#where all you can do is just throw up your hands and condemn them both

[berah-ronah]

honestly at this point im committed to stanning the blood of eden no matter what shit goes down in Nona and Alecto, and 90% of it is bc of the people ive seen who are hand-wringing and talking about how “WELL ACTUALLY, dont you know that BOTH SIDES ARE BAD in this conflict”

#like yes the boe has done some shit #and clearly has some not great ideological beliefs #but by basically ANY metric of comparison theyre better than the empire both in their degree of shittiness and the scale of the harm they ca #*scale of the harm they cause #and the reason why theyre framed as bad is intentional!! every narrator/pov character grew up in the Empire #they saw the empire at its best and the BOE at its worst!!! #of COURSE they would see the BOE on a range between ''evil'' and ''misguided rebels/terrorists'' #like yes the BOE doesnt want to treat judiths pain bc shes a necromancer #which i cannot stress enough is bad #but do ppl really think the houses are taking prisoners to begin with? let alone treating them? #yes its bad that at least one group among the boe burns necromancers alive #but those SAME NECROMANCERS drain the life from their comrades in a specifically excruciating way #or turn their corpses into hand grenades #basically every glimpse weve seen of the BOE indicates that theres more ideological and moral variety than the nine houses #and the violence they inflict is specifically a response to the violent colonization and destruction of their homes #even the ''good'' ppl from the nine houses talk about ''peacefully integrating them'' bc it makes economic sense!!!!! #it just drives me crazy that so many ppl frame the empire/boe conflict as one with No Good Guys #where all you can do is just throw up your hands and condemn them both #ANYWAY ill calm down and stop rambling about fictional fantasy politics #the locked tomb

[thief-of-eggs]

could you do some snowjanus headcanons for their life together had they both decided to runaway together after the whole mayfield situation. (i love this ship so much and your writing is just chef’s kiss.)

ok ok i don’t have time to format this into a fic rn BUT i’m so glad you asked this because i literally love the idea of them running off together, SO-

- While Mayfair’s body is still cooling, Coriolanus formulates his plan. There’s nothing left for him here, and it’s only a matter of time before he’s found out. Hurriedly, Coryo explains to Sejanus he’d recently discovered that someone had told the Captain of Sejanus’s treasonous plans, which means he’s just as damned as Coryo. Sejanus is quick to agree to run- he too has nothing left for him here after all, and clearly he can’t make much of a difference, based on how things went with Billy Taupe. He’s still shaky from their night, but Sejanus still thanks Coriolanus for watching out for him, for protecting him and keeping him safe. Coryo feels guilt gnaw at his chest, but reasons that at least he’s making it right. Even if he’s throwing everything away to make it that way.

- Coryo finds Lucy Gray in the crowds of the tavern, and pulls her aside. He offers her two options- either she come along too, or he writes a confession, leaving the gun with his fingerprints for the peacekeepers to find. He was already condemned, and so is Sejanus, but at least they can save her. Tearfully she agrees, thanking him for taking care of her, and turning to Sejanus to make him promise to take care of Coryo from now on too.

- They leave under the cover of the moon, after Coryo plants the gun close to Mayfair’s body, after he writes a damning letter to Tigris and leaves it in his things at the base. They quickly gather a few belongs and leave when their fellow peacekeepers are sleeping.

- Out in the forrest, they quickly fall into the brawns/brains dynamic. Sejanus is the one trekking onward, the one helping carry their things when Coryo tires. Meanwhile, Coryo is the one mapping out their course, is the one deciding when to rest and when to hunt, is the one watching the skies for hints of rain.

- They don’t talk about their relationship at first. And things start slowly between them anyway. Through them sharing body heat as they curl up together under the stars, Coriolanus grumbling the whole time, but then melting when Sejanus wraps his big warm arms around him. He tries to fight it, but he always ends up the little spoon.

- Sejanus kisses him first. It’s as they’re halfway across the mountains, after they’ve been sitting in front of the fire for a little while, chatting freely about life back home. They’re both more unguarded than ever, and Coriolanus shares a bit about his family’s burdens- and then Sejanus is saying how he’d always suspected Coriolanus was hiding something, and Coryo says he’s always hiding something, but he’s trying to stop that now. And then Sejanus is gazing at him, and Coryo is looking back, and when Sejanus kisses him, it’s tentative and questioning- but Coryo doesn’t push him away.

- They don’t know where they’re headed, but they keep on going. Unknowingly, they’re headed in the direction of district 13- but it’s a while before they begin to recognize that. It’s slow going on foot, and Coryo is certainly not built for life in the wild- but Sejanus thrives. It’s like he was made to be in the trees, made to wander the earthen floors. His smile is so much more dazzling out here under the brilliant sun, his laughter so much louder without the confines of the captial to hold it in.

- They start to kiss more frequently. All the time really. They walk side by side, hand in hand. When Coryo tires, he leans his body into Sejanus’s as they walk, and Sejanus will turn his head to plant a kiss onto Coriolanus’s head.

- The night that Coriolanus confesses to Sejanus about the jabberjay is a cold one. They’re settled just beyond the mountains, with the cover of trees surrounding their little campfire. Coriolanus watches the flames as he confesses it all, leaving no detail out, beginning with his tarnished family name, and ending with his desperation to save himself from the noose. He won’t look at Sejanus, too afraid that he’ll find the warmth in his friend’s eyes washed away. When he’s done, it’s silent. For a long while they sit in the weight of his words, until finally- Sejanus takes his hand.

“We all do things we aren’t proud of to survive,” Sejanus murmurs. And Coriolanus feels a single tear roll down his cheeks. Sejanus doesn’t know how true his words are.

- Their trust is rebuilt slowly. Sejanus, so kind and forgiving and understanding, doesn’t hold Coriolanus’s actions against him. But there’s certainly a wedge driven between them now, one that takes a while to be chipped fully away. But once it is- once Coriolanus has proven himself time and time again that his loyalties lie with Sejanus now- through throwing himself between Sejanus and a bear, through staying up with him all night after he’s been poisoned by a bad bit of fruit, by repeatedly offering up their only food so that Sejanus can keep his energy going- after all of it, their relationship begins to bloom. With no secrets holding them back, their feelings are free to grow wild.

- The first time they have sex is in the middle of a rain storm, under the cover of a fallen tree that they arrange into a temporary shelter. It’s messy and muddy and Coriolanus is shivering by the end of it- but his heart is warm in a way he can’t begin to explain, his chest so full once they’re done, when Sejanus holds him tight in his arms, when he kisses the top of his head and whispers how he hopes to never lose Coriolanus

- The day that they reach the border of district 13 is a clear one. They see the rubble clearly before them- and Coriolanus warns Sejanus that they not get any closer, but Sejanus treks onward anyway, noting that the rubble isn’t nearly as drastic as the propaganda he’d been shown back in 2.

- They’re greeted fairly soon by armed guards. Confused and tired, Sejanus and Coriolanus willingly go with them, following them into the depths of district 13’s base. Nothing makes sense to either of them anymore- hadn’t there been no one left here? But no- the base is teeming with life, though certainly not enough of it to fill the many halls.

- Theyre questioned, and questioned again. After deeming that they’re no threat to 13, and after deciding that there’s no where else for them to go, they’re given a mini history lesson on district 13, explaining everything from the end of the war till now.

- Sejanus and Coryo talk that night, in a guest room that they’re given to share. They talk and talk and talk, and eventually, they both agree. There’s no where else for their weary legs to take them, no where else for them to push onward to.

- They agree to stay, and district 13, still shaky in their numbers from the war, eagerly accepts them, desperate for their insight on the capitol, and any information they might hold to help bring them down one day.

- It takes Coriolanus a while to fully see the capital as the enemy. It’s a process of unlearning on his part, a process of seeing the bad that he’d been surrounded with his entire life, and accepting it for what it is. Sejanus helps him adjust, helps him work through his confusion and his frustration. District 13 never pushes them, always patient with the two of them on how much they’re willing to share.

- They’re both entered into their military program, though Coriolanus is soon transferred to their weapons team. After a while, Sejanus is promoted to medic, where he begins to study medicines and diseases. District 13 becomes an unlikely home for them both, a place where both of their talents are encouraged and fostered.

- They stay in the same dorm, having received the same benefits as that of a married couple. Each night they fall asleep in eachothers arms, each morn they wake to soft kisses and gentle touches.

- Sejanus tells him he loves him frequently. Coriolanus doesn’t say it back for a long while, but Sejanus doesn’t hold him to it. Eventually, though, he does- in the softest moments between them, in the most passionate, in the most tender. That is when Coriolanus feels he has the freedom to speak his mind, and that is when he utters the three heavy but blissful words back- “I love you.”

- Years later, Lucy Gray and the Covey find their way to them, having unintentionally followed the same path through the mountains. They bring life and music to the rigid district 13, and Sejanus and Coriolanus weep when they first see them.

- Eventually, after years of serving and living in district 13, after proving their loyalty again and again- they’re entrusted with the care of a newborn girl, who’s father had been lost in a small round of flu, and who’s mother had died in childbirth. They name her Rose- in honor of Coriolanus’s mother, in honor of the one good thing he can hold dead from his family legacy. She takes on the last name Plinth, the same name that Coriolanus himself takes on. The final shedding of his family’s legacy.

- The three of them are a happy unit, with auntie Lucy Gray playing a large role in her upbringing. She’s taught to love music and color, to be compassionate to all around her, to fight for what she believes in, and to always tell the truth.

- Years and years later, Sejanus notes that he and Coriolanus don’t have an anniversary, seeing as they’d never officially gotten married at all. They talk to the officials in 13, and soon plan a modest wedding, with Rose as the flower girl and Lucy Gray as their main performer.

- The words “I love you” finally come freely to Coriolanus, just as they’ve always come freely to Sejanus. He doesn’t feel the need to protect himself anymore, doesn’t feel the need to be on constant surveillance, constant watch. He can allow himself to curl up int Sejanus’s arms, can allow himself to feel everything for the man he’d so clearly been in love with for a long while, back since he’d first laid eyes on him-

The boy with the bag of gum drops from so long ago, new to the districts, and in desperate need of a friend. Now Coriolanus’s faithful husband, his loyal protector, and the loving father of his daughter.

#snowjanus #snowjanus headcannons #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus x sejanus #sejanus plinth #coriolanus/sejanus #coriolanus snow #lucy gray #lucy gray baird #ballad of songbirds and snakes movie #thg #thg series #the hunger games #suzanne collins #snowplinth #plinthsnow

[paymechildsupport]

YAN!Suguru Geto // x Reader [Vindication]

-!! Yandere!Vindictive!Geto x Yandere!Reader (two yanderes in love <3 )

-!! CW: Themes of death, suicide, murder, obsession

Storyline takes place a few months after Riko’s death, in the middle of Geto’s descent into immense depression and prior to him leaving jujutsu tech. Instead of investing his time to become a murderous cult leader, Geto pours everything into academics, and against you. He would do anything to make sure you didn’t leave him too. 

-!! The alternation between Geto and Suguru is intentional.

-!! Gender never specified

You were his academic rival. You’d both do anything to maintain that thrill of competition, anything…

…

Could they get any more annoying..?

Could they get even more unbearable..?

Could they just shut up for once..?

Goddamnit,

They were so…

Infuriating.

The mere idea of them being happy,

Of them being even remotely okay

Of air reaching their lungs 

Of their bones all perfectly intact

Of their mere  e x i s t e n c e, 

It made you want to throw up. 

Why couldn’t they just… go away?

It would make your life so, so much easier. 

It would make you so, so happy.

If…. They….. could… just…. Cease… to… E̴̠̟̾̈́ẍ̶̡̢̻̱̠̜́̒̀̉̿͝i̴͓͇̓͐͆͘͘ş̶͙͚̞̪̽͛̋͜ͅt̵͓̲̟̪̹̊͒̉̈̏̑

-

-

-

“Is everything okay?” You’re snapped back to the present immediately. You struggled to remember where you were or what you were doing.

You look up to find the words come from Suguru Geto’s mouth. He’s standing over where you slouch in your seat, looking down with a hint of condemnation and… smugness? Fucking bastard.

“Eh..? Where- where is..” 

“You’re in the library” Ah, that’s right.

“Oh! Ehe, of course I am. Geez- ah… Oh! Yeah, uh,  I’m okay. Its all good” 

Geto raises a brow in question, not buying it

“You’ve just been staring out into space for the past seven minutes. And-“ he points, “You just broke your pencil” 

You look at where he was staring at to see your pencil, indeed, snapped in your hand. You were still gripping it, hard. Very hard. 

You don’t even know how you’re still surprised at the sheer power that your hatred has over you. It’s quite scary sometimes. 

“Yes.. everything’s fine, honestly. I’m just tired is all..” 

“The library closed awhile ago” He deadpans. So matter of fact.

“Ah- wait, what? Then why are you still here-?” 

“Satoru and Shoko have already left. I said I’d stay. The librarians were too hesitant to approach you.”A corner of his mouth quirks up, “you’re very intimidating when you’re frustrated.”

You were silent, just now taking in the darkness of the library. Almost all the lights were out- albeit a few lamps in the corners- and you were the only ones still in the building. It was getting very late and the streetlights outside illuminated the dark streets. Under other circumstances it could be considered peaceful even. 

You sigh, looking down. You can see the eyebags under Geto’s eyes, engraved into his features for the past few months. You’d only ever seen that look in the mirror. The similarity unnerved you, and you didn’t know how to feel about it. You felt proud, partly,-- it showed how much he expended just to compete with you, to rake himself up somewhere remotely close to your level, and then some. You reminisce, remembering the Geto a few months ago, prior Star Plasma, prior to Riko, prior to the empty husk in front of you

“Is something the matter?” His voice takes a drastic switch, softening to a wispy tone. You start to shake, “Is someone the matter?”

“…”

You knew it was dangerous. Suguru Geto wasn’t who you remembered, – he was unstable, unpredictable. You of all people should know, you’ve been subjected to a front row seat to his descent into despair. He was apathetic, borderline violent sometimes. Ever since the murder of Star Plasma vessel, Riko Amanai, Geto unknowingly latched himself onto everyone close enough, determined to make sure they never suffer the same fate, – and that included you, his rival. 

It was rather humorous, really. The lengths you two would now go to to keep your little game going. You were so invested, so enthralled into beating and dominating him in absolutely every way possible. You were intoxicated by the idea of winning, so drunk off of the thrill that came with competing. You sometimes wonder where you would draw the line.

Suguru was so into your little games that oftentimes you wonder if he really does enjoy to be beaten. To be made lesser of, to be belittled, to be degraded, to be beaten and dominated in every way possible. Obsession would be the only word to describe it. The boy was obsessed. Obsessed with competing. Obsessed with your antics. Obsessed with you. You would often question how far he’d go just for the sake of your little contest. 

“Would you kill someone for me?” The words fall from your lips before you can think as you lift your head up. 

“Yes”. He doesn’t hesitate. 

“…”

“I would kill anyone without a second thought, should you request it”

You can’t stop,

“…If there was someone I hated more than anything in the world… someone I couldn’t stand… someone who’s mere presence makes me want to break something…. Someone who I cannot stand the thought of them breathing… someone who just thinking of them makes me… makes me wanna…” You trail off.

“My only regret,” he says quietly, “was that it wasn’t me who had affected you in such a way” 

You smile bitterly, looking out the window.

“Who hurt you” His words were soft, but his tone dripped with venom. 

“… They didn’t necessarily hurt me directly… They just-….  I just…- “ You take a deep breath,   “the things they do and say to others concerning me and people I care about are… questionable, to say the least.”

“Yet they did end up affecting you nonetheless, correct?”

“Well, yes”

“So then they did hurt you”

“You could put it that way, yes”

Geto’s eyes flash,

“What is their name?”

“…”

“Tell me their name.”

“…” Such a vindictive sense of justice. 

His smile is laced with dynamite. 

“Tell me their name and I’ll make sure no words will ever be allowed to leave their mouth again”

Still, you remain silent. You didn’t want Geto to get his hands dirty doing something you should have been able to do. You shake your head. 

He sighs, his face softening. He bends down on one knee to meet your eye level whilst sitting down.

“Darling,” He’s so, so very gentle. “It will be alright. All this will be over, soon. Just let me do this for you. Let me get rid of one more disgusting person. Just let me…” You can feel yourself coming undone. “Let me do what I do best. I would never offer unless it was you” Your breathing heavily now, shaking violently from head to toe. 

He was going to protect you–

He leans down to your ear and whispers the final bit like a caress, “Just give me their name”

And you do.

–no matter what.

You tell him their name. 

And just like that, he smiles, gets up, and exits the library, closing the door softly behind him. 

.

The next morning they’re all over the news. 

A true tragedy, or so that’s what it appeared to be. 

You say nothing as the police describe in morbid detail the mangled and shredded body that had appeared to have jumped off the roof of the school. Your school.

 It was much too graphic to show, the police said. But it was by far one of the most horrendous deaths they had ever witnessed. The poor man looked sick to his stomach merely recounting the memory. 

Mawed and dismantled…

And although you felt as if you should have been happy, that you should have at least cracked a small smile, you simply couldn’t. 

This was only one. 

One death.

One person you hated, gone.

You still had more.

Much, much more.

A whole list in fact.

You wondered what would happen if Geto ever found out about the list you kept in the bottom drawer of your nightstand.

…

Maybe another day, you think.

Maybe another day.

~

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

(Heavily edited from a older piece)

I lo-lo-lo-lo-LOooooove Suguru he's such a bbg malewife :3

#jjk oneshot #jjk x gender neutral reader #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #geto suguru #jjk geto #geto x reader #jujutsu geto #suguru #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen suguru #jjk suguru #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere suguru geto #yandere geto #i love geto

[thatfeelinwhenyou]

HANDS ON YOU — 004

IN WHICH; ILAND 2 happened and you debuted first place as the leader of LUMIÉRE. Having been told that your group is involved in a lore crossover with ENHYPEN, you navigate work, friendship, and love while trying to make it in an industry filled with animosity and condemnation. When life throws you lemons, you gotta make lemonades chuck it right back!

smau + written (0.5k words)

❥･• chapter 4 — dog-eater…?

"I can't believe you got lost searching for a vending machine," Minjung-unnie hurriedly drags Mai over to where we are in the waiting area. "I'm sorry! I just really need some sugar intake," Mai sheepishly scratches the back of her neck, visibly apologetic for making her members wait. You can tell that everyone is on edge, and rightfully so, considering the intense training that all of you have put into preparing for this moment.

You notice Mai shifting uncomfortably in her stage outfit, presumably affected by the tension that has somehow permeated the atmosphere of the girls. “It’s okay, just don’t run off by yourself again yeah?” You placed a reassuring pat on her shoulder, and Mai gratefully deflates into your touch.

"How do you look... fine? I'm literally about to throw up." Yuna turns to look at you, her voice barely above a whisper but instead of replying to her, you shot Yuna a teasing smile only to have her jokingly roll her eyes at you. You'd be lying if you said you weren't nervous, you dreamt of this moment for as long as you have been training for it, imagining yourself confidently answering questions with poise and charm.

Now, facing the reality of being in the spotlight, a mix of excitement and anxiety consumes you. Even with a meticulously memorised script from yesterday, you can't help but feel the churning in your stomach, finding solace in having skipped lunch that day.

The corridors echo with the hurried footsteps of the production staff, their voices mingling with the hum of electronic equipment. You watch as Sunghoon and Wonyoung meticulously rehearse their lines, ensuring they are well-prepared for any anomalies that may occur.

Your heart nearly drops to the pits of your stomach when the production staff directs you and your group to make your way onto the tiny platform they have squeezed into the box set. Subtly, you share a smile with Sunghoon as you walk past him up the steps. "Nervous?" he asks, noticing your trembling hands. You nod in response.

"Don't be, just stick to the script and you'll do amazing."

"Not if I have the tendency to somehow screw things up."

"You're being dramatic," Ray sarcastically cuts into your conversation but call it leader instincts or whatever, you just know she's probably the most freaked out one among the rest of you. Proven right, when you feel her fingers finding their way up your arm, tugging onto them.

"You got this Ray, no sweat." You jokingly dig your fingers into the sides of her ribcage and you giggle as she shoots you a warning glare, “I'll eat your dog alive." She threatens and you swear you caught an offended gasp escaping from both Sunghoon's and Wonyoung's lips.

"Please excuse her, I swear she's not a dog-eater." Sunghoon laughs as he watches you desperately trying to explain the questionable humour your bandmate held, and Wonyoung subtly giggles behind her cue cards. You mentally curse Ray in your head for once again having no filter when you hear the director signal for all of you to stand by.

With a steady voice, you begin to deliver your lines, relying on the script that you had so diligently memorized. Occasionally, you catch glimpses of the production crew's reactions, their smiles, and nods of approval driving the initial jitters to give way to growing confidence, buoyed by the energy of the moment.

prev | masterlist | next

♡。·˚˚· ·˚˚·。♡

authors note: i’ll try my best to not include as much written portions in this smau but we’ll see 😁

taglist! open @softiehee @annoyingbitch83 @hoon0logy

#enhypen #iland #belift #hybe #heeseung #jungwon #sunoo #sunghoon #enha #jay #jakesim #nishimura riki #smau #idol au #heeseung x reader #heeseung smau #enhypen fluff #enhypen social media au #enhypen smau #tfwy handsonyou #jake sim #enhypen angst #jake #enha smau #kpop smau

[bloodied-serpent]

i hope you know you are driving me & my friends up the walls (in the best way) with your comments on our gifsets about emhyr and cahir. you get them, truly.

tell me more pls 👀

Thank you, I'm so happy to torture you with my tags.

I do want to give major credit to both actors, because the physicality in their scenes is *phenomenal* visual storytelling. The delivery of their lines, from their body language to the tone of voice and the microexpressions, has so much nuance that it creates a really compelling dynamic between the two of them. In every interaction between the two of them, there is purpose behind everything, and it elevates the scenes.

In terms of the characters themselves, vengeance is an ouroboros, and I think this shows in how both of them navigate the world.

What fascinates me about Emhyr is how he weaves the illusion of the White Flame- this untouchable leader who is not only certain in his plan, not just guaranteed to succeed, but he acts like he's already won. His posturing is so cleverly constructed to manipulate the person(s) in front of him. We see this in how he interacts with the dwarf bladesmith, sharing drinks but reminding her of the fact they are not, can not, and will not *ever* be the same. The dwarf says as much, blatantly stating he'd kill her if the sword was faulty. And he doesn't shy away from the admission. He leans into it, cultivates that quiet fear that makes people obey. We never see Emhyr without a signifier of his position. He welcomes Cahir back in armour, as the army leader. He wakes Cahir in elaborate dress, as the emperor. Emhyr is always performing, even when he is alone, and that is his tragedy. He only ever dares hesitate when he is alone, but even as he burns the remnants of his old life, he is not allowed to be himself. He is not permitted to be Emhyr. Emhyr is the ashes of a portrait he threw in that brazier. He is the White Flame, because *that* is who will get him what he wants.

And the show emphasises how everything around Emhyr is cyclical. He condemned Fringilla to unending wine, letting her poison herself just as she poisoned his trust. He drinks with his weapon crafter, in moderation and in good spirits. He banished Cahir to the border, where he had to fight tooth and nail for his life, because he sought to cut Emhyr away from his goal. He asks Cahir to kill the only friend he has, knowing Cahir forgets the word "no" around him.

Cahir, on the other hand, is grappling with his sense of self. The only constant in his life is his king, and his king has no mercy for Cahir. Cahir cannot see choice past yearning for Emhyr, because all he has known is loyalty to him. And this hesitation, this doubt, it's apparent. And Emhyr does not hesitate to exploit it. He understands, I feel, on a fundamental level, that Emhyr understands the fact Cahir treads a fine line between his loss of self and finding one that doesn't need a king. Everything Emhyr does, from rousing Emhyr and using the advantage of his still-hazy mind to feed him crumbs enough to satisfy the ache in his heart before he asks the impossible. Something Cahir is more than willing to do, because it's for Emhyr. And this is validated- brilliantly portrayed- by how Emhyr uses language to alienate Cahir from the Others, effectively telling him things like "do it for us" because he KNOWS how desperate Cahir is for there to be an "us"

And I don't necessarily mean a romantic or sexual us here, it's more that Cahir at his core has a need to belong. So what does Emhyr do? "I wanted to welcome you back myself." Entering his room, throwing him his trousers and sitting with him, shoulder to shoulder, looking him in the eye, and telling him what he wants to hear, all the while affirming his standing as the arbiter of life itself. "Fringilla is dead. You are here," he says, meaning "You are here because I have permitted you to be."

Cahir shatters the mirror, whereas Emhyr burns the portrait. One has potential for introspection. The other is a cut link. We see how killing the elf affects Cahir, how he crumbles inward from the act. There is no one to catch him, and he doesn't recognise who he sees in the mirror, but he's not able to let go. And who would? When you have that security, that fragile peace where all you need to do is obey and you'll be rewarded, why step out of line? He tried it, and it almost got him killed. That is what makes this riveting. Cahir is painfully aware of the danger his doubt brings. And he still voices it anyway, sat side by side with the White Flame, he asks "How do you know when someone's a good leader" but he means "How do I know you're what's best for me?" And Emhyr deflects, using Cahir's need against him to placate him.

Emhyr communicates his inner world beautifully - he lays out expectations rather directly, like when he told Cahir "You did as I asked without hesitation." Hesitation is crucial to Emhyr's character, because it is his weak spot. He clutches the portrait of baby Ciri in his arms as he walks away, carrying only his agenda into the future. He buries anything that will not further his obsession, letting it suffocate and rot, instead of killing it outright, because he fears its ghost too much.

Cahir's woe is intelligence, in that he is aware of it all. He's aware of his need, of his desperation, but he's too afraid to break the cycle. The gravitational pull of Emhyr's influence keeps him in this unending loop of doubt and breakdowns and having his faith affirmed, and he's not allowed to change, because if he regains his sense of self, he will no longer be a malleable asset. Cahir can't seem to fix himself up, which shows in how he has looked throughout the season. Hair and clothes unkempt and rough, the most he managed was washing his face. Compare that with the jewellery and velvet Emhyr wore to wake him, and you get two very different worlds that mirror each other. Emhyr is scared to be himself, Cahir is scared of not being who Emhyr wants him to be.

#thank you for giving me a chance to infodump on them #I've hyperfixated so so badly #the witcher #emhyr #cahir

[cheemscakecat]

BLU Spy headcanon and Sniper pee

What if… BLU Spy was from rural France originally, and not the city?

Because the way he acts, you would assume he’d throw a hissy fit over getting dirt under his nails or something minor like that…

But what if it’s an act? As stuck up as he is, he pretends to be grossed out and prissy about everyday messes to keep up his image. And the only thing that actually grosses him out is human waste like Sniper pee?

[Throwing dirty bottles from the trash]

Think about it. He doesn’t tell people his name or where he’s from, he doesn’t let them see his face, and he tries to stay aloof. Even to someone as friendly as Soldier. Wouldn’t it make sense to play a part that doesn’t fit your background, so people couldn’t use your behavior to extrapolate your origin?

Animals are not clean, they poop and pee wherever it seems right to them and it accumulates. Farm animals included. And beyond that, gardening and farming requires you to get your hands up in the dirt. But that’s nature, animals don’t have souls and human intelligence. We know what viruses and diseases are; livestock, wildlife and pets do not.

So, in the absence of his suit or reasons to pretend to be a germaphobe, it wouldn’t bother BLU Spy to clean up a horse stable; they need their feces to be taken away so they don’t get worms. It wouldn't bother him to give food scraps to pigs or chickens, and it wouldn’t bother him to get the eggs from the coop.

Walking around cow patties in a field, helping a farm animal with a difficult delivery, and fertilizing a garden or field would not bother him. Killing a farm animal and preparing it to be cooked would not make him squeamish.

But Sniper is a grown man who throws his pee at people intentionally. And to BLU Spy, that’s extra nasty because how does an adult think that’s acceptable behavior? It’s waste; it’s water with all the toxins and ammonia and refuse that your body doesn’t use for energy. And it can make you sick if you get it in an open wound [likely on the battlefield] or drink it, which Snipes may well do.

And it’s probably worse considering the fact that Sniper takes those kidney enlarging pills; they may not be filtering waste out of the body like they were meant to do. I think that when RED Medic brought him back, he replaced his messed up kidneys with some from an exotic animal, since he wouldn’t have gotten the chance prior.

This is an interesting interaction for a few reasons.

The sewage they’re currently walking in is up to Soldier’s knees and almost Spy’s.

Soldier is talking about trench warfare, which is notorious for wet sloppy ground and rats causing gangrene and other illnesses. But the way he talks about it makes it sound less terrible than the situation they’re currently in. I think he was just trying to make conversation, not tell Spy to get over himself because he’s been through worse.

2. Soldier is looking straight ahead while Spy is looking into the water to watch his steps.

Sewage pipes are meant to take feces, pee, and toilet paper away from people to keep them from getting sick. But animals such as rats and random trash end up in the sewers; and given their location, they may well step on a fallen gun, bullets, or an engineer’s tools by mistake.

They’re both being smart in different ways; Soldier is watching for enemies ahead, and Spy is watching for objects that might go through his shoe and cause an infection. Or cause him to slip and get more sewage on himself.

3. In WWI, trench warfare was concentrated in France.

The Germans were trying to take Paris, and the French fought fiercely in the countryside between the city and Belgium, which had already fallen and been razed. WWI had more trench warfare, because the inventions needed to break a stalemate between two trenches of enemy soldiers had to be developed during those years. Chemical warfare like the use of Mustard gas was not condemned legally until after the war at the Geneva convention.

Meanwhile, America was ever the land far away that didn’t suffer the same effects on their land. Their soldiers died, their elderly and children did not. Their farms were not scarred with razor wire and trenches and bullets. But those scars were concentrated in France.

So to Spy -who did not live through the first war, but did hear the stories, and of the rebuilding, and live through WWII- Soldier is the one who hasn’t really been through it. War is hell on all soldiers, but it was a wildly different experience for a foreigner to come in, help, and go back to the land of plenty, than to be a citizen of one of the countries invaded by the N*zis.

4. In WWII, France fell to Germany in stark contrast to their valiant performance in WWI. The Resistance and anyone who tried to save persecuted undesirables were about the only people who showed courage.

I won’t go into so much detail here, since this will be relevant in my Emesis Blue fanfic later, but you should know that the country of France was not heroic and brave in WWII. It brought great shame on their people, even if it was mostly forgotten by the rest of the world later.

So in a way, Soldier being someone who kept up the fight against the Germans makes him “better” than the French military, alongside his platoon. But he would also be unaware of the wider hardships faced by the people of France during those years, as someone who was rushing to stop Germany and on the frontlines. He didn’t live in a village or city in Europe, living the misfortune of the civilians who called that country home. And he didn’t live through the years after the war, when these countries had to rebuild.

Him looking forward and ignoring whatever might be in the water is a good representation of this. So is the fact that he’s the one in front, setting their pace, while Spy is lagging a little.

#tf2 #emesis blue #tf2 spy #tf2 soldier #character analysis #this started out lighthearted and got sad quick. #Angst #historical context

[blossom-works]

Two to One - Hades x Reader

A/N: I fell in love with Hades and I could not stop thinking about this after I read the manga so, spoilers after chapter 50 of Record of Ragnarok/Shuumatsu no Valkyrie. 

Editors Note: Some things were changed to fit with the OG’s setups. 

--- 

You know just how much he loves his younger brothers. No matter how obnoxious or arrogant they are, he loves them and will do what he can to ensure their wellbeing. Once, long ago, he single handedly defeated the Titans that escaped Tartarus to ensure their safety. Sending out his men to fight alongside his brothers on the surface. His protective nature and the love he has for his younger brothers is what charmed you alongside his mannerisms and personality alone. The man was confident yet a gentleman.

Long ago you were once a human that turned into a God. You are a Demigod like the famous Hercules. To sum up your story, you stopped a war all by yourself. While you were strong as a human, able to handle yourself in battle against an army of men, you did not match the strength of Hercules. You combined your athleticism with your smarts. The combination of skills allowed you to dissolve a fruitless and inhumane war. At that time, women were simple housewives so you were not taken serious in the beginning. But with persistence, you made a name for yourself. So much so that you caught the attention of Zeus, the Godfather among Gods.

Time and time again you were able to defeat armies after armies. You did sustain damage, but your smarts is what allowed you to always end up the victor. You did show mercy though, giving the soldiers an ultimatum, join your cause and end the war, or to die fighting an unjust war. Eventually, you yourself had an army. Together, you ended the long bloodbath with you taking the heads of the kings responsible. Ironically, your efforts and tenacity is what got you in trouble. The people you persistently tried to save turned on you. The men that fought alongside you turned on you. They feared you. They feared that you would become a tyrant, leading them in another war or some crap like that. Your closest soldiers are the ones who build the platform where you would be hung. The people you fought for were joyfully anticipating your death. But you did not fight back.

Despite the cruelty of it all, you understood their fear. After all, one person, a woman at that (an indication that led people to think you were a witch) essentially stopped the war all by yourself. You accepted it. Your job was done. If this is how you die, then so be it. Moments before you were supposed to be hung Zeus, the Godfather of Gods made his appearance. He praised your efforts and your ability to still have compassion for your kind despite their barbaric treatment. With a goblet in hand he gave you a choice, drink is divine blood and join the God world, or be hanged by the very people you helped. Logically, you accepted his offer. Out of all the Gods, Zeus’ blood can turn a human into a Demigod. The only catch though is if someone who is not a true hero drinks it, they die.

From that day on, you became the Goddess of Life and Death, protecting the weak and innocent while condemning the wicked. Having only two Demigods recorded, you and Hercules because good friends. He, like his adoptive father, commended your work. You both held humanity dear in your hearts, vowing to do whatever you could to keep them away from the Gods’ wrath. Human would pray to you, asking for your help in times of conflict. You did what you could to help them and those responsible for the mass suffering would be met with your wrath. You were a forced to be respected and feared.

A couple hundred years after you joined the Heavens, you met the King of the Netherworld in one of his rare visits to Valhalla. Zeus decided to throw a welcoming party for his oldest brother. All Gods and Goddess where essentially forced to attend. While mingling with your fellow Demigod, and his adoptive brother, Hades came up to you. Hercules and Hermes greeted their uncle, and you gave a formal greeting. All Gods and Goddess respect the man, even his brothers do not sully his name. You would be damned if you would be the first person to anger him. You would have to be as crazy as Zeus is when he decides to cheat on Hera.

To your surprise, Hades ignored his nephews, choosing to focus his attention on you. He asked about your work as the Goddess of Life and Death and was curious about your process. Any and all questions he asked you answered accordingly. Hercules and Hermes left you two some time ago as you and their uncle entered an intellectual conversation. Despite being the king of a domain that is essentially Hell, he rarely visits the mortal world. You kept him up to date on your findings of humanity and Hades even wondered what your thoughts were on them. Passionately, you told him that you hold your former race near and dear. Humans may be complex and frustrating creatures, but they are no different that Gods in your opinion. Yes, you boldly told that to Hades.

Your statement intrigued the man more than you already had. Resulting in an extended conversation. For the entire night you two busied yourselves in each other. Topics ranged from philosophy, science, human nature, history, and more. To say the least, your interaction with Hades left the Heavens in gossip. Has the King of the Helheim taken an interest in someone? Will there be a new queen of the Netherworld? To answer it, yes. A week after your intellectual talk, one of his servants came to your home to invite you to Olympus Palace. Apparently, Hades came back to Valhalla to have dinner with you. Ideally, he would rather it be in Helheim, but the taboo of The Bifrost forbade you from going to his realm. 

You may not have been a God for long, but you were pretty sure that Hades rarely visits Valhalla. Let alone to have dinner with a newer Goddess. Hades does not even come here to have dinner with his own brothers!

His visits kept happening to the point where at least once a week for a month, Hades would come up to have dinner with you. There was one time where you were allowed into his domain though. 

True to word of mouth, Helheim is a dark domain. There is no sun or vegetation of any kind. To your surprise, Hades invited you to meet Cerberus. Taking your hand in his, Hades planted yours on top of one of the heads. Cerberus held no animosity towards you (mainly because of Hades), and allowed you to pet him like a domestic dog. 

Somehow, Hades got you permission to travel to Helheim whenever you like without facing the consequences. Till this day you still do not know how he did that. 

From then on, whenever you would go to Helheim, you would always greet Cerberus with a pat on each head as you make your way to have dinner with Hades. After that one month, Hades had formerly asked to court you. When you asked why he said, “I have finally found someone who can rule Helheim by my side. I would be a fool to let you slip through my fingers.”

To an outsider, the proposal may sound like an act of duty, but you knew better. Hades is more than capable of ruling Helheim by himself. He has been for the last thousand years. He does not need your help, but he is willing to have you by his side. He wants to have you by his side. In a sense, Hades humbled himself before you. You accepted, and when the Heavens found out, it became the biggest news in centuries. Hercules jokingly started to call you “auntie” when he found out. A couple months into your courtship you met the most terrifying God, Poseidon. Hades introduced you two when Zeus arranged a little welcoming party for you. Only members of their family were invited.

True to his character, the sea God did not acknowledge you, but you were not offended. You knew what to expect from Poseidon and that was nothing. Getting riled up over his lack of interest would be fruitless. You did not ask anything of the God, nor did you try to interact with him. The only interaction you gave him was a bow of the head. You never knew how Poseidon felt about you (if he even cared to think about it). Adamas, now known as Adamantine, took a liking to you. You were told about what happened between him and his brothers. You neither judged nor commended him, choosing to remain neutral. Out of the four, Adamantine adored Hades. You two created a sibling bond. Other than Hera, you would be only woman in their family (and he liked you a lot better than Hera. For what reason you do not know).

After ten years of courtship, you and Hades were married. The big gap was all for preparation. Not for the wedding, that took two months to plan. The preparation was to get you ready to rule Helheim. Hades made sure that you were familiar with the territory and its inhabitants. Mainly Tartarus. He wanted to make sure that if they were to ever break out again, you would be able to handle yourself in the chaos. Given your background, it did not take you long to prove that you could. Your wedding was elaborate. Worthy for a literal God. Hades chose to wear his usual clothing while you opted for a traditional bridal attire. Given the fact that Hades is a Greek God, a Stefana was used. A crown made of golden leaves was placed on top of your heads and tied together by a ribbon to symbolize the union. You two also sipped from a single cup of wine that was blessed by Zeus.

After that, you officially become the Netherworld’s queen. Hades had another throne made for you and had it sit right next to his. While upholding your duties as its queen, you also continued to do your regular duties and the Goddess of Life and Death. It got a bit overwhelming, so Hades gave you two assistants. One that would help with your duties in Helheim and the other to help with your Goddess duties. You still visited the mortal realm, but not as much as you used to. Your clothing changed as well to fit your role as queen. You started to wear a long white dress with sleeves. It is a dress that overlaps itself like robe, tied together with a white strip of fabric. It leaves a subtle slit for one of your legs and your collar is held together by a metal clip that resembles Hades’ choker. You also started to wear purple heels made of crocodile skin. The ankle straps are designed to resemble the vines tattooed on his forehead. A gift he gave you on your wedding day.

The Gods gather in a grand council meeting led by Zeus to discuss the existence of humanity. It occurs after every millennium. The rules are simple. If the majority of Gods vote against humanity, the human race would be wiped out. You try to attend when you can to vote for humanity, but this year something new has occurred. From what you heard; a Valkyrie has proposed a Ragnarok. A thirteen round tournament where Gods would be fight humans and humans would be fighting Gods. If humanity wins at the end of the tournament, they will live for another millennium. If they lost, their entire existence will be wiped off the face of the earth. An intriguing notion that exited the Heavens. When you heard of this you were relieved. Humanity now has a literal fighting chance. That was until today.

In round three of Ragnarok, your brother-in-law, Poseidon, perished in his fight. You and Hades did not attend but you did hear of it. When the news hit your ears, Hades orders one of the servants to pull up the video footage and sure enough, the King of the Seas did die. You place your hand on your husband’s shoulder as an effort to comfort him. It was when you witness your dear friend, Hercules, perish when you both decide to make a trip to Valhalla. You arrive during Buddha’s fight. Plot twist, the man is fighting on the side of humanity. While you are thankful for him, you did not announce it, nor did you show it. Other than Hercules, you got along well with the Buddhist Pantheon.

Upon your surprise arrival, you two sit on the couch in the skybox where your in-laws are after Hades essentially kicks his nephew, Ares, off. Your husband busies himself with talk while you focus on the fight. Since your shared arrival, neither of you have let go of each other’s hands. Both hands are resting on top of Hades’ crossed knee. A bang against the back of the couch from Ares startles you. Your husband glares at his nephew, demanding Ares to apologize to you. While your in-laws are surprised at the fluctuating battle, your husband pressed a firm kiss to your knuckles. Once the battle ends with Buddha being the victor, the problem of which God will fight in the next round arises. 

Ares is about to volunteer to take Buddha’s place before your husband announces that he will be fighting the next round. His declaration shocks his family but not you. Before leaving Helheim, you two discussed Hades’ participation. It was not much of a discussion but an understanding. You already knew Hades will avenge his beloved brother’s death no matter what. The only reason why it was discussed is because your marriage is heavily reliant on communication. Over the centuries, you and Hades have built a bond where neither of you need to voice something for the other to understand. While you did want to argue against his wish, you knew it would be useless. Hades might even see it as an insult that you would deprive him of his duty as the eldest brother. You may be worried, but you have faith in your beloved husband.

In a private room prepared for Hades is where you stay until the match starts. Under Hades’ orders, no one is to disturb your family until then. While he is confident that he will win this match, the time alone is for your sake. A way to ease your anxious heart. There you spend your time as a family, doing what you all would normally do. The knock on the door signifies that the round is about to begin. Hades is sent off with kisses as you hand him his bident. After making sure things are taken care of, you go back to the skybox where your husband’s opponent is walking down an elevated carpet into the arena. 

Sitting on the same couch you watch the fight with a sunken stomach and a rapidly beating heart. You have faith in your husband, but you are still a wife. It is your job to worry about Hades’ wellbeing, God or not. It is not until Hades’ spear, Desmos, is destroyed when you stopped watching. Opting to let your bangs hide your eyes. Your heart drops to your stomach as is twists and turns. Your jaw is clenched so tight that you chip a tooth. You can no longer breathe. As your husband’s body begins to vanish to Niflhel, you leave the skybox. Your in-laws look at you with concern and pity. You find an empty hall to process what has just happened. Hearing a loud voice, you follow it as you know who it belongs to. Best to get there before things get out of hand.

“Adamas. That’s enough.”

“But you can’t be serious! They’re hiding the man responsible for killing Hades! Justice must be served!”

“Keep in mind brother that Hades saw Qin Shin as an equal. He acknowledged the human’s strength and in the end, I believe something of a friendship had been established between them. As his wife I ask of you, Adamas, to honor that.”

Adamas and the two Valkyrie sisters can see just how much you are holding in. The deep breaths you are talking tells them everything you need to know. Your brother-in-law huffs in a fit but respects your wishes. He walks off to who knows where and you are about to do the same until the older Valkyrie stops you. 

“M’lady, you have my sincerest apologies for your husband’s death. I wish things did not turn out the way they did.”

In your white clothing you turn your head. “I appreciate it Brunhilde.”

“If I may, you have been a long fighter for humanity. Now that humanity is the reason behind Lord Hades’ death, will you turn your back against them?”

You turn around to face the sister who is still kneeling on the ground. Her pink haired sister stands behind her, unsure of what to do or say. 

“It is true. Since I became a Demigod, I, like Hercules, have been fighting for humanity. Never once have I voted to exterminate their race. My affections for humanity have remained. I, like before, still have a compassion for them. Truth be told when I heard about Ragnarok, I was happy. Humanity has a chance at survival, but...but the love I have for my husband far exceeds the love I have for humanity. I no longer care for the outcome of this tournament...What happens will happen.”

You take in another deep breath and walk down the hall. “The only thing I care about right now is the fact that I am now a widow, and that my daughter is now fatherless.”

Walking through the building you pass by a couple of nymphs. Each bow to you out of respect and offering their condolences. Without knocking, you enter a somber room. A little girl is in tears as the servants try to console her. In her arms, she has a death grip on a stuffed owl her father gave her. You lay a hand on one of the servant’s shoulders, silently thanking them and asking for them to leave. Bowing, they leave their queen and princess to be alone. You gently caress the top of your ten-year-old daughter’s head before lifting up her head. The little girl looks just like her father. White hair with purple eyes. Only this time, her eyes are as glossy as ever. 

Seeing her mother, she thrusts herself to you. Her small hands wrap around your neck, and she wails over the death of her dear papa. The owl still held tightly in her arms, getting soaked with her salty tears. Tightly, you hug the product of yours and Hades’ love. Finally, you let yourself go. Together you both cry over the great loss. You carefully drag her off the couch and place her on your lap. The servants outside the room look down at the floor in sympathy. Eventually, your daughter cries herself to sleep. Your white attire is now wet and stained. Scooping her up you head to where you entered Valhalla from. There you see your in-laws. 

“Oh my...how is the little one?”

“She cried herself to sleep Zeus. She kept calling out to Hades…I’m afraid it’ll be like this for the next couple of days. Maybe weeks.”

The girl loved her father as much as he loved her. Despite his duties as king, he would always kiss her goodnight and even squeeze in a story or two. He got her the owl a day after she was born. He said it looked like her with its wide eyes. Hades was a stern but loving father. He always made sure to give his little love attention but would discipline her accordingly when she acted out. Helheim may not be a warm and welcoming place, but inside the palace it was. Just a couple of days ago your family was playing hide-and-seek. You and your daughter would hide as Hades tried to find you. Every time he found you, he would always go after your daughter first. Scooping her up in his arms, her innocent giggles, and his boisterous laugh. The memory starts to create a gloss over your eyes again.

Adamas places a hand on your shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay? Do you want to go back home right now?”

You give your brother a small and sad smile. “I appreciate the worry you all, but I am still Queen of Helheim. I have a job to do as its sole ruler now. Hades would be disappointed if I let things go downhill because of his death.”

“Will you not avenge his death?”

“Do not mock me Hermes. I want to avenge my beloved’s death, but Hades made me promise not to join Ragnarok...I will leave it to you all to avenge my husband. After all...only a Greek can seek retribution for another Greek.”

On your way through the portal to go to Helheim, her family bows to her. Walking, you remember something Hades said to you one night, a few years ago. 

“I love my brothers, but loving you has a whole other meaning. Our sweet girl here is proof of that. The both of you are my life’s greatest treasures. She may be the center of my eye, but you my love, you are what my heart beats for. Never forget that.”

#record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #ror hades x reader #snv hades x reader #hades x reader #angst #fanfiction #record of ragnarok hades #shuumatsu no valkyrie hades

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

Do we know to what extent Danton was responsible for the September massacres?

According to Côme Simien’s Un ministre face aux massacres de septembre 1792 (published both as an article here and as chapter four of Danton: Le mythe et l’Histoire (2016)), this is a question that has been tackled a lot throughout the years with different historians giving widely different answers, though perhaps more due to ideological leanings and less due to them actually trying to find the truth.

The article itself establishes that Danton, throughout the weeks predating massacres, multiple times declared himself sympathetic of swiftly punishing the enemies of the revolution, in order to calm the masses and avoid an outburst of ”popular justice” (without neccesarily condemning said justice). On August 11, in his first speech held as minister of justice, he said the following:

Citizens, the French nation, to rid herself of despotism, made a revolution; but she has compromised to generously with the tyrants. The experience has proven to her that there’s nothing to hope for in the old oppressors of the people. She will regain her rights… But in all times, and especially in particular debates, where the action of justice begins, popular revenge must end. I take before the National Assembly the commitment to protect the men who are within its precincts: I will walk at their head, and I answer for them.

The same day, he promised a crowd that presented itself before the Assembly that ”justice would have its course” with the survivors of the Swiss guards who had been protecting the Tuileries palace.

A week later, on August 19, he similarily said:

Swear equality; congratulate the National Assembly on its liberating decrees; turn against the traitors, against the enemies of the fatherland and public happiness, let the sword of the law in your hand be directed against the apostles of freedom. Let the justice of the courts begin, and the justice of the people will cease!

And on August 28, when speaking of the foreign troops marching against Paris, he proclaimed the following:

The time has come to tell the people that they must throw themselves upon their enemies en masse. When a ship is wrecked the crew throws overboard everything that endangers it. In the same way, everything that might endanger the nation must be expelled and whatever may be of use put at the disposal of the local authorities, in return for compensation. […] But for these measures to have their effect, we have closed the gates of the capital, and we were right to. If one still needs to put 30,000 traitors under the law, let them be put there tomorrow, but let us communicate with France as a whole. The municipality is vested with the right to seize all male suspects; but, as of tomorrow, the people can come to defend you and communicate with the inhabitants of Paris.

Finally, on September 2, after the news that the last fort standing between Paris and the enemy had been taken, Danton went up and held the speech which contains his famous words ”the toscin which is about to sound is not a signal for alarm, it is a call to charge upon the enemies of the fatherland. To defeat them, monsieurs, we must be bold, and bolder still and forever bold, and and France will be saved.” After that he went out to order the Paris Commune to start ringing the toscin.

So to summarize Danton’s actions in the leadup to the massacres, it can be established that he never openly called for them to happen, and that there’s even less proof for the idea that he orchestrated them. At the same time, it’s not impossible that his words about charging upon the enemies of the people, though clearly mainly about the emerging foreign armies, also contributed to the intoxication of violence spreading through Paris, and one can wonder if it was just pure chance the massacres got started the same day Danton held his fiery speech and ordered the toscin to start ringing…

Once the massacres get going, Danton disappears from the public scene. Discours de Danton doesn’t record him as having intervened in any debate until September 8. We do however know of a circular drafted on September 3 by the surveillance committee of the Paris Commune, a circular which invited the departments to imitate the massacres in the capital and bore the countersignature of the Ministry of Justice. According to Simien’s article, it is however not fully established if it was Danton himself who affixed this signature, or his general secretary Fabre d'Églantine. 

The article further establishes that Danton saved Adrien Duport from the massacres by refusing his transfer to Paris ordered by the surveillance committee. On September 7 and 9 he also ordered that those arrested in the vicinity of the capital "should not be transferred to Paris, given the circumstances.” On September 2 he tried to protect 53 prisoners from Orléans by ordering them to be sent to Saumur instead of Paris. This last move was however not one that was met with success, as the prisoners were instead transferred to the capital by a Parisian army on September 4, where they were massacred five days later. Finally, we also know that on September 4, Danton personally intervened to save Roland from an arrest warrant recently issued against him. In Discours de Jérôme Pétion sur l’accusation intentée contre Maximilien Robespierre (November 5 1792) Pétion described this in the following way:

The surveillance Committee launched an arrest warrant against Minister Roland; it was the 4th (September), and the massacres were still going on. Danton was informed of it, he came to town hall, he was with Robespierre; he was very enraged over this arbitrary and mad act; it would have lost, not Roland, but those who had awarded him. Danton provoked its revocation, it was buried in oblivion.

Speaking of the massacres after the fact, Danton judged them to have been terrible, but also necessary and even unstoppable:

Perhaps Pétion could have explained to you more clearly that these deplorable scenes, these terrible massacres, which were so well taken advantage of to embitter the departments against Paris, perhaps he should have told you clearly that no human power would have been able to stop the effects of this revolutionary thirst, of this rage which set everything ablaze. A great people, perhaps a few members of the Extraordinary Commission, informed of these deplorable events, could also have reminded you that these terrible acts, over which we all mourn, were the consequence of a revolution; and if individuals can be blamed for having professed acts of revenge, it was never the immediate action of a few individuals, but indeed of a people, which had never seen justice take its course with the greatest culprits. If one had explained these dreadful events frankly, we would have been spared from many calumnies. Danton at the Convention, January 21 1793

Here, public safety demands great means, terrible measures. I see no middle ground between ordinary forms and a revolutionary tribunal. History has attested to this truth; and since one has dared, in this Assembly, to recall those bloody days over which every good citizen has groaned, I say that if a tribunal had existed back then, the people, to whom we have so often, so cruelly reproached those days, would not have bloodied their hands. I will say, and I will have the assent of all who witnessed these events, that no human power was in a position to stop the overflow of national vengeance. Let us take advantage of the faults of our predecessors. Let us do what the Legislative Assembly didn’t: let us be terrible in order to prevent the people from being so. Danton at the Convention, March 10 1793

Finally, there also exists several anecdotes regarding Danton and his role in the massacres, though given the fact they’re mostly from after his death and/or written by his enemies, they should be treated with caution:

Grandpré, who, by his position, is bound to render an account to the Minister of the Interior of the state of the prisons, had found their sad inhabitants in the greatest terror on the morning of September 2; he had taken many steps to facilitate the departure of several of these, and had succeeded with a fairly good number; but the rumors which had spread held those who remained in the greatest perplexity. This estimable citizen, back at the hôtel de ville, awaits the ministers at the end of the council: Danton appears first; he approaches him, talks to him about what he has seen, recounts the steps, the requisitions made to the armed force by the Minister of the Interior, the lack of regard that seems to be there, the alarms of the prisoners and the care that he, as minister of justice, has to take for them. Danton, bothered by the unfortunate description, exclaims with his bellowing voice and a gesture appropriate to the expression: I don’t give a fuck about the prisoners or what happens to them! — and he goes away with temperament. It was in the second antechamber, in the presence of twenty people, who all shuddered to hear such a harsh Minister of Justice. Appel à l’impartiale postérité (1793) by Manon Roland (written somewhere between her arrest in June and execution in November)

September 2, at midday, I go, hearing the noise of the tocsin and the cannon of alarm, to my section de l'Unité.  People came to announce that the barriers had been closed. A general consternation was painted on all faces. At the news of the arrival of the Prussians in Paris, as well as of a conspiracy of the prisoners against the patriots (a vague rumor had been circulating about it for fifteen days), a number of citizens questioned me on this subject. ”Your profession as a journalist should enable you to know something,” one said to me. ”I know nothing,” I responded, ”but I’m going to visit someone who could tell me.” As I knew Camille Desmoulins since a long time back, I thought it a good idea to go to his house. I didn’t find him anywhere, one assured me that he was at Danton’s, minister of justice. It was about half past two in the afternoon, I went home to the minister, and told him: ”I have come, in the quality of pure patriotism and in my own name, to ask you what this canon of alarm, this toscin and the arrival of the Prussians to Paris.” ”Calm down, old friend of liberty,” Danton responded, ”it’s the toscin of victory.” ”But,” I told him, ”people talk about slitting throats.” ”Yes,” he told me, ”we were all about to have our throats cut this night, starting with the most patriotic. All those arisocrat rascals, who are in the prisons, had been provided with firearms and daggers. At a specified time next night, the gates were to be opened to them; they would have spread in different quarters to cut the throats of the wives and children of the patriots who will leave to march against the Prussians. We addressed ourselves principally, above all, to those who had demonstrated the principles of freedom.” ”All this comes off as a bit made up to me,” I responded, ”but what means are to be employed to prevent the execution of such a plot?” ”What means?” he said. ”The People, irritated and instructed in time, want to do justice themselves to all the bad subjects inside the prisons.” At these words I was seized with horror; I told him that such a measure appeared to me unworthy of a people who claimed to be free. At this moment, Camille Desmoulins entered. ”Hello there!” Danton said to him. ”Prudhomme just asked me what is to be done. ”Yes,” I said, ”and I am heartbroken after what I have just heard. ”So you didn’t tell him that one won’t mix up the innocent with the guilty? Camille said to Danton. ”All those who will be claimed by their sections will be returned.” ”Seems to me that we could take a less violent measure,” I responded. ”Spilling blood is an abominable act of which those who govern are responsible. The people will one day make those who make them commit this crime pay dearly. Let Paris marche en masse against the Prussians. Send the wives and children of those who are to march at the enemy out of Paris to avoid them getting massacred by the prisoners, let us lock them up in fortified castles.” ”Any kind of moderate measure is useless,” Danton said. ”The anger of the people is at its height, there would even be danger in stopping it.” His first anger assuaged, one could make him listen to reason. ”But,” I say, ”if the Legislative body and the constituted authorities spread themselves through Paris, and harangued the people?” ”No, no,” replied Camille, ”that would be too dangerous; for the people, in their first wrath, might make victims in the person of their dearest friends.” I withdrew filled with pain. As I passed through the dining room, I saw the wives of Camille, Danton, Robert, etc, Fabre-d'Eglantine, and other guests. I did not know what to think of the tranquility that reigned at the house of the Minister of Justice; everything led me to believe that it was indeed impossible to stop the resentment of the People, at the news of a conspiracy hatched by the nobles and priests. l’Histoire générale et impartiale des erreurs, des fautes et des crimes commis pendant la Révolution (1797) by Louis-Marie Prudhomme

I was on time for the appointment, and Danton received me in the chamber of the Seal of State — in that same room where, twenty-two years later in the month of May 1814, I found myself sitting with Chancellor Dambray at the same table near which I had been sitting beside Danton in 1792. […] ”So, in a word (Danton said), do you know who gave the orders for those September Massacres you inveighed against so violently and irresponsibly?... It was I." "You!" I exclaimed, with an uncontrollable expression of horror. "Yes, that's right. But pray collect yourself and continue to hear me calmly. To judge such actions, you must envisage the situation in which we found ourselves as a whole. You must remember that when the entire male population of military age was speeding to the armies and leaving us without forces in Paris, the prisons were bulging with a mass of conspirators and wretches who were only waiting for the approach of the Foreigner to rise up and massacre us ourselves. I only acted to anticipate them and throw their plans for vengeance back at them by making them undergo the fate they planned for us. But I had further reasons. Don't think that I am deceived by these spurts of patriotic enthusiasm that carry away your youthful virtue. No, I know what rehance to place on this inconstancy, on these rapid transitions that so often expose us to panics, flight, shouts of everyone for himself, and even treason. So I did not want all these Parisian youths to arrive in Champagne until they were covered with blood, which for us would be a guarantee of their loyalty; I wanted to place a river of blood between them and the émigrés…" "Monsieur Danton, you make me shudder." "Very well, shudder as much as you like, but learn to control your shuddering instead of continually vaunting it; and believe me, this is the best advice you can be given." Louis-Philippe: mémoires 1773-1793 (1977)

In his Réponse au rapport de Saint−Just, [Brissot] assures that he would have gone to the by then ”almightly” Minister of Justice on September 2, in order to beg him to "take all means to stop these crimes that dishonored the revolution". But Danton would have told him that "this was necessary to appease the people of Paris, weary of seeing the conspirators go unpunished". Then he is said to have added: “It is an indispensable sacrifice […] besides, the people of Paris are not mistaken. Vox populi, vox Dei, that's the truest and most republican adage I know.” Since I can’t find this Réponse au rapport de Saint−Just anywhere, I’m just citing what the article says about it.

#danton #georges danton #yes i know this ask is two months old #but hey at least it’s almost september now #ask #french revolution #frev

[stobinesque]

phryctoria | chapter 6: four by one (delta)

Sometimes your gay awakening is just having someone to show you it’s possible. Steve realizes there's a whole gay world out there, waiting for them.

Now Complete!

[1][2][3][4][5] | [Read on AO3]

"Robbie, honey, is that you?" Mrs. Buckley calls out as the front door swings shut behind them.

"Yeah, mom!" Robin shouts back as she toes off her shoes.

"Is Steve with you?" Robin claims her mother has some sort of sixth sense for Steve's presence in the house. Steve thinks it’s just a safe bet to assume he’s there, seeing as that's the case more often than not.

"I am!" Steve affirms, as Robin grabs his hand to drag him up to her room. The staircase has a direct line of sight to the living room, where Robin's parents are curled together on their squashy couch, watching something Steve can't make out on the tiny television set.

"There are leftovers in the fridge." Mr. Buckley says as they pass by.

"Thank you, sir." Robin tugs at Steve’s wrist impatiently. "Uh…we’ll grab some later," he says, tripping up the stairs after Robin.

"Ugh, you're such a suck-up!" she declares as she flops back onto her bed.

"I have to stay on their good side! They’re both half-convinced I'm one step away from stealing your virginity."

"Eugh, please don't say that." Robin pulls open her bag and starts dumping the contents onto her mattress. "Besides, they wouldn't have any room to talk. I was conceived in the back of my dad’s Volkswagen."

Steve hops up onto the bed, stretching his legs out in front of him. He picks up his pamphlet from the books and 'zines strewn across Robin's bed, and rolls it up to point at her. "Now, how—and why, exactly—do you know that?"

"Remember what I said about my parents and boundaries?"

“Okay, sure, that tracks.” Steve flips open the booklet with a little flourish. “So, wanna learn about how to fuck without dying?”

Robin arches a brow at him. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“No? What would I—?”

Steve flinches as something hits his chest and he looks down to see the reading glasses he’d bought earlier. “Really?”

“Yes, really! Put them on!”

Steve rolls his eyes, but puts them on. “Happy?”

“I am,” she sniffs with haughty self-satisfaction.

Steve pulls a face and mouths a mocking “I am!” as he picks the pamphlet back up and flicks it open. He skims his way down the table of contents—there’s a foreword, a preface, and an introduction for some reason—and his eyebrows start creeping up his forehead as he goes. Sucking, Fucking, Sadism & Masochism (S&M), Fist Fucking…mixed in with things Steve doesn’t even recognize (what the hell do “water sports” have to  do with sex?)

It's all a little daunting—like he should have started with a basic field guide to Sex With Men before jumping into figuring out how to do it safely.

But he’s here now, so he takes a deep breath, flips to the next page, and begins.

Barely three paragraphs in and he's right back to feeling in over his head. Is he supposed to have opinions on the causes of AIDS? He can count the number of times he’s heard or read about it in a context that wasn’t riddled with disgust and condemnation. All he really knows is that a diagnosis is as good as a death sentence.

He shakes his head, frustrated. "Hey, do you have a highlighter or something?"

Robin doesn’t say anything, but when Steve looks up to ask her again, something smacks him on the head—Robin having chosen to answer by way of lobbing a highlighter directly at his face. He's grudgingly impressed by her aim.

"Stop throwing things at me!"

Robin ignores him. "Careful, Stevie, you might turn into a nerd if you're not careful."

"...shut up." He uncaps the marker with a bitchy flourish to highlight the sentence “Sex doesn't make you sick—diseases do. Gay sex doesn't make you sick—gay men who are sick do.” It settles something in him that's been strung tight since Monday. Even if some part of him knew that he wasn't sick just by existing, he couldn't shake the memory of kids asking anyone they thought might be gay if they knew what it stood for, before shouting “Got AIDS Yet?” down the hall after them.

Steve grimaces at the memory, and carries on reading until he’s reached the end of the introduction, highlighting a sentence at the end there

Our challenge is to figure out how we can have gay, life-affirming sex, satisfy our emotional needs, and stay alive!

He's never really thought of sex as anything more than a kind of fraught balancing act between performance and pleasure—let alone “life-affirming.”

Except...that is kind of what it was between him and Nancy right? It's why they'd drifted back together after everything. They'd both only had each other—well, Nancy had Jonathan, too, kind of. But Steve had lost his two closest friends, and even if he hadn't, it’s not like he could have shared anything that'd happened to him without putting them in harm’s way.

(There had been a few times early on when Steve had considered reaching out to Tommy or Carol. But even without the worry that he might revert back to a version of himself that he was all too eager to leave in the rearview, he also didn't know what the point of trying to maintain a relationship with them was, when his entire understanding of the world had turned on its head.)

So Nancy and Steve had become NancyandSteve—not so much in deed as in perception. After Barb, after…everything…they'd both been hesitant to have sex again for a while. Steve didn't want to push Nancy into doing anything that would make her uncomfortable (and if Steve benefited from not having to perform quite so much, all the better). And Nancy always seemed like it was something she felt guilty for even wanting.

And then one night Steve had just kind of snapped and asked her outright “Do you want to have sex?”

It was like a dam bursting. As if all Nancy had needed was for someone to ask her what she actually wanted, instead of thinking herself in circles around what she should want.

"Penny for your thoughts, Fen?"

Steve doesn’t look up from where his eyes have lost on the words swimming in front of him. "Just…thinking about Nancy."

"Oh?" Robin’s voice is cautiously curious.

"Yeah, just like. I don't know. We didn't have sex all that often when we were together, but when we did, it was like…" Steve trails off, struggling to find the words.

"Like what?”

"Like…I don't know. Like us?” He says, finally looking up at Robin and gesturing between the two of them. “Like when we sleep together?”

Robin doesn't wrinkle her nose like he expects her to. Instead she tilts her head and gives him a considering look. "Like…comforting?"

Steve snaps his fingers and points at her. "Yeah! And it was fun, too, I guess. But it was mostly just…it was the one time where I felt like I could actually give her what she needed, you know?”

Robin shakes her head with a little frown. "I don't. That sounds…really sad, actually."

Steve huffs and drags a hand through his hair. "I'm not explaining this right."

"No, I think you are!" Robin reaches out to take one of his hands into hers. "Look, you don't really talk about Nancy, and I'm not asking you to do it now anymore than you already have or want to. But, the silence kind of speaks for itself, you know? I don't know what happened with the two of you, but I…I don't know, I'd see you together, sometimes, after Barb, and you both always seemed so sad. But you never really seemed like you were sad together, you know? You didn't even look like you were causing each other's sadness, you just…you looked like you were on these parallel tracks of grief. So…so maybe, when you were having sex it was like the one time where you both actually were on the same track? And that's…"

"Fucked up, because I'm gay, and her best friend died while she was losing her virginity? To me? A gay man?"

"Well, I wasn't gonna put it like that."

"Sure."

Silence falls between them, and Steve stares at the Ripley poster hanging on Robin’s wall. Thinking about Nancy has left him unsettled in a way he wouldn’t have expected it to. Not that realizing he’s gay should suddenly erase all of the heartbreak he’d felt at the end of things. But he thought he’d moved on. Come to terms with everything. But now, recontextualizing their relationship, and realizing how much it had really just been a means of survival than anything else for both of them…it leaves him feeling a little sick.

Robin cuts into his thoughts. "Okay, enough wallowing about shitty exes—"

"Nancy wasn't—”

"Shhhh,” Robin says, waving a hand in his face to get him to stop talking. “Let me be dramatically overprotective of you about this."

"Fine,” he says, even though something about it doesn’t sit right with him.

"Back to my point: stop wallowing, and get back to reading about how you can have hot gay sex safely, so I can live vicariously through you!"

Some of the tension bleeds out of him. "Okay, first of all, I don't think you want to be having the same kind of hot gay sex as me, and second of all, you’re coming with me! You can find a hot girl to bang!"

"I thought we’d already established that I don't want to have sex for the first time with a stranger!"

"Oh.” Steve falls back. Even having just talked about it earlier that evening he’d kind of…forgotten that other people might prefer to know the person they lose their virginity to. He hadn’t really had a choice. “Right."

"I think I'd be okay with kissing a girl that I don't know yet. But, like, how do you even tell if someone's interested in you?” She tangles her fingers in her hair and starts tugging at the roots. “And how do you flirt?"

"Okay, okay, one thing at a time.” Steve reaches forward to pull her hands from her hair, holding them to his chest. “You don't have to rush anything, you know—”

"Steve! It's not rushing things if I've…if I've known this about myself for years and I'm still just a clueless virgin!"

"Okay, well, I don't think me not being a virgin means I have any more of a clue about things than you do. It's just…” Steve gestures in the space between them. "It's just bodies! And, like, hearts and guts and brains, or whatever—but that's still just bodies! And if we're going to a gay club you'll have to exert a lot less effort into trying to figure out if someone likes you. You can just ask!”

"'You can just ask' he says.” Robin scoffs. “Have you ever 'just asked' a girl if she likes you?"

"Well, no, but that's because they're supposed to act like they don't."

"What?" Robin yanks her hands out of Steve’s grip with a violent jerk backwards.

"Yeah! Girls are supposed to act like they're all bashful or whatever about a guy liking them. So you have to come at it sideways, give them a little opening to sneak through." He holds his hands a couple inches apart and makes a little snaking motion in demonstration.

Robin gapes at him. "Straight people are fucking weird."

"Yeah, it's exhausting." There was something of a thrill to a successful seduction, though. It was a game Steve had been good at playing, once upon a time. It had just lost its appeal somewhere along the way. Maybe in a new context he'd find a way to make it fun again. "But there aren't any guys in the equation for you, so you don't have to do any of that."

"Okay, yeah, but what if everyone does still act like that, but because there's no men to do the asking everyone is just like! Awkwardly hovering around each other!”

"I literally just told you to do the asking."

"Yeah, well, what if your advice is bad! I've seen you try to flirt, Steve!"

"Yeah, you've seen me try to flirt with girls who I am not attracted to,” he argues back, gesticulating wildly. He slumps back and bites his lip, considering. "Okay, how about this,” he starts, leaning forward again. “I bet you that if you ask, you can get a girl to kiss you."

Robin narrows her eyes, "What's the winner get?”

Steve thinks for a second. "Full control of the stereo on the ride back."

"Deal." Robin spits into her palm and extends it to him. "Shake on it, Harrington."

Steve grimaces, but spits into his own palm, before grasping her hand in his. "Deal"

Steve returns to reading, but a few minutes later tosses it aside again with a frustrated huff, pressing the tips of his fingers into his eyes, as though that will chase away the budding headache.

“…you good over there?”

Steve drops his hands and blinks rapidly. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

Robin snorts. “Liar. What’s up? Why do you look like you just got your head shoved in a toilet?”

“Nothing, I just—it’s dumb.”

“Yeah, and?”

“And—I don’t want to bore you with stupid questions.”

“I’m pretty sure the no-stupid-questions rule is still in effect.”

“Yeah, but this isn’t a gay question or whatever—I just don’t know how to fucking read.”

Robin frowns, leaning forward to look at him more closely. “Okaaaaay, but clearly you do—you’ve been highlighting up a storm over there.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I understand anything!” Steve snaps his mouth shut and looks away. “Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

Robin plays with her hands, expression nervous. “Why does it matter if you don’t understand it?”

“What’s the point in reading any of this if I don’t know what it means?”

“No, no, I get that, I just mean—why are you acting like not understanding something will matter to me?”

Steve shrugs. “I mean, it has before.”

Robin stares at him, mouth agape. “What are you—are you talking about what I said about Click’s class?”

Steve doesn’t say anything.

“Okay, well, if it is, then you are an idiot, if you think literally any of 15-year-old me’s thoughts about you still apply now.” Robin shakes her head sadly. “Steve, you could ask me what color the fucking sky is—and I’d probably lie first, just to fuck with you a bit—but I definitely wouldn’t judge you for asking. I literally don’t care whether you’re a genius, or-or if you don’t know what two plus two is! The stupid little thoughts of a jealous teenager are entirely irrelevant to what we have here,” she says, gesturing between the two of them.

Steve is quiet, assessing her for even a bare hint of insincerity. There’s none to be found. Maybe he can hazard a chance at trusting someone again. As though he hasn’t been doing that this whole time. He sighs and hands the pamphlet over. “It’s not even that I don’t know what it’s saying, I just…every time I get to the end of the page it’s like everything I’ve just read falls out of my head.”

“Okay, well, maybe between the two of us we can get it to stick.” Robin holds her hand out and makes a grabby motion until Steve drops the highlighter into it. She skims through the whole section, humming occasionally as she underscores something.

A couple minutes later she looks back at him with a smile. “Okay, well, first off: this was also kind of dense for me. There’s, like, a lot of information here and it’s all presented very argumentatively and kind of assumes the person reading it knows more about the debatable causes of AIDS than I think either of us do. But basically it’s arguing that instead of AIDS being caused by one virus, it’s instead caused by a build-up of CMV, which is a totally different virus.”

Steve nods along. He does follow that. The foreword, preface, and introduction had all alluded to it, but once the authors got further into the details they’d started to lose him.

“Second of all, I don’t know if it really matters. I mean, obviously it matters that, like, scientists and doctors and whoever know the exact cause. But from what I can tell, it seems like regardless of the exact cause, we still have a reasonably good understanding of how it spreads—namely, sperm and blood. So I think as long as you understand everything else in here about how to prevent spreading or catching things, you’re probably good not to understand all of the science behind it.”

Steve nods and takes the pamphlet back from her. “Okay,” he says. “Uh, thanks.”

Robin nods. “Anytime, Steph.”

Steve blushes and smiles at her.

Reading the rest of the pamphlet gets much easier from there. He skims over the sections specifically covering CMV, figuring that he can return to them later if needed, but that they probably aren’t strictly relevant to him just yet.

About halfway through reading, he realizes that despite the heavy subject matter, he’s actually kind of enjoying reading it, in a way that’s unfamiliar to him. He’s always enjoyed having sex, but he’d never considered that he might also like learning about it. It’s a similar sort of satisfaction that he found in learning first aid for his lifeguard certification. But most of that was a hands-on kind of learning. Steve can’t remember a time he’s been anything other than frustrated while reading.

The writers talk about sex with an unrelenting frankness that is completely foreign to him. And they don’t limit themselves to the mere mechanics of the act. They dive into ethics and philosophy, and by the time Steve has made it to the last section, he finds himself highlighting whole paragraphs.

Gay men are socialized as men first; our gay socialization comes later. From the day we are born we are trained as men to compete with other men. The challenge facing gay men in America is to figure out how to love someone you’ve been trained to “destroy”

It knocks Steve off his feet. Like someone has held a mirror up to his life.

He remembers the adrenaline flooding him when he pinned Jonathan to the ground in that alley—and again, when Jonathan took him by the wrist and pulled him to safety hours later.

He remembers the jealousy and fear of losing to a boy he felt the need to prove himself better than.

But what if there had been love there all along? Buried deep beneath the pain and self-loathing.

The goal of gay male liberation must be to find ways in which love becomes possible despite continuing and often overwhelming pressure to compete and adopt adversary relationships with other men.

Steve traces over the lines of those sentences like they’re precious. Robin is the only other gay person he knows, and she knows only fractionally more about this world than he does.

And it is a world. There’s a whole history here. Beyond the scientific analysis of disease and recommendations for safer sex, that is what he’s found here. A community. A lineage. There’s a culture there lying in wait of discovery for the both of them. There are men who have walked the same gauntlet that Steve is just beginning to—and who have emerged on the other side. And maybe they’re all in peril together. But at least it is together.

If you love the person you are fucking with—even for one night—you will not want to make them sick.

Steve doesn’t know what he and Robin will find when they go to Indy. The world is larger and more complex than anything he’s going to find in a 40-page pamphlet.

But who knows, maybe he will find love there.

Maybe affection is our best protection.

Bonus! Chapter 7: Erratum & Appendices

Annotations to the text “How to Have Sex in an Epidemic” by Michael Callen and Richard Berkowitz, intro by Dr. Joseph Sonnabend - Spring 1985

[A/N: full text can be accessed here]

ANNOTATION, pg 9, following the section “WHAT CAUSES AIDS?”

While the multifactorial theory behind AIDS was already unpopular in the medical community at the time of this pamphlet’s initial publication, a greater preponderance of medical and community health experts now agree that the recently discovered virus HTLV III is the virus responsible for the development of AIDS. However, there is still much we do not know about the virus’ transmission. That said: the guidelines for safer sex outlined by Callen and Berkowitz, and supported by Dr. Sonnabend, are still likely to greatly mitigate the risk of transmitting or acquiring the HTLV III virus and, subsequently, AIDS.

While most professionals agree that CMV is not the cause of AIDS, CMV remains a disease that MSM should be careful to minimize their risk of transmitting. The risks and effects of CMV as highlighted by the authors in this pamphlet—excepting its connection to AIDS—remain sound; as do their recommendations for mitigating transmission.

For individuals interested in getting tested for the HTLV III virus, an Alternate Test Site has recently opened opened at the Indiana University Medical Center. This testing site, unlike others in the area, guarantees anonymity and privacy for those who wish to get tested. A positive test for HTLV III does not mean you have AIDS, an AIDS related condition, nor does it mean you will develop AIDS in the future.

For further information about the HTLV III test, call the Indianapolis Gay & Lesbian Switchboard at [phone]. They have a 24 hour answering service, and make calls back between 7 and 11PM.

ANNOTATION, pg 24, following “KISSING”

While HTLV III has been detected in saliva, there have been no reported cases of AIDS transmitted via kissing, or shared foods or utensils. Community health experts are in near unanimous agreement that kissing bears no risk of transmission of HTLV III/AIDS.

ANNOTATION, p. 20, following “FUCKING”

Studies are inconclusive as to the effectiveness of natural condoms for VD prevention. But as the authors state, natural condoms have a lower risk of breakage to their latex counterparts.

ANNOTATION, p. 21, within the section “GETTING FUCKED”

The importance of lubrication during anal sex cannot be overstated. Lubrication decreases the chances of condoms breaking, and of microtears of the rectal lining.

ANNOTATION, p. 22, following “GETTING FUCKED”

Always be sure to carefully follow the instructions of use for any prophylactic. Condom wrappers should always be opened carefully, with ones hands.

Appendix: STEVE (and Robin's) GUIDE TO SAFELY FUCKING

CLEAR HEAD TO GET HEAD! If you’re planning to fuck, you can’t be drunk!

TALK IT OUT! Always be sure to talk to your partner about limits and safety before getting it on

KEEP IT CLEAN! It’s important to wash up before and after sex to limit the spread of bacteria and germs

WRAP IT UP! If you’re going to fuck someone, or have someone suck you off, make sure you’re wearing a condom

Always open condom wrappers CAREFULLY with your HANDS—ripping wrappers open with your teeth stops being sexy the moment the condom tears

If you’re not going to wear a condom, make sure you don’t come anywhere inside your partner (especially their ass!!!)

KISSING: ✔️✔️✔️

GET CREATIVE There are lots of things to do that pose no risk at all!

GET HANDY: mutual masturbation is a completely safe way for two (or more) to get it on. Throw in some dirty talk to add a little extra HEAT!

IT’S ABOUT LOVE, even if only for a night

***

Authors Note: please keep in mind that everything in this chapter reflects what was known of HIV/AIDS c. 1985! Please do not take safe sex advice from a fanfic!

#steve harrington #robin buckley #stobin #platonic stobin #gay steve harrington #read writes #phryctoria #semiotics 'verse

[tatachin]

Pathos - an excerpt of the chapter from my Modes of Persuasion fic

Description: Johan centric fic

A dull thud, and hairline cracks spread out under where Johan has him pinned.

"You don't know how much I hate you," Johan hisses. "how dare you hurt them so, you have no idea how much they love us-"

A startled, derisive laugh. "How dare I? Hahaha!" His forearm gripped in a bruising, destructive hold. "I could say the same for you, mongrel." There's a struggle, halfhearted in the way that's only meant to make a point. "You have no idea how much I've suffered with your image imposed on me," They're close enough that his snarl sends spittle flying onto his face. Johan holds firm, still. "not just your pathetic worthless of a god but mine! all I wanted was to serve my god in peace and yet! Talks of belonging to someone else, like all my efforts was worth nothing to him!"

Something snaps his counterpart, and his struggle proves fruitful this time as his rage doubles his strength, sending Johan stumbling back a few steps. As if he was angry that he had accidentally let loose his one vulnerability to his nemesis.

"You will never know what it feels like!" Black hair whips back from the gale caused by summoning Exelion and Johan gets a split second to brace against at a reckless swinging bash. "To forever live in someone's shadow!"

"To be abandoned since birth!" A ringing clash, and they're both at a stalemate again as their swords lock against each other. Johan grits his teeth from the exertion.

"Unwanted," His counterpart spits out with an aggrieved, desperate light in his eyes. "even by the god you devoted your entire self to."

Something resonates with Johan's deepest fears, and his back chills as if someone dug out his old ghosts to haunt him.

Golden eyes sharpen at his brief falter, and with a sweeping blow Johan's sent back a few more steps, with ridicule in those awful eyes for sympathizing, worse, showing hesitation before the enemy.

Anger vibrates the air around them as they're both just one step shy from summoning a barrage of Exelions to run each other through, self mutilation be damned.

"So what if your god preaches free will?" His counterpart utters sulkily, as their swords crashes together once more. "I never wanted anything to do with them at all."

"..."

So what, indeed. And what can he even say to him?

Fury, indignity, condemnation, but most of all, regret. For a life lived in shadows, for a life where he was weighted with undue burdens. Nothing he can say here would help either of them. They could only go around in circles, round and round, only hating and hurting each other as they continue this worthless stalemate.

His dark aligned counterpart tracks his damning hair with a vengeance, a head of spun gold that they love so much. In a moment of clarity, he reads envy, jealousy, and so much want.

A twist of his arm, a wrist flick, and Johan parries the lock away. A quick few steps away, he's retreating like he's been burned, not so much of a let go but a throwing motion. Backing away with shame coloring his visage, he collects his swords in terse silence, all without taking his eyes off his counterpart.

At his silence, "What, nothing else to say anymore?" his counterpart snarks with a hand massaging his neck where cloth chafed skin from their previous scuffle, as if it could hide where the other hand wrapped around the hidden weapon strapped to his thigh.

Johan hates how he knows. Hates how they have the same habits, hates how he sees they have the same reasoning and logical pathways, hates hates hates. He doesn't like how he ended up like this in this lifetime, just as he knows this is how he'd end up in every lifetime had it not been for lord's influence, or anyone's really, if he never had help from the mire he was born in.

tbc

#lord of heroes #loh #loh johan #vord womit #lord of heroes johan talede #lord of heroes johan valenschute

[ciaossu-imagines]

For the weekend mini-event, how about Scepter 4 + Homra where "Imagine all your OCs trapped in IKEA together" and that is one funny idea :D

That is an absolutely hilarious idea, so thank you so much for sending it in! I hope you'll enjoy the headcanons!

So HOMRA's alphabet boys are at IKEA because Shouhei got a new apartment after his old one was infested with bedbugs, which, along with some serious mold and structural issues, meant that the building got condemned, and he now needs new furniture and what he couldn't find at a second-hand store, he plans on getting at IKEA because hell, he's cheap. He's only working part time jobs, after all. And the others just kind of tag along with him, because he was mentioning it at the bar. Kamamoto came along for IKEA's food court and Yata had nothing better to do that day. Even Anna's there, mostly because she needs a new lamp for her bedside table. Some certain people might have been goofing around with a ball and might have ended up throwing it into her room and breaking her alarm clock and her lamp. She doesn't much care about the alarm clock...but she really liked that lamp and hopes IKEA has something similar.

Scepter 4's Alphabet Boys are there carrying out errands for the higher up's and doing some of their own shopping. Munakata and Seri are much too busy to really do their own IKEA runs, even if it is stuff needed for the headquarters or the dorms, and Fushimi would probably rather die than ever set foot in an IKEA, let's be real. The task was initially trusted to Akiyama, Benzai, Fuse, and Kamo but Hidaka tagged along because an extra set of hands never hurts things, Andy thought the errands seemed fun, Enomoto had things he needed, and Goto just got finished reading a horror novel that was set in a renamed IKEA and wanted to go see if all IKEA's were haunted.

Goto is very disappointed in both the lack of ghosts and the lack of anything interesting.

Bandou and Enomoto end up getting into a shouting match in the Smart Home section of IKEA as they're both fans of different technology vis a vis smart homes, and what started off as a debate ended up becoming far more.

Chitose's taking a nap on one of the display couches, under the guise of 'researching the best sofa' for Shouhei. Dewa got bored with the whole IKEA run half-way through and is sitting opposite Chitose in a display chair and reading. He's really in love with the chair and probably even buys one to have as a reading chair in his apartment.

Kamamoto and Hidaka both end up in the food court...and they know each other. They know who the other is and they really should be fighting, they both know it but like...there's the meatballs and who can really fight a dude who's just trying to chill and eat his meatballs?

Kamo ends up helping Anna with her lamp shopping after he got her a lamp she'd been trying to reach on one of the high-up shelves. He ends up recommending her the one he'd buy his daughter and she feels too bad after hearing him say that that she buys it despite thinking it's ugly.

Yata actually ends up being the only one to actually seriously help Shouhei with his shopping, but he disappears when it comes time to put all the furniture together somehow. Benzai and Akiyama pass them a few times, but they both mostly just do their own thing and ignore the HOMRA boys, who never even notice them because they're not in uniform.

Eric and Fujishima have spent almost the entire time in the pet section, where Fujishima finds a lot of great deals for all the strays he feeds and takes care of. He leaves IKEA the happiest.

#mini event asks #k project #project k #headcanons #yata misaki #kamamoto rikio #shouhei akagi #bandou saburouta #dewa masaomi #chitose yo #eric solt #eric surt #kousuke fujishima #akiyama himori #benzai yujiro #kamo ryuho #domyoji andy #enomoto tetsuya #fuse daiki #goto ren #hidaka akira

[runthepockets]

The craziest thing about transitioning and primarily dating / fucking a lot of trans women is watching them do shit to me that my traumatized high school ex girlfriend did to both boys her age and older men a lot of the time; using me and my sexuality as an easy source of validation. I can count on two hands the amount of times a trans woman has put the moves on me and seen me as an easy lay, only to chicken out or fly off the handle when I reciprocate or try to do anything irl, much like my ex girlfriend did with her male friends. Sex is a power thing in these situations, a source of social capital and control rather than a genuine means of bonding or connecting with another human being, which is why they see it as ok to approach me with shallow intent, but not the inverse. Somewhat like when your mom has a bad day at work and yells at you over trivial shit like having socks on the floor in your room, it's a way to regain that autonomy and time that's stolen and beaten out of you.

And I mean, I get it. Look at how our society treats women and girls and their sexualities. There are several derogatory words and phrases in the English language alone that condemn women for wanting anything, women in tv and film for decades now have had nothing to offer except their breasts hips and asses, femme fatale tropes were pretty much everywhere from the 80s to the mid 2010s, the MeToo movement of the last decade, conflicting ideas in feminist spaces that give little to no consideration of intersectionality, throw being a trans woman in a patriarchal society in the mix and of course you're going to walk away with some screwed up ideas about sexuality. Hell, even as a guy who wasn't the primary target of a lot of that shit, I have some pretty screwed up ideas of it myself. Tbh after years of being a social nobody, it's kinda nice to be that sort of beacon of male authority for somebody that clearly wants approval in a way I can provide by just, existing. I'm a horny, straight, masculine guy, and I like female attention. We're both getting validation of some sort out of it. It's definitely a mutual thing, and it's kinda cool. It's one of those things that's gender affirming, even if it's in a very roundabout and vaguely disrespectful way.

But still, I'm a human being. All institutional and political connotations aside. I have feelings and needs, I very rarely harbor resentment or malice, so while I absolutely sympathize with these women and their traumas and try to be patient, I wish they would grant me the same graces. I really fucking hate that our society has screwed women over so much and continues to do so so often that even in trans spaces this kind of stuff is unavoidable. "Men only want one thing" taken to its logical extreme is kinda the overarching theme in all this. It feels like shit being seen as disposable or an easy quick lay / itch you need to scratch that you never have to think about again when I actually, genuinely am attracted to and care about trans women as friends and lovers, and actually want to build relationships with a lot of them instead of being seen as a walking dildo. Like I said, this mindset isn't entirely new and it's not the fault of any singular woman, nor is it unique to trans people, this has been a recurring pattern in spaces where marginalized men and women date each other since the fucking dawn of time. But damn is it frustrating. I wanna write a case study on shit like this when I'm older and significantly more secure.

#I'm kinda glad I dated my dipshit ex in high school or I would be very confused and taking a lot of this shit super personally. #And it does get to me don't get me wrong but I've seen it happen so many times just by virtue of dating and befriending women in the 21st #century. Shit is so fucked and until there's a large scale solution rather than 'go to therapy' it's just gonna keep being like this #fuck patriarchy fr.

[caralara]

I read your take on the MV and your take on Xarry both of which are certainly thought through and well argued. I've always believed (well, since solo Harry launched) that Xarry and BG as similtaneous stunts were part of the set up for solo H. And BG (and the rump of Xarry) are still a stunts for solo H because the only people who benefit from BG are the assholes manipulating Harry's image. I don't see much interest in Louis or his career on your blog so please forgive me if you're no longer a Larrie, but assuming you are, the thing that's always shocked me and has over the years pushed me to the edge of the fandom, is that even Larries who can see what happened and is happening are still playing the roles allotted to us. We're obsessed about and revelling in the Harry brand created by the very people Harrys exposing to rake in maximum revenue, whether harry likes it or not and we give the HS brand all the support and crazed loyalty and $ that Sony and Jeff could have dreamed off way back when they were planning it all out. While Louis, who's been fighting for his professional life all this time against the same basic power bloc and people, is judged and condemned and periodically boycotted BY US for things like BG which are no more in his control than Harry's. We do EXACTLY what the industry wants. Harrys condeming us too. Maybe we should listen to what he's trying to say. Whenever Larries threaten to stop spending on Harry™️ unless things change for HL, sometimes it works, like suddenly Louis got to release Walls just before they needed us for FL or maybe Harry gets some slack. As Larries, shouldn't we KNOW that Harry desperately wants us to help Louis who he adores, with all our might instead of ignoring or trying to punish him. Do we think he wants us instead to boycott Louis for having to stunt, and eagerly help Jeff and Rob Stringer use him (Harry) relentlessly, as we have been doing? All we do is collude in Harrys exploitation and Louis erasure like Sony/HSHQ puppets. I really wonder what Lou and Harry think of us now, the fandom that used to get it and fight back for both of them. :(

Hi anon,

First off, I am a bit surprised you’d say it seems like I don’t care much about Louis, because i am so fucking in love with this human it’s not even funny anymore (like, literally, I don’t know what to do with myself, it’s like a stupid crush) and I’m very very much a larrie. But you are right, I guess, I don’t blog about Louis from a visual point as much as I do about Harry, I guess I do that more on Twitter, I never noticed.

To your ask: thank you for the compliment about my posts! But I disagree with a lot you’re saying, actually.

Especially with Louis recently saying that the split was sort of surprising to him and he genuinely thought they‘d get back together much earlier, I don’t see Xarry & bbg to be a set up for solo Harry. I don’t think Louis would have gone through with bbg if it wasn’t to make a coming out for Harry within the band and close proximity to himself happen. To me the reason why they did xarry and bbg was precisely bc H&L were so publicly linked via 1D that they couldn’t have Harry come out as bi or whatever without risking to our Larry in the process.

And you see that they did a 180* turn as soon as the solo management contract with the azoffs was signed. So if you go along with that, your reasoning has some logical holes.

Another point is that I don’t like is that you say „we“ a lot - I don’t see myself in the we. I don’t go and throw money (= reward ) at anything Harry does. I don’t eat it up the way harries do. I am, in my opinion, quite the opposite. I am vocal about everything that’s happening online, and in person, show up to support Harry in person where I can and trying to avoid spending an unjustified amount of money. I own one piece of second hand Harry merch. So, I don’t agree. There’s a big part of the fandom that sees through it and is vocal about it, and they know and they see that. Why else do you think Harry would’ve made the music video the way he did if he didn’t think at least some people would get it??

Also I certainly am not boycotting anything from Louis, and I don’t actually know anyone personally who does, only hear stories about someone knowing someone, so idk, maybe you just surround yourself with the wrong people in the fandom. I show up for Louis, and show him my support, I organised a wholes freaking fan project for him, the @louislovebook, and honestly - when I met him and he pointedly said something about what I was wearing (and it happened to someone else that week, too) it cemented that he appreciates us larries and appreciates us showing up and showing our support for them.

But thank you for sharing your thoughts.

#anon #bbg #babygate #xarry #fandom

[duskshrouded]

[AUTHOR'S NOTE: The following contains violent themes, death, mentions of blood, war, and other such dark things. While I do not go too heavily in detail on more potentially graphic scenes, you have been warned. This is not a happy drabble. This is not a happy piece of backstory lore I have at all. I've placed it under a read more for both to keep the potentially triggering things out of view -- And this is a long piece of literature.

That aside, this is part ONE of things I'll be posting in regards to Vamp!Ren's past. But welcome to a good glimpse into his villian arc and just how vast of a lore based world I and some of my friends have ended up creating.]

Word Count: 1,325

Setting: Five Hundred Years Before the Modern Age of Magic

Calla Lilies Part 1: Blood Soaked Skies

The smell of iron, smoke, and sweat was rampant upon the air, as the Vampire King stepped foot onto the battlefield. Dracula himself wished not for this war. . . But where was the father of the vampires now? His children had gone so astray and Ren had made sure of it, given he had gathered them and those of similar ilk under his command.

So what was he to gain out of this war between mortal and the immortal?

It was quite simple: Retribution. Retribution for all of those years he spent being SHAMED, persecuted by the humankind for being DIFFERENT, for being born a child of the MOONLIGHT. He had tried so desperately to fit in with them. . . But it mattered naught.

Every time they saw his FANGS or the RUBY GLOW of his eyes or the fact his ears were POINTED, they knew and then they would always RUN, or physically HARM, or STONE him with their words to the point his heart finally SNAPPED, giving way to a new form of REVOLUTION in his mind.

What if the immortals finally showed their worth? After all, Ren wasn't the only one who had been treated like the lowest beings of the earth. What if they rose above the fragile humans who thought themselves better than they who could do so much MORE than humans could ever hope to dream?

Pitiful creatures.

So thus he stood upon the hill, thunder rumbling above, as dark dragons roared and pained screams rang out, observing the chaos reigning in front of him. A deep breath is taken in, before he releases it, hand raising to the black and red claymore upon his back, engraved runes upon the steel glowing red as soon as his gloved fingers take hold of the hilt.

"You've come."

Ren's voice is low, measured as the weapon is removed from his back, coming to rest at his side, as he then turns, cape billowing in the wind gust blowing through. There he was, one of the many traitors of the immortals standing before him, his own weapons drawn. A flaming sword and shield were in his hands, purple hues settling upon the vampire king in front of him.

To match his weapons, two large flaming wings spread forth, rain evaporating before they can even fall upon that ever reincarnating fire.

"Neither Dracula nor Yggdrasil wished for this, you know this, Ren."

The phoenix speaks, straightening more, standing his ground, determination set in his eyes. Ren merely laughs at the other ginger, amused that he thought he could chastise him of all things.

"Oh? And where is Daddy Dearest or the World Tree at, hmm? Father's been gone for oh so long now... And what of the Tree? Sending his pet bird to come stand before me? Doesn't he see the humans he created are so terribly selfish? So terribly vile? Why--"

"And what of YOU?"

The young man bites out, pointing his sword towards Ren now, anger now blazing in purple eyes.

"You are not any better than the humans you choose to condemn! You who started this war! We were trying to find peace! You've ruined it all! You've let innocent lives be claimed, not just of humans, but of those who you claim to fight for!"

"Oh and what would you know, oh one who has shielded your master time and time again? Isn't the sting of death getting old now? Just because you come back every dawn, doesn't mean you should just throw your life away senselessly."

Ren retorts, sneering a bit. He raises his arm, pointing his claymore out to the raging battle behind him.

"Words failed, so we took action."

"Fire does not stop fire! It only consumes and destroys! Yes, things can rise from the ashes, but lives are just that... Lives! You cannot bring back those who fall! They're lost forever in this pointless strife!"

A sigh leaves the vampire at the fact the phoenix was still TALKING. The self proclaimed king had heard enough at this point. It was time for actions to speak, because once again it was clear: Words never worked.

"Enough of this charade, raise your blade, Phoenix, let's see if your flames can withstand me!"

The moment the last word left Ren's mouth, he pushed off from the ground, it cracking beneath the force as he closed the distance, steel clashing together.

"So shall it be."

The knight agrees through gritted teeth, pushing back with enough strength to put distance between himself and the Vampire King. Flaming sword raises high, calling down a flurry of fiery spheres. Ren shifts to the side, ink black magic showing to block flames that would have hit him in the move.

Now there was just two problems for the phoenix... One, while the avian was strong and blessed by the goddess who had originally created him -- That goddess had long since passed from every fathomable universe because of her selfless but foolish act taken eons ago. So though he served Yggdrasil directly now, he was by no means as strong as he could be if his creator was alive.

And two? This battle was acting out beneath the light of a blood moon, meaning Ren and all his denizens were at their strongest possible power. Yet the bird just had to try to pick fights he couldn't hope to win all for the sake of some stupid sense of nobility and honor.

So when the young man dives down to try to block Ren's sword with his shield to open the chance to thrust his own sword through -- The Vampire King decided that while he could play with his opponent a bit longer, he had better uses of his time.

Thus, when shield meets blade, the steel isn't halted at all -- Instead it sundering through both metal and flesh. Shield and left arm now out of commission for the phoenix, he moves to try to defend himself with sword alone -- Only for Ren to simply grasp hold of the flaming blade itself and cast it aside like a toy.

"Is this a game to you, Tsukasa?" The Vampire King speaks, for once addressing the knight properly. "Or do you not understand this is over? You cannot stop me, you are too weak, much like your compassionate heart. I could have spared you. Let you walk away, but no, you just had to fight me for the sake of filthy mortals."

"Ren, stop thi-"

"SILENCE!"

Ren's own sword now turned towards the wounded creature, dark magic grasping ahold to keep him from escaping.

"I could have spared you this meeting with Death again, but it seems I've no choice, lest you continue being an annoying thorn in my side, and while I could make you completely immobile and useless and let you lie on the ground in a pool of your own blood, I think I'd rather just send you to welcome the dawn instead."

Without further ado, he plunges his claymore deep into the phoenix's chest, piercing through the armor upon him as if he hadn't been wearing any at all.

"Ren... When will you understand...?"

"No. When will, YOU understand? Now. When you wake tomorrow morning and bright and well with the world, let the tree know something. I don't give a damn about the humans he created, I don't give a damn about what he thinks, I don't give a damn about anything he might want to say to me. I will win this war and I will shown him that this is how it should have been from the start."

With that the sword is removed, magic releasing Tsukasa to let him crumple to the ground, his body to soon turn to ashes so that his reincarnation might happen anew.

"Now then..." A quick, heavy flick of his claymore removes most of the blood upon it. "Let's bring this into order, shall we?"

#( v. beneath the moonlight || vampire ) #( x. pages never ending || drabbles ) #tw: death #tw: blood #tw: violence

[eristic-kaleidoscope]

The Muddled Palms of Our Hands || Byrne || Trial 4-5 || RE: Jae-min, Kenshin, KOKONE

In truth, Byrne hadn't planned on saying a thing from here on. Defending one felt like condemning the others, and none of the options were ones he wanted to reckon with. There were times he figured he needed to just... stand down, and spend the rest of his time preparing to mourn. To lose another. And that stung. There'd yet to be a single case where he'd been let off woundless, and it seemed that trend would more or less continue, wouldn't it?

He... really hadn't planned on saying a thing. He really hadn't.

Byrne winced as his name was invoked.

"My guy, first you say that no defense I can give is worth anything because of my bias, and then you ask me to fucking throw my boyfriend under the bus two fuckin' sentences later? Do you not even have an OUNCE of sympathy for any of the four of us right now? Give me a fucking break! Besides, don't YOU live in a house? Doesn't EVERYONE here live in a house? It's not fucking weird for anyone here to have a key!"

He wheezed, clearly struggling. He wasn't NEARLY as enraged as he'd been only a day before, but that didn't mean he couldn't get upset. Not when he felt like he was being put into an INCREDIBLY unfair position on all sides, and... And it wasn't even like... Ugh. He pressed a hand to his forehead and reached into his pocket, pulling out a keyring only to stop partway, as Kenshin spoke in his stead. Byrne's own keys slid back into his pocket as he swallowed, listening to the lament.

Byrne lowered his voice.

"I already know nobody's gonna trust it so thanks for point that out but... Kenshin never wakes up earlier than 8 pretty much ever. Most of the time is more like 10 or 11, even, and... That didn't change during the motive. And before you can say he did prep last night, he was too busy taking care of my wasted ass having a mental breakdown and dragging me back to the room when  I was trying to get drunk enough to pass out outside and evade the 'sleep in your own dorm' rule. He had his hands full."

... He sighed. He hadn't had the chance to have a proper conversation with his memories returned to him yet. That was just another little box to add to the to-do list. It felt like it kept growing, with increasingly little time to actually tick the boxes.

... The problem was he didn't exactly have a logically sound argument to protect END or KOKONE here other than another 'They would never.' Which as established, was flimsy as hell. He let out a shaken breath, flashing both an apologetic look. But he would never accuse them, either. This was the best he could manage in his upset.

Listening to KOKONE, however, it was almost like a verbal gut punch of a different variety. Was... Byrne making them feel that way? ... Had he not... expressed enough appreciation? Was his insistence on calling them KOKONE a problem, actually? He stared at the ground.

"... I never disliked you. If I did, I wouldn't've... Spent as long talking to you as I did yesterday, and... Just because you were different didn't make you any less of a friend to me, y'know? Having gotten to know the both of you a little bit, I think I can... solidly say I like both. But... ahah... That's... That doesn't sound like you, y'know? ... Dunno if you remember it? How we talked about... How we'd both fuckin' live, for the sake of other people if not for ourselves? Back in the petting zoo? ... You'd said you wouldn't murder anybody ever back then, and I still wanna believe that."

He swallowed. Oh how he desperate he was to want to believe neither of them to have done a thing.

#chapter4 #trial4 #submission

[thepaininurneck]

Okay, wow, never in my life did I think a music video involving giving Satan a lap dance would delve into a conversation about gay rights ( and how gay men are portrayed in media ), but Lil Nas X broke the world with MONTERO, so here I am. We’ve got three things here that I think are important - Internet culture, religion, sexuality. These are the things that I think people are getting too uptight over/not upset enough over, and I wanna rant for a bit, so bear with me on this one.

First, I LOVED MONTERO. I’m a whore for religious imagery/theming/etc. being used in media, and as a former Christian and an openly gay woman, it makes me very happy to see it used in a spiteful manner. MONTERO was gorgeous - sexual, unapologetic, and so clearly pulling straight from Biblical stories. The religion used commonly against us ( here in the US, at least, because I know other religions can be just as oppressive, if not worse, and Christianity isn’t the dominant religion everywhere ) being used in a way that’s expressive of our lives is beautiful. The very clear message of “Oh, I’m going to hell? That’s okay,” is perfect - for so many LGBT people in this country, we’ve been told that we’re condemned to eternal punishment because of something we can’t help. LNX took that in stride and made it art, with MONTERO and the video. I am in full support of it and will be throwing it on my horny playlist.

But here’s why I think this is so important - MONTERO’s release has exposed, in my opinion, where the real issues lie in Western culture. WAP did this too, a little - both of these songs, and their accompanying videos, were criticized using children. “Children watch you”, “how could you expose kids to this”, etc. were complaints hurled at Cardi B and LNX over their music. And in LNX’s case, people used his previous success with Old Town Road - I saw one tweet saying Old Town Road is “every kid’s anthem”, and that their children love Old Town Road. Which is problematic - how can you complain about MONTERO, but allow your child to listen to a song with lyrics such as “Lean all in my bladder”, “Cheated on my baby, you can go and ask her”, “Bull riding and boobies” - Old Town Road is not a child-friendly song by any means, but LNX didn’t include naked breasts, or ( as far as I’m aware ) market the song in a way that showcased those lyrics. So parents let their children enjoy their funny horse song, never looking into the words their kids were hearing daily. But with MONTERO, because they saw at a glance that it was an issue, they assumed this meant the previously “child-friendly” artist LNX, the man behind the funny horse song, was suddenly trying to indoctrinate their children. When in reality, LNX has never catered to kids. He’s always been open about his music and himself, and it’s entirely the parents’ faults for not better monitoring what media their children take in. It is never the responsibility of the creator to change their content for an audience they didn’t want. MONTERO, and WAP, both exposed just how internet culture has allowed parents an excuse to be lazy, hands-off pieces of shit, and demonize creators further.

MONTERO also exposed how homophobia continues to follow us, in how many comments there were calling LNX predatory, claiming he was indoctrinating children and pushing agendas - and, with Kaitlin Bennet’s actual racist comments, now he’s being slandered. ( if you didn’t see that beef, TLDR: Kaitlin asked “do you still see your dad?” w/ blatant intent to hurt, LNX replied with “yeah and I’ll fuck yours”, to which Kaitlin accused him of threatening to rape her father and several small, conservative ‘journalists’ ran with it ). I don’t like throwing around the word homophobia, but this isn’t new - gay men have been called predatory for a long time and demonized for even small gestures like holding hands. And now, an openly gay man made a video celebrating his sexuality ( which isn’t a new topic: look at any music video from the early 2000s for more examples of people expressing sexuality ) and given fuel to these idiots to continue pushing their narrative of “gay man predator, gay man bad”. Fortunately, it’s a lot less than it would’ve been thirty years ago. But the fact that it still happens on this scale, enough that journalists pick it up as a story, and governors, Candace Owens and other prominent homophobic conservative figures jump on the bandwagon....it’s sad. A man celebrating his sexuality shouldn’t be demonized the way it is, and MONTERO is doing an amazing job at spitting in people’s faces.

Cutting myself short here, I think MONTERO was a gift. It’s a work of art in many ways, but the social response it generated is also a blessing in that it shows what we need to prioritize - which is self responsibility. No one is forcing you to watch the gay man give Satan a lap dance, nor are they forcing you to buy his shoes. No one will ever force you into that - you, a consenting adult/teenager, willingly watched it. You’re reading this now of your own choice. If your child is watching MONTERO, you should blame yourself if you’re mad - why didn’t you monitor them better? Teach them to avoid things they don’t recognize online? You failed as a parent to protect your child from what you deem harmful. That isn’t anyone’s fault except your own as their active guardian.

Sex, talking about sex, grinding, lap dances....those aren’t new to music videos. They’ve been happening for decades, actually - early 90’s and 2000’s videos had a lot, and I think some 80’s had them. MONTERO didn’t invent NSFW music videos, the only difference is it’s gay and dared to use religious imagery ( which also isn’t new, but that’s another rant I don’t want to get into ). For once, I actually agree with the masses - this outrage was mostly fueled by homophobia and dumb Christians. And to any Christians reading this ( that didn’t get offended, because if you got genuinely upset by this drama, fuck you ); you’re cool.

Anyways, yeah. I think MONTERO was awesome, LNX killed it as always, and I hate conservatives. Goodnight.

#lil nas x #lnx #I sound like an sjw #but in a good way #might burn down a church later idk #Davey sleepy rants