#but all of that If Possible or plausible is a very long way off which is okay its okay

[anthrotographer]

Review of 'The Time Machine' by H.G. Wells

The stories of H.G.Wells are rich and captivating worlds where he makes the unfathomable seem plausible. Wells uses concepts from the sciences readily in his writing as a base of reality. His protagonists tend to be inquisitive types that posit questions about the state of the world, often giving and testing their hypotheses along a surreal adventure. In The Time Machine our protagonist is simply and ambiguously labeled the Time Traveler. He has just transformed physics forever by creating a vehicle that can fold and traverse spacetime. Now he aims to demonstrate to his civilized friends his unbelievable achievement. In a way this demonstration is both a primer for them and a reassurance for himself that he is not in a fantasy.

“Can an instantaneous cube exist?”

This is a question the Time Traveler asks his dinner party audience in order to introduce the concept of Time as the 4th dimension. He claims you need “duration” for anything to truly exist. If a cube only exists for an imperceptible instant then did it really exist? It’s a question that provokes a bunch of thoughts. How long is an instant? If an instant is measurable then the cube did exist for a time, no? But without the evidence of creation or decay of the cube how can we be certain that it existed? This question is a seemingly untestable hypothetical. 

“But you are wrong to say that we cannot move about in Time. For instance, if I am recalling an incident very vividly I go back to the instant of its occurrence: I become absent-minded, as you say. I jump back for a moment. Of course we have no means of staying back for any length of Time, any more than a savage or an animal has of staying six feet above the ground. But a civilized man is better off than the savage in this respect. He can go up against gravitation in a balloon, and why should he not hope that ultimately he may be able to stop or accelerate his drift along the Time-Dimension, or even turn about and travel the other way?"

The idea of memories being a way to time travel brings into thought a swell of philosophy. Is time really just a figment of consciousness. A way for humans to make sense of the world, to traverse it, to learn from it. Many scientists seem to think so (1). A mind altering realization that I can’t truly grasp fully. But what if in a way thinking of time as just a construct of the mind might reveal an ultimate interpretation of this extraordinary tale that’s being told. I’m sure it’s read that way by some.  

Also, ‘if ever a creature could figure out time travel it’s humans’, believes the Time Traveler. His distinction between “civilized” man and a “savage” is problematic to say the least, but we’ll revisit that later because it has major bearing on how our protagonist sees the world. 

Distinguishing the 4th dimension of Time as another measure of existence (like the 3 Euclidian measures of height, length and width) is a way for the reader, and the dinner party audience, to conceptualize it as a plane that we can move along. Today scientists still haven’t cracked the code of time travel and some contest Time being the 4th dimension at all. (2)(3)

“The peculiar risk lay in the possibility of my finding some substance in the space which I, or the machine, occupied. So long as I travelled at a high velocity through time, this scarcely mattered: I was, so to speak, attenuated— was slipping like a vapour through the interstices of intervening substances! But to come to a stop involved the jamming of myself, molecule by molecule, into whatever lay in my way: meant bringing my atoms into such intimate contact with those of the obstacle that a profound chemical reaction-possibly a far-reaching explosion-would result, and blow myself and my apparatus out of all possible dimensions into the Unknown. This possibility had occurred to me again and again while I was making the machine”

Here the Time Traveler is describing his first, future time warp. Imagine flying through time and seeing your home, and world as you knew it, vanish. It reads as an incredibly disorienting experience. And this possibility of stopping at the wrong time and fusing with some obstruction in his position seems like a massive red flag. The logic that Wells presents shows how deep he went in imagining what time travel would be like. He intuitively analyzed many of the potential pitfalls that could occur. 

“What might appear when that hazy curtain was altogether withdrawn? What might not have happened to men? What if cruelty had grown into a common passion? What if in this interval the race had lost its manliness and had developed into something inhuman, unsympathetic, and overwhelmingly powerful? I might seem some old-world savage animal, only the more dreadful and disgusting for our common likeness, a foul creature to be incontinently slain.”

And here begins the traveler’s speculative musings on the futurity of man. I enjoy this aspect of the story in particular because of my own fascination with humanity’s future. Here he contemplates what we might turn into. Projecting forward, knowing that our species has a long history of warring against each other, it would be a safe bet that that would continue. It has for some time. But is it intrinsic to what our species is? One read of this quote is that the Traveler thinks cruelty is currently uncommon, and that we might devolve into being cruel creatures. Wells and the Time Traveler are from England. They grew up as citizens of a colonial power, used to a culture of cruel conquest. They are also used to thinking that to maintain their civilization some other peoples need to be on the sacrificial end. This dichotomic mentality deems all other lives expendable on their route to control, and maybe this line of thinking from the Time Traveler is an example of that mentality bleeding over into his predictions. When I read that last sentence of the quote I couldn’t help but think about the British colonist’s warped rationale for incontinently slaying the indigenous peoples of Australia or N. America. A bit of projection maybe?

Now he’ll actually stop at a time, far different than his own. A moment in time where mother nature’s diversity has been restored, while humanity is “upon the wane.”

“You see I had always anticipated that the people of the year Eight Hundred and Two Thousand odd would be incredibly in front of us in knowledge, art, everything. Then one of them suddenly asked me a question that showed him to be on the intellectual level of one of our five-year-old children- asked me, in fact, if I had come from the sun in a thunderstorm! … A flow of disappointment rushed across my mind. For a moment I felt that I had built the Time Machine in vain.”

The anticipation of a progressive revolution speaks to his belief in humanity’s continued evolution (whatever that means). It can be coming from a societally egoistic perspective or a self-ego perspective, being that the Time Traveler can see himself as a revolutionary inventor. Thinking that we will always be progressing doesn’t take into account the pitfalls that come from our expansion.

I think that Wells actually does a nice job in creating this character that doesn’t get lost in himself too much, and tends to stick to ideas about the world. He rolls with the punches of having some of his hypotheses turn out wrong. He is human of course and does have brief episodes of existential dread, but the plot is more important than character to this story. In a way it is more captivating that way. The protagonist can be an amorphous entity for the reader to plop themselves into to experience the imaginary world of time travel. 

Meeting the Eloi people in this moment shatters the glass of that societal ego. Our traveler was so looking forward to ascertaining the future’s wisdom. My interpretation is that The Time Machine is unwittingly prophetic in distinct ways. And that the future’s wisdom is revealed. More to come.

“For the first time I began to realise an odd consequence of the social effort in which we are at present engaged. And yet, come to think, it is a logical consequence enough. Strength is the outcome of need; security sets a premium on feebleness. The work of ameliorating the conditions of life-the true civilising process that makes life more and more secure-had gone steadily on to a climax. One triumph of a united humanity over Nature had followed another. Things that are now mere dreams had become projects deliberately put in hand and carried forward. And the harvest was what I saw!” “Social triumphs, too, had been effected. I saw mankind housed in splendid shelters, gloriously clothed, and as yet I had found them engaged in no toil. There were no signs of struggle, neither social nor economical struggle. The shop, the advertisement, traffic, all that commerce which constitutes the body of our world, was gone. It was natural on that golden evening that I should jump at the idea of a social paradise.”

He finds a world where the small population of Eloi are thought to be our last descendants. There is very little modern architecture left, and even less not fully claimed back by vegetation. Wondering why there are so few people left and why no one is doing any work, he speculates that it might be the logical order of a fully realized civilized world. A utopia of sorts where life is so easy that we have adjusted to a life of physical and mental sloth. The idea of the exponentially increasing civilizing process is a prevalent idea in present day thought. First it assumes that civility = collective good, when practically speaking only a subset of our population benefits from this modernity while the other part either toils to maintain it or gets excluded from it. Which brings up another variable when projecting forward, which is; what happens to class and human exploitation. The trend of modernity, industrialization, civilization or whatever you want to call it hasn’t necessarily been in effort to make life easier in those respects. Some technologies and medicines have of course had positive effects, but toil and hardship has stayed steadfast (4). You can even argue that there were many ‘primitive’ societies that lived more sustainably and with less toil than us (5). What I’m ultimately saying is that “ameliorating the conditions of life” can be helped of course by developments in our understanding about the world (such as in medical science and tech), but that one of those developments has to be an egalitarian and democratic society. At least if we want to shoot for utopia. 

Anyway, this timeline of history doesn’t entirely hold up as the Time Traveler searches for more clues.

“Very simple was my explanation, and plausible enough—as most wrong theories are!"

We cannot fully affirm the Time Traveler’s conjecture anymore because he has proven himself fallible. Yet he does make some convincing arguments for certain aspects of the changed world. These must be considered. I like that he’s not an all knowing narrator. He is trying his best to have educated hypotheses about this confusing new age.

“Even in our own time certain tendencies and desires, once necessary to survival, are a constant source of failure. Physical courage and the love of battle, for instance, are no great help—may even be hindrances—to a civilised man.”

Here I agree with him that our proclivity for battle is a negative. I feel linking “physical courage and the love of battle” either doesn’t translate well to today (and I’m not understanding) or they are distinctly separate tendencies. You can be courageous and put your body on the line for the greater good of humanity; hence it wouldn’t be a hinderance. That can be through battle or it can be through other means like protest. And once again the Time Traveler makes a distinction here between civilized man and humanity in general. His use of vocabulary like “savage” and “civilized” throughout the novella depict a man who sees himself as a distinct version of humanity or an entirely different being in general. One that’s superior to other peoples. This thinking is in line with 19th century European views and informs their creation of the defunct classification of race (6).

“The Time Machine was gone! At once, like a lash across the face, came the possibility of losing my own age, of being left helpless in this strange new world.”

After a day getting acquainted with his surroundings he gets this heart stopper. Coming to the conclusion that his invention must have been moved deliberately, he begins his search for the culprit. It couldn’t have been the “indolent” Eloi. He befriends one of them that he names Weena and she joins the traveler on his explorations.

“But, gradually, the truth dawned on me: that Man had not remained one species, but had differentiated into two distinct animals: that my graceful children of the Upper World were not the sole descendants of our generation, but that this bleached, ob-scene, nocturnal Thing, which had flashed before me, was also heir to all the ages.”

His first encounter with the Morlocks, the Eloi’s underground counterparts. 

“At first, proceeding from the problems of our own age, it seemed clear as daylight to me that the gradual widening of the present merely temporary and social difference between the Capitalist and the Labourer, was the key to the whole position.”

I had to stop and think about this one. Could it be possible for a class divide of peoples that stretches on for millennia to actually produce distinct creatures? I think 800,000 years is long enough for a species to evolve some changed features, especially moving down into a subterranean environment. Still, the people that lived there would have to have been forced to live there by the upper worlders. In a Capitalist vs laborer dynamic we know from history that uprisings would likely occur amongst the subjugated class which would make it difficult for the dynamic to stay so divided. Especially if the Eloi ancestors were dependent on the labor that the Morlock ancestors were producing, as the traveler hypothesizes. As long as humans have been organizing together there have been some who selfishly try to extract a bigger piece of the pie at the expense of others; at the expense of equality. I think Wells recognizes an existing class divide and extrapolates out from there to create a semi-logical science fiction future. From a capitalist’s perspective having a labor force trapped underground, unable to complain or taint the image of your exclusive eden, seems ideal. This imagery is extremely reminiscent of another classic short story called The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas by Ursula K. Le Guin (7). Wells’ conceives of many possible variables that might’ve shaped his world, but leaves room for a reader to interpret. I want to take some of his prophetic descriptions and offer up my own reading after the following quote.

“I think I have said how much hotter than our own was the weather of this Golden Age. I cannot account for it. It may be that the sun was hotter, or the earth nearer the sun.”

Well Wells, maybe it was hotter because of human induced climate change. There are plenty of anecdotes in the story that describe humanity as the main arbiter of earth’s future changes. We all tend to acknowledge that as a matter of fact. The agricultural and industrial revolutions proved that we, more than any other species, shape the landscape of the world. But having the hindsight of 21st century knowledge really informs how I see The Time Machine. In the story humanity has decreased in numbers drastically, has devolved in its intellectual capacity, and our infrastructures have collapsed. Humans no longer are “progressing” in the modern sense where progress gets unnecessarily linked with expansion, extraction, and exploitation. Perhaps they are just living sustainably like any other creature. I know a small mention about the climate being hotter doesn’t explicitly point to climate change being the culprit for the Eloi’s reality. Still, could it be that the big existential crisis of our time was never remedied and this led to mass degradation of human society? Some of our smartest minds tend to think this is what’s coming for us (8). Maybe the forces of change ran half of humanity underground and that’s what birthed the Morlocks. Maybe traversing time in The Time Machine was in effort to glimpse into our unassured future.

“However great their intellectual degradation, the Eloi had kept too much of the human form not to claim my sympathy, and to make me perforce a sharer in their degradation and their Fear.”

A great example of the simplistic inclination we have to sympathize with who/what-ever looks most like us. It’s not to say it’s not practical because instinctually we gravitate towards our families who of course resemble us the most. But to overlook the science in favor of habit and familiarity has put humanity at odds with itself and the ecosystem. No matter the race, nationality, or however we choose to divide, the science says that we are all practically the same, with the same basic needs and desires. The same is true of us and the rest of the biosphere full of carbon based life forms. Disassociating ourselves from that collective has given us the illusion of invincibility. The repercussions will be severe.  

“I felt the intensest wretchedness for the horrible death of little Weena. It seemed an overwhelming calamity. Now, in this old familiar room, it is more like the sorrow of a dream than an actual loss.”

Finally after many dramatic happenings (that I can keep listing but I genuinely recommend you read) the Time Traveler has found his machine and is able to return to a more familiar time. Recounting his experience is almost like thinking on a dream. His friends will hardly believe the tale and maybe some part of himself doesn’t either. Remember, if time is truly a construction of a conscious mind then maybe the time machine was merely a device that allowed the traveler to explore their own minds imagination of a prospective future. An experience akin to a deep psychedelic trip or lucid dreaming. In that case he might have thought that progress was inevitable but subconsciously knew that civilization “must inevitably fall back upon and destroy its makers in the end.” Surely some will think he’s just mad. I choose to believe the traveler’s account and take the revelation as what’s possibly to come on our current path.

“No. I cannot expect you to believe it. Take it as a lie—or a prophecy. Say I dreamed it in the workshop. Consider I have been speculating upon the destinies of our race until I have hatched this fiction. Treat my assertion of its truth as a mere stroke of art to enhance its interest. And taking it as a story, what do you think of it?"

https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/is-time-an-illusion/ 

https://medium.com/@imshub13/why-time-is-not-the-fourth-dimension-c520161ea6d9 

https://phys.org/news/2012-04-physicists-abolish-fourth-dimension-space.html 

https://books.google.com/books?id=eHT43wfyw-sC&lpg=PA1&ots=edPFq4SIKR&dq=ancient%20hours%20working%20lives&lr&pg=PA13#v=onepage&q=ancient%20hours%20working%20lives&f=false 

https://groups.csail.mit.edu/mac/users/rauch/worktime/hours_workweek.html

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4326670/

https://www.ceremade.dauphine.fr/~ekeland/lectures/Mathematical%20Models%20in%20Social%20Sciences/ursula-k-le-guin-the-ones-who-walk-away-from-omelas.pdf

https://www.nationalgeographic.com/environment/article/climate-change-predictions-2070

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#book review #story review #h.g. wells #science fiction #science #time travel #time machine #the time machine #literary quotes #literary analysis #literary fiction

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

sometimes i like to imagine a future where i write that (y/a or adult targeted) dragon book series i desperately want to, but i know that i wouldn't be able to do it without including art in the book. every time a new important character is introduced the next page would have to be a reference / art of them to Show What They Look Like

#i dont think id be able to handle like. publishing or whatever Without that #maybe that stems from my control issues maybe im just an artist at heart #but i would also need there to be a glossary and a detailed map and maybe footnotes or a basic bestiary- #but then sometimes i wonder if i'd want it to be like... a comic instead #manga style in a way??? i wouldnt color it. it'd be in b&w with only the occasional colored spread or somethin #but all of that If Possible or plausible is a very long way off which is okay its okay #ill get there ill get there #unless something changes and i want to do something Else but its been a goal for many years already #its only recently that ive buckled down on the worldbuilding and character crafting and genuinely considering the plot and themes #its a hot mess! but theres something in there! im determined to find it #its definitely a couple years yet of changing things and switchin stuff around and Thinking.... #who knows if ill ever get there! i hope i will! #but yeah it'd be a book with a bunch of art shoved in it httyd style (kinda) #bc if im gonna Make something im gonna combine my favorite hobbies as best i can #absolutely unprompted #its an exciting but daunting prospect. writing an actual Thing #mostly the plot part of it #i can craft characters i can do worldbuilding #but the plot? oof #there's this other one ive been working on since 8th grade #and its still... barely anything lmao #its for my favorite personal characters - my very first real oc my special boy light of my life but Man. #plot has hands!!! #and then ofc there's my beloved idiot squad... i want to do something for them some day maybe.... #so many ambitions so little energy... i will strive to make future me healthy enough to achieve Something we so desperately want!

[psychoticallytrans]

I believe very strongly that if you want to be an ally to marginalized groups, you should absolutely read and watch material bigoted against them.

This is because one of the big things that radicalization pipelines benefit from is the principle I've seen framed as "milk before meat", where they feed you palatable, easily digestible ideas, often with a kernel of truth, in order to work you up to the core of the bigoted ideology. If you go to the meat first, you will choke on it. This will make you more easily able to spot it when they try to feed you the milk, and more resistant because you know the meat it's building up to.

There are two keys. First, you need to start with the meat, and second, you need to read it with a sharply critical eye.

If you're looking to read something fatphobic, for example, Harry Potter may be a great mainstream example, but it's in a way that is so culturally acceptable that it can slip by if you aren't looking for it. "None For You: How Fat People Are Ruining America and the Planet and What You Can Do About It", on the other hand, is rather obvious in its biases, allowing an amateur to see them clearly for easier interrogation of the premise. Most bigoted material can be acquired by piracy or through your local library. This is one of the big reasons that libraries stock bigoted material.

Then, start noting down all of the things that the material says that seem to make sense, or that you are sure are true. There's no shame in this. Bigoted ideas are ingrained in your upbringing, and on top of this, a lot of bigots will take real problems and build on them in ways that are bigoted.

For instance, anti-immigrant sentiment in the USA is often bolstered by the fact that wages in the USA are effectively decreasing, along with job security. They say that this is because immigrants are taking the jobs, decreasing the amount of value that is available to USAmericans. To a USAmerican who does not know much about immigrants, but does know that their paycheck buys less and less, this sounds like a plausible explanation.

Then, later, look up exactly what they are saying. What are the real issues? (Racism and unchecked capitalism.) Why are they being used to bolster this argument? (Because it takes the heat off of powerful people and puts it on powerless ones, redirecting the hate to people it can more easily hurt, which satisfies the rage of the USAmerican, drives a wedge between them and immigrants, and takes heat off of the powerful.) What are real ways to tackle the real issue? (Solidarity with immigrant workers, especially undocumented ones, unions, and working for better social safety nets.) Why did I fall for that? (You did not have enough information.) Can I notice this rhetoric in the future and avoid falling for it? (Yes.)

Know that many of the ideas you encounter will be normal. Much bigotry is normal. Normal is not automatically good or right.

Know that there will be useful ideas interspersed with some bigotry. A lot of people with useful ideas have been bigots. This does not mean we must discard their ideas, nor that we must accept the bigotry. It does mean that we need to critically examine the ideas to see if they are rooted in and/or affected by the bigotry, and if it is possible to effectively remove them from their bigoted origins, or if the bigotry is so wound into the ideas that they is no longer useful if you wish to avoid harming the group the thinker was bigoted against.

This is difficult work to do. It is intellectually intensive, and emotionally exhausting. You will start seeing bigotry in all kinds of places, including media you thought of as "good" and "progressive", and that will also be emotionally exhausting and dispiriting. It will also mean that you are no longer passively absorbing those bigoted ideas because you settled on the idea that this media is "good" and that as long as you only consume "good" media, you will be free of bigoted ideas- a premise that is disturbingly popular for how incorrect it is. Knowing how to recognize and discard bigotry in works is far, far more useful than flatly refusing to consume more overtly bigoted works.

One way to make it easier is to form reading groups, so that you can lean on each other when reading something that's affecting you badly. It also means that there's more than one person processing the bigotry, so other people might notice more subtle parts of the bigotry that slipped past you in your own reading, allowing you to have a fuller picture of the book. If you can't form a reading group, more famous bigoted works often have criticism available online for you to read through. Remember to do your own research. What makes doing this so valuable is increasing your own ability to detect bigotry and to think critically about material you are consuming.

You do not have to limit yourself to traditional media, either. There are forums and social media bubbles that are hotbeds of bubbling, seething bigotry that is more extreme and repugnant than the vast majority of published work. Reading these conversations can be useful for the exact same reasons that reading overtly bigoted books, articles, letters, and essays can be, and they often contain more up to date dogwhistles. However, this is a riskier move. Social media is built to make you keep scrolling, and you can easily find yourself at your wits end and vulnerable to a bigot whose rhetoric is slightly less obvious than the others. In addition, it can be tempting to interact- at which point the bigots will either attack you or try to recruit you, both of which are damaging to you. Only read the conversations of bigots if you are well supported and have strong impulse control, and read them in small doses.

You are not immune to propaganda, but you can partially inoculate yourself into being less vulnerable by consuming it in controlled circumstances that match your ability to recognize it as such and reject it.

#long post

[seijorhi]

invidia ii

a (very belated) christmas present for my beloved wife @iwaasfairy who has, for two years straight, begged me for more shinnosuke content. i hope you like it bby! kuroo tetsurou x female reader, kuroo shinnosuke (oc) x female reader part i w.c 3.1k tw: noncon/dubcon, slight daddy kink, (forced) infidelity, yandere themes, nsfw, smut, age gap, i guess hints of breeding kink, dilf kuroo

“Why did your parents split up?”

Mid-way through pulling on a pair of old, grey sweatpants, mopping at beads of water from his shower still rolling down his bare chest, Shinnosuke throws you a curious look, but shrugs easily enough.

“They weren’t ever really ‘together’ to begin with. They tried the whole co-parenting thing to start with but mom… they never loved each other. Hell, I don’t even think they liked each other most of the time beyond–” he breaks off, his nose wrinkling in distaste. It almost makes you laugh. “Anyway, dad always said she had one foot out the door from the start. Dad was the one who stuck around to raise me.” There’s no animosity in his tone, he says it like it’s the simple truth. You’ve never met the woman, never having shown up to any of the Nekoma games, his graduation, any of it. You’ve seen a picture or two, overheard the odd phone call, but for as long as you’ve known him, the only real parent in Shin’s life has always been his dad.

If there’s anyone he idolises, it’s his father.

 Which is why the words that he says next – casting aside the damp towel in the general direction of the laundry basket (boys) and sauntering on over to join you in bed – take you entirely by surprise. “We’ll go visit her in Golden Week. I want her to meet you.”

And again, the words are just that; words. Shin kisses you, a sweet peck on your lips, and wastes no time in scooping you back into his arms and settling back with a contented sigh. They’re just words, but there’s this look in his eyes when he says it that makes you think he means something more. 

Your stomach flutters.

—

‘You really wanna break his heart like that, kitten?’

—

“Still not feeling any better?” Shin asks, brushing your hair back to feel your forehead. The beginnings of a frown start to take shape, teeth gently burrowing into his bottom lip, but he straightens and sighs, and that hint of discontent smoothes over like it had never existed in the first place. He strokes your hair again and offers a small, sympathetic smile. “No temperature, that’s gotta be a good sign, right?”

You’re a coward.

“It’s not my head, I just…” don’t have any visible, plausible symptoms for the fake illness that’s currently keeping you curled up in Shin’s bed. Away from the creep who’d smiled and fucking winked at you Christmas morning. “I just feel off.”

“Poor baby,” he coos, laughing when your face screws up and you swat at him.

Right now, swaddled in his hoodie, his fingers carding through your hair and that stupid, impish, almost believable grin beaming down at you, you want to forget. To pretend. 

Because there’s a pit in your stomach. A bitter, gnarled, seething mass. This moment right now, in Shin’s bed, it’s like glass, paper thin and already cracked, it can’t possibly last, and yet you’re clinging to it so desperately, head buried in the sand, willing yourself to pretend, from one heartbeat to the next, that what’s happened won’t break the two of you. 

That your stomach doesn’t threaten to upend when you catch sight of those hazel eyes peering down at you – the same shape and shade as his father’s.

You shudder out a breath, and what little levity there was between you two gets sucked out with it. Shin’s expression gutters.

Yeah. 

His fingers don’t leave your hair, though. Playing idly with the strands as though the suffocating tension in the room doesn’t exist at all. “Dad’s taking us out to dinner tonight,” he tells you. Reminds you, because you knew all of this beforehand. Everything but the party. “Do you want me to run by the pharmacy to get you something?”

Another tap at the fractured glass. 

That’s Shinnosuke all over, isn’t it? You might’ve been the manager back in the day, but it was always Shin who kept an eye on his team, on you, to make sure everyone was good. 

“No,” you shake your head. “I’ll–” the words get stuck in your throat. “I’ll see how I feel in an hour or so. ‘m still a little tired.” 

“You want some tea, sweetheart?”

‘Shh, sweetheart, you gotta keep it down.’

A cold sweat breaks out on the nape of your neck. No. No, no, no, no–

“Baby?”

You flinch like he’s slapped you, jerking away from the hand he’s wound in your hair. The startled look he shoots you borders on wounded, but you’re already squirming towards the edge of the bed, stumbling to your feet like a newborn foal. “Bathroom,” you manage to eke out, your voice sounding far too strangled and hoarse to pass as anywhere near the realm of fine. 

Shin doesn’t follow, doesn’t so much as utter a word – all kicked puppy confused – as you throw the door closed behind you and collapse back against it, a sweaty, ashen mess. 

He usually calls you love. Baby. Princess when he’s being a little shit. 

Sweetheart’s a rare one. 

Your heart races, a runaway train pounding in your chest. His eyes, his touch, sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart.

Another shuddering breath in. Out. 

Fuck. 

There’s a knock – not at the ensuite door, the sound’s too muffled for that, and you didn’t hear Shin’s footsteps (though you’re not sure you would, over the pounding in your ribs) meaning that the knocking’s at his door. 

There’s only one other occupant in the house. Though you try your damndest to fight it, there’s no stopping the wave of panic that stabs through you. Shin’s door creaks open, soft voices barely creeping through the gap in the door, and your fingers go rigid, nails clawing at the black and white flooring as though you can ground yourself by breaking through it instead. 

You don’t realise you’re crying.

Not until the droplets splatter on the tiles by your feet.

—

You should’ve left days ago.

After Christmas, when you’d ducked out from under Shin’s arm and lurched for the nearest bathroom, when it’d finally clicked for him that you violently hurling your guts up wasn’t the result of a simple hangover, you’d tried. Short of admitting the truth – and swinging a bat at the bees’ nest – convincing Shin to leave his dad’s place goes about as well as drawing blood from a stone. 

He’s even less thrilled about the prospect of you going back by yourself, leaving him to spend what’s left of the week with his dad like they’d planned.

There’s only so far you can push without breaking something. You, probably. You and Shin, almost definitely. 

Even so, you might’ve had more of a backbone if he hadn’t been so… Shin. All coaxing and concerned. Logical to a damn fault. 

‘You don’t wanna be stuck in a car driving for hours when you’re feeling shitty, love, and besides, dad’s place is bigger than ours. Comfier. You’ll probably be on the mend by tomorrow anyway, so there’s no point in us heading back.’

If you weren’t trying to salvage what’s left, or maybe clinging to the idea that you can – and want to – then it would’ve been easier just to go.

You wouldn’t still be here, stuck in the house of the man who’d– who’d raped you.

You wouldn’t be avoiding your boyfriend’s eye.

You would’ve screamed the whole house down before Kuroo Tetsurou ever bent you over the kitchen counter.

But the gentle extrication in the early hours of the morning, Shinnosuke’s lips brushing against your cheek, the sleepy rasp of his voice as he mumbles a quiet, “Love you,” before slipping away – you barely stir, cozy and safe and content.

He loves you. Shin loves you. 

A while later – minutes, maybe, or hours, it’s hard to tell when you’re still in the grips of sleep – the mattress dips under Shin’s weight, and those strong, sculpted arms seek your warmth again, you only sigh and lean back against him. 

“I love you,” you whisper, not yet willing to open your eyes and face another day of lying to him. 

The arm slung over your waist curls tighter, his face nuzzling into your neck. The kisses he leaves there aren’t affectionate, exactly, they’re not gentle, when teeth catch, nipping sharply at your skin, only to be soothed by a lave of his tongue.

And the laugh that rumbles at your back – a shade off your boyfriend’s – is anything but nice. 

“Yeah? Fuck, you’re sweet in the morning.”

This time, you don’t hold back. You shriek, kicking out like a wild thing – or you would have, if Kuroo’s hand hadn’t clamped down on your mouth, if his weight hadn’t shifted so that rather than lying curled up behind you, he’s half on top of you, pinning you down to the mattress with a thigh lodged between yours. 

“Uh-uh-uh, we were doing so good, kitten. Don’t you wanna be daddy’s good girl?”

Your only answer is a ragged noise, torn from somewhere deep inside of you. He chuckles again, grinds against you, his cock a thick, unignorable presence pressed at your ass. There’s nothing but the thin cotton of your sleep shorts separating it from you, and from past experience, that barrier won’t do much to deter him for long.

Kuroo rolls you onto your back and slots himself nicely between your legs. Naked, you realise with a fresh stab of fear.

You scream the moment his palm leaves your lips to capture your wrists, scream for Shinnosuke – for anyone – so loudly that it feels like you’ll bleed for it. Let him come running, find you pinned and squirming, terrified beneath the man who raised him.

Let it be the final crack that obliterates everything. 

If Shin sees you like this, utterly petrified, on the verge of being raped again and still thinks it some kind of a betrayal, let him choke on it. You don’t care anymore, you just want someone to stop this. 

(Shin wouldn’t, would he?)

But Kuroo only snickers. Leans over to lick along the edge of your lashes, where hot, glistening tears are already spilling over, trickling down to disappear in your hairline. “Your boy’s not here, but we don’t have long ‘til he gets back. You’ll forgive me if we bypass the foreplay this morning, right, sweetheart?” You shudder, goosebumps prickling where his breath washes over you, and you squeeze your eyes shut and violently – pointlessly – shake your head. “We’ll have to save eating your pretty little cunt for next time.”

All too eager, he hungrily captures your lips again and yanks down your shorts, taking your panties along with them.

Christmas morning, you’d been shoved face down over the kitchen counter while he’d fucked you from behind. You’d give anything for that distance right now. At least then you hadn’t had to endure his suffocating warmth, having him squeeze and grope at your tits over your old, threadbare tee.

You wouldn’t have to writhe away from his mouth while he rucks your bare thighs up either side of his hips, dragging you closer.

Even with your eyes screwed tightly shut, you can’t pretend that this isn’t happening as Kuroo spits and a heartbeat later the thick head of his cock slowly – agonisingly slowly – splits you apart.

You forget how to breathe. 

Eyes popping open and back arching up into his chest, your fists clutch desperately at the sheets of Shin’s bed, trying to squirm away, only the grip he has on you makes sure there’s nowhere for you to escape to. He’s big, long, mostly, and you’re too tight to take him easily, especially without any prep. The spit doesn’t help any, and Kuroo doesn’t care, groaning out in pleasure as inch by inch he pushes himself deeper, until at last he’s seated firmly inside of you. “Good fucking giiiirl,” he purrs, a kiss pressed to the tip of your nose.

A tiny, drawn out whine is all you can manage when your lower half radiates pain. 

“Gonna fuck this perfect pussy nice ‘n full,” he tells you. “Give you everything you need, sweet girl. You can take it. I know you can, you just gotta breathe for me.”

But unlike last time, he doesn’t allow you the luxury of a minute to adjust. His hips draw back and punch forward, jolting another mewling gasp from your lips. And again. And again. The pace isn’t violent so much as intense, like each thrust ignites something inside of him that burns for more.

He clasps your wrists in one hand, pants into your open mouth between frenetic kisses, groans out your name in that shuddering gasp.

“Mine,” he pants, beads of sweat dripping from his chest, his chin, rolling down onto you. “You’re daddy’s girl– fuck!”

Your cunt reacts accordingly, flexing around his cock, easing its passage so that the wet, lurid sounds of him fucking you quickly fill the air. A betrayal that has your cheeks flaming. 

The muscles in your thighs burn, Kuroo all but forcing them back towards the bed, his weight driving into you with fervour. A quick adjustment to the angle of your hip and his cock hits a spot deep inside of you that has you choking on a moan of your own, a burst of bright, sizzling pleasure bleeding through the pain.

Kuroo grins ferally at the sound of it. Drops his weight on an elbow and bucks into you, hitting it again. Your inner walls twitch, squeezing and slick, dragging noises from you that make you wanna burn with shame – that, or cut yourself loose entirely. You can’t muster resistance when he swallows them down, sucking on your tongue, moaning into your mouth. His momentum turns rabid, his hand no longer encircling your wrists, but entangled with them, pressing them down to the mattress. “Almost… there…” he grunts, gasping as he curls over you, abs flexing.

A shudder rolls through him, his hips faltering just as something vital shatters inside of you, toes curling, white hot pleasure exploding from your core, rippling through your whole body like the aftershocks of an earthquake. With your pussy spasming around his cock, your body taut and locked with pleasure, Kuroo hurtles off that cliff right alongside you, a strangled noise somewhere between a moan and a growl escaping him as he pumps your cunt full of his seed, all but collapsing atop of you afterwards.

It takes a minute before he peels himself off of you; pushing himself up, braced on elbow so that he’s not crushing you entirely, Kuroo waits, buried inside your warmth, for you to stop trembling with the after effects of your orgasm, for his cock to soften and both of your breathing to even out. 

Waits for those glazed over eyes to focus back on him and once again fill with tears, stroking a hand through your sweat-dampened hair as he does so.

“You should go take a shower before Shin gets home,” he says after a minute or two, his voice a low purr. “He can’t be far off.”

But aside from rolling off you to allow you up, Kuroo makes no moves to follow you, or so much as get up off the bed. Naked, his cock soft and glistening with your juices, one knee propped up, he watches you stumble like a newborn foal into the bathroom (only half managing to close the door behind you) with damn near predatory intent, a smirk teasing at his lips.

It’s where Shin finds you a short while later, curled up on the floor of the shower, shaking through silent sobs. 

—

Shin doesn’t let go of your hand the entire trip home.

Uncharacteristically sober, he says little aside from the occasional murmur to check in with you – always unanswered – and keeps you tucked close, as though a fraction of distance between you might pry you from his side entirely. 

The hours pass in a haze of… nothing. Your tears dry. Numbness takes over. You move like a robot, Shin guiding you every step of the way until you cross the threshold of your apartment.

He never asks what happened. You suppose the smell of sex in his bedroom and the bruises and love bites scattered over your body tell the tale well enough. Shinnosuke’s never been stupid. He’s not dense. 

He’s not heartless, either.

In the sanctity of your tiny, shitty bathroom, you shower again. A proper shower this time, with the water turned up full blast, scrubbing viciously at your skin– or at least, you do until he steps in and takes over. You’ve never thought of your boyfriend as particularly gentle, but he pries the loofah from your hand with a delicacy you didn’t know him capable of and takes care of you, cleaning you up with a tenderness that borders on reverence.

You pretend not to notice how his eyes (so like his, sharp and hazel) narrow into a scowl every time he spots another bruise, another mark left by his father. Once or twice his fingers begin to ghost over them, burgundy fingerprints on your thigh, a love bite sucked into the delicate skin above your collarbone, only to catch himself, swallowing tightly and resuming his task like he’d never faltered in the first place. 

When you’re done, he dries you both off and helps you into fresh clothes – a pair of comfy sweatpants and an old hoodie of his and guides you back to the living room, setting you down into his lap on the couch.

“I–” his voice is hoarse. Quiet, especially in the stillness of the apartment, and when you glance his way, he awkwardly clears his throat and takes a deep breath. “I went to the pharmacy. I thought– I thought…” he trails off again, dropping his gaze. “I’m such a fucking idiot.”

Your heart twists, and it’s your turn to comfort him. Or maybe you’re comforting each other, shifting slightly in his lap so that you can wrap your arms around him and draw him in close, burying your face in the crook of his neck and breathing in the fresh, clean scent of him. “No. I– it wasn’t…” but the words don’t come. You flounder. 

What are you supposed to say? It wasn’t his fault? Wasn’t yours?

You should’ve said something earlier? Should’ve fought back harder – against both of them, should’ve grown a spine?

A beat passes in the tense, thick silence, and when it becomes clear that you’ve got nothing for him, he makes an odd sort of huff that sounds almost irritated. You frown a little, but you don’t fight it when his arms pull tighter around you, when his cheek comes to a rest against your hair and his hands seek yours, curling around your wrists and stroking at the skin there. 

“We’ll get through this,” he vows. “I love you, this doesn’t change anything. It won’t change anything.” His lips meet the crown of your head in a soft kiss. “You’re mine. You’ll always be mine.”

#yandere haikyuu #yandere kuroo #yandere kuroo x reader #yandere kuroo tetsurou #yandere kuroo tetsurou x reader #oc: kuroo shinnosuke #tw: noncon

[tanadrin]

so if i am understanding this correctly, the argument is that round about 2019 somebody decided the best way to measure how well google search was doing was by absolute number of queries, and a lot of subsequent changes were made to google that were aimed at increasing that number. which had the effect of making google search suck more, because that meant people had to work harder to find stuff, which increased the amount of absolute searches people were doing. because, you know. it was harder to find stuff.

A day later, Gomes emailed Fox and Thakur an email he intended to send to Raghavan. He led by saying he was “annoyed both personally and on behalf of the search team.” in a long email, he explained how one might increase engagement with Google Search, but specifically added that they could “increase queries quite easily in the short term in user negative ways,” like turning off spell correction, turning off ranking improvements, or placing refinements — effectively labels — all over the page, adding that it was “possible that there are trade offs here between different kinds of user negativity caused by engagement hacking,” and that he was “deeply deeply uncomfortable with this.” He also added that this was the reason he didn’t believe that queries were a good metric to measure search and that the best defense about the weakness of queries was to create “compelling user experiences that make users want to come back.” In the March 2019 core update to search, which happened about a week before the end of the code yellow, was expected to be “one of the largest updates to search in a very long time. Yet when it launched, many found that the update mostly rolled back changes, and traffic was increasing to sites that had previously been suppressed by Google Search’s “Penguin” update from 2012 that specifically targeted spammy search results, as well as those hit by an update from an August 1, 2018, a few months after Gomes became Head of Search. While I’m guessing, the timing of the March 2019 core update, along with the traffic increases to previously-suppressed sites, heavily suggests that Google’s response to the Code Yellow was to roll back changes that were made to maintain the quality of search results.

which seems like a pretty plausible, if stupid, way to fuck up your product!

[yamayuandadu]

The most important deity you've never heard of: the 3000 years long history of Nanaya

Being a major deity is not necessarily a guarantee of being remembered. Nanaya survived for longer than any other Mesopotamian deity, spread further away from her original home than any of her peers, and even briefly competed with both Buddha and Jesus for relevance. At the same time, even in scholarship she is often treated as unworthy of study. She has no popculture presence save for an atrocious, ill-informed SCP story which can’t get the most basic details right. Her claims to fame include starring in fairly explicit love poetry and appearing where nobody would expect her. Therefore, she is the ideal topic to discuss on this blog. This is actually the longest article I published here, the culmination of over two years of research. By now, the overwhelming majority of Nanaya-related articles on wikipedia are my work, and what you can find under the cut is essentially a synthesis of what I have learned while getting there. I hope you will enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed working on it. Under the cut, you will learn everything there is to know about Nanaya: her origin, character, connections with other Mesopotamian deities, her role in literature, her cult centers… Since her history does not end with cuneiform, naturally the later text corpora - Aramaic, Bactrian, Sogdian and even Chinese - are discussed too. The article concludes with a short explanation why I see the study of Nanaya as crucial.

Dubious origins and scribal wordplays: from na-na to Nanaya Long ago Samuel Noah Kramer said that “history begins in Sumer”. While the core sentiment was not wrong in many regards, in this case it might actually begin in Akkad, specifically in Gasur, close to modern Kirkuk. The oldest possible attestation of Nanaya are personal names from this city with the element na-na, dated roughly to the reign of Naram-Sin of Akkad, so to around 2250 BCE. It’s not marked in the way names of deities in personal names would usually be, but this would not be an isolated case.

The evidence is ultimately mixed. On one hand, reduplicated names like Nana are not unusual in early Akkadian sources, and -ya can plausibly be explained as a hypocoristic suffix. On the other hand, there is not much evidence for Nanaya being worshiped specifically in the far northeast of Mesopotamia in other periods. Yet another issue is that there is seemingly no root nan- in Akkadian, at least in any attested words.

The main competing proposal is that Nanaya originally arose as a hypostasis of Inanna but eventually split off through metaphorical mitosis, like a few other goddesses did, for example Annunitum. This is not entirely implausible either, but ultimately direct evidence is lacking, and when Nanaya pops up for the first time in history she is clearly a distinct goddess.

There are a few other proposals regarding Nanaya’s origin, but they are considerably weaker. Elamite has the promising term nan, “day” or “morning”, but Nanaya is entirely absent from the Old Elamite sources you’d expect to find her in if Mesopotamians imported her from the east. Therefore, very few authors adhere to this view. The hypothesis that she was an Aramaic goddess in origin does not really work chronologically, since Aramaic is not attested in the third millennium BCE at all. The less said about attempts to connect her to anything “Proto-Indo-European”, the better.

Like many other names of deities, Nanaya’s was already a subject of etymological speculation in antiquity. A late annotated version of the Weidner god list, tablet BM 62741, preserves a scribe’s speculative attempt at deriving it from the basic meaning of the sign NA, “to call”, furnished with a feminine suffix, A. Needless to say, like other such examples of scribal speculation, some of which are closer to playful word play than linguistics, it is unlikely to reflect the actual origin of the name.

Early history: Shulgi-simti, Nanaya’s earliest recorded #1 fan

A typical Ur III administrative tablet listing offerings to various deities (wikimedia commons)

The first absolutely certain attestations of Nanaya, now firmly under her full name, have been identified in texts from the famous archive from Puzrish-Dagan, modern Drehem, dated to around 2100 BCE. Much can be written about this site, but here it will suffice to say that it was a center of the royal administration of the Third Dynasty of Ur ("Ur III") responsible for the distribution of sacrificial animals. Nanaya appears there in a rather unique context - she was one of the deities whose cults were patronized by queen Shulgi-simti, one of the wives of Shulgi, the successor of the dynasty’s founder Ur-Namma. We do not know much about Shulgi-simti as a person - she did not write any official inscriptions announcing her preferred foreign policy or letters to relatives or poetry or anything else that typically can be used to gain a glimpse into the personal lives of Mesopotamian royalty. We’re not really sure where she came from, though Eshnunna is often suggested as her hometown. We actually do not even know what her original name was, as it is assumed she only came to be known as Shulgi-simti after becoming a member of the royal family. Tonia Sharlach suggested that the absence of information about her personal life might indicate that she was a commoner, and that her marriage to Shulgi was not politically motivated The one sphere of Shulgi-simti’s life which we are incredibly familiar with are her religious ventures. She evidently had an eye for minor, foreign or otherwise unusual goddesses, such as Belet-Terraban or Nanaya. She apparently ran what Sharlach in her “biography” of her has characterized as a foundation. It was tasked with sponsoring various religious celebrations. Since Shulgi-simti seemingly had no estate to speak of, most of the relevant documents indicate she procured offerings from a variety of unexpected sources, including courtiers and other members of the royal family. The scale of her operations was tiny: while the more official religious organizations dealt with hundreds or thousands of sacrificial animals, up to fifty or even seventy thousand sheep and goats in the case of royal administration, the highest recorded number at her disposal seems to be eight oxen and fifty nine sheep. A further peculiarity of the “foundation” is that apparently there was a huge turnover rate among the officials tasked with maintaining it. It seems nobody really lasted there for much more than four years. There are two possible explanations: either Shulgi-simti was unusually difficult to work with, or the position was not considered particularly prestigious and was, at the absolute best, viewed as a stepping stone. While the Shulgi-simti texts are the earliest evidence for worship of Nanaya in the Ur III court, they are actually not isolated. When all the evidence from the reigns of Shulgi and his successors is summarized, it turns out that she quickly attained a prominent role, as she is among the twelve deities who received the most offerings. However, her worship was seemingly limited to Uruk (in her own sanctuary), Nippur (in the temple of Enlil, Ekur) and Ur. Granted, these were coincidentally three of the most important cities in the entire empire, so that’s a pretty solid early section of a divine resume. She chiefly appears in two types of ceremonies: these tied to the royal court, or these mostly performed by or for women. Notably, a festival involving lamentations (girrānum) was held in her honor in Uruk. To understand Nanaya’s presence in the two aforementioned contexts, and by extension her persistence in Mesopotamian religion in later periods, we need to first look into her character.

The character of Nanaya: eroticism, kingship, and disputed astral ventures

Corona Borealis (wikimedia commons)

Nanaya’s character is reasonably well defined in primary sources, but surprisingly she was almost entirely ignored in scholarship quite recently. The first study of her which holds up to scrutiny is probably Joan Goodnick Westenholz’s article Nanaya, Lady of Mystery from 1997. The core issue is the alleged interchangeability of goddesses. From the early days of Assyriology basically up to the 1980s, Nanaya was held to be basically fully interchangeable with Inanna. This obviously put her in a tough spot. Still, over the course of the past three decades the overwhelming majority of studies came to recognize Nanaya as a distinct goddess worthy of study in her own right. You will still stumble upon the occasional “Nanaya is basically Inanna”, but now this is a minority position. Tragically it’s not extinct yet, most recently I’ve seen it in a monograph published earlier this year. With these methodological and ideological issues out of the way, let’s actually look into Nanaya’s character, as promised by the title of this section. Her original role was that of a goddess of love. It is already attested for her at the dawn of her history, in the Ur III period. Her primary quality was described with a term rendered as ḫili in Sumerian and kuzbu in Akkadian. It can be variously translated as “charm”, “luxuriance”, “voluptuousness”, “sensuality” or “sexual attractiveness”. This characteristic was highlighted by her epithet bēlet kuzbi (“lady of kuzbu”) and by the name of her cella in the Eanna, Eḫilianna. The connection was so strong that this term appears basically in every single royal inscription praising her. She was also called bēlet râmi, “lady of love”. Nanaya’s role as a love goddess is often paired with describing her as a “joyful” or “charming” deity. It needs to be stressed that Nanaya was by no metric the goddess of some abstract, cosmic love or anything like that. Love incantations and prayers related to love are quite common, and give us a solid glimpse into this matter. Nanaya’s range of activity in them is defined pretty directly: she deals with relationships (and by extension also with matters like one-sided crushes or arguments between spouses), romance and with strictly sexual matters. For an example of a hymn highlighting her qualifications when it comes to the last category, see here. The text is explicit, obviously. We can go deeper, though. There is also an incantation whose incipit at first glance leaves little to imagination:

However, the translator, Giole Zisa, notes there is some debate over whether it’s actually about having sex with Nanaya or merely about invoking her (and other deities) while having sex with someone else. A distinct third possibility is that she’s not even properly invoked but that “oh, Nanaya” is simply an exclamation of excitement meant to fit the atmosphere, like a specialized version of the mainstay of modern erotica dialogue, “oh god”.

While this romantic and sexual aspect of Nanaya’s character is obviously impossible to overlook, this is not all there was to her. She was also associated with kingship, as already documented in the Ur III period. She was invoked during coronations and mourning of deceased kings. In the Old Babylonian period she was linked to investiture by rulers of newly independent Uruk. A topic which has stirred some controversy in scholarship is Nanaya’s supposed astral role. Modern authors who try to present Nanaya as a Venus deity fall back on rather faulty reasoning, namely asserting that if Nanaya was associated with Inanna and Inanna personified Venus, clearly Nanaya did too. Of course, being associated with Inanna does not guarantee the same traits. Shaushka was associated with her so closely her name was written with the logogram representing her counterpart quite often, and lacked astral aspects altogether. No primary sources which discuss Nanaya as a distinct, actively worshiped deity actually link her with Venus. If you stretch it you will find some tidbits like an entry in a dictionary prepared by the 10th century bishop Hasan bar Bahlul, who inexplicably asserted Nanaya was the Arabic name of the planet Venus. As you will see soon, there isn’t even a possibility that this reflected a relic of interpretatio graeca. The early Mandaean sources, many of which were written when at least remnants of ancient Mesopotamian religion were still extant, also do not link Nanaya with Venus. Despite at best ambivalent attitude towards Mesopotamian deities, they show remarkable attention to detail when it comes to listing their cult centers, and on top of that Mesopotamian astronomy had a considerable impact on Mandaeism, so there is no reason not to prioritize them, as far as I am concerned. As far as the ancient Mesopotamian sources themselves go, the only astral object with a direct connection to Nanaya was Corona Borealis (BAL.TÉŠ.A, “Dignity”), as attested in the astronomical compendium MUL.APIN. Note that this is a work which assigns astral counterparts to virtually any deity possible, though, and there is no indication this was a major part of Nanaya’s character. Save for this single instance, she is entirely absent from astronomical texts. A further astral possibility is that Nanaya was associated with the moon. The earliest evidence is highly ambiguous: in the Ur III period festivals held in her honor might have been tied to phases of the moon, while in the Old Babylonian period a sanctuary dedicated to her located in Larsa was known under the ceremonial name Eitida, “house of the month”. A poem in which looking at her is compared to looking at the moon is also known. That’s not all, though. Starting with the Old Babylonian period, she could also be compared with the sun. Possibly such comparisons were meant to present her as an astral deity, without necessarily identifying her with a specific astral body. Michael P. Streck and Nathan Wasserman suggest that it might be optimal to simply refer to her as a “luminous” deity in this context. However, as you will see later it nonetheless does seem she eventually came to be firmly associated both with the sun and the moon. Last but not least, Nanaya occasionally displayed warlike traits. It’s hardly major in her case, and if you tried hard enough you could turn any deity into a war deity depending on your political goals, though. I’d also place the incantation which casts her as one of the deities responsible for keeping the demon Lamashtu at bay here.

Nanaya in art

The oldest known depiction of Nanaya (wikimedia commons)

While Nanaya’s roles are pretty well defined, there surprisingly isn’t much to say about her iconography in Mesopotamian art.The oldest certain surviving depiction of her is rather indistinct: she’s wearing a tall headdress and a flounced robe. It dates to the late Kassite period (so roughly to 1200 BCE), and shows her alongside king Meli-Shipak (or maybe Meli-Shihu, reading remains uncertain) and his daughter Hunnubat-Nanaya. Nanaya is apparently invoked to guarantee that the prebend granted to the princess will be under divine protection. This is not really some unique prerogative of hers, perhaps she was just the most appropriate choice because Hunnubat-Nanaya’s name obviously reflects devotion to her. The relief discussed above is actually the only depiction of Nanaya identified with certainty from before the Hellenistic period, surprisingly. We know that statues representing her existed, and it is hard to imagine that a popular, commonly worshiped deity was not depicted on objects like terracotta decorations and cylinder seals, but even if some of these were discovered, there’s no way to identify them with certainty. This is not unusual though, and ultimately there aren’t many Mesopotamian deities who can be identified in art without any ambiguity. 

Nanaya in literature

As I highlighted in the section dealing with Nanaya’s character, she is reasonably well attested in love poetry. However, this is not the only genre in which she played a role. A true testament to Nanaya’s prominence is a bilingual (Sumero-Akkadian) hymn composed in her honor in the first millennium BCE. It is written in the first person, and presents various other goddesses as her alternate identities. It is hardly unique, and similar compositions dedicated to Ishtar (Inanna), Gula, Ninurta and Marduk are also known. Each strophe describes a different deity and location, but ends with Nanaya reasserting her actual identity with the words “still I am Nanaya”. Among the claimed identities included are both major goddesses in their own right (Inanna plus closely associated Annunitum and Ishara, Gula, Bau, Ninlil), goddesses relevant due to their spousal roles first and foremost (Damkina, Shala, Mammitum etc) and some truly unexpected, picks, the notoriously elusive personified rainbow Manzat being the prime example. Most of them had very little in common with Nanaya, so this might be less an attempt at syncretism, and more an elevation of her position through comparisons to those of other goddesses. An additional possible literary curiosity is a poorly preserved myth which Wilfred G. Lambert referred to as “The murder of Anshar”. He argues that Nanaya is one of the two deities responsible for the eponymous act. I don't quite follow the logic, though: the goddess is actually named Ninamakalamma (“Lady mother of the land”), and her sole connection with Nanaya is that they occur in sequence in the unique god list from Sultantepe. Lambert saw this as a possible indication they are identical. There are no other attestations of this name, but ama kalamma does occur as an epithet of various goddesses, most notably Ninshubur. Given her juxtaposition with Nanaya in the Weidner god list - more on that later - wouldn’t it make more sense to assume it’s her? Due to obscurity of the text as far as I am aware nobody has questioned Lambert’s tentative proposal yet, though.

There isn’t much to say about the plot: Anshar, literally “whole heaven”, the father of Anu, presumably gets overthrown and might be subsequently killed. Something that needs to be stressed here to avoid misinterpretation: primordial deities such as Anshar were borderline irrelevant, and weren't really worshiped. They exist to fade away in myths and to be speculated about in elaborate lexical texts. There was no deposed cult of Anshar. Same goes for all the Tiamats and Enmesharras and so on.

Inanna and beyond: Nanaya and friends in Mesopotamian sources

Inanna on a cylinder seal from the second half of the third millennium BCE (wikimedia commons)

Of course, Nanaya’s single most important connection was that to Inanna, no matter if we are to accept the view that she was effectively a hypostasis gone rogue or not. The relationship between them could be represented in many different ways. Quite commonly she was understood as a courtier or protegee of Inanna. A hymn from the reign of Ishbi-Erra calls her the “ornament of Eanna” (Inanna’s main temple in Uruk) and states she was appointed by Inanna to her position. References to Inanna as Nanaya’s mother are also known, though they are rare, and might be metaphorical. To my best knowledge nothing changed since Olga Drewnowska-Rymarz’s monograph, in which she notes she only found three examples of texts preserving this tradition. I would personally abstain from trying to read too deep into it, given this scarcity. Other traditions regarding Nanaya’s parentage are better attested. In multiple cases, she “borrows” Inanna’s conventional genealogy, and as a result is addressed as a daughter of Sin (Nanna), the moon god. However, she was never addressed as Inanna’s sister: it seems that in cases where Sin and Nanaya are connected, she effectively “usurps” Inanna’s own status as his daughter (and as the sister of Shamash, while at it). Alternatively, she could be viewed as a daughter of Anu. Finally, there is a peculiar tradition which was the default in laments: in this case, Nanaya was described as a daughter of Urash. The name in this context does not refer to the wife of Anu, though. The deity meant is instead a small time farmer god from Dilbat. To my best knowledge no sources place Nanaya in the proximity of other members of Urash’s family, though some do specify she was his firstborn daughter. To my best knowledge Urash had at least two other children, Lagamal (“no mercy”, an underworld deity whose gender is a matter of debate) and Ipte-bitam (“he opened the house”, as you can probably guess a divine doorkeeper). Nanaya’s mother by extension would presumably be Urash’s wife Ninegal, the tutelary goddess of royal palaces. There is actually a ritual text listing these three together. In the Weidner god list Nanaya appears after Ninshubur. Sadly, I found no evidence for a direct association between these two. For what it’s worth, they did share a highly specific role, that of a deity responsible for ordering around lamma. This term referred to a class of minor deities who can be understood as analogous to “guardian angels” in contemporary Christianity, except places and even deities had their own lamma too, not just people. Lamma can also be understood at once as a class of distinct minor deities, as the given name of individual members of it, and as a title of major deities. In an inscription of Gudea the main members of the official pantheon are addressed as “lamma of all nations”, by far one of my favorite collective terms of deities in Mesopotamian literature. A second important aspect of the Weidner god list is placing Nanaya right in front of Bizilla. The two also appear side by side in some offering lists and in the astronomical compendium MUL.APIN, where they are curiously listed as members of the court of Enlil. It seems that like Nanaya, she was a goddess of love, which is presumably reflected by her name. It has been variously translated as “pleasing”, “loving” or as a derivative of the verb “to strip”. An argument can be made that Bizilla was to Nanaya what Nanaya was to Inanna. However, she also had a few roles of her own. Most notably, she was regarded as the sukkal of Ninlil. She may or may not also have had some sort of connection to Nungal, the goddess of prisons, though it remains a matter of debate if it’s really her or yet another, accidentally similarly named, goddess.

An indistinct Hurro-Hittite depiction of Ishara from the Yazilikaya sanctuary (wikimedia commons)

In love incantations, Nanaya belonged to an informal group which also included Inanna, Ishara, Kanisurra and Gazbaba. I do not think Inanna’s presence needs to be explained. Ishara had an independent connection with Inanna and was a multi-purpose deity to put it very lightly; in the realm of love she was particularly strongly connected with weddings and wedding nights. Kanisurra and Gazbaba warrant a bit more discussion, because they are arguably Nanaya’s supporting cast first and foremost. Gazbaba is, at the core, seemingly simply the personification of kuzbu. Her name had pretty inconsistent orthography, and variants such as Kazba or Gazbaya can be found in primary sources too. The last of them pretty clearly reflects an attempt at making her name resemble Nanaya’s. Not much can be said about her individual character beyond the fact she was doubtlessly related to love and/or sex. She is described as the “grinning one” in an incantation which might be a sexual allusion too, seeing as such expressions are a mainstay of Akkadian erotic poetry. Kanisurra would probably win the award for the fakest sounding Mesopotamian goddess, if such a competition existed. Her name most likely originated as a designation of the gate of the underworld, ganzer. Her default epithet was “lady of the witches” (bēlet kaššāpāti). And on top of that, like Nanaya and Gazbaba she was associated with sex. She certainly sounds more like a contemporary edgy oc of the Enoby Dimentia Raven Way variety than a bronze age goddess - and yet, she is completely genuine. It is commonly argued Kanisurra and Gazbaba were regarded as Nanaya’s daughters, but there is actually no direct evidence for this. In the only text where their relation to Nanaya is clearly defined they are described as her hairdressers, rather than children. While in some cases the love goddesses appear in love incantations in company of each other almost as if they were some sort of disastrous polycule, occasionally Nanaya is accompanied in them by an anonymous spouse. Together they occur in parallel with Inanna and Dumuzi and Ishara and Almanu, apparently a (accidental?) deification of a term referring to someone without family obligations. There is only one Old Babylonian source which actually assigns a specific identity to Nanaya’s spouse, a hymn dedicated to king Abi-eshuh of Babylon. An otherwise largely unknown god Muati (I patched up his wiki article just for the sake of this blog post) plays this role here. The text presents a curious case of reversal of gender roles: Muati is asked to intercede with Nanaya on behalf of petitioners. Usually this was the role of the wife - the best known case is Aya, the wife of Shamash, who is implored to do just that by Ninsun in the standard edition of the Epic of Gilgamesh. It’s also attested for goddesses such as Laz, Shala, Ninegal or Ninmug… and in the case of Inanna, for Ninshubur.

A Neo-Assyrian statue of Nabu on display in the Iraq Museum (wikimedia commons)

Marten Stol seems to treat Muati and Nabu as virtually the same deity, and on this basis states that Nanaya was already associated with the latter in the Old Babylonian period, but this seems to be a minority position. Other authors pretty consistently assume that Muati was a distinct deity at some point “absorbed” by Nabu. The oldest example of pairing Nanaya with Nabu I am aware of is an inscription dated to the reign of Marduk-apla-iddina I, so roughly to the first half of the twelfth century BCE. The rise of this tradition in the first millennium BCE was less theological and more political. With Babylon once again emerging as a preeminent power, local theologies were supposed to be subordinated to the one followed in the dominant city. Which, at the time, was focused on Nabu, Marduk and Zarpanit. Worth noting that Nabu also had a spouse before, Tashmetum (“reconciliation”). In the long run she was more or less ousted by Nanaya from some locations, though she retained popularity in the north, in Assyria. She is not exactly the most thrilling deity to discuss. I will confess I do not find the developments tied to Nanaya and Nabu to be particularly interesting to cover, but in the long run they might have resulted in Nanaya acquiring probably the single most interesting “supporting cast member” she did not share with Inanna, so we’ll come back to this later. Save for Bizilla, Nanaya generally was not provided with “equivalents” in god lists. I am only aware of one exception, and it’s a very recent discovery. Last year the first ever Akkadian-Amorite bilingual lists were published. This is obviously a breakthrough discovery, as before Amorite was largely known just from personal names despite being a vernacular language over much of the region in the bronze age, but only one line is ultimately of note here. In a section of one of the lists dealing with deities, Nanaya’s Amorite counterpart is said to be Pidray. This goddess is otherwise almost exclusively known from Ugarit. This of course fits very well with the new evidence: recent research generally stresses that Ugarit was quintessentially an Amorite city (the ruling house even claimed descent from mythical Ditanu, who is best known from the grandiose fictional genealogies of Shamshi-Adad I and the First Dynasty of Babylon). Sadly, we do not know how the inhabitants of Ugarit viewed Nanaya. A trilingual version of the Weidner list, with the original version furnished with columns listing Ugaritic and Hurrian counterparts of each deity, was in circulation, but the available copies are too heavily damaged to restore it fully. And to make things worse, much of it seems to boil down to scribal wordplay and there is no guarantee all of the correspondences are motivated theologically. For instance, the minor Mesopotamian goddess Imzuanna is presented as the counterpart of Ugaritic weather god Baal because her name contains a sign used as a shortened logographic writing of the latter. An even funnier case is the awkward attempt at making it clear the Ugaritic sun deity Shapash, who was female, is not a lesbian… by making Aya male. Just astonishing, really.

The worship of Nanaya

A speculative reconstruction of Ur III Uruk with the Eanna temple visible in the center (Artefacts — Scientific Illustration & Archaeological Reconstruction; reproduced here for educational purposes only, as permitted)

Rather fittingly, as a deity associated with Inanna, Nanaya was worshiped chiefly in Uruk. She is also reasonably well attested in the inscriptions of the short-lived local dynasty which regained independence near the end of the period of domination of Larsa over Lower Mesopotamia. A priest named after her, a certain Iddin-Nanaya, for a time served as the administrator of her temple, the Enmeurur, “house which gathers all the me,” me being a difficult to translate term, something like “divine powers”. The acquisition of new me is a common topic in Mesopotamian literature, and in compositions focused on Inanna in particular, so it should not be surprising to anyone that her peculiar double seemingly had similar interests. In addition to Uruk, as well as Nippur and Ur, after the Ur III period Nanaya spread to multiple other cities, including Isin, Mari, Babylon and Kish. However, she is probably by far the best attested in Larsa, where she rose to the rank of one of the main deities, next to Utu, Inanna, Ishkur and Nergal. She had her own temple, the Eshahulla, “house of a happy heart”. In local tradition Inanna got to keep her role as an “universal” major goddess and her military prerogatives, but Nanaya overtook the role of a goddess of love almost fully. Inanna’s astral aspect was also locally downplayed, since Venus was instead represented in the local pantheon by closely associated, but firmly distinct, Ninsianna. This deity warrants some more discussion in the future just due to having a solid claim to being one of the first genderfluid literary figures in history, but due to space constraints this cannot be covered in detail here. A later inscription from the same city differentiates between Nanaya and Inanna by giving them different epithets: Nanaya is the “queen of Uruk and Eanna” (effectively usurping Nanaya’s role) while Inanna is the “queen of Nippur” (that’s actually a well documented hypostasis of her, not to be confused with the unrelated “lady of Nippur”). Uruk was temporarily abandoned in the late Old Babylonian period, but that did not end Nanaya’s career. Like Inanna, she came to be temporarily relocated to Kish. It has been suggested that a reference to her residence in “Kiššina” in a Hurro-Hittite literary text, the Tale of Appu, reflects her temporary stay there. The next centuries of Nanaya are difficult to reconstruct due to scarce evidence, but it is clear she continued to be worshiped in Uruk. By the Neo-Babylonian period she was recognized as a member of an informal pentad of the main deities of the city, next to Inanna, Urkayitu, Usur-amassu and Beltu-sa-Resh. Two of them warrant no further discussion: Urkayitu was most likely a personification of the city, and Beltu-sa-Resh despite her position is still a mystery to researchers. Usur-amassu, on the contrary, is herself a fascinating topic. First attestations of this deity, who was seemingly associated with law and justice (a pretty standard concern), come back to the Old Babylonian period. At this point, Usur-amassu was clearly male, which is reflected by the name. He appears in the god list An = Anum as a son of the weather deity couple par excellence, Adad (Ishkur) and Shala. However, by the early first millennium BCE Usur-amassu instead came to be regarded as female - without losing the connection to her parents. She did however gain a connection to Inanna, Nanaya and Kanisurra, which she lacked earlier. How come remains unknown. Most curiously her name was not modified to reflect her new gender, though she could be provided with a determinative indicating it. This recalls the case of Lagamal in the kingdom of Mari some 800 years earlier.

The end of the beginning: Nanaya under Achaemenids and Seleucids

Trilingual (Persian, Elamite and Akkadian) inscription of the first Achamenid ruler of Mesopotamia, Cyrus (wikimedia commons)

After the fall of the Neo-Babylonian Empire Mesopotamia ended up under Achaemenid control, which in turn was replaced by the Seleucids. Nanaya flourished through both of these periods. In particular, she attained considerable popularity among Arameans. While they almost definitely first encountered her in Uruk, she quickly came to be venerated by them in many distant locations, like Palmyra, Hatra and Dura Europos in Syria. She even appears in a single Achaemenid Aramaic papyrus discovered in Elephantine in Egypt. It indicates that she was worshiped there by a community which originated in Rash, an area east to the Tigris. As a curiosity it’s worth mentioning the same source is one of the only attestations of Pidray from outside Ugarit. I do not think this has anything to do with the recently discovered connection between her and Nanaya… but you may never know. Under the Seleucids, Nanaya went through a particularly puzzling process of partial syncretism. Through interpretatio graeca she was identified with… Artemis. How did this work? The key to understanding this is the fact Seleucids actually had a somewhat limited interest in local deities. All that was necessary was to find relatively major members of the local pantheon who could roughly correspond to the tutelary deities of their dynasty: Zeus, Apollo and Artemis. Zeus found an obvious counterpart in Marduk (even though Marduk was hardly a weather god). Since Nabu was Marduk’s son, he got to be Apollo. And since Nanaya was the most major goddess connected to Nabu, she got to be Artemis. It really doesn’t go deeper than that. For what it’s worth, despite the clear difference in character this newfound association did impact Nanaya in at least one way: she started to be depicted with attributes borrowed from Artemis, namely a bow and a crescent. Or perhaps these attributes were already associated with her, but came to the forefront because of the new role. The Artemis-like image of Nanaya as an archer is attested on coins, especially in Susa, yet another city where she attained considerable popularity.

Leaving Mesopotamia: Nanaya and the death of cuneiform

A Parthian statue of Nanaya with a crescent diadem (Louvre; reproduced here for educational purposes only. Identification follows Andrea Sinclair's proposal)

The Seleucid dynasty was eventually replaced by the Parthians. This period is often considered a symbolic end of ancient Mesopotamian religion in the strict sense. Traditional religious institutions were already slowly collapsing in Achaemenid and Seleucid times as the new dynasties had limited interest in royal patronage. Additionally, cuneiform fell out of use, and by the end of the first half of the first millennium CE the art of reading and writing it was entirely lost. This process did not happen equally quickly everywhere, obviously, and some deities fared better than others in the transitional period before the rise of Christianity and Islam as the dominant religions across the region. Nanaya was definitely one of them, at least for a time. In Parthian art Nanaya might have developed a distinct iconography: it has been argued she was portrayed as a nude figure wearing only some jewelry (including what appears to be a navel piercing and a diadem with a crescent. The best known example is probably this standing figure, one of my all time favorite works of Mesopotamian art:

Parthian Nanaya (wikimedia commons; identification courtesy of the Louvre website and J. G. Westenholz)

For years Wikipedia had this statue mislabeled as “Astarte” which makes little sense considering it comes from a necropolis near Babylon. There was also a viral horny tweet which labeled it as “Asherah” a few months ago (I won’t link it but I will point out in addition to getting the name wrong op also severely underestimated the size). This is obviously even worse nonsense both on spatial and temporal grounds. Even if the biblical Asherah was ever an actual deity like Ugaritic Athirat and Mesopotamian Ashratum, it is highly dubious she would still be worshiped by the time this statue was made. It’s not even certain she ever was a deity, though. Cognate of a theonym is not automatically a theonym itself, and the Ugaritic texts and the Bible, even if they share some topoi, are separated by centuries and a considerable distance. This is not an Asherah post though, so if this is a topic which interests you I recommend downloading Steve A. Wiggins’ excellent monograph A Reassessment of Asherah: With Further Considerations of the Goddess.

The last evidence for the worship of Nanaya in Mesopotamia is a Mandaean spell from Nippur, dated to the fifth or sixth century CE. However, at this point Nanaya must have been a very faint memory around these parts, since the figure designated by this name is evidently male in this formula. That was not the end of her career, though. The system of beliefs she originated and thrived in was on its way out, but there were new frontiers to explore. A small disgression is in order here: be INCREDIBLY wary of claims about the survival of Mesopotamian tradition in Mesopotamia itself past the early middle ages. Most if not all of these come from the writing of Simo Parpola, who is a 19th century style hyperdiffusionist driven by personal religious beliefs based on gnostic christianity, which he believes was based on Neo-Assyrian state religion, which he misinterprets as monotheism, or rather proto-christianity specifically (I wish I was making this up). I personally do not think a person like that should be tolerated in serious academia, but for some incomprehensible reason that isn’t the case. 

New frontiers: Nanaya in Bactria

The key to Nanaya’s extraordinarily long survival wasn’t the dedication to her in Mesopotamia, surprisingly. It was instead her introduction to Bactria, a historical area in Central Asia roughly corresponding to parts of modern Afghanistan, Tajikistan and Uzbekistan. The early history of this area is still poorly known, though it is known that it was one of the “cradles of civilization” not unlike Mesopotamia, the Indus Valley or Mesoamerica. The so-called “Oxus civilization” or “Bactria-Margiana Archaeological Complex” flourished around 2500-1950 BCE (so roughly contemporarily with the Akkadian and Ur III empires in Mesopotamia). It left behind no written records, but their art and architecture are highly distinctive and reflect great social complexity. I sadly can’t spent much time discussing them here though, as they are completely irrelevant to the history of Nanaya (there is a theory that she was already introduced to the east when BMAC was extant but it is incredibly implausible), so I will limit myself to showing you my favorite related work of art, the “Bactrian princess”:

Photo courtesy of Louvre Abu Dhabi, reproduced here for educational purposes only.

By late antiquity, which is the period we are concerned with here, BMAC was long gone, and most of the inhabitants of Bactria spoke Bactrian, an extinct Iranian language. How exactly they were related to their BMAC forerunners is uncertain. Their religious beliefs can be compared to Zoroastrianism, or rather with its less formalized forerunners followed by most speakers of Iranian languages before the rise of Zoroaster. However, there were many local peculiarities. For example, the main deity was the personified river Oxus, not Ahura Mazda. Whether this was a relic of BMAC religion is impossible to tell.We do not know exactly when the eastward transfer of Nanaya to Bactria happened. The first clear evidence for her presence in central Asia comes from the late first century BCE, from the coins of local rulers, Sapadbizes and Agesiles. It is possible that her depictions on coinage of Mesopotamian and Persian rulers facilitated her spread. Of course, it’s also important to remember that the Aramaic script and language spread far to the east in the Achaemenid period already, and that many of the now extinct Central Asian scripts were derived from it (Bactrian was written with the Greek script, though). Doubtlessly many now lost Aramaic texts were transferred to the east. There’s an emerging view that for unclear reasons, under the Achaemenids Mesopotamian culture as a whole had unparalleled impact on Bactria. The key piece of evidence are Bactrian temples, which often resemble Mesopotamian ones. Therefore, perhaps we should be wondering not why Nanaya spread from Mesopotamia to Central Asia, but rather why there were no other deities who did, for the most part. That is sadly a question I cannot answer. Something about Nanaya simply made her uniquely appealing to many groups at once. While much about the early history of Nanaya in Central Asia is a mystery, it is evident that with time she ceased to be viewed as a foreign deity. For the inhabitants of Bactria she wasn’t any less “authentically Iranian” than the personified Oxus or their versions of the conventional yazatas like Sraosha. Frequently arguments are made that Nanaya’s widespread adoption and popularity could only be the result of identification between her and another deity.Anahita in particular is commonly held to be a candidate. However, as stressed by recent studies there’s actually no evidence for this. What is true is that Anahita is notably missing from the eastern Iranian sources, despite being prominent in the west from the reign of the Achaemenid emperor Artaxerxes II onward. However, it is clear that not all yazatas were equally popular in each area - pantheons will inevitably be localized in each culture. Furthermore, Anahita’s character has very little in common with Nanaya save for gender. Whether we are discussing her early not quite Zoroastrian form the Achaemenid public was familiar with or the contemporary yazata still relevant in modern Zoroastrianism, the connection to water is the most important feature of her. Nanaya didn’t have such a role in any culture. Recently some authors suggested a much more obvious explanation for Anahita’s absence from the eastern Iranian pantheon(s). As I said, eastern Iranian communities venerated the river Oxus as a deity (or as a yazata, if you will). He was the water god par excellence, and in Bactria also the king of the gods. It is therefore quite possible that Anahita, despite royal backing from the west, simply couldn’t compete with him. Their roles overlapped more than the roles of Anahita and Nanaya. I am repeating myself but the notion of interchangeability of goddesses really needs to be distrusted almost automatically, no matter how entrenched it wouldn’t be. While we’re at it, the notion of alleged interchangeability between Anahita and Ishtar is also highly dubious, but that’s a topic for another time.

Nana (Nanaya) on a coin of Kanishka (wikimedia commons)

Nanaya experienced a period of almost unparalleled prosperity with the rise of the Kushan dynasty in Bactria. The Kushans were one of the groups which following Chinese sources are referred to as Yuezhi. They probably did not speak any Iranian language originally, and their origin is a matter of debate. However, they came to rule over a kingdom which consisted largely of areas inhabited by speakers of various Iranian languages, chiefly Bactrian. Their pantheon, documented in royal inscriptions and on coinage, was an eerie combination of mainstays of Iranian beliefs like Sraosha and Mithra and some unique figures, like Oesho, who was seemingly the reflection of Hindu Shiva. Obviously, Nanaya was there too, typically under the shortened name Nana. The most famous Kushan ruler, emperor Kanishka, in his inscription from Rabatak states that kingship was bestowed upon him by “Nana and all the gods”. However, we do not know if the rank assigned to her indicates she was the head of the dynastic pantheon, the local pantheon in the surrounding area, or if she was just the favorite deity of Kanishka. Same goes for the rank of numerous other deities mentioned in the rest of the inscription. Her apparent popularity during Kanishka’s reign and beyond indicates her role should not be downplayed, though. The coins of Kanishka and other Bactrian art indicate that a new image of Nanaya developed in Central Asia. The Artemis-like portrayals typical for Hellenistic times continue to appear, but she also started to be depicted on the back of a lion. There is only one possible example of such an image from the west, a fragmentary relief from Susa, and it’s roughly contemporary with the depictions from Bactria. While it is not impossible Nanaya originally adopted the lion association from one of her Mesopotamian peers, it is not certain how exactly this specific type of depictions originally developed, and there is a case to be made that it owed more to the Hellenistic diffusion of iconography of deities such as Cybele and Dionysus, who were often depicted riding on the back of large felines. The lunar symbols are well attested in the Kushan art of Nanaya too. Most commonly, she’s depicted wearing a diadem with a crescent. However, in a single case the symbol is placed behind her back. This is an iconographic type which was mostly associated with Selene at first, but in the east it was adopted for Mah, the Iranian personification of the moon. I’d hazard a guess that’s where Nanaya borrowed it from - more on that later. The worship of Nanaya survived the fall of the Kushan dynasty, and might have continued in Bactria as late as in the eighth century. However, the evidence is relatively scarce, especially compared with yet another area where she was introduced in the meanwhile.

Nanaya in Sogdia: new home and new friends

A Sogdian depiction of Nanaya from Bunjikat (wikimedia commons)

Presumably from Bactria, Nanaya was eventually introduced to Sogdia, its northern neighbor. I think it’s safe to say this area effectively became her new home for the rest of her history. Like Bactrians, the Sogdians also spoke an eastern Iranian language, Sogdian. It has a direct modern descendant, Yaghnobi, spoken by a small minority in Tajikistan. The religions Sogdians adhered to is often described as a form of Zoroastrianism, especially in older sources, but it would appear that Ahura Mazda was not exactly the most popular deity. Their pantheon was seemingly actually headed by Nanaya. Or, at the very least, the version of it typical for Samarkand and Panijkant, since there’s a solid case to be made for local variety in the individual city-states which made up Sogdia. It seems that much like Mesopotamians and Greeks centuries before them, Sogdians associated specific deities with specific cities, and not every settlement necessarily venerated each deity equally (or at all). Nanaya's remarkable popularity is reflected by the fact the name Nanaivandak, "servant of Nanaya", is one of the most common Sogdian names in general. It is agreed that among the Sogdians Panjikant was regarded as Nanaya’s cult center. She was referred to as “lady” of this city. At one point, her temple located there was responsible for minting the local currency. By the eighth century, coins minted there were adorned with dedications to her - something unparalleled in Sogdian culture, as the rest of coinage was firmly secular. This might have been an attempt at reasserting Sogdian religious identity in the wake of the arrival of Islam in Central Asia. Sogdians adopted the Kushan iconography of Nanaya, though only the lion-mounted version. The connection between her and this animal was incredibly strong in Sogdian art, with no other deity being portrayed on a similar mount. There were also innovations - Nanaya came to be frequently portrayed with four arms. This reflects the spread of Buddhism through central Asia, which brought new artistic conventions from India. While the crescent symbol can still be found on her headwear, she was also portrayed holding representations of the moon and the sun in two of her hands. Sometimes the solar disc and lunar orb are decorated with faces, which has been argued to be evidence that Nanaya effectively took over the domains of Mah and Mithra, who would be the expected divine identities of these two astral bodies. She might have been understood as controlling the passage of night and day. It has also been pointed out that this new iconographic type is the natural end point of the evolution of her astral role. Curiously, while no such a function is attested for Nanaya in Bactria, in Sogdia she could be sometimes regarded as a warlike deity. This is presumably reflected in a painting showing her and an unidentified charioteer fighting demons.

The "Sogdian Deities" painting from Dunhuang, a possible depiction of Nanaya and her presumed spouse Tish (wikimedia commons)

Probably the most fascinating development regarding Nanaya in Sogdia was the development of an apparent connection between her and Tish. This deity was the Sogdian counterpart of one of the best known Zoroastrian yazatas, Tishtrya, the personification of Sirius. As described in the Tištar Yašt, the latter is a rainmaking figure and a warlike protector who keeps various nefarious forces, such as Apaosha, Duzyariya and the malign “worm stars” (comets), at bay. Presumably his Sogdian counterpart had a similar role. While this is not absolutely certain, it is generally agreed that Nanaya and Tish were regarded as a couple in central Asia (there’s a minority position she was instead linked with Oesho, though). Most likely the fact that in Achaemenid Persia Tishtrya was linked with Nabu (and by extension with scribal arts) has something to do with this. There is a twist to this, though. While both Nabu and the Avestan Tishtrya are consistently male, in Bactria and Sogdia the corresponding deity’s gender actually shows a degree of ambiguity. On a unique coin of Kanishka, Tish is already portrayed as a feminine figure distinctly similar to Greek Artemis - an iconographic type which normally would be recycled for Nanaya. There’s also a possibility that a feminine, or at least crossdressing, version of Tish is portrayed alongside Nanaya on a painting from Dunhuang conventionally referred to as “Sogdian Daēnās” or “Sogdian Deities”, but this remains uncertain. If this identification is correct, it indicates outright interchange of attributes between them and Nanaya was possible.

The final frontier: Nanaya and the Sogdian diaspora in China Sogdians also brought Nanaya with them to China, where many of them settled in the Six Dynasties and Tang periods. An obviously Sinicized version of her, accompanied by two attendants of unknown identity, is portrayed on a Sogdian funerary couch presently displayed in the Miho Museum.

Nanaya (top) on a relief from the Miho funerary couch (Miho Museum; reproduced here for educational purposes only)

For the most part the evidence is limited to theophoric names, though. Due to unfamiliarity with Sogdian religious traditions and phonetic differences between the languages there was no consistent Chinese transcription of Nanaya’s name. I have no clue if Chinese contemporaries of the Sogdians were always aware of these elements in personal names referred to a deity. There is a fringe theory that Nanaya was referred to as Nantaihou (那那女主, “queen Nana”) in Chinese. However, the evidence is apparently not compelling, and as I understand the theory depends in no small part on the assertion that a hitherto unattested alternate reading of one of the signs was in use on the western frontiers of China in the early first millennium CE. The alleged Nantaihou is therefore most likely a misreading of a reference to a deceased unnamed empress dowager venerated through conventional ancestor worship, as opposed to Nanaya. Among members of the Sogdian diaspora, in terms of popularity Nanaya was going head to head with Jesus and Buddha. The presence of the latter two reflected the adoption of, respectively, Manichaeism and Buddhism. Manicheans seemingly were not fond of Nanaya, though, and fragments of a polemic against her cult have been identified. It seems ceremonies focused on lamentations were the main issue for the Manichaeans. Sadly there doesn’t seem to be any worthwhile study of possible Mesopotamian influence on that - the only one I found is old and confuses Nanaya with Inanna. We do not have much of an idea how Buddhists viewed Nanaya, though it is worth noting a number of other Sogdian deities were incorporated into the local form of Mahayana (unexpectedly, one of them was Zurvan). It has also been argued that a Buddhist figure, Vreshman (Vaisravana) was incorporated into Nanaya’s entourage. Nanaya might additionally be depicted in a painting showing Buddha’s triumph over Mara from Dunhuang. Presumably her inclusion would reflect the well attested motif of local deities converting to Buddhism. It was a part of the Buddhist repertoire from the early days of this religion and can be found in virtually every area where this religion ever spread. Nanaya is once again in elevated company here, since other figures near her have been tentatively interpreted as Shiva, Vishnu, Kartikeya and… Zoroaster.

Buddha conquering Mara (maravijaya) on a painting from Dunhuang (wikimedia commons)

zoom in on a possible depiction of Nanaya next to a demon suspiciously similar to Tove Jansson’s Fillyjonk

To my best knowledge, the last absolutely certain attestation of Nanaya as an actively worshiped deity also comes from the western frontier of China. A painting from Dandan Oilik belonging to the artistic tradition of the kingdom of Khotan shows three deities from the Sogdian pantheon: the enigmatic Āδβāγ (“highest god”; interpreted as either Indra, Ahura Mazda or a combination of them both) on the left, Weshparkar (a later version of Kushan Oesho) on the right and Nanaya in the center. It dates to the ninth or tenth century.

Nanaya (center) on the Dandan Oilik painting (wikimedia commons)

We will probably never know what Nanaya’s last days were like, though it is hard to imagine she retained much relevance with the gradual disappearance of Sogdian culture both in Sogdia and in China in the wake of, respectively, the rise of Islam in Central Asia and the An Lushan rebellion respectively. Her history ultimately most likely ended with a whimper rather than a bang. Conclusions and reflections Obviously, not everything about Nanaya could be covered in this article - there is enough material to warrant not one, but two wiki articles (and I don't even think they are extensive enough yet). I hope I did nonetheless manage to convey what matters: she was the single most enduring Mesopotamian deity who continued to be actually worshiped. She somehow outlived Enlil, Marduk, Nergal and even Inanna, and spread further than any of them ever did. It does not seem like her persistence was caused by some uniquely transcendent quality, and more to a mix of factors we will never really fully understand and pure luck. She is a far cry from the imaginary everlasting universal goddesses such longevity was attributed to by many highly questionable authors in the past, from Frazer to Gimbutas. Quite the opposite, once you look into the texts focused on her she comes across as sort of pathetic. After all, most of them are effectively ancient purple prose. And yet, this is precisely why I think Nanaya matters. To see how an author approaches her is basically a litmus test of trustworthiness - I wish I was kidding but this “Nanaya method” works every time. To even be able to study her history, let alone understand it properly, one has to cast away most of the dreadful trends which often hindered scholarship of ancient deities, and goddesses in particular, in the past. The interchangeability of goddesses; the Victorian mores and resulting notion that eroticism must be tied to fertility; the weird paradigms about languages neatly corresponding to religions; and many others. And if nothing else, this warrants keeping the memory of her 3000 years long history alive through scholarship (and, perhaps, some media appearances). Bibliography

Julia M. Asher-Greve & Joan Goodnick Westenholz, Goddesses in Context: On Divine Powers, Roles, Relationships and Gender in Mesopotamian Textual and Visual Sources (2013)

Paul-Alain Beaulieu, The Pantheon of Uruk During the Neo-Babylonian Period (2003)

idem, Nabû and Apollo: The Two Faces of Seleucid Religious Policy in: Orient und Okzident in Hellenistischer Zeit (2014)

Matteo Compareti, Nana and Tish in Sogdiana (2017)

idem, The So-Called "Pelliot Chinois 4518.24". Illustrated Document from Dunhuang and Sino-Sogdian Iconographical Contacts (2021)

Olga Drewnowska-Rymarz, Mesopotamian Goddess Nanāja (2008)

Benjamin R. Foster, Before the Muses: an Anthology of Akkadian Literature (2005)

Andrew R. George & Manfred Krebernik, Two Remarkable Vocabularies: Amorite-Akkadian Bilinguals! (2022)

Valerie Hansen, Kageyama Etsuko & Yutaka Yoshida, The Impact of the Silk Road Trade on a Local Community: The Turfan Oasis, 500-800 in: Les sogdiens en Chine (2005)

Wilfred G. Lambert, Babylonian Creation Myths (2013)

Enrico Marcato, An Aramaic Incantation Bowl and the Fall of Hatra (2020)

Christa Müller-Kessler & Karlheinz Kessler, Spätbabylonische Gottheiten in spätantiken mandäischen Texten (1999)

Lilla Russel-Smith, Uygur Patronage in Dunhuang. Regional Art Centres on the Northern Silk Road in the Tenth and Eleventh Centuries (2005)

idem, The 'Sogdian Deities' Twenty Years on: A Reconsideration of a Small Painting from Dunhuang in: Buddhism in Central Asia II. Practices and Rituals, Visual and Material Transfer (2022)

Tonia M. Sharlach, An Ox of One's Own. Royal Wives and Religion at the Court of the Third Dynasty of Ur (2017)

Michael Shenkar, Intangible Spirits and Graven Images: The Iconography of Deities in the Pre-Islamic Iranian World (2014)

idem, The Religion and the Pantheon of the Sogdians (5th-8th Centuries CE) in Light of their Sociopolitical Structures (2017)

idem, The So-Called "Fravašis" and the "Heaven and Hell" Paintings, and the Cult of Nana in Panjikent (2022)

Marten Stol, Nanaja in: Reallexikon der Assyriologie, vol. 9 (1998)

Michael P. Streck & Nathan Wasserman, More Light on Nanāya (2013)

Aaron Tugendhaft, Gods on Clay: Ancient Near Eastern Scholarly Practices and the History of Religions in: Canonical Texts and Scholarly Practices. A Global Comparative Approach (2016)

Joan Goodnick Westenholz, Nanaya, Lady of Mystery in: Sumerian Gods and Their Representations (1997)

idem, Trading the Symbols of the Goddess Nanaya in: Religions and Trade. Religious Formation, Transformation and Cross-Cultural Exchange between East and West (2014)

Xinjiang Rong, The Colophon of the Manuscript of the Golden Light Sutra Excavated in Turfan and the Transmission of Zoroastrianism to Gaochang in: The Silk Road and Cultural Exchanges between East and West (2022)

Gioele Zisa, The Loss of Male Sexual Desire in Ancient Mesopotamia. ›Nīš Libbi‹ Therapies (2021)

#mesopotamian mythology #sumerian mythology #mythology #bactrian mythology #sogdian mythology #sogdia #nanaya

[maxknightley]

Which Touhou Girls Can You Plausibly Read As Butch? A Comprehensive Overview

Earlier on Tumblr I saw a post complaining that someone called Hecatia Lapislazuli from Touhou Project butch. This is Hecatia Lapislazuli:

Obviously, like most Touhou characters, she is in fact quite feminine - she just shops at Hell Hot Topic. But it got me thinking: In a series like Touhou, with a cast overwhelmingly defined by feminine (if rowdy) ladies, how many characters could you say are 'butch' without sounding like a complete doofus or significantly redesigning them to fit your headcanon?

CRITERIA

I'll be using four main criteria to judge characters' butchness. In real life, of course, butchness is a multivalent and extremely personal thing, but I'm talking about funny cartoon women from a video game here, so I'm willing to be a little reductive.

These criteria, in order of descending importance, are:

FASHION. In a series where goddamn near everyone is in either a dress or a skirt, the mere act of Wearing A Dress Shirt can be enough to make a powerful statement. Hats may also play a role here, given how many Touhou characters have gay little hats.

HAIRSTYLE. Short hair is not the be-all and end-all of butchness. I, myself, am Decidedly Butch even though I've been growing out my hair since college. But the length and styling of the hair are still a valuable indicator of how someone thinks of themself and wants to be seen.

'TUDE. Could this character be accurately described as "kind of a frat boy?" How do they speak to others? Do they just kind of seem like a character who ought to be butch, regardless of their looks? Do they even lift?

COMEDY FACTOR. Self-explanatory. This will probably only come into play if I run into a weird edge case.

I'll also emphasize that we're grading on a curve here - butchness is being assessed relative to the characters who do not appear on this list. Nobody in this series has a buzzcut, you know what I mean?

THE TIER LIST

AS CLOSE TO CANON AS WE'LL GET

Fujiwara no Mokou. The girl wears a dress shirt, fucking suspenders, and trousers. Not shorts, actual full-length pants. She's also in a perpetual love-hate mutual-murder situationship with Princess Kaguya, who is femme as all fuck. Obviously you don't have to be butch to date a femme - I'm just saying it feels Fitting given their whole deal.

Yuugi Hoshiguma. Most of the time, her fashion sense is actually quite feminine - but her look in the most recent chapter of Cheating Detective Satori, with the one exposed shoulder and the sarashi and all that, significantly alters the balance. Her hair actually reads as more masc to me when she keeps it long and unruly - when she puts it up in a ponytail, she ends up looking very kempt, even elegant. The deciding factor here is 'Tude: Her sheer levels of butch swag are off the fucking charts. (Still, I wouldn't blame someone for arguing she should be knocked down a tier - especially since I'd argue the Comedy Factor works in reverse here. She's way funnier if she doesn't think of herself as butch in the slightest.)

Minamitsu Murasa. In his original appearance I'd argue that Murasa is in "Reasonable" tier - maybe even as low as "Kind of a Stretch." But her big gay Jotaro jacket in Sunken Fossil World, combined with the emphasis on the weightiness and solidity of his trademark anchor, put her over the top. One of the only Touhou girls I consider worthy of being He/Himmed.

Shinmyoumaru Sukuna. The other He/Him-worthy Touhou girl. Very short, slightly messy hair; wears a kimono, not a dress; inheritor of Issun-Boshi's legacy; wears fucking dinnerware as a hat. Why do you want to be Big so badly, huh? So you can pick up women more easily? So you can carry your awful wife through the upside-down threshold of your upside-down bedroom?

Raiko Horikawa. For the longest time I thought her skirt was a pair of shorts because I straight up could not parse it as anything else. Even now I'm like "that can't possibly be a skirt, ZUN just drew it weird. She has to be wearing a full two-piece suit." Skirt aside, her jacket/dress shirt/necktie are still undeniable, as is her short hair. Also, she is a taiko drum given life, and I feel like taiko and timpanis are naturally butch. Maybe if she was a tambourine or a set of bongos I'd rank her lower?

Momoyo Himemushi. Rough-talking miner. Wears a dress shirt, leaves the top button(?) undone. Tromps around a big weird cave with no shoes or socks on. Wears bows and bangles basically everywhere but in her messy, tangled hair. Also, maybe I'm stereotyping here, but I just can't picture a centipede as being femme.

REASONABLE

Wriggle Nightbug. The dress shirt, cape, and puffy shorts all paint a vivid picture, but I just feel like I don't have a strong enough opinion on Wriggle as a character to put her in the top tier. In other words, she's got plenty of points for Fashion and quite a few for Hairstyle, but I just don't think the 'Tude is sufficient for me.

Reisen Udongein Inaba. The skirts are a strike against her, but her whole "dress shirt + necktie + sometimes suit jacket" thing makes a big difference, especially given that we're grading on a curve. Her rumpled ears and (particularly in Inaba of the Moon, Inaba of the Earth) pathetic demeanor go a long way towards giving her a vibe somewhere between "overworked salaryman" and "Detective Columbo."

Aya Shameimaru. All you need to know about Aya is that her "human reporter" disguise looks like This:

Mononobe no Futo. Butch, but in a really weird, circuitous way, imo. Like. She's sort of wearing a dress, but it's sort of a robe - the contrast of the hemline with her big flowy sleeves makes it hard to pin down - and her outfit quite notably has tassels rather than any kind of frills. I don't know what the hell is up with her hat but it's definitely not femme by any stretch of the imagination. Then thou hast the wayes in which she speaketh all "faux-olde-timey," even though nobody else in the setting does that... she transferred her soul into a plate, but she also throws plates around as weapons... It's like she's constantly putting on a performance that only she truly understands. It's like she reverse-engineered "masculine womanhood" by hanging out with a bunch of queens and doing kind of the same thing but kind of the inverse. The more I think about Futo the more I think she's entirely on her own wavelength, but I think "Reasonable" tier is a... uh, reasonable... approximation for the sake of this post.

Sagume Kishin. She dresses like if Bill Nye were a woman, and I think that cuts to the heart of it - she reminds me of a professor who you're not ever sure is gay, but you kind of pick up on a vibe, and near the end of the semester she offhandedly refers to "her partner" and you're like HOLY SHIT I KNEW IT. I went back and forth between putting her in "Reasonable" and "Kind of a Stretch"; ultimately, the Comedy Factor decided it because I couldn't stop thinking about a scenario where she says she's a woman, accidentally upends her whole understanding of gender in the process, and ends up taking testosterone while still ID'ing as a lesbian. I don't actually know if her powers would work that way and I don't care.

KIND OF A STRETCH

Eiki Shiki. I don't have a lot to go on, here, because she hasn't had many official appearances and seems to spend most of her time lecturing people or tormenting sinners. Her uniform(?)/apothecary outfit(??) is pretty snazzy; combined with the hat, it gives her a vaguely "military officer" look to me. We'll call her "butch pending further investigation," which I think she would agree is the correct course of action.

Sekibanki. She's here partially because of the cape, and partially because being sandwiched between Wakasagihime and Kagerou makes her look way more masc by contrast. I know what I said.

Ringo. It's pretty much just the hat and the pants, though - as a butch woman who Loves Eating - I am also inclined to project my own experiences onto her.

Aunn Komano. She reads as more "tomboyish" than outright "butch" to me, what with her whole puppy-dog vibe, but at the same time... she's very much wearing shorts and the kind of goofy-looking button-up shirt that is central to my own wardrobe and the wardrobe of other butches in my life. I'm willing to count her.

Takane Yamashiro. A living testament to the power of small character design choices. I would never in a million years call Nitori butch, even with her gay little hat and all the pouches on her outfit - she just looks like a girl scout. Takane, though? Takane, with her little hair swoopy, and the fucking suitcase slung over her back, and her camo-print dress? I mean - ultimately it is still a dress, which is why I can't justify scoring her higher, but she's definitely chewing tobacco and riding around on an ATV on weekends.

Chiyari Tenkaijin. If she's butch, it's not really because she's trying to be butch, it's just because being femme seems too expensive and time-consuming. She's got better things to do (drink blood all day). Still, I think an argument could be made.

DEFINITELY A STRETCH, BUT I RESPECT IT

Renko Usami. ZUN is kind of inconsistent with how he draws her hat - sometimes it's more of a porkpie/fedora type thing, other times it's round-topped and looks a bit like Koishi's hat. To me, this is a crucial distinction. In a more general sense, I feel like Renko's outfit gets a little less plausibly-masc with each passing album, which says a lot about our society. Or her society, anyway, since she lives in the future. Still, the capelets and bowties...

Rinnosuke Morichika. I think it would be really funny if the only significant male character in Touhou wasn't actually even a dude. I'm not aware of any real textual support for this interpretation, though.

Shou Toramaru. Pretty much only on here because of the hair and because I think there's a certain je ne sais quoi to her whole deal of "she's not a real tiger, she's the idea of a tiger that pre-Meiji Japanese people came up with from secondhand accounts."

Seija Kijin. Not even remotely butch by any stretch of the imagination... But if she did consider herself butch, isn't that exactly what she'd want you to think?

POTENTIALLY NOTEWORTHY EXCLUSIONS

Cirno. "Tomboyish" is not the same thing as "butch," to me, especially if you exclusively wear dresses. Also, I'm not sure Cirno even knows what a lesbian is.

Saki Kurokoma. Not actually butch, just a horse girl. (And a horsegirl.)

Mike Goutokuji. Can't tell if she's wearing a skirt or shorts. She's got short hair, sure, but the whole "matching bell collar and wristbands that also have bells attached" thing makes her look more like a Very Online Trans Woman who just figured herself out and hasn't started hormones or bought any new clothes yet.

#touhou #touhou project #crossposted from cohost after i spent like an hour on it.

[penny-anna]

been reading a lot of Owl House fanfic lately & have some Hunter Thoughts (long post + cw for discussion of child abuse):

run into the take a couple of times now that the other Coven heads (in particular well-meaning characters like Darius & Raine) should have done more to help Hunter. and while i do agree that uhh almost every adult in the show let Hunter down i have 2 responses to that

FIRSTLY: i could be wrong (i watched s2 in a pretty choppy manner) but i don't think there's any indication that Hunter's abuse is happening anywhere other than behind closed doors. it's very possible that the outward image of Hunter & Belos's relationship is 'this is the emperor's special favourite nephew who he dotes upon'.

it's like. self-evidently the case that Hunter is being neglected emotionally but probably no-one had any reason to think he was in physical danger. remember that most people were under the impression that Belos was a benevolent ruler & the minority who'd figured out what his game could have reasonably assumed that for all his faults he wouldn't hurt Hunter.

Darius expresses concern about his social life but seems to read uhh nothing whatsoever into this interaction:

which suggests to me that he hasn't seen any prior indication of physical abuse & just assumes Hunter is being very dramatic!

(side note i just noticed Flapjack covering his eyes with his wings gdlkjfhglfjh omg Flapjack)

& all of this is very plausible! let's face it not all abusive parents IRL give off obvious red flags to anyone external to the situation.

SECONDLY: to be blunt, the position Belos put Hunter in was such that i don't know if anyone could have helped even if they wanted to.

Hunter being elevated to the position of Head of the Emperor's Coven is clearly an unusual move & one that was made in direct response to Lilith defecting. It's a clear signal that Belos doesn't trust his remaining Coven Heads and wants to keep a closer eye on them. they have good reason to believe that the Golden Guard could u know. report any of them to Belos as a Traitor at any time.

whether Belos would actually automatically believe him is another matter but like, as stated above, they don't know how Belos treats Hunter behind closed doors. for all they know one word from Hunter could get them idk petrified.

their behaviour towards him isn't nice but his presence is both threatening and also kind of insulting. he's wrapped up in the internal politics of the court in a way that makes it difficult to anyone to respond to him with anything other hostility. which is uhh not a position Belos should ever have put his 16 year old ''''nephew'''' into.

for all Darius knows if he starts being nice to the Golden Guard & relaxes in his presence he's gonna end up saying something that'll get back to Belos. he doesn't let down his guard around Hunter until seeing u know. multiple clear signals that he's actually willing to lie to Belos.

like. Hunter is dangerous! bcos we as the audience are so familiar w this Hunter:

easy to forget that most people in the Boiling Isles only know this guy:

he's a very real threat to everyone around him by virtue of being the emperor's Right Hand! just look at how Odalia reacts to him showing up:

people are actively afraid of the Golden Guard & him being 16 doesn't make him any less of a deadly threat. he's functionally untouchable. trying to suggest that hey, maybe the head of the police force shouldn't be a 16 year old boy is liable to get you thrown in the conformatorium.

like. even if someone did put together that Hunter was in danger from Belos what are they gonna do about it? u can't exactly call social services on the God Emperor.

#the owl house

[starry-bi-sky]

for clone Danny, Clone Damian

I give you

Edit Clone Talia as somehow Girlfriend of Danny, just think of the comedy

nah brO BECAUSE LITERALLY I HAVE THOUGHT BOUT THAT. Literally since the conception of Clone Danny, I have thought about it. If only for, as you said, the COMEDY of it all. Plus I love writing romance.

Literally my motto for my aus is: A) is it plausible, B) is it FUNNY (and a secret third option C) is it ANGSTY)

Clone Talia would be an offshoot au of Clone^2 because idk how she'd fit into the original timeline, bUT, she'd exist. And to avoid confusion I'll call her Nasra - I thought about Tameka (which means twin) but I like Nasra better. "Talia and Nasra" just flows so nicely doesn't it?

Idk WHY there's a clone of Talia running around -- maybe the LoA made her, maybe n unknown organization who hates Batman and knows he has romantic ties to Talia, and started making a clone of her to fuck with him and then she got nabbed by a portal when she was still Danny's age and in the middle of training. She might be like Connor (??) and have memories and thus her training is more proficient than baby Dames.

Either way, regardless of how she was made, I think it's hilarious if she, much like baby Dames, immediately attacks Danny on sight. She falls into his city and Danny only has a moment to go "goddammit not agaIN" before he's fending off a very confused, very violent Nasra. Fortunately he's able to actually try and talk to her and be at least somewhat successful -- Nasra knows english. although even if she didn't, Danny would still be somewhat successful since he knows Arabic.

Also Bruce and Danny are the battinson bat because i think that is also hilarious and 'wet rat' is STILL the perfect energy for Danny as Phantom - especially in the early days when he's running around in all but jeans and a hoodie. (and god watch me go on a rant in a separate post about his outfit and reasonings for being Phantom when he has no powers later on because it makes me go FERAL. and his active choice to look as inhuman and ghost-like through his behavior as phantom and the decision to wear such a creepy mask as possible)

(like seriously, imagine walking home late at night while danny was still in his early vigilante days (and even now when he's got damian and a better suit) and seeing a skinny figure in the shadows with sunken in black-and-glowing-green eyes, and a bone white, skull-like face, crouched on all fours like a wild animal about to pounce. THAT is the level of creepiness I was going for for clone danny)

In my head, Sam offers to house Nasra and Nasra stays with her. SAm is able to convince her parents to let her stay, or she pulls a Danny and just straight up smuggles her in and her parents are none the wiser. I also think it's funny if they have unspoken BEEF with each other. Only to later become like sisters. Nasra teaches Sam the martial arts she knows, and also Danny joins in too with Damian because goddamn he needs it even IF he's learning stuff from his mom (as per the most recent snippet post I made).

OH AND DAMIAN AND NASRA. I think it's equally as funny if they ALSO have beef with each other. Nasra is a clone of his mother (of whom he might have complicated views on due to being a clone but still is his mother) and Damian is a clone of Nasra's "son". This beef largely starts from Damian's own refusal to want to share his Danny with another clone, especially with a clone of his MOTHER.

Danny and Nasra don't become lovers for a good, long while I think. They're besties first before they even consider the idea of dating -- not only just because of the whole "uhhh our counterparts dated so it'd feel kinda weird and forced if we dated" and also because Nasra, with her newfound freedom, is busy trying to figure out herself.

A big theme here in clone^2: discovering your identity and who you are as a person when the only thing you own that's unique is your name (which isn't even the case for Damian), and figuring out if your choices are your own or because you're a clone and its something your original would have done. Nature vs Nurture and the illusion of choice and whether it really is one or not.

Also Nasra also becomes a vigilante. Danny appreciates the help but is also tearing out his hair because what the fuck is up with these assassins and becoming vigilantes?! Nasra goes by "Nesha". She's similar to Red Huntress at first where she kinda does her own thing, but is lowkey forced to team up with Danny about it because she doesn't have any proper ghost hunting equipment with her.

And then a duo becomes a trio, and Danny is spending more time with her. And they steadily become friends. Very snarky friends who are very bratty to each other, but friends. Damian still doesn't like her so Danny spends extra time during patrol keeping the two of them from making insults at each other.

"Nesha please stop fighting with a nine year old. Wraith, quit insulting Nesha."

Nasra also uses like, weaponry as Nesha which exasperates Danny a little because why are you using swords??? They're already dead its not gonna kill them,,,, If you cut off their heads its just gonna piss em off, its re-attachable. Let him ghost-proof it first too. But well, its still gonna HURT he supposes. He's still a little exasperated.

And MMM i'm sorry lmao im so focused on Nasra becoming her own person than the actual romance aspect of it all. Nasra cuts her hair short for the same/similar reasons that Danny keeps his long - to try and gain a semblance of autonomy and identity that's away from their original. Danny has his alternative rock-kinda geeky look and Nasra's got, from influence from Sam, a more alternative fashion style. Although she still leans into being feminine, which is a good challenge to Sam's belief that feminity = bad, and gets her to unlearn those bad habits since her new adoptive sister is feminine while still being an unapologetic badass.

And ykw I think Nasra gets into rollerblading and loves it. She rollerblades constantly. Damian is furious because skating is his thing (even if what he gets later on is a skateboard - skater boy damian ftw. i can see him wearing flannels and graphic tees as a teenager. very grungy/skater aesthetic. He also has a much more relaxed and teen-y speech pattern compared to DW's more formal way of talking. He also spray paints as his form of artistic medium.) and he refuses to have Nasra be a copy of him.

They will sort out their differences eventually. LMao.

Anyways they eventually do get together, but not before Danny finally has his run in with Mister Wayne. Which, they only meet because Danny starts destabilizing, and thus needs Bruce Wayne's DNA to help stabilize himself. Which that meeting in and of itself is pretty chaotic on its own, but then add clone Damian and Nasra? Bruce needs coffee.. or alcohol.

Because picture this: its late at night, you're on patrol with the rest of your family. It's like, two in the morning. You suddenly get a call in from your butler, Alfred, informing you that not one, not two, but THREE children -- two of them in their late teens and the other one not even ten yet -- showed up on your doorstep. One of them is unconscious. They are all clones.

The girl and the boy are twins - and are clones of YOU - and the girl isn't even technically YOUR clone she's a clone of your clone - and also this clone of you is your college friends' kid. And then the youngest boy is a clone of your youngest SON. Bruce is running across rooftops when he gets this call and does a literal 180 degree turn and touches the ground because he basically did a figure skating turn, and sprints back towards the manor because what the fuck? He needs to check this out.

And then half a day later a clone of your fucking ex shows up on your doorstep demanding to see the clone of you - the boy that is, not the girl - and then immediately gets into a verbal lashing with the clone of your son. Like what a fucking DAY. Your kids are equally as baffled but also laughing their asses off -- except your bio son, who is very unhappy about this turn of events and keeps getting the stink eye from his clone.

Like??? I'd quit right then and there.

While Danny recovers he's staying in Wayne manor and Damian is very reportedly not leaving his side. Ellie has to leave to help take care of Amity Park with RH, and then Nasra is also very determinedly not leaving his side either. This is her friend dammit. The first thing she does when he becomes lucid is insult him, and he insults her back - they're bantering. It's how they flirt later on. None of the Bats know how to deal with this situation.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #dpdc #dpdc crossover #dpdc au #dp dc #dp dc crossover #clone^2 #danny fenton is a clone #danny fenton is not the ghost king #sorry this got so long and i barely even got into them falling in love with one another #satoshy you should totally reblog this so we can talk about this more i'd love to bounce ideas with you or anyone else about it 👀 #this is so funny to me personally because like. im imagining nasra doesnt show up unti danny's like at least 18-19 #which is a wild set of 3 years for danny because he finds out he's a clone when he's 15 #acquires Damian at 16 and then meets nasra at 18 #like he got one grace period where it was just him and his new little brother and then BAm another clone #damian showed up by accident but i promise you nasra was specifically clockwork's doing because its hilarious to me personally #CW loves danny but also he's a little shit. i was originally gonna call Nasra's vigilante name 'revenant' but thought it was too basic #also danny not meeting bruce until he's almost 20 is very funny to me. especially since baby dames was with the league for 6 years #beforehand #like what do you mean my clone has been living unnoticed for 18 years. he's had damian for HOW LONG? THREE YEARS? #morally gray danny has my heart ever since my post where he murdered three guys for nearly killing his brother. #nasra attacks danny and yay! he doesn't hurt his hands this time around! he's grown since he met damian. that was also a large part why dee #didn't like nasra right off the bat. she could've hurt him and made his hands even worse.

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Somewhere to Belong | 1/3 | S.R

Gif does not depict the child’s appearance

A/N - this will be a three parter, written for @imagining-in-the-margins Family Challenge.

Part 2 | Part 3

Summary - You and Spencer have only been dating a few months when he drops the bombshell that he wants to start a family and it throws you into turmoil. And that’s only made worse he meets five year old orphan Wren Briar and is determined to do whatever it takes to adopt her. Even if that means destroying your relationship.

Pairing - Spencer Reid x BAU Fem! Reader

Warnings - found family, very brief mention of past addiction and Maeve storyline, post prison arc, age gap between consenting adults (Spencer is late 30s and reader is mid 20s), typical CM case related stuff, child losing her parents, crying child, arguing, swearing.

WC - 8.3k

Part 1

If Spencer Reid were perfectly honest, he’d never wanted for much his entire life. He’d grown used to just accepting what came his way, never letting his expectations or hubris desire more than he was given. 

Wanting for things only led to great disappointment. For example, wanting a mother who wasn’t sick and a father that didn’t walk out on them. Wanting to not have a drug addiction, or the weight of potentially developing schizophrenia. 

He wanted to not have witnessed his first love being shot to death in front of him before he’d ever had a chance to hold her. 

Maeve allowed Spencer for the first time in his life to want for something tangible. A relationship. A wife. A family. But that was snuffed out along with her life at the hands of Diane Turner’s bullet. 

He’d always liked the idea of having a family, the idea of it almost like a guilty pleasure to the young genius. It seemed so far out of reach, out of the realms of the possible for someone like him to accomplish. 

All he’d ever really wanted was somewhere to belong, something more than his mother could offer him; something deeper than the BAU could provide. Somewhere where he fit like a missing puzzle piece. 

He’d always been an overachiever, never having much trouble reaching the goals he set for himself, but that seemed to be one ideal he would never make a reality. 

He allowed himself the fleeting dream of having a family with Maeve but yet again it had been squandered, the flame of possibility extinguished before it really had a chance to burn. 

He’d spent years watching Hotch with Jack and JJ with Henry and later Michael. He’d witnessed Kate and her niece and then the birth of her own baby. Even Morgan with Hank. And later came Matt with his array of children so large it didn’t seem fair. 

As time drew on Spencer found himself growing more and more resentful towards his friends simply because they had achieved something he was sure he never would. 

And time was ticking on for him, he was much closer to forty now, his thirties slipping away in the rear view mirror, soon to vanish entirely from his vision. 

Perhaps it was his incarceration that put everything into perspective for him; maybe in some twisted way Cat had done him a favour by having him arrested. It was entirely plausible that if he hadn’t gone through that ordeal prior to the case that took place in Woodbridge, Virginia, just fifteen miles outside of Quantico, it may not have ended in the way that it had.   

It was his first day back after thirty days off and admittedly he was grateful to be returning to the BAU. He loved teaching, loved imparting knowledge but it didn’t compare to the rush of fulfilment he got when he worked with his FBI family.

Because that’s what they were, right? Family, at least the closest thing to one Spencer really had. Of course he had his mom, his biological family, but what he had with the team was different. 

In a strange way Emily and Rossi were like the parents, while Matt and Tara were like auntie and uncle and JJ, Garcia and Luke were his twisted siblings. 

Which left you. You who’d joined the team around the same time as Matt not long after his release from prison. You who had slotted into the BAU family as if you’d been there all along. 

You who he couldn’t look at like a sister the way he did JJ and Penelope without it being incredibly bizarre given how attracted to you he was. 

You’d shined a light on Spencer’s dark existence, giving him hope for the first time since Maeve. 

And maybe years ago he never would have even considered crossing that line with a coworker, maybe wouldn’t have even had the confidence to pursue you in the first place. 

But a funny thing happened to Spencer while he was incarcerated. In having his walls completely and utterly torn down, leaving him as little more than a foundation, he was able to rebuild, recraft and manufacture a whole new facade. 

This new appearance was more self assured, the walls he’d erected had locked his old insecurities out in the cold. 

Less was the innocence he’d once possessed but instead replaced by assertiveness. He wouldn’t wait around for what he wanted and hope it would fall in his lap. He would go after it and grab it with both hands.

And that’s exactly what he did with you. 

He’d told you in no uncertain terms that he thought you were beautiful and effervescent and that he wanted to take you for dinner. It wasn’t a question, he didn’t ask if you wanted to go to dinner, he told you that’s what was happening. 

You’d found his confidence to be dizzying and electrifying, and also arousing. You hadn’t even stopped to consider the ramifications of going on a date with your colleague. 

It had been the furthest thing from your mind after dinner, when Spencer kissed you outside of your apartment. You hadn’t given it a second thought when you invited him upstairs where you became privy to the true extent of Spencer’s dominance. 

It had been several months of this and as far as you were aware the rest of the team was none the wiser. 

Spencer lavished you with both expensive dates and also afterwards in the bedroom. He was a gentleman in the streets and a wild animal in the sheets. 

But he wanted more from you than you were able to give, that much became apparent two days ago when you were lying in a post coital bliss and Spencer had mumbled absent mindedly, “I want to have a family.” 

He was on the cusp of forty, it was understandable that he would be thinking of those things. But you were still young, close to fifteen years his junior and a family was the last thing you were thinking about. 

What had ensued had been a painfully awkward conversation which you would have rather had with more clothes on. A resolution hadn’t been reached, the discussion simply ended when Spencer told you he needed time to think and proceeded to leave your apartment. 

And you hadn’t spoken in two days.

With all of it whirring around in your brain you had completely forgotten Spencer was due back today and so when he strolled into the round table room, ten minutes later than everyone else and not apologising for that fact, you tried to hide your surprise by staring at the tablet in front of you.

He took the last remaining seat between you and Luke and flipped open the case file leisurely. 

“Nice of you to join us, Reid.” Emily rolled her eyes as she spoke. 

“Hmm.” He didn’t look up. “What did I miss?” 

“Uh, well, as I was saying,” Garcia shook off his slightly abrupt tone and continued her presentation. “Mister and Mrs Briar are the second couple to be killed in their home Woodbridge, both shot in the head, point blank. A week ago, Mister and Mrs Logan also met the same grizzly fate.” 

“And the police think they are connected? Doesn’t seem like a very specific MO.” Rossi frowned, sitting back in his chair.

“There is one piece of information that ties the two families.” Garcia clicked a button on her remote, casting away the crime scene photos in lieu of two pictures of two little girls. “Both the Logan’s and the Briar’s had a daughter who witnessed the whole sorry thing but were gratefully left alive.” 

Spencer skim read the file in front of him before looking up at the screen and the images of the two kids who had gone through something no child should have to. 

His eyes gravitated to the photograph on the left of a little girl with rosy cheeks and a bright smile. She had curly dark hair and expressive green eyes and Spencer felt as though she was looking right at him, maybe even through him. 

“This is six year old Freya Logan,” Garcia pointed at the blonde girl on the right. “And five year old Wren Briar.” 

Wren, cute, he thought. 

“Woodbridge is nearby, so we’ll work the case from here.” Emily pushed herself to her feet. “Y/N, Tara and I will go to the county police department and speak to the sheriff. Luke, Matt go to the latest crime scene. Garcia I need you to find the kids and get them brought in, they may have seen something that could be of help. The rest of you start digging.” 

Everyone nodded in agreement and started off on their separate ways. Emily mouthed to you and Tara to give her a minute before she left the room. 

Spencer left soon after and without meaning to you found yourself on your feet and following him. 

You trailed him to the kitchen when he grabbed his mug and started up the coffee machine. He had his back to you when you entered behind him but somehow he knew you were there. 

“Why were you late? You’re never late.” Your voice was so unsure, like you weren’t even certain you were allowed to speak to him. 

He turned slowly, leaning his back against the counter as he regarded you with his gaze. 

“I overslept.” He shrugged. 

“You never oversleep.” 

“Yeah because I usually get a decent night's rest. But for two nights I’ve been tossing and turning and when I do actually sleep, it’s fretful at best.” His tone was something akin to frustration, frustration that was clearly directed at you. 

“You can’t just drop a bombshell like that and walk off. I haven’t been sleeping either, Spencer.” You lowered your tone to a whisper in case any prying ears were around. 

“I didn’t realise wanting a family with my girlfriend would be such a bombshell.” He folded his arms across his chest, not being quiet with his words the way you were. At least the coffee percolating helped to mask his voice.

“I didn’t even know I was your girlfriend! We’ve never once talked about what we were, let alone having a family. We’ve been dating for a few months, I’m not sure I understand when this got so serious.” You mirrored him and folded your arms too. 

“Relationships are only ever going to end one of two ways, Y/N. They either eventually run their course or you spend the rest of your life together. I was just letting you know my intentions.” 

“Spencer, I’m still young. Marriage and kids is not something I’m thinking about right now.” 

“Well that's all I think about. And if you don’t want that then there really is no point in us being together. I’m not wasting my time with someone who doesn’t want the same things as me.” 

The coffee machine clicked, its sounds starting to fade out. Spencer turned his back on you and shoved his mug under the machine and hit a button. 

“That’s what this is to you? A waste of time?” You let your arms fall to your sides, feeling the weight of his words crash down on you like a tidal wave.

“You tell me.” He shrugged, not looking back at you. “I’ve made my intentions clear, Y/N. It’s up to you what you want out of this. And if it isn’t a family, then I guess yeah, it was a waste of time.” 

You opened your mouth to speak but closed it again quickly. You repeated this several times as Spencer turned with his mug of coffee in hand. He strolled past you without so much as a glance and you dumbly watched him go. 

You couldn’t even go after him if you tried as soon Emily found you and motioned for you to follow her and Tara towards the elevators. 

***

“She won’t talk to me,” JJ sighed exhaustedly, running a hand through her hair as she looked between Spencer and Rossi. “She keeps asking for her daddy. I think she’d be more open with a male.” 

The three of them stood in the corridor outside of the small disused office where Wren Briar and a woman from social services were situated. Her eyes stopped their back and forth and landed on Rossi. 

“Don’t look at me.” Rossi scoffed. “I’m old enough to be her grandpa.” 

JJ pulled a face that told him she agreed before turning to Spencer. 

“You are around her dad’s age.” JJ gave him a shrug. “And you’re great with Henry and Michael.” 

“And Jack. And Hank.” Rossi added. 

“Boys,” Spencer shook his head. “They are all boys. I have no idea what to say to a little girl. A little girl whose parents have just been murdered no less.” 

“Spence, you’re great with kids. I think she would really open up to you.” JJ was pleading with him with both her voice and her eyes. Spencer always did have a hard time saying no to her. 

He glanced passed JJ through the window and on the side of the five year old’s face. Since he’d seen her photograph this morning he had felt a strange emotion bubbling in his chest which he couldn’t quite place.

Maybe protectiveness? Did he feel the need to safeguard this little girl from harm? And if so, why?

He’d had dealings with hundreds if not thousands of kids in his years at the BAU and never felt like this before. He wanted to cushion her, wrap her in bubble wrap and take away all of her pain. 

But he didn’t understand why. 

He looked back at JJ and sighed louder than necessary to convey he wasn’t pleased about this. 

“Fine, but you owe me.” He rolled his eyes, stepping further forward and taking a deep breath before entering the room.

Her astute green eyes snapped up as the door opened, little eyebrows knitted together as she took in the man walking towards her. She seemed wiser than her years, the way she seemed to be curiously regarding him, sizing him up and assessing his threat level. 

Spencer offered the social worker a smile before focusing back on Wren. He crouched down when he reached where she was sitting on the couch so he was her height. 

She clutched a stuffed toy to her chest which appeared to be some sort of dog, maybe a cow, maybe even a panda. It was a dirty off white with splodges of black and long tatty ears. It was slightly ragged and threadbare and clearly a favourite with this little girl. 

“Hi,” he spoke softly, calmingly. “My name is Spencer, can you tell me your name?” 

Of course he already knew it but he needed an excuse to get her talking.

“Wren,” she sucked in a breath. “Like the bird.” 

“Wow, that’s such a pretty name.” His smile grew of its own accord. “You wanna know something cool?” 

She rolled her thin bottom lip between her teeth thoughtfully before nodding her head, her nearly black curls bouncing around her face. 

“Y-yes.” She whispered.

“Wren’s eat spiders and insects that they find while hopping along the ground.” He wiggled his long, slender fingers towards her and to his surprise and delight Wren started to giggle.

“Eww!” she shook her head frantically. “I don’t want to eat spiders!” 

“I’m afraid with a name like that, you might have to.” Spencer laughed, her innocent giggle sending shockwaves through his whole body. 

It melted him from the inside out, as if he were made of chocolate and her laugh was a hot flame. He wanted a child more than anything in the entire world and it was killing him not to have one.

“Noooo!” She shook her head so frantically it was a wonder she didn’t make herself dizzy.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Spencer lowered his voice, leaning in a little closer to Wren. “If you can help me find out what happened to your mommy and daddy, I promise no one will ever make you eat a spider.” 

She pouted dramatically, her lip jutting out so severely it looked almost painful. She loosened her grip on the stuffed dog-cow-panda, patting its scruffy head before gripping its ears in her little fingers. 

“This is Rover,” she turned him so Spencer could see his face and confirmed it was in fact a dog. 

“Hi Rover, I’m Spencer. Do you eat spiders?” He cautiously took hold of one of the dogs paws and shook it. 

“Eww!” Wren giggled again, wrapping her arms tightly around the dog again and wrinkling her tiny nose. “Dog’s don’t eat spiders.” 

He wasn’t going to argue with the little girl that given half the chance most dogs probably would eat spiders. Instead he nodded in agreement.

“You’re right, I'm sorry Rover.” He half-smiled at the stuffed dog. “Did Rover see what happened to your mommy and daddy?” 

Wren once again held the dog tighter, nodding sadly as her eyes downturned. 

“The man made us go into the closet. I closed my eyes but Rover saw everything.” A tear trickled from her large green eye and Spencer couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and gently brushing it away.

She didn’t shy away from him, didn’t even flinch. And when he moved his hand away she grabbed one of his fingers in her own petite little hand. 

Her fingers wrapped so tightly around the digit, her fear evident in the small gesture. Her eyes were filled with tears making her already bright irises even more vivid. She looked Spencer in the eyes, keeping a firm grip on his finger. 

“He shot them. He killed them. My mommy and daddy are dead.” And with that a damn broke and her tears cascaded down her rosy cheeks. 

She let go of Spencer’s finger and fell into his arms where he knelt on the ground, nuzzling her little face against his chest, her tears soaking into his shirt. Tentatively he wrapped the girl in his arms, stroking back her raven head of curls and cooing to her that it would be ok. 

His eyes glanced up towards the window in the door where JJ and Rossi were staring right at him. Wren blew her nose on his tie and he shrugged lightly at his coworkers. 

“Damn, he’s good.” Rossi spoke on the other side of the door. 

“You expected anything less?” JJ smiled wistfully. 

***

When you returned to the BAU later that afternoon with Emily and Tara you were surprised to find the rest of the team, Garcia included, swarmed around Derek Morgan’s old office. 

The three of you approached curiously as the other members gathered around the lone window, clearly staring at something inside. 

“Uh, do we not have a case to be working?” Emily’s voice garnered the attention of the five other agents who spun to face her guiltily. 

You and Tara looked between their faces while they clearly decided who was going to be the one to answer. 

“You need to see this.” Luke spoke with amusement ripe in his voice. 

They parted like the Red Sea to allow the three of you to get to the window. You, Tara and Emily slowly stepped closer until the room beyond was in view. 

On the couch sat Spencer, head forward to his chest and eyes closed tightly. In his lap was a head of dark curls equally as unruly as his own, and a small body curled up next to him, clutching a stuffed toy. Both appeared to be sleeping, Spencer’s limp hand resting on the girl's shoulder. 

“That’s the Briar’s daughter.” JJ filled you all in. “Spence is the only one she would open up to.”

“The social worker got called away and he said he’d stay with her. How long they’ve been like this is anybody's guess.” Rossi added. 

“Isn’t it the most precious thing you’ve ever seen?” Penelope gasped happily. 

She wasn’t wrong. It was utterly adorable. And it warmed your heart and froze it in equal measure. Spencer looked so at home with the little girl, it was only then it occurred to you what an amazing dad he would be. But it wasn’t what you wanted. You weren’t ready for a family, for a child, not like he was. 

You took a few steps back from the window, feeling your heart ripping apart in your chest. You were crazy about Spencer, you weren’t ready for your relationship to come to an end. But if this was how he saw his future, you weren’t sure you could be a part of that.

No one seemed to notice you slip away, too busy watching the man and child sleep peacefully. 

***

Wren took a shine to Spencer in the way no one ever had before. Sure he was good with kids, but with her he didn’t even seem to need to try. 

Over the next few days he learnt that she was incredibly smart, smarter than any five year old he’d ever met before. He wondered if her parents ever had her IQ checked because he would be willing to bet she was gifted. 

She was inquisitive, curious about the world around her. At her instance he’d told her more facts about her namesake, moving onto other facts about other animals and then just facts in general. 

She hung off of his every word, asking questions if she didn’t understand and probing for more knowledge. 

She was gentle and kind and even despite the trauma Spencer could tell she was a happy kid. He was sure if anyone could bounce back from an ordeal of this magnitude it was her. Wren was resilient. 

And the more time Spencer spent with her, the more time he wanted to spend with her. 

She liked it when he read to her so he went out and brought a ton of her favourite books and would sit in Morgan’s old office and he would read. 

He brought his chess set in, thinking her curious mind would enjoy the challenge. She did. A lot. Even if she struggled to grasp the game, she was only five after all. 

But his heart swelled every single time she cautiously lifted a piece, looked up at him with her electric eyes and whispered, “can I move this thing over here?” 

He adored the little names she gave the pieces and stopped correcting her after a while. He preferred her names for them anyway. The prawn. The horsy. The pointy head. The pretty Queen and the brave King. 

She also loved cartoons so after a quick lesson from Garcia on how to operate a tablet and download Netflix, he would sit with Wren and let her watch her favourites on the device while she rested her head on his shoulder. 

He held her when she got sad and missed her mom and dad. He let her shed her tears against his shirt and blow her nose on as many of his ties as she needed. 

He had learnt long ago not to want for anything in life but he couldn’t help himself. This small child had in the space of a few days completely wormed her way into his heart and he never wanted to see a day where she wasn’t a part of his life. 

One more couple met the same fate as the Logan’s and Briar’s before they caught the guy responsible three days later. 

Wren clung to him as the social worker tried to get her to leave, small arms wrapped around his waist while she sobbed into his side and begged Spencer not to let her take her away. 

“Spencer, don't make me go!” She sobbed and screamed at the top of her little lungs. “I don’t want to leave you!” 

“Hey now,” he whispered, crouching down to her height and wiping her tears with the pads of his thumbs. “It won’t be forever ok? I just need to talk to Miss Carol real quick ok?” 

“I heard her talking on the phone, they want to take me away from you.” Her little lip quivered and it shattered his heart. 

“Wren, I promise you I will not let that happen ok? You just have to be brave for me and go with JJ for a moment. Can you do that?” He tucked her messy hair behind her ears.

Wren looked up with watery eyes at JJ who was smiling at her from behind Spencer. 

“You like books right, Wren?” JJ held out her hand. “I can read to you. Time will fly by.” 

Wren sniffled and looked back at Spencer who was trying to smile encouragingly at her. She suddenly flung her arms around Spencer’s neck and held him tightly as if he were her stuffed dog. He held her too, praying to gods he didn’t believe in that it wouldn’t be the last time. 

When she let go she reluctantly took hold of JJ’s hand so Spencer could be left alone with Carol, Wren’s social worker. 

Once JJ left the room with Wren, Spencer stuffed his hands in his pockets as he looked at Carol. 

“What’s going to happen to her?” He scuffed his toe on the worn carpet. 

“She doesn’t have any living relatives.” Carol shrugged. 

“So she goes into the system?” Spencer felt his heart plummet.

“I’m afraid so.” 

“She’s been through enough.” Spencer swallowed, his eyebrows furrowed deeply.

“Unfortunately that’s kind of a prerequisite for foster kids.” Carol sighed. 

“What, uh…what if I could take her?” His words surprised even himself despite the fact it wasn’t the first time he’d considered it. He’d been thinking about it pretty much non stop since he met Wren, but this was his first time saying it out loud. “I know I can’t just take her now, I did the research.”

“You did?” Carol frowned curiously at him. 

“Last night.” He nodded. “I mean I’m an FBI agent so presumably the background checks and stuff would be easy and I know I would need to buy a bigger place with a second bedroom but I started looking at places near Woodbridge, so Wren could still be near her friends and go to school.

I know there are applications and home studies that would need to be done and I know it’s arduous and expensive but I don’t care. I know it takes time but I can wait. I can wait if it means at the end of it all she’ll get to come home with me. I’d even quit the BAU so I could be home more often. I teach in my spare time at the university, much more stable hours, no travel. I am willing to do whatever it takes.” He was rambling and he knew it but he couldn’t stop. 

Carol listened intently, taking in his every word and looking at him curiously. 

“Doctor Reid,” she sighed a little. “I’m not sure all of that would be necessary simply to foster.”

Spencer suddenly frowned at her, not angry necessarily but frustrated that she misunderstood his intentions. 

He cleared his throat, stepped forward and removed his hands from his pockets. He straightened his back and looked Carol dead in the eyes. He needed her to know how serious he was about what he was about to say. 

“I’m not talking about fostering.” He shook his head. “I want to adopt her. I want to be her father.” 

***

As it turned out, adopting a child was even more hard work than Spencer ever anticipated. 

That night after his talk with Carol and after promising Wren several hundred times he would see her again really soon, he went home and delved deeper into the ins and outs of this particular venture. 

The easy part was the fact she’d been orphaned and there were no relatives to have to give over parental rights. That was where the simplicity started and ended.

Adopting a child could take anywhere from six to eighteen months. Not to mention the fact it could cost him anywhere up to forty thousand dollars. 

He’d need a bigger home, that much he already knew and a job with more stable hours which was easy enough to achieve. 

He would have to fill out applications, go through home studies and up to thirty hours worth of parental training. He’d need health exams, proof of income, references from several people close to him. 

All relatively achievable. 

But he would also have to undergo a criminal background check. Although he had been cleared of all charges, his time in prison hadn’t been expunged despite Emily’s attempts. He would have to explain that he spent three months in a federal facility for a murder he didn’t commit. 

Also there was the very real possibility that being a single male would hinder his chances of adoption. From what he’d read it shouldn’t be used to discriminate against him, but it certainly wouldn’t be in his favour. 

If the state thought they could place Wren with a family with two parents instead of one, they were more likely to do that than allow a single man in his late thirties to adopt her. 

If there was ever a time for him not to want for something desperately, with his entire heart, it was now. But for the life of him he couldn’t stop himself. 

But the most important thing he needed to do was talk to Wren. 

She might have enjoyed spending time with him, it might have helped take her mind off of watching her parents die, but that wasn’t to say she wanted to live with him. He needed to stop getting ahead of himself. 

He took a personal day from work and drove out to the halfway house she’d been placed in for the time being. If everything went to plan she wouldn’t have to be here too long. 

The second she saw him her entire face lit up, not just her dazzling green eyes. A huge smile plastered on her tiny face and she ran at full pelt towards him. 

Her wild mane of dark curls was tied back into a ponytail and flew behind her with her speed. When she reached him, Wren threw her arms around Spencer’s waist and squeezed him as tightly as her little body would allow.

“Spencer!” She snuggled against him while he in turn enveloped her in a tight embrace. “I missed you.” 

“I missed you too, pumpkin.” It was true, he had and it had only been one night. 

She let go of him before taking him by the hand and marching them both over to a nearby couch. She plopped down on it, he now noticed she had Rover dangling from one hand. 

Spencer sat next to her and she shuffled close to him, as though being near him offered her some kind of protection. 

“I don’t like it here.” She whined a little, choking the stuffed neck of her dog in tiny hands. 

“It'll only be for the short term.” He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “But you do understand that you can’t go home, don’t you Wren?” 

Her bottom lip pouted in that over dramatic way he’d grown used to. Tears sprung to her eyes as she nodded her head. 

“I miss my mommy and daddy.” She sniffled. 

“I know you do, sweetheart.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she rested her head on his rib cage. 

“I don’t want to live here forever.” She whimpered. 

“And you won’t.” He squeezed her gently. “I wanted to talk to you about that.” 

She raised her head so she could look at him, those large, emerald eyes seeing right through to his soul. 

“How would you…do you think you might…” he trailed off, words failing him. “I was thinking, if you’d like to, maybe you could come and live with me.” 

She blinked several times at him, watching, reading him. It was sometimes hard to believe she was only five years old. 

“I can do that?” One of her little eyebrows raised curiously. 

“If you’d like to. Only if you’d like to. But I would love to have you live with me, Wren. Have you heard of adoption?” He tucked another stray strand behind her ear. 

“No.” She shook her head. 

“That’s ok, I can explain it to you.” He smiled softly. “So when a child like you, loses their parents, they need somewhere to go. At the moment you’re in foster care which is temporary. There are foster families you can stay with but it won’t be like your real home. You might get moved around between different families from time to time. 

Adoption is permanent and that’s what I would like. If I were to adopt you I would become your legal guardian…your dad I suppose. You’d live with me at least until you turn eighteen, maybe longer if that’s what you wanted. You’d have a home for as long as you needed one, a family with me. It isn’t an easy process but one I would very much like to go through if that’s what you want.” 

Again the girl blinked him, probably only really understanding half of what he was saying. 

“I had a dad. He died.” She frowned. 

“I know, and I’m not…you don’t have to call me dad. I’m not trying to replace your dad. But I would be responsible for you.” 

“Would I have a new mom too?” Her frown deepened. 

“Uh, no. No mom, just me.” He shrugged. “Look Wren, I think you are a wonderful little girl and I would be absolutely honoured to be your adoptive dad. But I want what’s best for you and if you don’t want that then-”

“Can we play chess if I live with you?” She cut him off. 

“As often as you’d like.” He smiled.

“And will you read me bedtime stories?” 

“Every single night.” His smile grew. 

“Can I have a My Little Pony bedspread?” She started smiling too. 

“I don’t see why not.”

“What about Rover?” She suddenly gasped, clutching the small dog tightly. 

“What about him?” Spencer frowned. 

“Where will he live? I can’t go without him!” She was suddenly beside herself with panic and Spencer couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“It’s a good job I’ve got room for him too then, isn’t it?” 

Her eyes lit up again and sparkled in that innocent way that fed Spencer’s soul. Her lip twitched at the corner. 

“Really?” She bounced a little in the chair.

“Really.” He felt tears gathering behind his eyes. 

“Ok!” Wren nodded. “I think we would like that.” 

Spencer wanted to collapse into tears at those words. If Wren wanted to live with him he would do everything in his power to make that happen.

He knew as he looked at her sparkling eyes and tiny pure smile, he would go to the ends of the earth for this little girl. 

He already loved her with his entire being. And no matter what the adoption process threw at him, he would make it through. He would do it for her. 

***

When he handed his letter of resignation to Emily a week later and explained his reasons for leaving, she’d quite rightly been shocked. 

But she’d also been incredibly encouraging of his newfound love of an orphaned little girl. 

He glowed when he spoke about her, happier than she’d seen him in such a long time. And although she hated to lose him from the team, she knew it was for the greater good. 

The next step was a new home, a family home, one big enough for him and Wren. Between looking at houses and starting to pack up his own apartment, he hired an attorney to aid him in his adoption battle. 

Although it was the more expensive route, Spencer decided to go down the path of independent adoption. It would mean he would have to do the work an agency would normally do but he always had been a control freak. And he was far more invested in the outcome and would therefore work harder to get Wren home. 

He visited her every day. He took books and his chess set and they spent hours together in the halfway home. He showed her pictures of the houses he’d seen and asked her what she thought. 

One in particular was a cute three bedroom suburban home with a canary yellow picket fence and a green front door. Her little eyes had sparkled when she looked at it and she jabbed her finger at the printout. 

“I want to live here.” She got a little shy as she vocalised it. 

He wondered if it was because she knew. 

The house in question was less than a block from the home she’d witnessed the death of her parents in. She probably walked it past it frequently. 

He wasn’t sure that living so close to a place that held so many bad memories for her would be a good idea, but he also thought it might allow her to feel close to the family she’d lost. 

“Really?” He asked tentatively. “Do you know where it is?”

He nodded defiantly. 

“Near mommy and daddy’s house.” 

“And you want to live near their house? Won’t it make you sad?” 

“I'm always sad.” She confessed, pouting her lip drastically. “Except when you’re here.” 

His heart doubled in size, practically leaped right out of his chest. God he didn’t think it was possible to love her anymore than he already did but she kept proving him wrong. 

“You mean that?” He smiled, tears brimming in his eyes. 

“Yes.” She nodded again. “You make the bad go away.” 

His emotions betrayed him and a few tears fell from his eyes causing Wren to gasp. 

“Oh no! Why are you sad, Spencer?” She grabbed one of his fingers in her hand and squeezed it. 

“I'm not sad.” He smiled. “These are happy tears. I’m just…I’m just so happy I met you. I wish I could make everything better for you, I wish I could bring your mommy and daddy back, I do. But I promise you, as long as I’m alive, you have a family ok?” 

With her free hand she reached for Spencer’s cheek and brushed his tears the same way he did to her. Her little fingers were soft and a little damp. 

“I miss my mommy and daddy all the time.” She whispered as though it was a secret. “But I think they would be happy that you want to be my new family.” 

God she was so smart. Way smarter than her years. He really would need to have her IQ tested. 

“I hope so, pumpkin.”

“Why do you call me pumpkin?” She sat back, looking at him curiously. 

“Because I love Halloween.” And I love you. 

“I love Halloween!” She clapped her hands together. “Can we go trick or treating?” 

Spencer chuckled, yet again tucking her rogue hair behind her ears and off of her little rosy face.

“We can on Halloween. But right now it’s March, we have a few months before October.” 

“But can we go trick or treating on Halloween?” 

“Of course, pumpkin.”

Seven months. He had seven months until Halloween. Seven months to bring her home. 

He hoped he wasn’t making promises he couldn’t keep. The last thing this little girl needed was more disappointment. The last thing he needed was more disappointment. 

After that he spent the next hour watching Wren draw pumpkins and witches and ghosts in crayon while he told her facts about Halloween. 

He left with a picture she’d drawn for him. 

It was of the house with a canary yellow fence and green front door. In front of the house was Wren and Rover who was drawn wildly out of proportion. 

And then there was a tall, slim man with crazy curls holding Wren’s hand. 

In the bottom corner she’d scrawled in her childlike handwriting: my new family. 

***

That same day Spencer called his realtor and made an offer on the house in Virginia whilst putting his own apartment up for sale. 

He knew buying a house took time but it was time he didn’t have. He’d sent off his adoption applications and the background checks were in full swing but without the house he couldn’t start his home studies which at minimum took three months. 

At least once the background checks were out of the way he would be able to take Wren out of the halfway home for a few hours at a time, supervised by a social worker of course but it was better than nothing. 

He was prepared for the questions about his incarceration and had already discussed as such with his attorney. He had transcripts from his therapist who had cleared him for duty, citing him mentally sound. 

He had Emily write a letter explaining the whole situation, how he was framed and all the gory details surrounding the case and the proof of his innocence. 

He also had letters regarding his character from people who knew him well and could vouch for the fact he would be a great dad. One being from BAU co-founder David Rossi, a name that garnered respect everywhere he went. 

And in the capacity as a mother, Jennifer Jareau who talked at great lengths about how Spencer was the worlds greatest godfather to her boys and how amazing he was with them. 

Emily, Rossi and JJ were three great people to have on his side. 

He’d done everything he could for the time being and for the most part it was now just a painful waiting game. 

His house sale and purchase seemed to be moving smoothly so in his free time when he wasn’t teaching and he wasn’t with Wren, he continued packing up his apartment so he would be ready to get into his new house the second the sale was finalised. 

His apartment was mostly boxes these days, sad, taunting boxes filled with his possessions while he waited for the phone to ring. 

On his last visit to see Wren she’d told him exactly how she would like her new bedroom so some boxes contained flat pack furniture and paint cans. 

She wanted her walls to be orange and when he’d frowned and asked her why she simply replied, “because pumpkins.” 

He couldn’t very well argue with that. 

He managed to talk her down from a bright and garish orange to more of a burnt autumnal colour. She picked out her bed along with a My Little Pony bedspread, and wardrobes from magazines Spencer had shown her and he’d purchased strings of pumpkin shaped fairy lights. 

At her insistence, he’d also brought a dog bed for Rover. 

He may be jumping the gun, wasting his money on such things when he still had a long road ahead of him before he’d be able to take her home. 

And there was also the very real possibility he may never be able to take her home. 

Honestly, Spencer couldn’t let himself think of that. If he let himself consider that outcome he would crumble. 

In such a short space of time Wren had become his entire world and he couldn’t lose her. He wouldn’t lose her. 

He was packing up the last of his books when there was a knock at his apartment door. 

He spun to look at it, boxes piled so high it was like a labyrinth just to get to it. He frowned, mentally trying to ascertain a path but coming up empty. 

“Uh, who is it?” He called, trying to clamber closer.

A stretch of silence met his ears and in the meantime he stumbled over a box and narrowly avoided landing head first in another. 

“It’s Y/N.” You spoke eventually, sounding exhausted. 

He closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose. In all the stress surrounding him, he hadn’t given you a second thought. 

Fuck, I messed up. 

“Uh the door should be unlocked.” He called back and a moment or two later it opened.

You took a step inside, eyes quickly scanning the disarray in the room before finding Spencer’s face, poking out from between two piles of boxes. 

“Marco,” he joked but you didn’t laugh. 

“Were you ever going to tell me you quit the BAU?” You folded your arms over your chest, staying put by the front door. “And moving by the looks of things. Was I going to be the last person to find that out too?” 

“I’m so sorry.” He shrugged meekly, knowing he owed you more than a simple apology. “Everything is happening so fast. I needed to move quickly, the faster I get things sorted the faster she can come home with me.” 

Your frown deepened and he could see the confusion rolling off of you in waves. 

“What are you talking about? Who’s coming home with you?” 

He inhaled sharply, exhaled heavily. Of course Emily, Rossi and JJ knew of his adoption plans but he had asked them not to tell the rest of the team. If it didn’t work out he didn’t want them to be privy to his failure. 

But truthfully he expected them to spill the beans. He knew you’d all have a lot of questions regarding his sudden departure from the team and thought at least one of you would get it out of them. It appeared not. 

“Well, uh, I’m in the process of trying to adopt a little girl.” He shrugged and braced himself for your reaction. 

Your arms fell to your sides and your eyes doubled in size as you glared at him as though he’d told you he was going on a killing spree and not that he was adopting a kid. 

He supposed both would be equally concerning. 

“I’m sure I didn’t hear you right.”

“No, you did.” He tried to step closer to you but he seemed to have boxed himself into a corner quite literally. “You remember the couples that were killed in Virginia? I kinda bonded with one of the kids. Wren. Wren Briar. She’s in a foster facility at the moment but I’m working on adopting her.” 

Somehow the more he explained the less you understood. 

“Are you serious?” You scoffed. 

“Very.” 

“Jesus Christ, Spencer.” You shook your head in disbelief. “You bonded with a kid on a case and now you want to bring her home? Play happy families with a child who lost her parents?” 

“Yes, that’s exactly what I want to do.” He tried to shuffle between the piles of boxes but was once again thwarted. 

“Do you realise how insane that sounds?” Your tone was incredulous. 

“Why does that sound insane? She needs a family and I’ve always wanted one.” He frowned at you. 

Of course he understood why you may be concerned but he hadn’t expected this reaction. 

“So you meet someone, you get married. And when the time is right you start a family.” 

“I have tried that! I’ve tried it the “normal” way and that’s never worked out for me. I am thirty nine years old, I don’t know how much longer I can wait.” He was growing angry. 

“So you’re just skipping to the end? Spencer this is not how you dreamed of having a kid!”

“No, you’re right, it’s not!” He suddenly raised his voice, shoving over a pile of boxes in his way so he could get closer to you. “I dreamed of having kids with Maeve and then she was killed in front of me. Then I dared to dream of having a family with you but you shot that idea right down. It’s not ideal, I am aware of that. But goddammit I love that little girl and I will give her a home. I will be her family and she will be mine.” 

“Spencer,” you softened, his eyes wild and scaring you a little. “She’s what, five? She’s already on her way to becoming a fully realised human being. Her personality is already formed, she’s had five years of life where you weren’t a part of it and you just expect her to fall seamlessly into the role of your daughter? Have you ever even considered how hard it’s going to be for her? She lost her parents, they are dead. You really think you can just swoop in and pretend to be her father when she watched her real dad die?” 

“Get out.” He spat harshly. “Get the fuck out of my home.” 

“Spencer I-”

“No, don’t. If you’re not going to be helpful then you can leave.” 

You shook your head in sadness at him, sighing deeply. 

“I might not be ready for a family right at this second but I didn’t once say I wouldn’t want one someday. But you’re so determined to rush this, to skip to the happy ending. We could have had that one day.” 

“That’s not good enough for me.” He finally lowered his voice. “I’m in love with you Y/N, I know I’ve never said that before but I am. And I don’t want to wait to start a family because I love you. But if we don’t want the same things then we have no future. I’m adopting Wren, no matter what it takes and if you can’t be happy for me then walk away.” 

And without another word, that’s exactly what you did. You walked away. 

In another scenario, maybe even in another life you would have told him that you loved him too. 

Instead you simply walked away. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

[aluhnim]

Hello!! When you start a comic, how do you go about deciding your panelling layouts?? If this is too big of an ask for covid brain, how about your favorite song of the moment / a song that really inspires you?? I hope you feel better soon!

I was searching around for an old write up I did for some Original Character Tournament folks who were interested in my thoughts on panels and layouts. To try and answer your question, I go off of vibe now that I’ve made a LOT of comics. However, as much as it doesn’t seem like it at times, I do typically stay as “conventional” as possible to make sure my readers are still following the plot. I make a lot of adjustments along the way. Smarter layouts allow me to draw less, and drawing less is better for me in the long run! It’ll allow me to put more time in other places of the comic.

Anyway, here’s my write up back in the day that’ll hopefully answer some comic drafting questions!

More conventional paneling is a necessary stepping stone because you know your reader won’t get lost and the structure will have you more focused on flow and pacing. It seems remarkably easy to do comics with more “static” or traditional panel layouts but they work for a reason. There’s no real need to break out of something that works, unless you want to! Breaking out of the structure can really add some OOMPH to your important pages.

Some tips, note that these have been my preferences and some definitions don’t quite match their descriptors.

Bleed

I consider open panels or panels that stretch out beyond the edge of the page to be considered bleeds. They’re simple ways to make you feel like your not just sticking within your margins and making your page feel less static without much extra effort. Manga does this quite often, and Western American comics, especially during action packed moments or large splashes.

Some examples of things bleeds can do:

- They can also be used as transitions between pages (first panel bleeding in, last panel bleeding out).

- They can be used to interrupt or add a beat to a moment. Although the example below is mostly bleeds, you can see the one full panel at the bottom stands out because it’s not like the others. A subtle beat.

- They can also just be used to extend a panel to make it bigger. That seems obvious, but larger panels do make people spend a bit more time on them, regardless if there is text or not. Though, “more time” means probably several milliseconds or even a few seconds more than usual.

- Collaging with a bleed is a really great way to think beyond panels and open the space. You will be spending more time thinking of how much you can cram in along with the flow of how your text is going to lead through a series of images.

- Removing panel borders can really open a space and allow for more room without having to go above and beyond the ideas of comics and panels. (sorry, gale galligan is just good)

Gutters

The space between panels is almost just as important as the panel itself. That’s where readers and inferring actions and time. You can only control so much of what the reader is doing between their eye shifting between panels, which is why composition within panels and clarity are so important.

Gutters can also be played with! A simple example is changing your gutters from white to all black. It can be a subtle shift in time, a transition to a new space.

Even the amount of space between panels leaves an idea of time! I think webtoons/manhwa really work well with the gutter space, leaving you to physically scroll and feel the effects of time passing with the amount of empty space you encounter.

It’s important to understand that the gutter has a lot more to do with reader imagination, and your goal is to have them understand that the next panel is somehow plausible.

THIS SCENE EMFIELDS DID IS VERY FUCKING GOOD. TIME, SPACE, GO OOOOOOFFFF KING

Panels themselves can be a part story!

This one is a difficult thing to write for, since I feel like there isn’t many examples out there. There are very structural examples of panels out there, like Watchman. While the 9 panel grid was intentional, it also was likely the only way to deal with Alan Moore’s script effectively without missing details. The panels themselves don’t ENHANCE the story, but a means to an end.

But it’s also an incredibly good example of how conventional comics paneling can still be effective, especially when you start breaking that mold just a little bit.

But then you have comics like M. Dean’s “Baby fat”. Where the comic paneling itself never strays from its original structure, but is indicative of the story itself, representing tiles, mirrors, patterns.

Or Robert Hunter’s “The New Ghost” which he uses circular motifs and has circular panels representing the telescopes sight line.

Predicting Reader Navigation

These are my rules of thumb when doing general sight reading panel by panel.

1. Text is what people gravitate to first. It’s the context needed to approach the next panel.

2. Faces are next, this provides context to what the subject is feeling.

3. Familiar people/animals/objects and SFX.

4. Everything else!

This is an example of sight reading notes I gave to my friend Holocene when we were collaborating.

#long post #asks #blogging

[howtofightwrite]

Followup: Oragnized Crime Recruitment

The Godfather book and the Mafia games, specifically the first Mafia game, are the closest examples of what the Original Asker wants for his game. Goodfellas is another potential example to base the process of one's recruitment into the criminal underworld. In general, recruitment in fiction is generally based on doing jobs and earning a reputation as to one's success at doing jobs. In Goodfellas, Henry Hill started off doing simple, legal-ish errands for the local mafia before the gangsters saw his potential and entrusted him with more illegal jobs. Original Asker's character could therefore be someone who is affiliated with a mobster, but not part of the inner circle until the character pulls off jobs which makes them someone worth recruiting to the organization. Or one could go the Tommy Angelo route and save a mobster's life. -ironwoodatl01

So, it's worth remembering that Goodfellas is (in broad strokes) non-fiction. Henry Hill was a real person. (1943-2012) He was an associate of the Lucchese family. There are some historical, “inaccuracies,” with the film. Though, his arrest in 1980 for narcotics, and turning state's witness is historically accurate, though the film skims over the part where he was ejected from the witness protection program in 1987. Goodfellas was adapted from Nicholas Pileggi's non-fiction book, Wiseguy. I haven't read the book, but it's plausible that some of the historical discrepancies may have come from the book.

In this case, the OP specifically wanted to avoid a background where someone grew up in the neighborhood. Which, I mean, that is their choice, but it is a very popular recruitment method, in part because it's very effective at screening out potential cops, or even recruiting potential tame cops down the line.

Ironically, thinking back now, Mafia, the original Saints Row, and Franklin's arc from GTA5 are all potential reference points for what the OP wanted, and thinking back on it now, they were asking for input on a game, rather than prose, so I should have factored that in with the original ask. The tricky thing about each of those examples is that they're dependent on a lot of very specific moving parts in their respective stories. (Though, to be fair, I barely remember the original Mafia.) None of them are strictly realistic, but they're all internally plausible, when you start factoring in the various character motivations at work.

For some reason, I'm reminded of the Thieves Guild recruitment in Skyrim, which is one of the goofiest criminal recruitments I've seen in a non-parody. Brynjolf grabs some random psychopath wandering through and says, “ah, yes, you must be a master of pickpocketing and interested in a life of crime.” Does it make any sense? Nope. Does it go a long way towards explaining why the Thieves Guild is falling apart? Yeah, kinda, when you think about it. Does the introduction work? For some players, yes.

If the player wants to get into a questline, the justification can be pretty flimsy and still work for that player. Usually we talk about suspension of disbelief like it's a universal constant, but it's individual per member of your audience. Normally, you want to do whatever you can to ensure the suspension of disbelief is as strong as possible. However, in a game, the player's own emotional investment can help shore up weak points.

I'm going to take a quote out of context (a little), but I'm reminded of a quote from Richard K. Morgan about Halo, “[it] is full of these bullshit archetypal characters and there's no real emotional effect.” And, while he was certainly dragged for that quote (and, really the entire interview, it was a mess), he wasn't wrong. The writing in Halo isn't what does the heavy lifting, a large part of that is the player's effort to get through the story. And, in basically any other medium, this would be an exceptionally bad thing.

You won't make your novel better by forcing your audience to complete reflex tests before they start each chapter.

But, with video games, the gameplay interludes, can actually build emotional investment for the player. Even on very flimsy premises.

I've often written about how writing in different mediums requires different approaches and has different strengths. If you want gorgeous combat, then live action or animation are the best forms for you story. If you want visually striking images that linger, comics might be the right choice. If you really want to get into a character's head and live there, prose will let you do that with a level of fine control that is difficult to replicate. (And, note, there's a lot of different pros and cons, so this isn't an exclusive list.) The funny thing is, if you want your audience to do the heavy lifting for suspension of disbelief, that's one of the places where video game writing really shines.

And so we loop back to the Skyrim example. Brynjolf's approach to finding new talent is absolute clown shoes, but it's something you might not notice if this is why you wandered into Riften. It only becomes a problem when you're just there to snuff Grelod the Kind, or are looking for someplace to unload all this garbage you picked up while delving into a Dwemer ruin up in the mountains.

This doesn't mean you should abandon the idea of good writing, but if your player is on the same page as you, you won't need to worry about having something completely believable. For example, the plot-line of Mafia, or (the original) Saints Row.

-Starke

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#writing reference #writing advice #writing tips #starke answers #how to fight write

[toriangeli]

How Armand's AMC background might work with the changes

TW: Mentions of physical, sexual, and religious abuse.  You know, Armand stuff.

Age

First off, it’s not that big a deal for Armand to be aged up for his turning.

I’ve said it before, but being turned, especially very young, can be considered analogous to arrested development caused by trauma.  In the books, getting this across is helped by repeatedly describing a teenager doing/saying these immature things.  In live action media, though, it can be conveyed in a performance.  A bit like how The Umbrella Academy removed Klaus’ ability to float because it was a metaphor for him being constantly high, and Robert Sheehan’s performance conveyed his state of mind so well they didn’t need the visual aid.

Armand is still developmentally frozen in places at those times some new trauma came about—pre-adolescent with the sheer hardship of his childhood, thirteenish with the monks (or equivalent in the show if they keep that bit), also thirteenish getting sex trafficked, then again whenever the Children of Darkness/Satan overturn his life.  Throughout this entire time, the only time he was safe enough to have normal-ish emotional development was during his relationship with Marius, and it didn’t happen because his need for safety meant him foreclosing on whatever identity he thought Marius would want him to have, and relying on Marius to regulate his emotions instead of learning to regulate them himself.  No matter how safe Marius is compared with the rest of Armand’s life, Marius isn’t a psychotherapist and is too flattered by Armand’s total dependence on him to reliably break him of it.  He’s too busy cuddling him and feeding him soup instead of teaching him how to self-soothe, having the same expectations of him as he would have with an adult: that he already knows how to do the things he needs to do in order to be a person.

All this to say Armand isn’t necessarily going to be significantly more mature just because he was turned older, especially since Marius was enabling his emotional dependence on him.

The only difference I could see miiiight be if he spends significantly more time under Marius’ tutelage.  Marius is the only person in his entire life who actually tries to teach him right from wrong, and it’s pretty critical to his character that it didn’t take.  Marius himself notes this at one point during the “banquet” scene, seeing Armand is trying to react how he thinks his master wants him to react, not being properly horrified by people dying.  If Marius has time to actually correct this (which, who knows how long that would take, Armand has been stuck permanently in this state for a long time already), that could make a difference to his characterization.  But the likelihood of Marius successfully teaching him right from wrong was always pretty damn low, given how his method is “Do something heinous, get mad if Amadeo doesn’t cry.”

Origins

This is a little tricky, but it ultimately boils down to one thing: religion.

He’s Turkic, and it’s plausible for him to be Crimean Tatar, but he couldn’t have been trafficked by them the way he was in the books.

Among Turkic people in Armand’s day, an extremely common language, both speaking and in literature, was Chagatai.  This was spoken among Muslims in eastern Europe, as well as central Asia, the Caucasus, and the Ottoman Empire.  Today, Chagatai is a dead language, and while there are experts, it’s entirely possible your dramaturg won’t be able to contact one.  If that’s the case, what modern language is the most similar?  Turns out, Uyghur and Uzbek.

What language does Armand end his prayer in in Dubai?  Uzbek.

If Armand is indeed Muslim (which would be the most narratively satisfying option—for him to be forcibly converted in his early life and find his own religion again later), you did have a more diverse population among Crimean Tatars back then than we have today, especially since Stalin’s genocide.  You had some who came from as far south as Iran, where you can get people as dark as Assad, even if it’s uncommon.  But it being uncommon (aka “exotic”) would be all the more reason he’d get targeted for sex trafficking.

Speaking of.  Islamic and Christian laws forbade enslaving someone of the same faith.  So whoever kidnaps him in this version of events is almost certainly Christian.  The Venetians had a slave trade that was leaving the area for Africa due to the conquest of Constantinople by the Ottomans, but with a little wiggling of decades, we can imagine there were still Venetian slavers raiding the Black Sea.  Since Armand ends up in Venice, this would make particular sense.

One more thing remains: the monks of the Caves.  An order which, as far as I’m aware, only existed in Kiev.  Why would a little Muslim boy be tempted to join an order of Christian monks?  I mean, Islam definitely has its own brands of asceticism, but if we’re trying to make as few changes as possible, I’d still buy it being these monks.  Speaking as someone who was raised evangelical, children are often targeted in the hopes of converting the entire family.  I have no idea how likely that would be for a bunch of Eastern Orthodox monks and a Muslim family way back when, but personally, I’d buy it.

Realistically, would he still live near Kiev (which was part of Lithuania at this time) if he’s from the Crimean Khanate?  Probably not.  But I wouldn’t sweat it.  And I can’t find whether there were any other Muslim groups who lived in/near Kiev.

Timeline

Show!Armand was turned older, so there are years that must be accounted for.  I think he must have been trafficked at a similar age as in the books, because it makes the most sense—he’s very young, but old enough that he doesn’t have to be “raised” anymore.  So he either spent longer in the brothel, or with Marius, or the years are split between.  If it’s at the brothel, they might kick him out once he gets older, and Marius rescues him off the streets instead of from the brothel.  Instead, or in conjunction, he could spend more time with Marius.  My concern is, if the underage aspect of their relationship is cut, it could sanitize Marius too much.  Armand isn’t meant to have any models for healthy relationships in his history, and Marius expecting a kid to meet his emotional needs the way an adult would, in addition to the power discrepancies so typical of pederastic relationships in Marius’ time, explains a lot about both characters.

On the other hand, I don’t want too many flashbacks where a younger actor is playing Armand.  I want to see Assad tackle as much as possible.  He is so damn good.

Then there’s also the complication mentioned above of how vital it is that Armand never learned right from wrong.  And they are still bound by what the network will permit (a reason I’m not sure Claudia’s “surgery” will take place).

It’s possible they could just leave the timeline vague.  Assad is babyfaced enough for it to be ambiguous how old he is at any given time.  I wouldn’t want it to be too vague, though, lest the effectiveness of either possible version of events be diminished.

Conclusion

I don’t have any conclusions about what they’ve chosen to do.  These are all just possibilities.  I think that’s valid in its own right.

All in all, I think they have a great opportunity to flip the stereotype of the brown person becoming more “civilized” because of white people and show Armand’s problems as being caused, in significant part, by losing his own identity and culture, and in total part by the imperialist ideals of the West.

Reading up on all of this history to figure out the possibilities has given me a greater appreciation for why they would make the choice to cast Armand as non-white.  Armand may be white in the books, but he’s not Western, and even though I’m sure she didn't mean to, Anne did tap into that “the West is here to civilize everyone” narrative.  It’s actually something Marius is (intentionally hypocritically) big on—“civilization.”  He took this wild Eastern European kid from the shitty life that came to him because of non-white slavers (who were very much a big deal at the time, but they’ve been used to justify the beliefs of white supremacists since the time of Hitler) and gave him a happy, comfortable life, albeit via a deliberately creepy relationship.  Here in the US, we don’t think of Eastern Europeans as “not white enough” the way they’ve been historically seen in Europe, so I doubt Anne realized she'd accidentally written a story about the “savage” child being victimized by a tribe of "evil" Mongols and rescued by an ”enlightened” white guy (though if you haven’t read the books, keep in mind that Marius is not nearly as enlightened as he believes and doesn’t spend all that much time in the “civilization” he supposedly treasures).

Flip that, make him Islamic, and his slavers must by necessity be Western, so the people who take apart his life are all coming from that angle of “we have the right to do this because we are better.”  And it does not stop after he becomes a vampire. What’s harming Armand isn’t a series of unrelated catastrophes, but an entire culture of imperialism.  The Golden Horde doesn’t exist today.  Actual Crimean Tatars in the 21st century are oppressed minorities.  But the imperialist mindset in Western culture remains, this idea that we are more “civilized” than others.  And that’s something this show can actually speak to that will resonate.

#iwtv #amc iwtv #armand #the vampire armand #iwtv speculation #stuff nobody asked for #marius de romanus #please do not treat me like an expert #i tried #this is just a blitz of ideas #partly brought on by the frustration that i will be out of the country when the season premieres #and i'm curious as fuck

[lakesbian]

okay, as i have been encouraged by the public (like 2 people) to go forward with this research, i present the very scientific Tier List of Blonde Wildbow Characters Ranked From Most to Least Likely to Have A Piss Kink. virtually no one wanted this post. i did not want this post. it is 2.1k words long. i wanted to inform you of that before you clicked read more in case you were just expecting a tier list image and did not actually want to read 2.1k words about piss kinks.

wherein:

the tier list exists because of this ask, which was written in jesting response to the subject of victoria dallon's canon piss kink (more on that below) and somewhat intentionally misrepresented by me as being contextless because i thought it was funny to crop it and reply with 'ok.' which led to a massive containment breach and several thousand people not realizing anon was trying to make a joke. sorry. my bad, anon.

here, "likelihood of having a piss kink" is defined as "likelihood of having a kink that involves primarily or significantly urine," and genre of piss kink shall be clarified for the characters where it's a possibility.

no pictures are included for the characters because not all of them have fanart and also there's a lot of them and the tier list is only so big and i'm lazy

characters i do not know well enough to vibe check are not included

rationally speaking it would make most sense to presume that unless a character has a canon or heavily implied piss kink it is heavily implausible for them to have one but this post would be boring and pointless if i went that route so i'm going to include some somewhat baseless vibe-checking/discussion of hypotheticals where it's not explicitly disproven or improbable. with my bestest attempts to remain reasonable levels of character accurate given the post circumstances.

our ranks here are:

canon: this character canonically has a piss kink

highly plausible: there is strong contextual evidence that could be used to argue for the presence of a piss kink

plausible: based on more vibes/less solid evidence than "highly plausible," but a piss kink is still possible

could go either way: there is a lack of evidence in either direction, there's no way to make a clear argument on the matter

not very plausible: there is decent contextual evidence or simply Character Vibes that could be used to argue against the presence of a piss kink

strong evidence against: it can be deemed nigh-certain that this character does not have a piss kink

The Chart:

the characters who were not included because i do not know them personally (opinions welcomed):

all three ashleys

bianca

The Analysis:

Canon:

victoria: stated by wildbow to have some kind of "preferred fluid" you shouldn't drink, knows what urine tastes like. canon watersports kink. i hate her. i hope she stands within 20 feet of fentanyl and overdoses and dies. i hope she goes down a slide too hard.

Highly Plausible:

citrine: we know that accord is certainly and without doubt enough of a control freak (<- said w/ deep affection) that he insists that his ambassadors refrain from Wanton and Unprofessional Bathroom Breaks, but also insists that they never indicate they have to pee (or engage in any other basic bodily function) ever because that's Icky and if they do he will want to Rube Goldberg Machine But The Machine Is A Saw Trap them about it. and we know that citrine gets off on him being a control freak. it can thus be reasonably extrapolated that she's constantly doing accidental omorashi w/ accord and is just as into that as she is all the other aspects of control. the piss is incidental--the main point is still whatever appeals to her about the control in general--but, like, The Piss Is There. extremely does not want to experience what would happen if she ever even remotely fucked up holding, but presumably enjoys the mortifying ordeal of attempting to politely excuse herself to the restroom and/or stoically holding so she doesn't have to excuse herself in the first place.

paige (pact): she textually, literally, canonically, For Fucking Real, is a lesbian who enters into the world of pactverse magic because she's tempted by a hypothetical dom/sub dynamic with a hot professor who is actually a sphinx. (if any of you who haven't read pact yet are reading this post. Please go read pact.) this extrapolation is less blatant than citrine, but it's by no means unreasonable to assume that there could be some bladder control going on here. she can go to the bathroom when she's a good girl and finishes answering all of isadora's questions. etc. hey do you think pactverse would have really hardcore RACK omorashi where you make a statement that you are NOT going to go until [x amount of time] and it's your karma on the line if you fuck it up. i bet people with executive dysfunction in pact do this type of shit a lot. they're like i am going to start my homework RIGHT NOW!!! and then they Have to. i digress.

Plausible:

peter: we have no information about his love life beyond him flirting with ainsley amidst a Serious Disaster involving Demons, so this is just vibes-based, but he's mean and manipulative and unpleasant in a specific way that could theoretically insinuate that he would enjoy accidentally-on-purpose preventing a girl from getting to the bathroom & watching her squirm. you'll have to trust me on this.

Could Go Either Way:

ellie: my consultant re the pelhams vibes-based ranked her higher than peter, but i don't see it. i could see her having one, but it'd be in a different and grosser direction than peter. i feel like blake's comparison of her to a weak, groveling dog in a pack may be relevant here.

rose (old): i don't strongly see it, but based on what we know about her sex life i wouldn't be surprised if she participated in any heat-of-the-moment watersports.

rose (young): somehow coming in with the exact right bizarre psychosexual complexes to score higher than both blake and pre-meiosis thorburn. i don't think it's likely, but i somehow don't see a reason to mark her down as entirely implausible. her theoretical psychosexual complex about blake is marked by a few facts: she says that he has a "hate-on" for her, she does that weird thing where she hugs him for comfort & lets him give her his jacket (what if the lamb you were leading to slaughter was the man you could've been, and for just a moment, you wanted to take kindness from The Man You Could've Been despite the fact that, because you are not him, you will betray him regardless), when he sacrifices himself to fuse with/bolster her the fusing is described in ostensibly sexual language (being Inside her, the two halves grinding, etc), and she does that whole noticeable twice-over to his almost-naked body. she would absolutely never admit to wanting to fuck her "clone," but were she to envision it, the scenario she would mentally craft would involve blake wanting to fuck her (he never would & she knows this) and, like, eating her out like he wants to kill her or doing some boot frotting with splinters. oh and she would give him the most awkward dry unpleasant handjob on the planet where she's very clearly treating him like a program to experiment with, press button A and find out if it gets result B. I digress. one could also imagine a theoretical rose thorburn piss kink which remains an entirely subconscious psychosexual fixation that she freudian-slips into conversation at least once a la "hate-on," wherein the ideal scenario for her earlier into the book would be wetting herself for reasons entirely against her control despite being so very brave and stalwart and stoic, and imaginary blake is like "wow you were so brave and stoic about that...it's ok everyone has gotten into an awkward spot once or twice in their lives. in fact, [personal recounting of relevant horrible memory]. here have my jacket i will tie it around your waist for you with a lingering amount of physical contact." and later into the book that would switch to just Making The Fuck Up that he'd be really mean and humiliating about it and then getting mad about her imaginary vision of him doing that even though he literally would not do that ever. (the hypothetical of him being mean about it would be a kink thing for her also obviously. Hate On, she says.) okay sorry for talking so much about rose thorburn's psychosexual fixation with blake thorburn i think it's really funny for her to be extremely abnormal about the clonefucking quandary.

fell: i don't actually know him well enough to postulate what genre it would be if he hypothetically had one but despite not Expecting that he has one i wouldn't find it wholly implausible if wildbow got up tomorrow and made an announcement declaring that he does. i think this could be utilized primarily for the humor purposes of, like. blake being like "hey i know we can't really pull over right now BUT could you pull over? i need to take a leak. should i say want to? is it technically lying if i say need but it's not an emergency yet?" and fell being like No. Do Not Say Another Word On This Subject And Also I Hate You. which is because he is desperately and fervently and furiously and with great and genuine anger and rage attempting to Not think about Blake Thorburn, A Conventionally Attractive And Very Annoying Man, having to pee. but blake interprets it as fell being an asshole for no reason and is like ohhh ok fuck you i guess should i just pee on your seat then. you want me to ruin your car seat? [accusatory, fully bluffing, would rather kill himself than piss in fell's car] you're a car guy who doesn't even care about your fancy white upholstery? and fell is like [desperately doing mental math on if blake thorburn, whomst is already covered in fleas and bloods and mysterious liquids, would be petty enough to intentionally piss himself to ruin fell's car] . I will make you walk. like you can see my vision right.

Not Very Plausible:

kathryn: i simply do not see it. she could have something weird going on but it's not a piss kink. the vibes are not being served.

sandra: also a simple matter of the vibes not being there. has probably been exposed to it at one time or another but sees it as undignified and so on

callan: not sensing it

lisa: bathroom shit is surely beyond mundane to her just like everyone elses private bodily workings thoughts feelings etc. i dont even think she has any kinks or interest in sex in general

crystal: this is the only interesting one in this section! she was described to me as "very laid back, but also kind of passive. she's a slob in her private life. sort of goes with the flow to the point that it led her joining a paramilitary force with no oversight." i think being in the dallon-pelham torment nexus sort of intrinsically adds +20 Not Likely points unless youre victoria but i can only assume from this description of her personality that if someone she was fucking was into it she would just roll with it.

neil: was described to me as "neil barely gets anything. he's kind of reckless? he trained victoria a lot. he cheated on his wife with her sister. he liked knocking toddler-aged victoria over as a form of 'training.'" probably not very likely at all but who knows. maybe "declines to fuck sarah and watches panty pissing porn instead" is on his list of secrets next to "cheated on his wife with her sister."

Strong Evidence Against:

carol, paige (worm) (this is canary in case you forgot like i did), cuff, theo, sarah: the club of generic respectable milquetoast cishets who would not do any of that shit and would probably judge someone at least a little for any amount of kink (or in some cases even vanilla sex <3), with paige coming on on the less-judgemental end of the scale and carol coming in at the high end of the judgement scale.

ciara: not generic milquetoast or respectable but the idea of her being into it is just like. silly to me. faerie queens aren't into piss that would be ridiculous. unless they're pactverse faerie queens, then it's a "got bored of it 31 centuries ago" situation, but ciara is not a pactverse faerie.

elle: already struggles with keeping up with hygiene and like...general Existence. surely would not associate any bodily function w/ anything but a task to complete or a mess to clean (<- other task). also presumably might need help going to the bathroom/being reminded that she needs to go sometimes so that certainly would not b anywhere near sexual to her

scion: uh. well. I don't think he knows what any of that shit is to be real with you. Does he even fucking count as blonde?

blake: is textually extremely triggered and distressed and disgusted by being dirty/unclean & losing control over his physical body, to the point where not being able to regularly shave is actively seriously detrimental to his mental health. his tragic character arc of having his identity degraded to the point where "is that still blake" becomes debatable a la ship-of-theseus question is viscerally represented by the fact that bogeyman-blake is just constantly filthy, to the point of turning snow into gray, stained slush when he walks thru it. struggling to deal with basic bodily functions & cleanliness while homeless absolutely severely traumatized him. he would react to someone else wetting themselves with, like, appropriately blake-like levels of kindness & concern, but he would still 100% find the actual piss disgusting. he would try to avoid showing it, but he would find it disgusting. we see him reacting with immense horror to conquest threatening to make him soil himself. if he were ever actually forced into a circumstance where he was genuinely worried about the possibility of pissing himself--let alone if he actually did so--he would have a Category 5 DEFCON 1 Mental Health Moment. all of which is a great reason he should have pissed himself at least once during pact! (<- i just elaborated on this point at such great length i had to force myself to backspace it all and move onto the next bulletpoint)

PMT: exact same trauma as blake. because you know. They were Blake before they got got. unlike blake, still capable of wanting to fuck people, but, like, We Know They're Not Doing Anything With Piss. leatherdyke piss kinkster pmt is a beautiful beautiful vision but its not true.

there you go. thats it. thats the tierlist.

[fullyinconsequential]

Here’s a 3am Steddie rant I think every Steddie lover (and possibly hater) should hear. I have no goal to convert anyone—just to say that the ship did not actually “come from nothing.” Here’s why:

I don’t understand how there wasn’t Steddie foresight in the writer’s room.

So they play it up in season 3 like Steve just can’t get the girl and when he does she’s not the right girl and yada yada yada—cool beans. I love his character arc with Robin, their friendship, her queerness. I love their entire bathroom interaction.

Specifically: “It’s somebody that I didn’t even talk to in school. Maybe cuz Tommy H. would’ve made fun of me, or I wouldn’t be prom king…. First of all, she’s hilarious. So funny. I feel like this summer I have laughed harder than I have laughed in a really long time. And she’s smart—way smarter than me…. She’s honestly unlike anyone I’ve ever met before.”

Traits Robin Also Has that Eddie Shares:

Outcast

Band Kid

The Witty Banter

Eddie’s personality is VERY Robin. Not perfectly so, but maddeningly close.

Another point:

This is just the same person in different gender specific fonts, A.K.A. Steve’s “love interest” versus a guy who called him “big boy” completely unprompted and interrupted a tender moment between him and his “love interest” and complimented him for an entire scene while Steve wore his clothes.

So, really, one of them’s Steve’s love interest and the other is Nancy Wheeler /hj.

I write a lot, and as someone who both writes and consumes an abhorrent amount of media, whoever wrote this down, casted and costumed this way, and allowed for the interactions between Steve and Eddie to be as nuanced as they were (EX: the scene in which Eddie steps forward like he has more to say to Steve before he goes off and kills himself) had to have known what was going to happen. There is simply no way of not seeing it.

And if they didn’t want people shipping Steddie at the scale which they do, here’s what went wrong:

First: defaulting to Steve wanting his ex back is just plain shitty writing. It means you don’t know where to go with the character anymore, and since you’re certain he’s done all the growing he can do, he’s just gonna double back to the conflict he was in in the FIRST SEASON.

Are you serious right now, bro?

Steve’s arc as a character has been absolutely heartwarming to watch. If anything, he’d have been better off given the “I need to figure out how to be happy on my own” narrative. Throwing him back at Nancy is a cop out, a big one.

Second: Eddie. Throwing Eddie in the mix was absolutely a WILD decision, because he looks like Nancy, he banters like Robin, and GENDER IS NO LONGER A PLAUSIBLE REASON FOR AN AUDIENCE TO DENY CHEMISTRY, OR EXPLAIN IT AWAY. Not in the year of our lord 2023, no sir. Not unless you’re going to explicitly state in some way to an audience that these characters are DEFINITIVELY STRAIGHT. And with Eddie, they went as far off that course as possible.

The outcast stuff. The D&D stuff. The hatred of the system. The mysteriously living with his uncle and not his parents. THE HANKERCHIEF IN HIS BACK POCKET.

So essentially, this is what they did:

They took a beloved character, flubbed over his character arc because they weren’t sure what to do with it.

Then, they created a SECOND beloved character, made him likable, lovable, even, and relatable. Then they gave him half and half personality and looks of Steve’s last two love interests. Then they gave us scenes of them together where they showed chemistry, genuineness, and playfulness.

Then they EXPECTED that we as an audience had enough heteronormativity left as a society to say—oh, those two guys aren’t flirting with each other even a little bit because they’re two guys and obviously that doesn’t happen.

WHEN IN THE SAME SEASON WE WATCHED WILL AND ROBIN GO GAY PANIC AND DESPAIR LIKE?????

Pick a side pick a side, are your characters fucking gay or is your audience fucking blind?

Point being, I have some friends IRL who don’t really get this. They think Steve and Eddie hardly interacted enough for there to be romance at all, but I think it’s less about how much they interacted and more about the (unintentional) set up they were given by the writers.

Steve’s a truly beloved character and I don’t know on ST fan that wants to see him just end up back with Nancy Wheeler like his entire character arc was just to “get the girl” and “have six kids.” Which he already has by the way.

Anyway, that’s just my two cents. I’m not advocating for anyone to ship them, I’m just saying it’s honestly a perfectly logical conclusion to make, especially if you CARE about Steve as a character, you know? We want him to be with someone genuine, someone who challenges him to be better, to be different than he was. Nancy couldn’t handle doing that. Robin could, but they’re platonic af.

So why wouldn’t it be Eddie?

Rest in peace, by the way. You would’ve loved this text post.

#stranger things #steddie #writers #eddie munson #steve harrington #bisexual #gay #lgbtq #stranger things 4 #ultimately I’m just very confused by the writers #their choices seem so deliberate but they can’t possibly be #who instructed Joe to take that step forward? #what was the point of ‘for your modesty dude’ #why make Steve’s only character trait needing a girlfriend? #why not make Eddie’s character a girl? #the Lance mcclainification of Steve harrington

[tanadrin]

i think you can make a plausible argument that it was the cultural reaction to 9/11 that killed the star trek franchise for a long time. without rehashing the politics of the 00s too much, there were two possible reactions to something like 9/11, what we might term the "oklahoma city" reaction and the reaction we actually got. 9/11 could have been viewed as a major tragedy but ultimately a criminal act, one which had to be dealt with by the civil authorities like the mcveigh bombing or other notable incidents of deadly terrorism on US soil prior to that date. instead though it was largely conceived of as a foreign military threat, encouraged no doubt by an administration that wanted to pursue a more vigorous foreign policy, and we got, well--*gestures at the first two decades of the 21st century*

this really soured the national political mood--it made the cultural zeitgeist one of paranoia and violent revenge fantasies. it gave us 24, and Taken, and while I'm not sure it's wholly responsible for the reboot of BSG (there's a throughline there with Ronald D. Moore's other work) it certainly contributed to an environment that was receptive to it. and i think in that environment 90s end-of-history optimism about the future, though it should have been a welcome corrective to all that cynicism and paranoia, simply felt like an anachronism. enterprise did last a few years, but only four seasons in total, the shortest run since TOS. the only movie we got in that era before the big hiatus was Nemesis, a movie about terrorism and a foreign threat that just felt kind of weird and incoherent.

and that was the problem for star trek in that era: if you take the utopianism out of roddenberry's future, you're not left with anything interesting. utopianism is the whole justification for these guys exploring space and going boldly and whatnot, the whole reason why the federation is worth rooting for over any of the other guys. i think a big reason the jj abrams movies fail to have any real substance is that they try to make star trek an action-adventure thing, when that was never its strong suit--indeed, TOS fight scenes are notoriously bad!--and it really took until discovery before people were willing to make star trek qua star trek again.

but even then, there's a degree of pessimism at the core of (some of) post-hiatus star trek that sits uncomfortably with the show's original utopian vision. some of this is just the usual metastasization of conceits that worked better as one-offs or very sparingly at most, comparable to the way the borg got beaten into the ground by voyager. but the heavy reliance on elements like section 34 and the mirror universe and the postapocalyptic future and the crapsack alpha quadrant of picard all to me speak of a certain yearning for utopia--a nostalgia for the utopias of the 90s--but much greater cynicism about the relevance of utopian fiction to our day-to-day lives.

#this is not to knock bsg #i like bsg a lot! #but it is really such an artifact of its time #star trek