to have conversations about this -- i know lots of people that i like and respect have different opinions about ‘success’ in the world of fanfic and comparing yourself to ‘more popular’ writers and the tiktokification of fic, which i do feel like relates here but did not want to get into. hit the comments on this post or my dms or whatever! i love to DISCUSS!) (essay linked again here for viz)

[ziracona]

I return! Intro to The Kid Act II. As always, tumblr gets it first. [Fate/GO AU – The Kid (pt: 1, … 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, ?)]{Some spoilers for original Grand Order run/through Temple of Time, vague situational spoilers for later arcs}

.

.

The sky is grey.

That’s what I thought, when I got here. I knew there was a sun, because there’s light back behind the clouds, but, I can never quite see it.

That’s not quite right, though.

I’ve been watching it now, for a really long time, and it changes. Sometimes, you can see beyond the clouds that block out the sun, and the sky past them is grey, like a desaturated photograph. But, sometimes, if you’re watching for it, the clouds part, and the sky flickers like a candle, and it’s blue. It’s not a normal change, like weather. It’s a quick one, back, and forth. Like a glitch in the world. Like it can’t decide what it’s meant to be.

I’m trying hard, to think about this, because I don’t want to think about anything else that’s happening.

It’s too much. It’s too big, too awful.

How can a person even think about something like that?

I still don’t get what happened. I don’t get where I am.

I think nobody does.

Well, not nobody, I think, watching the man in white with peach hair, walking nearby, deep in conversation with about six other people. They know what’s going on.

I could ask. A lot of us have. But, what would the point be?

I’m not stupid. I know whatever is going on, it’s really bad. They’re scared, and they’re the ones who managed to snatch us away from…whatever that was, and put us here. If they don’t know how to fix it, no way I could. Maybe it’s better not knowing at all.

So stupid.

I…I keep thinking, “Mom’s at home all alone. I didn’t ask anyone to check up on her. I was supposed to be home two hours ago. She’ll be so confused. What if she wanders out again? What if she thinks we still live Esso and gets lost, wondering where the mountains went? What’ll I do if she gets hurt, without me there to look out for her?”

But that’s so stupid.

She’s gone. She…has to be. There was…everything, is gone. Everything. Everything but the…the fucking 200 people in this weird…thing we’re in. Everything.

And what’s the point, without her?

What does it even matter, if I die? What’s left to go back to? Not just her. …everything. It’s all…

“Hey.”

I didn’t hear anybody get close. I must be losing my senses too, not just my sanity.

I look up, and it’s one of this group of whatever they are. She looks normal, but, I remember, before, when the big walls of nothing were closing in around us, she was one of them, running around screaming for people to get close. I think she’s the one I came to.

“You’re hurt,” she says, worriedly, “What can I do to help?”

I stare at her, and forget to answer.

“I-Is it really bad?” She kneels down, and reaches over for my shoulder.

“I’m not hurt.” I hear my own voice. Empty, confused.

“But you’re bleeding?” she says, puzzled. Her hand touches the left side of my chest, and I feel no pain, like I expect, but I look down, and the front of my jacket is covered in blood.

What the hell?!? I think in, as dissociated as I feel, I believe still a pretty fair amount of alarm.

“What?!” That can’t be. I was fine eighteen seconds ago. Wasn’t I?

“What happened to you?” she asks, fear level rising, and she pulls my jacket off, taking a bag off her shoulder and dropping it on the ground. I see a medical kit inside. No idea where she got a thing like that. She sure didn’t have it earlier. “Doctor Roman!”

The man with peach hair looks over in surprise, but not the kind of surprise I expected, which is strange. I don’t really have time to wonder about it. He stops what he was doing and runs for us though, at the sound of the tone in her voice.

“I’m really fine, I think…” I say, still confused, as bad as this admittedly looks for me. The hell would have hurt me? I wasn’t one of the people getting chucked around like a baseball by those freakishly strong guys. All I did was go stand by the redhead when she started screaming and crying. Hard to argue with the massive amount of wet blood on my chest, though. I…guess at least I don’t feel it. ?

“What? What’s wrong?” asks the Doctor, out of breath as he reaches us.

“I don’t know,” says the redhead, who I finally realize has been trying to get my shirt off so she can tell—damn I’m out of it…–and I comply, helping her, “But he—”

We both stop and stare. The shirt comes off, and I’m fine. I’m looking at my bare chest, and there’s not even a scratch. We look at each other, then at the shirt as one, and I see no red. Kind of worried, we make eye contact, and I turn it right-side-out while she goes for the jacket.

Nothing.

How is that possible? Clean—well—as clean as they were after a day of wearing them. No blood.

What the fuck?

None on my hands either. None on hers.

“…He’s? Concussed?” guesses the Doctor, taking a knee too, at least as confused as we are.

“No…he,” says the redhead, looking about like I feel.

“There was blood,” I say, almost to myself, mystified.

“There was what?” echoes the Doctor, looking to me. I shrug. Maybe I’ve gone completely insane. Maybe we all have.

Honestly, that would be a relief. Maybe Mom would be okay.

“He…When I walked up, his jacket and shirt were covered in blood—like—like Billy, the first time I saw him,” says the redhead, looking like she’s worried he’ll think she made it up, “Like he’d been shot.”

Shot?

There was just blood, not a tear, not a bullet hole in the jacket. Why say ‘shot’? Why…do I…

Weird feeling for a second there. I blink, trying to clear it out of my head, and it goes.

“Huh…” says the Doctor slowly, to her great relief, and my somewhat dulled surprise, completely believing her, “It…could be a lot of things. A temporal fluctuation. An alternate reality, even, bleeding in. There’s a lot happening to time right now.” He’s almost talking to himself, but he turns to look at me then. “Okay look, uh—I know this is a lot, and I know it’s overwhelming, and hard to believe, and I wish I had time to explain, but I can’t—yet—I-I’ll do my best later, just, please. Please take this seriously. If some…” He pauses, grimacing as he thinks about what to say, then he refocuses on me. “If some other version of you. If the version of you meant to exist in time before…that thing that just happened, uh, happened, was going to be shot? It’s possible time trying to rewrite itself—to fix itself to what it’s supposed to be—is affecting you. –Don’t worry, you’ll be alright. Just. Don’t lean into that. You don’t want to be shot. You want to be here, alive, right now, in this place.”

He gestures to the field of swords around us.

“Right? I know everything is overwhelming, and the easiest way to handle that is to try to zone out of it all, but I need you to focus. You not doing that might be having an effect on how…present you are, in a literal sense. And if your other option is shot, you really need to be grounded here. Alright?”

He looks so sincerely worried about me. It’s funny.

“Sure,” I say automatically, “I’ll try.”

He gives a nod, and a worried little smile, then looks at the redhead. “Has this happened to anyone else?”

“Not that I’ve seen,” she replies, “But there’s a lot of people here. I’ll keep looking.”

He gives a nod and starts to stand up, then hesitates and looks at me again, then her, “Take him with you, if—uhm—if you’re alright going.”

“Huh?” I say, having started to zone out again already.

“If you don’t mind,” he says, working to hold my attention, “Go with Ritsuka here, to try and help anyone who was injured. It’ll give you something to focus on, and she can keep an eye, in case that uhm…”

‘Ritsuka’? Why does that…

“Ah,” says the Doctor worriedly. I follow his eyes and look down at my chest, and for an instant, there’s blood, and I feel the bottom drop out of my stomach. Then my chest flickers, like the sky does when it gets blue here, and I’m fine. I look back up at the Doctor. “Go with her,” he says with a lot more force now, like a prescription, and pretty scared by that myself, I nod. He turns to Ritsuka. “Please let me know if that keeps happening, or if it’s happening with anyone else.

She nods.

The Doctor stands back up, and turns back to the waiting group of men who followed him here.

“Wait—Doctor Romani!” she calls, and he stops. That same surprise on his face for just a second before his expression goes neutral, and he looks back at her with the sort of reassuring default smile.

Oh. She got his name wrong. Before. That was why…

“Uhm. Can I do anything to help?” she asks.

The smile becomes more genuine. “You already are. I promise,” he replies.

She nods again, and he turns to the others.

“Is that a bad sign?” asks a man with green hair as he joins them.

“I don’t know,” the Doctor says genuinely.

As they move on, I turn back to the redhead and watch her watching them go.

“Why don’t you go with them?” I ask.

She looks to me then, surprised.

“You’re part of the group. I don’t know what you people are, but you were there, calling us to come to…” I gesture at the space around us. “So, you’re one of them.”

“Oh, uhm. I am,” she agrees. She thinks for a second, then looks back. “It’s hard to explain.”

Big surprise.

“But…there’s things it might be dangerous for me to know. For a good reason, but, I’m not sure how much I’m supposed to tell…other people. I’m sorry.” She does look apologetic.

I pick my shirt back up and pull it on. “Did you people do this?”

“WHAT?” she asks in horror, “No! No, not at all! I would never!”

I come out of the shirt grinning, because it’s such a teenager reaction for her to be having to a situation like this where I can barely think at all. “Okay okay—I believe you,” I say, “But I don’t guess you guys are going to explain any time soon?”

“We’re…trying,” she says, looking around at all the people. Most are sitting down, talking to each other. Some alone, like me, zoned out or thinking. Some trying to help the ones injured by being thrown about. A few more investigating the swords, or walking around, I think trying to see how big this place is. Some were mad, demanding answers and fighting, or scared and hysterical, but that shit died out what must be over an hour ago now.

“Yeah, I guess,” I say, too tired to want to fight. I watch her for a few seconds as I pull on my jacket. I wonder how much you really know. “…Can this be fixed?”

She looks back at me, eyes big and worried.

“Everything?” I gesture, emptily, “It…kind of looked like the world was ending.”

“I think it was,” she says, voice shaky and scared. “But. It can be fixed.” She looks over at the Doctor for a few seconds, then back at me. “Doctor Romani says it might not even have exactly happened yet.”

“Come again?” I say.

“Well,” she says, shifting to face me a little more, “It’s like…you know how in a tsunami, the tip of the wave is the part that hits you first, but it’s not the wave itself—not the real wave, just the crest? Or—maybe more like—you know it’s coming, when the water vanishes, but that’s not the danger yet. Not the actual thing. He says something’s gone wrong, and we’re seeing…the effects, before the trigger. Time is messed up. But, that’s good. Because well, I thought about it, and I'm pretty sure that it means, if we can stop it before it happens, then, none of this will ever be. Everything won’t even really get ‘un-done,’ it’ll just…never have to be like this at all.”

“So…whatever…happened, with the world out there. That big whiteness, burning the world away. That hasn’t happened?” I ask.

She nods. “It’s like…getting pulled into a premonition, kind of. He said it shouldn't have happened, or I guess, it won’t 'really' happen, in linear time, for another two months.”

“So, they’re not really dead?” I ask, sitting up, ears perked.

“They?” she asks.

“-People!” I say excitedly, “My Mom—my friends—everyone! They’re not-?”

She’s nodding.

“Oh thank—why didn’t you people say so?!” I ask, overwhelmed with…I think joy? I almost trip over myself standing up, and offer her a hand. “Come on! Two months? That’s no time to lose! Stand up and fight for it! Just tell me what to do!”

She looks surprised, then smiles shakily, and takes the hand and stands with me. “Right! Okay. First thing is to make sure everyone is at their best, so we can work together. They have to think of a plan, fast, so only the people whose skills don’t help with that are available to look after all the people here. That’s not many of us.”

“Then we find some people who can,” I say, and I turn to the people around us and cup my hands. “Okay people! The world hasn’t ended yet—we can still fix it! Working on a plan! So organize already! Get up! Anybody who has medical skills at all—CPR certification, medical school, I don’t give a shit! If you can set a bone or fix up scrapes, over here with me! Anybody hurt bad, raise your hand or get someone near you to so we can find you easy! Let’s go already!”

Ritsuka looks at me and blinks, then turns and watches as around us, people confer, and some start to get up and walk towards us, from all around. Hands go up. Her expression changes, and I see the fear fade, and she starts to smile. A real one. A happy one this time.

“What?” I say, smiling back, “It’s our world too. Did you think we weren’t gonna want to help?

-------------------------------------------------

“Look—I-I don’t have time, to explain all of this.” This is a living nightmare. I am so beyond lost. I know I’m lucky to be alive at all right now, but this entire situation is a wildly unfair twist of luck, or fate, and I do not feel especially lucky right now. I feel emotionally as if I’ve been hit by a bus that then switched to reverse and backed over my mangled body again just for good measure.

“Well, you’re gonna have to explain more,” says Cú Chulainn.

They’re mad. Everyone is mad. Civilians tried to attack us, despite doing our best to explain what’s going on. I thought the Lancer was going to strangle me for a second when we first arrived. I’m pretty sure I’ve made the little girl cry three times. This is my nightmare. I’m living my nightmare, but I still have a shot maybe to fix it, so I can’t give up and die. I’m trapped. In this extended, long, dragged out version, of my nightmare.

Quit complaining. Think hard. You can do this.

Just breathe. And think. And focus. Put all that wisdom to good use, if ever, ever there was a time…

I feel eyes on me—I mean, everyone, has their eyes on me, but, intently. Trying to get me to look back. And I look over and see my father. At least David’s here.

At least I’m not alone. That’s not something I expected, and it’s the only good thing.

He looks so worried about me, and he’s trying to get me to smile at him, and that’s so sad it makes me want to cry, but I can’t, because I have to hold it together. Oh this is hell.

But still. Even as awful as it all is, I appreciate the attempt, and I do feel, minisculely, better.

That’s…something.

I guess all things considered, they’re actually being pretty patient, I think with a sigh, letting some small bit of the tension in me out.

Okay. One task at a time. This can be done.

“Alright. Alright…” I turn to the others. I gave people the bare bones on arrival, but we’ve had so much to do—civilians freaking out, two badly wounded enough that I, as the only doctor on hand, really had no choice but to tend them before doing anything else, and with only so much I could or should say, in front of human strangers. And no one liked that. Me included. But what else could I do? “But I’ll have to give you the short version.”

“Do, then,” says Robin.

“Yes,” prompts Mozart, “How did this happen?”

I run a hand along my face, then look up again and mentally count. “Shouldn’t Emiya be here for this?”

“Emiya isn’t going to be here for anything,” snaps Cú Chulainn, “He’s concentrating on running blade works at maximum efficiency, so we can all stay alive as long as possible. I’ll tell him later. Just go.”

“Okay.” I let out a breath, and after triple checking to make sure we’re far enough now from any humans, turn to face them. “I’m…like you,” I say in defeat.

Cu Chulainn blinks, and looks at Billy, then Robin.

“Like us?” says Billy.

I see something click on Robin’s face, and he looks from David, to me. I nod.

“Yeah. I uh…I a—I was, Solomon.”

There’s silence for a second around the group.

I guess, uh, to my benefit, or, something, the hostility in the air significantly lessens.

“Ohhhhh,” says Cú Chulainn, looking from me to David now too, “This actually explains a lot.”

“Yeah, but not the why he knew about the whole world getting erased bit,” adds Robin with significantly less hostility than before.

“He’s getting to it,” says David with patience he’s clearly trying to will on everyone else.

“Look, the short version is, I won a holy grail war. I got my wish. And…” I shrug, exhausted, “The rumors are true. It’s a monkey’s paw. I wished to get off the throne, live once, and get to move on like a human. It took me off, and for some reason, broke every seal I’d left as Solomon when I did. I knew it the instant I was human again, but, it was too late. I had a lot of demons sealed, from when I was alive. One of them, Goetia, is uh…determined to rewrite history—everything, I guess. I knew he was trying to do…some version of this. But, not enough to know when, or exactly how, or to stop him in time. Especially with…the no magical circuits the grail decided to leave me with, no allies, and no one to believe anything I said. And now, you’ve seen what I was trying to prevent, two months before it should have happened at all.”

There’s silence.

“…Shit,” offers Billy finally. I actually appreciate that so much. There’s about 500 possible reactions to what I just said, and I was afraid of about 402 of them.

“The best I could do, after the Grail dumped me here, was try to find a way to survive it happening, and undo it, because I can beat him, but not until I can find him, and I had no way to find him, until he acted,” I finish, “So. That’s why I know. That’s the short version of my context. As for why this is all happening now? …” I shake my head hopelessly. “It shouldn’t be possible. It isn’t. But…”

Robin waits a second, then turns to David. “That’s all true this time, right? I mean, it clearly is, looking at you two, but, for security’s sake I feel like I have to ask.”

David gives a nod.

“Why can’t we tell Rits?” asks Billy.

“Because she can’t shield her mind,” I say, “I have a way to beat him, if I can get close, but I can onlytry it once, and it will only work if I catch him off guard, and the only advantage I have on him at all right now is that he doesn’t know I’m alive. Given I’ve been playing about 18 steps behind this whole time, I’m not going to tell anyone,” I look at David, “-not even you—what my play is, because if he finds out, it’s all over. You’re just going to have to trust me on that one, single thing. But. Beyond it, I just need to keep me being alive, being ‘Solomon,’ completely off his radar. Please. So, Ritsuka can’t know. She can’t keep herself from being mind read, at her level of mage ability, and I just can’t chance it. Not until I know where he is. Not until I’m sure he doesn’t have a way to use that against us.”

They seem to understand that, thank heaven, and not have a problem with it. The worst I get is Kotarou and Billy looking disappointed.

“Aside from that, I’ll do my best to answer anything I can,” I add tiredly.

“…You said you can’t explain why this is happening now, but, you said before it might be a case of the relativity of simultaneity,” says Salieri, thinking it through for himself, “If you’re right in that hypothesis, and we’re seeing two months into the future…early, essentially, I don’t suppose you have any guess as to why?”

I consider again, just in case something will occur, and shake my head. “It can’t be happening early.” I don’t sound sure in my own ears when the words come out, but…it just. can’t. It can’t. This is the only thing that makes sense. If ‘makes sense’ can even be applied to this state of things at all. “So it’s got to be that. But…no. I don’t know why.”

There’s quiet among us for a second.

“Well…know why or not, ain’t this… ‘simultaneity’ experience…a good thing?” suggests Billy.

I glance at him in surprise.

“Well,” he says again awkwardly, looking to Robin for support, then back at me, “You said you were waitin’ for him to act, b’fore you could stop him. Had to hear the gun go off to aim your own, right? So, if you’re seein’ him make a move, don’t that mean you can find him now?”

I stare at him.

“Right? I mean. Even if it ain’t happened in reality, it happened to us. So, it’s even better than it happening when it’s s’posed to, ‘cause maybe then we stop it ‘fore it happens,” adds Billy.

….

I AM SO STUPID!!! In the midst of all my terrible little panic, THIS hasn’t occurred to me?!?!

“Oh heaven. You’re right,” I say in the voice of someone not remotely there.

“That’s right?” says David, suddenly excited, “Is he right??”

“YES!” I say, having mentally crunched the numbers at warp speed, and launching forward without thinking at all and grabbing Billy, overjoyed, by the shoulders, “I can’t believe it! You’re right! If I can just get to the right equipment! I could even—none of it ever has to happen at all!—”

I am thinking so fast I want to vomit. This is the best I’ve felt since I was incarnated in this form. Oh, God, thank you. Thank you thank you thank you. I can’t believe it! This is a real chance. It won’t be easy, not at all, maybe not even doable, but it’s a chance. A real chance, to avoid it all. To keep it from happening. Oh, I thought it was a curse, but it’s a miracle.

“Okay,” says Cú Chulainn, more relaxed and almost pleased, “So then, we got an idea, good, but what’s the immediate plan going forward?”

Okay okay, he’s right—slow down—think.

“You said ‘if I can get to the right equipment’,” adds Kotarou, “Is that from this Chaldea place you talked about?”

….Chaldea…shit.

Mood fluctuations like this cannot possibly be good for the heart.

“How can we get from a reality marble to there?” muses Mozart, turning to Salieri, “I mean, if it’s even still there. It might have gotten wiped like everything else that’s not been destroyed but also been destroyed.”

“Schrodinger’s destroyed,” says Robin helpfully.

Mozart nods.

I’m barely processing this, mind racing. Trying to take a gift and a curse and wrap them together into some kind of horrible, workable reality. Uhg, I’m so close and so far, and… There has to be a way. There has to. So then…

“Well, there should be ways to find out,” says David.

“From inside a reality marble??” says Mozart.

“…There is,” I say unhappily as the numbers I’ve been running fall into place.

They all look at me again.

I return the looks, and let out a tired breath. “You’re not gonna like it.”

I don’t like it, and it’s my terrible plan.

Cu Chulainn gives me a grimace.

“—Wait—I’m sorry—before we switch topics for good, I’m gonna be thinkin’ about this all day if I don’t ask real quick—Why were you at Ur-Shanabi if you were in the middle of a long-con?” asks Billy, raising his hand.

Cu Chulainn, Robin, Salieri, Kotarou, and I point to David, who David points to himself.

“—Oh. Duh. Sorry—carry on,” says Billy, flushing and giving an awkward grin.

“Should we get Ritsuka now?” asks Mozart, “Before the terrible plan we’re all going to hate?”

I sigh and nod. “Yeah. We need her for it.”

I look off into the crowd, trying to spot her again. She wanted to go help people when she was asked to step away, and I see her a ways off, talking to an old man. The young man from before is with her, and they seem to have drawn quite a crowd. I shouldn’t be surprised. She’s really something. I feel terrible I’ve dragged her into all this. Why is it always the kindest people who end up being asked to give the most, over and over again? It’s not even fair the first time.

“We need her for it?” I half-hear Cú Chulainn echo behind me. “Oh…shit. You don’t mean…?”

“…I…I think he does,” says Robin in similar disbelieving horror.

“Mean what?” asks Kotarou.

I can only guess from their tone they’ve guessed correctly. I sigh.

“Mozart, any chance you can find something that passes for a leyline?” I ask, turning back to them.

“IN A REALITY MARBLE?” says the Caster, between disgusted and elated at this insane request.

“That passes for one,” I say, exhausted, “It’s a complex inner-scape. The density of magic must be higher somewhere in here than everywhere else.”

“Oh, you’re really going to do it,” he says in horrid fascination. He turns to Salieri. “The man says such terrible things so casually. I love it.”

“Oh, no,” says Kotarou, looking between us, “No no no. That’s never going to work!” He glances desperately over at Ritsuka. “I-I know My Lord has quite the pool of mana, but, she’s already giving Emiya what he needs for Unlimited Blade Works. Even trying to summon another spirit, inside a reality marble? It…”

“It’s crazy,” I agree, turning to face him, “But. We’re out of options.”

That’s the cold, hard, simple truth.

Cu Chulainn has a scowl on his face, deep in thought. “…I hate to say it,” he exhales, glancing up, “But I think he’s right.”

“Will that even work?” asks Billy.

“Maybe, maybe not, “says Robin, “But right now, we’re on a timer. If…nothing changes, then, eventually, even Ritsuka runs out of mana. And, when she does…”

He glances over at the around two-hundred people we managed to save, expression worried, and grim.

“If we try this, and fail, they die. If we do nothing, they die,” says Robin, “If we try and we succeed. Maybe we all live.”

I nod slowly.

“There’s nothing else we can do?” asks Kotarou, “That… the odds of success have to be so slim. Isn’t there anything more careful? If we mess up here. If we’re…all that’s left.”

“Yes,” says David, moving closer and putting a hand on his shoulder, “But the longer we wait to act, the worse it gets too. The simple fact is,” he adds, glancing to me to make sure this is right, “The only place left out there—places, I should say—according to the calculations he made before, will be Chaldea. And wherever Goetia is.”

I nod.

“We can’t get there on our own,” says David, “We need a spirit with clairvoyance, time travel, or some kind of mechanical, technological marvel that can get us from a reality marble, to one of those two places. And…none of us can do that.”

Billy seems to think really hard, like he’s trying to find a way to do it himself, then sighs and nods at David.

“Okay. Well, Mozart, I guess good luck doing what he asked,” says Robin.

Mozart makes a dismal ‘ha-ha’ sound in response.

“Doctor, we’ll bring Ritsuka. You make whatever preparations this insane plan involves on your end,” continues Robin, “You’ve probably got a little time, because the rest of us need to take a minute to talk about long-term plans, because even if we get a spirit, chances are it won’t be on the first try, and like it or not, the biggest draw of her mana after the reality marble—”

“-ah shit,” says Billy with a grimace as he gets where Robin is going.

Robin nods sympathetically.

I consider saying something to try and cheer them up, but what can I say? I know this situation is grim even better than they do. And…they’re right.

“Come along,” says David cheerily, slinging an arm around Robin and Kotarou, since they’re closest to him, “Let’s do it then. We’ll go with Mozart so he can be part of the discussion while praying to trip over a leyline.”

“Your compassion is overwhelming,” jokes Mozart.

They start off, and David flashes me a reassuring smile over his shoulder.

I appreciate it more than he can possibly know.

“Ab,” I say, and he pauses, the others with him. “Everyone. …Thank you.” I really mean that. “I know this situation is terrible. And, intentional or not, I know it’s my fault. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry you all got caught up in the middle of it this way.”

Some of them trade glances, then look back at me.

“Ain’t really so bad, for us. This is still a good summons,” says Billy.

“Besides, you didn’t know,” adds Kotarou, lost in thought.

“Yes. I’ve been pretty happy,” adds Mozart, slinging an arm around Salieri, who seems to momentarily be too deeply lost in thought to notice that or what I’m saying to him.

“Well, I know we have to plan, but I wouldn’t give up on your manifestations just yet,” I add, feeling better, and trying to think this angle over too, “I’ve got a few ideas on summoning from in here. We might get lucky. And, uh, I’ll do my best to give us an edge.”

Robin gives a tired smile, and I get a friendly nod from Cú Chulainn too. They’re all taking this really well. There’s…almost something familiar about it, to me. Telling someone to defend a point as long as they can. Well, that’s not exactly what this is, but. I feel strange nostalgia I can’t place anyway. It’s a good feeling though, and I’ll take whatever luck or good omen I can get.

-----------------------------------------

“Rits! Hey!”

I look up at the sound of Billy’s voice and see him easily even in the crowd, because he’s waving a hand above his head. Also, because Cú Chulainn is by him, and that guy’s really tall and has blue hair.

Actually, I think it’s everybody—oh, uhm, except Emiya. Right, I think, getting to my feet and wiping my hands off on my knees, I better go make sure he’s okay too.

I want to bring him some food, because even thought Heroic Spirits don’t need it, it helps them conserve energy, and he must be getting so tired keeping his phantasm going a long time like this, but, the only food we’ve got is the food people brought with them. We’ve got about 200 people here, but even though we were in a shopping district, not a whole lot of them were carrying food or drinks, and most of the ones who were had a snack, or a partially drunk water bottle. We’re going to have to be careful to conserve what we can.

“Can you stay with him?” I ask, indicating the older man we’ve been helping, “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

My new friend gives a nod. We’d fixed up the gash in the man’s arm already – all that was left is wrapping it with a bandage, and I’m sure he can do that alone. “Yeah, sure. Just don’t be gone forever. The rest of us would really like some idea what’s going on, at some point?” he replies, taking the roll of bandages I hand him.

“I’ll be back,” I promise, “Uhm. Try to…”

“…Not let my mind wander, and start bleeding to death from a gunshot wound?” he jokes. The old man we’ve been helping gives him a deeply concerned look and he grimaces. “Ah. Uh. Sorry—kind of hard to explain. Uh…”

I give him a smile, then turn to face my friends and start walking, hearing him continue to talk behind me. For just a second, I see him glance over and watch us as I go, but then he goes back to trying to explain things to the old man.

“Hey guys,” I say as I join the others.

“Doing some good work,” observes Robin, surveying the crowd.

“Yeah, they’re a lot calmer than before when they wanted to murder us,” adds Billy casually.

“They’re helping a lot now,” I say, “We just explained that there’s a chance to fix things, and people are pitching in.”

“Glad to hear it,” says Robin, “So, uh. Look.”

Uh oh. That doesn’t sound good. They all look…kind of nervous too. “W…What’s going on?” I ask, suddenly deeply worried. They aren’t all here but Emiya, either. Mozart isn’t.

“Nothin!” hurries Billy, “Well—nothin’ bad. Or. Nothin’ so bad-“

“—He’s trying to say, we have a plan going now,” says Robin, “And we need you for it.”

“Oh! That’s good, though,” I say, confused, “Why do you all look worried?”

“Well,” offers David, gesturing for me to follow. I go with them, and we start to walk. “Uh. You know the general situation is that we’re in a reality marble, and if it stops…being projected, we, uhm, die.”

“R-Right,” I ask worriedly, “Wait! Am I running out of manna?”

“Are you?” asks Robin, turning to stare.

“No. I mean. I don’t think so. How would I know?” I say.

“How would we know?” says Robin, mystified.

“Can’t ya…tell?” asks Billy, “I mean. How do you feel?”

“Okay, I think,” I reply. Everyone looks relieved.

“Look, the short of it is, Blade Works can’t stop. Or everyone dies,” says Cú Chulainn, on target, “Supposedly, Chaldea is safe out there. If we can get to it, we could stop being in Blade Works. Which is great, because even Archer can’t do it infinitely.”

“That’s good,” I say hopefully.

“Yeah,” agrees Cú Chulainn, “But we have no idea how to get there from a reality marble. Generally, uh, a reality marble stays connected to reality where it was.”

“So, if he stopped…we’d go back to the city,” I say, heart fluttering and making me feel sick. The image of everything turning white and vaporizing around me is still very fresh in my head.

“Yeah, if we did it right now,” says Cú Chulainn.

“But, Doctor Romani has a plan,” says David with enthusiasm. He sounds so sure of himself, it makes me feel more okay too. “We’re going to summon another servant—one who can help us get to Chaldea.”

“Can you do that in a reality marble?” I ask, eyes wide.

“We’re about to find out!” says David with great optimism the same time Robin says, “God I hope so…” with considerably less.

“Yeah, and the Doc needs your help with that, so we’re gonna go over there,” continues Cú Chulainn, “But. We needed to talk to you too.”

“A…bout?” I ask, uncertain about the look on his face.

“About…” Billy pauses. Everyone stops with him, and they trade looks. He turns to face me, and puts his hands on my shoulders. “Look, uh, Rits. I know you ain’t gonna like this, but we’ve all talked it out.”

I feel very worried about this.

“Summoning a new servant…it’s gonna cost a lot of mana, and, that’s if it works. Or, works the first time,” he continues.

“Even if it does, we don’t know how fast they’ll be able to provide a solution,” says Salieri like an exhale. He’s been quiet, and when I look at him, his expression is very far away. I’m really, really worried now.

“Usually, the smartest thing to do…” Billy pauses, glances at Robin, then Kotarou, then back at me. “…Would be to just dismiss us all but Emiya, right now.”

“No!” I say in horror.

He lets go of my shoulder with one of his hands to hold it up. “But! Uh. We also know with what caused this bein’ so big and scary, keepin’ us, as many of us as we can, around, is gonna help in the long run.”

“R-Right,” I say, heartbeat still racing.

Why don’t they look like that means it’s okay?

“Still,” he says more softly, “We gotta face facts that, unless we get real lucky, we could be stuck here for…days, weeks. And…the longer we’re up, the less energy you got left to keep Blade Works going. The less time all these humans have to live.”

He gestures past me, at them. Trying to make me look at them. I don’t want to. I don’t like this. I hate it.

But, I look. I’ve talked to so many of them the last few hours. Names, faces, fragments of life stories. My newest friend is still only about fifteen feet off, tying off a bandage, trying to make this old man smile. Telling him some kind of story.

My chest aches.

“We’re…spirits.” Billy shrugs, and I turn back to look at him. He’s smiling at me, but he looks sad. They all do. “Worst that can happen, is we go back to the throne. These folks? This is their first life. This is all they got. When it comes down to it, you gotta do things you don’t always like, for the people who need you.”

I shake my head. “There has to be another way.”

“There…isn’t,” says Salieri. He looks calm right now, like when I first met him. Like a teacher. “We’ve talked it out, and, it seems most reasonable to us to be pragmatic.”

“Yes.” David looks sad. He sighs, shuts his eyes, then puts on a smile. “The Caster is almost finished with what he needs to do. After that…”

“After that, he and I will be the biggest drain on resources, because of our class,” says Cú Chulainn. There’s no fear in him, just a little chagrin. Like this is all normal, and okay. “After us, the Assassin, then Salieri. Avengers generate a little of their own mana, so if you cut him off, he can probably hang on for a little while.”

Salieri gives a nod, but there’s a look on his face like he wouldn’t want to.

“Obviously, Archer—Emiya,” says Cú Chulainn like he’s annoyed to call him that, “Can’t go at all, because it’s his phantasm. The rest of the Archers can probably last about a week if they don’t do anything. Gunner might not last quite that long, but several days.”

“You want me to break your contracts now?” I ask in horror.

He looks kind of surprised, glances at the others.

“I mean. If you want to wait and see if we get a miracle at the summoning circle,” suggests Robin Hood like it’s half a joke.

“No,” I say emphatically. I put my foot down—literally, and I’m embarrassed about stomping like a little kid, but I can’t help it! “No way!”

They look at me, look at each other, like they expected this. Like it’s…a problem. But! It’s not – they’re-!

“…Ritsuka,” tries Robin.

“-No!” I cut him off. I can tell some of the normal humans around us are starting to listen, and I’m probably being too loud, but I’m so upset! “Look—I get it!” I say, trying to calm down, and doing a really bad job, “I know this is bad! I saw it—I saw the world getting erased around us. I saw people getting swallowed up! I saw everything bad close around us! I know this is really serious, and really bad! I’m not stupid! But-!”

It's just too much! It’s not fair! It’s not right! It—It’s something more than that that I just can’t…can’t find the words for, but, I’ve got to! So they’ll understand! So this won’t happen! So—

“Look,” I plead, turning to them in turn.

Cu Culainn and Robin look sympathetic, like they’re sorry I’m wrong. Salieri looks sad. David looks pained. Billy looks worried. Kotarou is staring at me, taken aback, so I focus on him first. I think ‘maybe he’ll get it’. Like maybe he can help.

“We’re all trapped here, alone, together. There’s…” I counted, before. I try to remember. “There’s … two-hundred and six people here, including you, and me, and the doctor. Two-hundred, and six. That’s everybody that we know is still alive. If we…hours into being stuck here, start deciding it’s okay to get rid of people, for the greater good…” I shake my head. “No. I won’t do it. –Look, I feel fine. I’ve got energy. Maybe, if…if things get worse, and you’re right, maybe we have to do extreme stuff later. But, that’s not the right way to fight this. We’re protecting everybody, including each other. Everybody we have left. We’re down, to two-hundred and six. I don’t want two-hundred and four, I don’t want two-hundred, I don’t want one-hundred and ninety-nine, when we get to Chaldea. I want everybody.”

They all exchange looks again. Cú Chulainn gets a funny expression on his face.

“We aren’t going to fight a losing battle when we just got here,” I say, calming down a little. Squaring my shoulders and my stance. “Thank you, for offering, but you’re all going to help these people and me a lot better here, and alive. I promise. I can do it. I can keep everybody going.”

Robin laughs, and I’m worried, but, it’s not a mean laugh, and he gives me a tired smile and shakes his head when I look at him, like he doesn’t know what to say.

“Well, I told you that’s what she’d say,” says Billy, taking off his hat to run a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, you did,” sighs Cú Chulainn. He gives me a glance. “You know this is stupid? I can’t make you break a contract I agreed to already, but, if you don’t cut us loose, you’re putting everyone at risk. Idealism can only go so far in reality.”

“Let’s see how far then,” I say hopefully.

He almost chokes on a laugh, lets out a deeper sigh, and grins. “Well, I know when I’m beat. For the moment, anyway.”

“You’re sure…?” asks Kotarou tentatively.

I turn to look at him. He looks confused.

“I mean, he’s right,” he offers.

“I don’t think so,” I say, and I realize when I do that it’s true. That I…I think I’m right. I was upset, and worried, and distressed at first, but, I couldn’t figure out the right thing to say. Now, I think…I think I get it beyond just the feeling it would be wrong, though. “I know…there’s good reasons to suggest that,” I say, turning back to Cú Chulainn, “But…I think, in a situation as bad as this, it’s not just that I don’t want to do it. Or…that I need you, or that it’s wrong, and not fair. I think…it would also be the wrong thing to do, because…because in a situation as bad as this, what matters most is that all of us stick together. All of us—you too. That…we make sure everybody knows, for certain, that everybody is important; them, and the person next to them, and every person here, and…and that we aren’t going to drop them, as soon as they become too hard to carry, or feed, or, take too much energy away from the rest of us. We were…”

I glance back. The people close enough are definitely listening, although some of them are trying to be polite and pretend they’re not, which is nice of them. The old man and my new friend aren’t pretending at all, they’re just watching. My friend has a focus in his expression, and he tilts his head at me when I look his way.

“…All in chaos, before. People were arguing, and fighting. Everyone was scared, and mad, and hurt, and nobody trusted each other.” I turn back to the others. “But look at them now. We’re working together, and everyone is looking out for each other. People with skills to help are helping, and people with food and water are sharing, and people who were alone are meeting the people next to them, so nobody is alone anymore, and, and now we can all believe we’re going to make it. And that makes it so we can. Because we’re not trying to win. We didn’t grab all those people and take them with us so we could forget about them while we try to get to a safer place. We’re trying to save everyone. Every individual. And, that includes you guys. I’d rather be low on resources, with people who know I’m not going to leave them, than have everything I need, and people who know they’re expendable. Because, they’re not.” I smile at them. “Even when they’re trying to be heroic about it.”

“…She makes a good case,” says Salieri. He smiles and turns to gesture to the others. “Morale is more important to the outcome, often, maybe most of the time, than resources.”

“Well, it’s her decision,” decides David graciously, “So I guess we have no choice but to listen to our leader.”

I grin at him.

“Thank you,” says Kotarou.

Surprised, I look at him. He looks overwhelmed and really taken aback, like he might cry. I forgot, this is still like, day one after being kidnapped and tortured for him. No wonder everything is so terrible.

“I…shouldn’t thank you, because I should try to talk you out of it,” he says ruefully, glancing at the ground for a few seconds before looking at me again, “But…Just the same. I….we. …”

I shake my head. “I know you want to protect everyone, even if you have to go. I’m not saying I think that’s wrong. But, I’m not letting anybody get sacrificed because it ‘might’ be better in the long run. I don’t believe that.”

He looks at me and smiles hesitantly, but it’s a real smile.

I’m really glad. I know he’s had a rough time just adjusting to being up and okay again.

“Well, I figure we got told off pretty good,” says Billy, grinning and slinging an arm around me. I grin back at him. “I don’t rightly know what the proper tactical choice is, but I can’t say I got a problem with this one personally, and I think I trust her judgement.”

“Yeah,” sighs Robin.

“Well, she has proved pretty dependable at that,” concedes Cú Chulainn with a distracted little smile like he’s still thinking about a joke someone told a while ago.

“So, since y’ain’t cuttin us loose just yet, guess we better really double down on gettin’ a good spirit to come help,” says Billy.

“Right!” I say, “Let’s go right now, if they’re ready.” I turn to my new friend and the man we were helping. “Will you all be okay alone?”

My friend waves me off. “Yeah, yeah—I can roll some gauze. Go summon a whatever and save the world or something—I mean the second part; seriously. Get us out of here,” he adds, but I think he’s pleased.

I give him a nod and turn to the others.

“Amadeus is this way,” says Salieri, and he leads us.

[skrunksthatwunk]

found out that rascal's owner took him again while i was out, and he's probably not gonna be back since the semester's almost over. i don't even know if his owner's coming back next semester, if i'll ever see him again. if he'll ever see me again. why do they wait until im not around to do this? why do they never let me say goodbye to him?

[the-rogue-mockingjay]

mods are asleep time to post o'ravmeric

also, bonus close up of o'ravi because she's adorable 💕:

[grison-in-space]

ooh there's another potentially unpopular opinion that I skimmed over when I was avoiding that bait post: I think dogs are safer when they're treated as relatively expensive and valuable, and I have no problem with breeders potentially making a profit off breeding dogs as long as the breeding program is otherwise ethical.

My definition of ethical involves breeding dogs that are not imprisoned by their bodies and can engage easily in species typical behaviors without chronic pain or breathing distress. (I have the human equivalent of BOAS with my tiny mandible and giant tongue occasionally blocking my airway and would not wish it on anyone.) Similarly, ethics means you're breeding for dogs that can live long, healthy, comfortable lives, and you should do your due diligence on health testing and adjust breeding accordingly. Breeding animals should be kept in enriched environments with adequate social contact and good general welfare.

Beyond that point? If you can market your dog as valuable enough for someone to buy it at your price, and if your dogs routinely find homes they generally stay in for the rest of their lives without injuring anyone around them, go nuts.

[charliespringverse]

something so fun about seeing posts like "the writers have backed themselves into a corner where [queer relationship] is the only thing that makes sense! there's no logical outcome where they don't end up together!" because like? yeah ur right homosexuality is the only way forward and any other romantic endgame would be really badly done... but i've been gay for a while now and consuming media for even longer. i have near complete confidence in my belief that any show that doesn't market itself specifically towards queer audiences is never going to provide a satisfactory outcome to queer subtext

[van-goghs-smoking-skull]

its not about kink you fucking moron

So you honestly believe someone is going to give his slave [someone made to work against their will and considered to be the slave-owner's personal property, which is a horrible thing and should ALWAYS be illegal as a violation of basic human rights] an engraved golden collar worth more than any other Roman citizen, even the richest ones, could hope to add to their own wealth in a year? And that they would never possibly give such a valuable piece of jewelry, essentially, to their Slave [willing participant in certain adult activities, which is the business of consenting adults in their own private places and sometimes parties or shows for that sort of thing and should not ever be illegal, as the government should not be in the business of dictating anyone's consent in those activities]?

Let me guess, kink hadn't been invented yet back then, which I'm sure somehow explains some of the rather kinky historical art from that time. Have you considered that there may be cultural differences between, say, plantation owners using slaves to pick cotton in the US/POC arrested and imprisoned under some absolutely clown-ass laws and worked for free under the US prison system vs. the system in ancient Rome in which entertainment in the arena were frequently done by slaves, in fact MOSTLY by slaves, who had signed up for that work? See, it simply meant someone who wasn't getting paid directly in coin, however, training and fame were payment options. Back under that system, if you wanted to gain fame and other perks in the arena, you could sign up as a slave to one of the richer citizens of Rome in exchange for training under other famous Gladiators. And it was even common enough for the highest earning Gladiators who had won enough fights to be presented with a wooden sword by their master, symbolizing freedom, and they could choose to retire or keep fighting as a free man, either as a trainer for their former master, for another slave-owner, or on their own if they could afford the villa, equipment, food, services and entry as an owner of Gladiators. Generally, you wouldn't call gym membership, training, and a chance to become a world-famous wrestler slavery today, but it's much the same thing now, minus the guaranteed food, shelter, medical care, and other perks they used to get as slaves.

The Greeks were popular slaves back then, too, as they were considered to be very highly educated and quite good at accounting, speech writing, and excellent at political science. As slaves, they were given rooms in the family home, food, fine clothing, and other perks, including the ability to discuss politics with their master, if perhaps their master happened to be in the Senate, similar to unpaid interns and activists in Washington, DC, only now they don't live with politicians or get gifts for their work (instead the politicians get gifts, usually referred to as bribes by people outside of politics). Imagine the looks you'd get if you claimed Obama started off as a slave on his path to becoming President, and yet he was an activist at one time, and as an activist, worked for others, sometime voluntarily (unpaid).

Sex work was also done by slaves, and if a rich guy who could afford it found a woman or man particularly interesting and they were willing, he could very well buy their contract out and add them to the household. Slavery meant different things in different cultures and has changed in meaning over time.

Maybe go study World History using credible sources and stop getting all your information from booktok.

[wishful-seeker]

Im sooo happy im on physical therapy again

Toned legs and less pain here i come!