#Murder and Other Unnatural Disasters

[thepersonalwords]

His overactive charm poured out like a lone drainage pipe after a flash flood.

Lida Sideris, Murder and Other Unnatural Disasters

[apocalypse-shuffle]

DIANA PRINCE | WONDER WOMAN (the flashpoint paradox)

—

“The Messenger Bird Sings” (Diana Prince x Fem!Reader)

| Infiltrating Themyscira to save a resistance member is a disaster. But it leads to unexpected consequences when the Queen captures you.

| SFW, open ending, infatuated!reader, (TW: captured!reader, spoils of war, unfettered murder), -dark!wonder woman

| pics via: Justice League: The Flashpoint Paradox animated movie

| Here’s a link to the scene this is based on. The words/dialogue that are mine are mine and the words that are from the movie are not mine.

| 2k+ words

Sneaking around New Themyscira is a feat you didn’t think you’d ever experience but, lo and behold, here you were.

The island was beautiful in a way that reminded you of what used to be. It’s battle torn, but the skies are still bright blue and the air’s still unnaturally fresh and fizzling with magic.

Even if it’s not the same as you're sure it’d be on the original “Paradise Island”, the residual effect of the Amazon’s whimsy sticks to the place like it was fated to be. Like their magic lays as much claim over this part of what used to be Europe as they do.

It’s a drastic contrast to the wreckage all around you all.

“Alright crew, we meet back at the ship by dusk. This is an evidence gathering retreat and extraction mission so stay out of sight and do not engage.” Steve’s command stays quiet through coms even as he shifts to giving out individual instructions next. His voice a steady balm that you lock onto to distract you enough you don’t have to keep biting back your grin.

─────

It’s hours before anything worthwhile than ducking and hiding takes place.

Initially Steve’s group was primarily tasked with direct extraction of Lois Lane from behind enemy lines but you had run into her, and a small number of other survivors hiding in the nature reclaimed remains of what used to be London, first.

Your branch-off specifically is just meant to be gathering enough tangible evidence that the Amazon’s are taking human hostages to finally push the last remaining world leader to actually let Steve’s task force move in to save them.

Years ago you’d thought politics was hard to navigate. Now it was a literal minefield, one wrong move and someone would take off your head.

You’re hoping at the very least your wrong move doesn’t happen here.

The Amazons were brutal. What little clear footage that still remained showed their killing prowess off well. They didn’t level cities the way the Atlanteans did, but at the beginning of all this they’d conquered their way across the Mediterranean in less than a week and no one had even noticed.

The Atlanteans were too loud, even put up against the Amazons brutality and true disdain for humanity. Especially men. Atlantis had taken over the European Coast with brute force and luck that their extremely obvious assault couldn’t be stopped by any human forces.

If the human world had been anywhere near as technologically advanced and superhuman you’re sure that Atlantis would’ve fallen that day. King Arthur had put all of his forces, after the Amazon’s had near silently ran them off, into conquering Europe’s waters but he’d made a gamble in doing so.

The Amazon’s didn’t gamble.

Call it years of godly military practice coming into play or whatever but the Amazon’s were a strategic power house. They blew through everything they wanted to as if it was parchment paper in a way that the Atlanteans and their ‘throw everything at it until it sticks’ strategy could never.

The Queen didn’t take whatever she wanted, the rumored start of the war in the first place, because she was careless.

“Pilgrim to Mayflower, we’ve been caught in an ambush—”

Your radio crackles to life on your hip. You turn to your team leader but she only shakes her head. She gestures for you all to get closer together. She’s following protocol, if you have to leave team ‘Pilgrim’ behind you have to wait in silence five minutes before doing so, but if you get a response in that period you have to call in for backup.

Beside you Lois’s quiet as she stares at the radio in Boston’s hand, lip between her teeth.

The following crackle three and a half minutes in makes you all jump.

“—it’s The Queen. The Queen’s with them!”

This time it’s not Steve’s voice but a woman from his group. The air rushes from your lungs.

Queen Diana of Themyscira wasn’t careless.

Something presses down on the receiver and the sounds of screaming and gunfire reach your ears. Right behind it cheers of triumph follow.

All distinctly feminine sounding.

The Queen took what she wanted without hesitation because she was self assured in her prowess.

“Dammit to hell,” Boston curses.

Your heart feels tight all of a sudden.

The Queen.

The same one who started a whole world war because she didn’t bow down to such pitiful quirks as apologizing. The Queen who allegedly wore the crown of the woman she killed as a trophy.

When that exact crown, Atlantean in nature, crests over a row of rubble from toppled buildings towards you the sight of that golden headrest becomes an omen.

The Amazon’s are ruthless when they reach you. There’s barely a triumphant yell afterwards the fight was so close to already won once it started. In fact it’d probably be an insult to the Goddess Artemis herself to call it a fight at all.

A mild squabble maybe.

Like a kitten might give a gangly boy throwing her into a box to slowly meet its death. Or the inevitable but hopeless life of a fly when around a flytrap.

The Amazon’s had gained on you too fast for women who were supposed to be on the other side of the island right now.

As you’re thrown into the middle of a circle of stern-faced Amazon’s with your team, knocking right into Steve and his remaining crew, you start to feel a lot like a fly trapped because of its need to further inspect a predator so unequivocally greater than itself.

Your eyes prickle and your breath squeezes past your throat, but as you watch the towering few women around you your heart thuds not with fear but revelation.

In person the Amazon’s were every bit as terrifying as the stories and mission reports made them out to be, then some. Their armor was chinked and dusted with the brutal effects of war and yet they still seemed to glow brighter than the overcast sun as they set their ire upon you.

It was a lesson in skill to be present for the way they fought up close. Every strike and simple step was so clearly packed full with power and yet they moved as one graceful unit, where one woman leaned right two more would work to balance back out the open circle till closed again like feathers in the wind.

They were seamless even as they taunted Steve, held in The Queen’s lasso as he was. The center of everyone’s attention.

Something shamefully akin to envy prods at you incessantly. You do your best to ignore it.

Your fists clench and unclench at your side as you watch the warriors playing with their food. Lois looks like she can’t decide whether to throw up or throw something. For the sake of all your lives you pray she only vomits.

“You’re all Americans,” Queen Diana points out before tightening her hold on the lasso. Steve is forced to rise up on his knees at the movement, hands going to his throat in a fruitless effort to pry off the rope choking him. “But you’re going to tell me a little more about yourself. Who are you and what is your group’s goal?”

For a few seconds you all watch as Steve just…doesn’t answer. Your eyes narrow. Maybe the rumors about The Queen’s lasso were actually just rumors this time around, you’re pretty sure a gift from the gods isn’t supposed to have user defects.

The other Amazon’s seem to think the same thing as five of them huddle closer to their leader and soft murmurs travel around you from the ones that remain vigil.

“He’s resisting the lasso of truth! How is that possible Queen Diana?”

The Queen looks offended, jaw tightening.

“It’s not,” she says before wrapping more of the lasso around her hand and pulling Steve up so they’re face to face, his toes dragging in the dirt. “Who are you and what are you and your people doing in New Themyscira?”

You all gasp. Off to the side Boston starts to struggle, cursing up a storm as Steve truly goes red in the face. You can’t not watch her a bit impassioned, you know what’ll happen next. One Amazon, red haired and incredibly angry looking, kicks her in the face so hard that by the time her body falls to the dirt you can all tell she’s dead. Face crunched to all hell as her lifeless body faces you.

You shiver and look away.

“This is an outrage,” Lois murmurs.

You don’t argue in any direction with her, just turn back to The Queen.

“Thank you for shutting her up, Artemis. Now back to you, I believe I asked you a question.”

Steve can barely put up a token protest, still actively choking, before he starts to spill everything.

“My name is Colonel Steve Trevor of the United States Special Forces. Me and my team, the second of which was headed by the woman you just killed, Colonel Boston Knight, were tasked with gathering information about your base and with the retrieval of Lois Lane.”

The Queen’s brows furrow, “Who is this Lois Lane?”

You close your eyes. You can feel the very woman stiffen where she’s crouched next to you. Your next breath in feels too much like a hiccup.

“Lois Lane is a Politzer prize winning journalist who has been embedded in New Themyscira to gather intel on your Amazons for Cyborg. She’s…she’s also one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met.”

Steve struggles, doing his best to clamp down on his jaw before some invisible force pries it back open and one of his trembling hands flick out to point. “And she’s over there.”

All eyes seem to shift to the woman no less than a foot away from you.

The Queen looks over at her with a haughty air as she takes in the new information.

“‘Most beautiful’ until me, that is,” she states while lowering him.

You're mesmerized as the glow of the lasso fades while she dismisses you all once again. The Queen’s attention quickly shifts to a blonde Amazon who nods and begins speaking immediately.

“Our information was correct, then, My Queen. Cyborg is amassing the outside world’s superhumans in an attempt to interfere in our war.”

“And he will fail,” her voice echoes across their foggy battlefield with surety. Wonder Woman scowls. “Now seize the Lane woman and take her back to our sanctum.”

“Yes, My Queen,” the blonde speaks up again as all the others quickly nod their assent.

Lois puts up a huge struggle, kicking out at a woman and briefly causing her to stumble before three more are on her. It takes a couple seconds before she stops, limbs twisted every which way as she’s held before the Queen’s unforgiving gaze.

She looks distinctly unimpressed as she and Lois stare down one another. The reporter definitely lived up to her reputation at least. Unfortunately so did Queen Diana.

“Go. I will deal with her later.”

They take Lois away and all you can do is watch.

The Queen glances over all of you again as the blonde waves the women off and then turns to Queen Diana with a wave in Steve’s direction.

“May I deal with this prisoner for you?”

She takes barely a second to decide.

“No, Persephone. The Queen of the Amazons is a servant to her people,” she rises then, taking Steve up with her and letting him dangle from the ropes. His gagging makes you curl in on yourself, “nothing is beneath her,” Queen Diana finishes as Steve takes his final struggling breaths.

The blood vessels on his face pop at the relentless pressure put on them as The Queen stares on impassively. The remaining Amazons cheer and the woman seems to bask in their praise.

“You must remember that this is a win for all of us!” Her exclamation is met with more cheers as she dangles Steve’s lifeless body through the air like a marionette.

“May the gods continue to look down favorably upon the daughters of Themyscira!” That cheer, from a dark skinned Amazon with snowy white hair, gets even Queen Diana calling out in excitement.

Their voices thunder around you all and in all your years both as black and as a woman you have never been made to feel so small as you do till now.

Like this, however, that feeling of absolute insignificance was damningly heady.

In the very next moment The Queen’s sharp gaze seems to snap to you and the skant air you’ve managed to gain seems to flee from your lungs in terror.

“Exactly sisters! And for that the fates of the spoils of our hunt today shall be decided by you!” She bows in mid air. “A gift from your ever faithful Queen.”

Seems the celebration won’t be stopping anytime soon then. You glance around at your teammates and see matching fear welling in their eyes.

Some of the people the Amazons choose are killed instantly and with gusto, others tossed between two of them like nothing as they’re tortured, some are even dragged away for who knows what, but you?

You’re left untouched.

Shaking you watch as everyone is picked off one by one around you and how in the rush The Queen's gaze still manages to stay locked on your form.

You’re watching her back with wide, nearly star struck eyes when she finally starts towards you. Your blood goes cold as she descends, carelessly dropping Steve in the process, before that damned lasso gets thrown around your body.

“Now you see that is a face of admiration!” She hoists you up into the air and your stomach drops. “Now tell me your truth, little human.”

“You’re…ethereal,” comes tumbling past your lips before you can hope to stop it.

The woman looks back at you in mild surprise before her laughter fills your ears.

“Of course I am.” She shifts you in her grip while motioning for the Amazons to move, hovering with you above them as they march back to their sanctuary.

You wonder if its location was one of the things Lois was going to share with you.

You were willing to bet it was too late to find out now.

─────

When you get back to the Queen’s new castle you feel like where they were hiding when they weren’t fighting should’ve been pretty obvious.

It was literally the former royal palace.

You walk in and can tell instantly that while some form of a fight must have occurred within the walls, the palace itself looked in otherwise perfect shape.

While most of the other Amazons that came with you disperse, some stay to debrief the Queen as she takes you along to the throne room.

At the entrance you’re met with a set of Amazons. Swiftly, they bow to their leader before opening the doors for her.

As you get a look inside your brows raise.

The throne that sits at the end of the velvet walkway is singular, first of all, and a lot bigger and more ornate than anything the British could’ve ever scrounged up. It makes even you impressed.

Queen Diana sits in it with all the air of a woman who knows without a moment of uncertainty that little can harm her.

In the following seconds she moves you to join her too, and you flush hard enough for a slight red hue to tint the deep brown of your cheeks.

The binding along your arms and midsection is so strong that you don’t even bother attempting to wiggle loose as you’re made to sit on the Amazon’s lap.

She’s completely self assured as she discusses her next steps with her council, and it makes you feel hopeless the way they blow off the US’s push back efforts as nothing. Easily solvable.

And all while you’re sitting on her lap like a trophy.

Eventually she dismisses everyone but the guards at the door and you're as alone as you’ll get.

You swallow thickly, glancing up at her through your lashes.

It’s a last ditch attempt but you try it anyway.

“If you kill me it’ll be all the US needs to join the war and deploy their forces.”

She looks down at you with a subtle raise of a brow.

“It’s adorable that you think you can scare me,” The Queen says. “Your government is so pathetic they jump at their own shadow. What threat could they ever possibly be to me when they can barely handle the problems within their own borders?”

She laughs, a boisterous sound that you feel just as much as you hear, and you’re unintentionally shaken in her hold. You knew it was a long shot but damn. She didn’t just shoot your idea down, she busted a fucking gut at it. You pout.

Yeah, you were screwed.

The Queen looked fucking unreal when she laughed though; you were a little winded.

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!! I love dark!WW, and she was too good looking in the Flash Point animation style; fourteen year old me literally couldn’t handle it.

Also— boy, has this one been in the works for a hot ass minute, but at least now it’s finally out.

In general, though, I’m trying to get out fics with more of The Trinity as a focus that aren’t just Batman fics. So yeah.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!

[mojomcm-fandom]

Edit: Now that it's not late at night and I have my laptop out, I'm editing this so it sounds less like the ramblings of a madwoman (tho there's a limited amount I can do seeing as it is, in fact, the ramblings of a madwoman lol). Also formatting and clarity and any additional theories/headcanons/whatever I think of while editing this.

Partly crack, partly copium, but I've got some theories/crossover/au thing going on that I wanted to write down so here goes:

Crack/Copium/Theories:

All 3 of the trailblazer kids are actually "dead" aeons.

Stelle/Caelus: Akivili (Herta makes us LARP as Akivili in Hertian Realm and we're known as the Trailblazer while Akivili is known as the Trailblaze so idk I know the player character looks like Nanook but they ain't dead soooo...)

Dan Heng: Long (maybe the High Elder Vidyadhara is actually Long's own reincarnation but they have no idea bc memory wipe. TBH makes no sense for the Permanence to be dead)

March 7th: Idrila (this one's a bit of a stretch so bear with me. The Aeon of Beauty could be HoHe Elysia expy and March is also kinda Elysia expy so ??? And March was froze in ice without memory so it's totally possible that's Idrila's mysterious disappearance)

Also:

Sampo is Aha. He gives strong vibes of being a Masked Fool in canon, but I think it'd be funny if he's actually the Elation.

Pom-pom was created by Akivili to protect the Express after Aha blew it up. Pom-pom is also a proficient marksman. This is bc of some canon evidence alluding to Pom-pom actually being really powerful (Yanqing and Welt both make mention of it iirc) and the engine of the train looking like a revolver. (Also headcanon that the Astral Express itself was made from one of Akivili's twin revolver pistols. Perhaps the other has the ability to summon the train?)

Lan has not and will not kill Yaoshi bc yin-yang/life and death balance and also bc what is a hunter without prey. The Hunt had no issue killing the Propagation, so this seems like the most reasonable reason why the Hunt has been after the Abundance so long without killing them.

On aeons and the relations between paths (I might end up making a relationship chart?):

Death Aeons: Nanook is unnatural death (think murder, natural disaster, etc.), while IX is natural entropic death (like degradation from aging), Lan is controlled, balanced death (think like hunters/predators keeping ecosystem in balance), and Oroboros is the death caused by one's own greed (think pollution, overconsumption). Terminus is the end of time and final death of the universe.

Life Aeons: Tayzzyronth is overabundant life (think how invasive species population boom bc outcompeting native species for resources), Yaoshi is overabundant continuation of life (think unnaturally prolonged life), and Long is eternity (without change or growth, entropy comes for all).

Mythus and Nous are polar opposites in path direction. Akivili is midway between the two (to trailblaze is to turn the unknown into the known).

Some paths are directly at odds with each other (opposite directions), some paths have overlap (too much overlap leads to one path consuming the other like with Ena and Xipe), and some paths are neutral (running perpendicular to the others). Mostly this matters in relation to pathstriders who walk multiple paths, as it is extremely unlikely to find, for example, someone simultaneously walking both the path of the Hunt and the Abundance.

Hooh's is the ultimate neutral path. Akivili's is also a fairly neutral path, though slight odds with Mythus's (to seek to make the unknown known doesn't really work with the idea nothing can be known) and maybe Aha (just bc Aha is a jerk and like Herta said, surely Akivili would've taken offense to Aha blowing up the Express). Idrila, Xipe, Fuli, Aha, and Qlipoth also have relatively neutral paths, though Qlipoth and Fuli are at odds with Nanook and Mythus. Xipe sometimes does not get along with Aha, if Aha is being particularly antagonistic.

Crossover/AU (Genshin):

Traveler and twin are Akivili (one soul two bodies, don't think too hard about it). Akivili is presumed dead by HSR universe bc Sustainer of Heavenly Principles imprisoned Akivili on Teyvat (a world at the fringes of the known universe/Yggdrasil/Irmunsul/Imaginary Tree). Claiming that they are siblings is far easier to explain than that they are two halves of the same god.

Zhongli/Morax is a high elder (do non-high elders have the ability to turn fully into dragons? are there any high elders who are not Dan Heng? idk) vidyadhara who arrived on Teyvat shortly before rebirth. Idk weird Teyvat magic or something made his rebirth cycle this time 10x longer than normal (should only be 600-700 years between rebirth and he's canonically 6000 years old). He is unaware of anything HSR related bc memory wipe from rebirth and nobody around to explain things.

The Imaginary Tree in HI3 and HSR and Irminsul in Genshin are the same tree (Yggdrasil), but some may only be branches of the other

So yeah, stay tuned to see HoYo prove my theories and headcanons wrong in the upcoming years.

[crueclown22]

Home Sweet Home

TW: decay, violence, slightly nsfw at the end? piss ig

a/n: first fic im ever posting! took quite a bit, stupidly long on one chapter (curse you perfectionism) but I’m slightly happy with it? also listened to the devil wears prada’s zombie album quite a bit while writing, so thank them for the violence. gotta get a bit better at writing it!

Nikki clenches his jaw, frustration flowing through every fiber of his being. He shoves his bass into its battered case, the zipper protesting as it strains against the frayed fabric. The night had been a goddamn disaster. The band stumbled over basic chords, the sound of only wrong notes blasting through the amps. And those damn bar fights.. to add insult to injury, the men fighting chose that this specific night, they would try and murder each other. Well, not exactly; however, one did have to get escorted to a hospital.The fight scattered what little audience they had left, the others leaving earlier in the set after hearing their barely mediocre band.

 Nikki's only thought now? Screw it all. He just wanted to grab a beer, crawl into bed, and forget this train wreck of a gig ever happened. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” A voice cuts in, interrupting Nikki’s racing thoughts. He couldn’t recognize the voice, the stress of the night making it hard for him to focus on anything.

“What’s my problem?” Nikki spits repeats, turning around to face the voice. He locks eyes with Henri, his bandmate. Henri seemed to have also sprinted offstage the moment they wrapped up their set—his trembling hands still clutching drumsticks, ripped open callous’s oozing maroon blood onto once-white bandages. The blood drips, staining the soft wood of the drumstick. He knew that Henri would bitch about it tomorrow, but he didn’t seem to care. His eyes just bore into him, expecting a quick answer.

When he doesn’t get it quick enough for his liking, Henri stepped closer, his nostrils flaring. “Are you genuinely that dense, or do I need to spell it out for you?”

“Fuck you.” Nikki spits out, his fingers moving to fumble with the adjuster on his guitar strap. The cheap plastic gives way, leaving jagged edges under his nails. He promises himself to use the gig money to buy a better case—no more chipped corners.

“You bolted!” Henri’s voice cracks, drumsticks being abandoned on the floor as he throws them down.

“Because you guys butchered the entire set!” Nikki fires back, dropping the case. It lands with a satisfying thud, making Henri wince. “Half the time, I didn’t even recognize the song!” 

Henri’s shoulders tense at the words, his fingernails sinking deeper into his drumsticks. 

“Why can’t you assholes seem to admit that the new dudes suck?” Nikki hisses, watching a bit of dried blood crumble from his fingers. 

“Dude, you haven’t even given them a chance!” Henri yell back, throwing his hands up.

“Because every time I hear them play, it’s, ‘Oh, shit, I messed up,’ or ‘Can we start over?’” Nikki explains with clenched teeth, the words coming out in thinly veiled anger.

“Maybe if they did something that was worth paying attention to, I would.” Nikki spits out, snatching his case from the ground. 

As he glances at the case, he realizes it's probably scuffed from the fall. The damn case, made of cheap fabric, does more harm than good. It's like wrapping an instrument in sandpaper. He turns around, ready to leave— to escape this dingy bar that reeks of cigarette smoke. The stench would cling to his clothes, he knew it. He shudders, imagining the next day or two, hunched over the sink, trying to scrub away the lingering smell..

A brutal blow to the back of his skull snapped him back to reality, the coldness of the floor pressed against his cheek. He felt the weight of another body—Henri—clambering onto his back. The world seemed to tilt, and Nikki's legs turned to lead as a punch numbed his spine. Panic spiked; he twisted, but Henri's grip was unnaturally tight.

Out of desperation, Nikki swings his arm back, trying to hit anything he could. Nikki's elbow finally found a tender spot on Henri's knee—a bruise from a past gig. Pain loosens Henri's hold, and Nikki takes the chance. He swung his elbow back, connecting with Henri's rib. The gap widened, and Nikki twists, Henri sliding off him, collapsing to the floor.

A mix of adrenaline and anger fills Nikki's veins. He wanted to turn, to unleash hell upon the bastard, but the searing pain from the first hit pulsed through his skull, drowning any irrational thought he might have had. Nikki had always fought, enjoyed it even. But while he’d loved to turn back, beat Henri’s ass, the tender spot on his head would just give Henri an upper hand, the fight only leading to a head injury. He really didn’t have the money for that..

He somehow finds strength to drag himself over to the metal door out of the bar, his knees threatening to buckle under him. Despite the ringing in his ears becoming louder, Nikki could hear footsteps behind him. They sounded distant, but he knew Henri was right there, evident from the pull on the back of his shirt.

The metal door swung open, and cool night air rushed over Nikki. If a horrible smell didn’t make him recoil, one that smelled like an actively decaying body, the cool air would have felt nice.

Henri pulls him back, and he could feel his fingers rip into the thin fabric of his shirt. He swings back, his elbow meeting Henri’s jaw. The hit knocked his bandmate back, Henri stumbling into a wall. It was obvious that it had hurt by the way Henri’s knees buckled under him. He still managed to lunge at him and Nikki dodged it. It’d caused him to skid into the rough pavement, the sound making Nikki wince. He takes a few deep breaths, trying to get the air back into his lungs. It doesn’t help, however, the revolting scent making him gag slightly as it seems to get stronger by the minute.

“What the fuck is wrong with-“ Nikki manages to hiss, finally finding his voice. It’d felt like it’d been knocked out of him when he’d gotten knocked to the ground.

His heart drops just before Henri lets out a bloodcurdling scream, the sound making Nikki jump back. He turns, seeing..something. 

It didn’t look human. It couldn’t have been. As suddenly as it came into the scene, it starts to dig its inhumanly long fingers into Henri’s stomach. The skin of Henri’s stomach ripped apart under the fingers like paper, blood rushing out of the opened wound. He didn’t get a good look of the creature before it dived its head down, starting to bring the chunks of flesh torn off into its mouth.

It wasn’t the sight that made Nikki finally choose to run; it was the screams of pure agony from Henri as this…this creature tore him apart.

Nikki's heart raced, threatening to burst out of his chest. The sirens in the distance wailed like banshees, urging him to flee. His now clammy hands clutched the heavy case, wanting to just drop it, to leave it. He’d worked too hard to get the damn bass; what felt like eternity of working in shit hole jobs to gather the money wasn’t about to be a waste of time.

The brisk air stung his eyes, blurring the world as he sprinted, legs pumping, away from the danger. The pavement blurred beneath his sneakers, and he wondered if he'd ever catch his breath. Was it just panic or reality that made the sirens seem louder, more urgent?

Finally, Nikki stopped, his chest heaving as he tried to get his breathing steady. The cold air only shocked his lungs. He rubbed his eyes, desperate to erase the burn. The world swam back into focus, and he sees the decaying creatures in the distance. Their hollow eyes weren’t fixed on him, but hunger was etched into their rotting faces. It clicked: hide. It wouldn’t be long until they would turn their attention on him.

Just then, a jarring beep pierced the air. A cop car sped past, narrowly missing Nikki. His heart leaped into his throat. He dove back onto the sidewalk, snapping his head around to try and find something that would suffice as a safe spot, even if his time in it would be short.

His gaze landed on a nearby park, and he sprinted toward it. He looks around, sighing in relief as he sees the small brick building of a public bathroom. While normally he wouldn’t touch the shit with a ten foot pole, the bathroom stood like a sanctuary in the moment—a flimsy refuge. Nikki dropped his case once he gets to the entrance, yanking out his bass and holding it upside down by the neck. Not the most dignified weapon, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

With a swift kick, he forced open the bathroom door. His breath hitched as he scanned the dim interior. Nothing. Relief washed over him, and he released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Stepping inside, he jerked his body to check behind the door—clear. He moved further, glancing into each stall—still clear.

Nikki spun, the door slamming shut behind him. He pressed his back against the cool tiles, eyes squeezed shut. His body relaxed for a moment before noticing something; almost like a cruel joke, nature called.

His bladder, a fucking traitor, demanded attention. The bathroom was his almost safe room— ironic, really. He rested the bass against the wall, its strings making a soft deep tone as he accidentally runs his finger over them. Nikki's fingers fumbled with his belt, frustration mounting. Why now? 

Finally, the belt clicked open, and his pants slid down. He breathes out in relief as he feels his bladder finally empty. 

As he’s distracted with the relief, in the dimness, he missed the garbled groan from the room's shadowed corner. Unseen, unheard, it shuffled closer, nails scraping the concrete floor. He didn’t even seem to hear the click of the bathroom door, light footsteps coming in.

A grip, cold and desperate, suddenly clamped onto his leg. Nails dug into his flesh, threatening to pierce the fragile skin.

Fuck.

[imglowinginthedarkness]

revamped some of my old mlp ocs !! lil bios and whatnot under the cut (o´〰`o)♡*✲ﾟ*。

Valentine

agender! they/it

their friends call them Vee!

their talent is writing those really cheesy and dumb valentines day cards that come in packs of like 24 at michaels. at least, that’s what they tell anyone who asks

a cutie pie, knows it, and often uses their looks to get what they want

their dad is a changeling and their mom is a pony. their birth was unnatural and 70% magic

bit sketchy ngl. lil bit of a bitch. talks behind people’s backs

loves their gf Cheshire and though they tease her a lot, if anyone else says anything even kind of mean to or about her Vee will literally kill them

Cheshire

Vee’s anxious bat pony girlfriend

lives in the woods

cries when she walks into table corners

her talent is talking to rodents? she can’t talk to any other animal but rats and mice love her

kind of a dumbass but tries her best. just has no braincells

can and will dissolve into tears at any second

usually found with a multitude of scratches from various encounters with unfriendly creatures in the Everfree Forest

nonbinary! she/her

Rag Doll

everyone calls them Doll

their talent is making crochet stuffed animals

an absolute sweetheart and is, like, a suspiciously good person. they probably murdered someone in a past life

has a very gentle kind voice and lovely doe eyes

demi gal! they/she

nonbinary lesbian :)

the kind of person everyone falls at least a little bit in love with

adopted kid of Twilight Sparkle and Sunset Shimmer

Rainstorm

her friends call her Rain, her family calls her Rainstorm

mute, uses pegasus sign language to talk

gf of Sterling and basically the only pony Sterling actually gives a shit about

her talent is aerial dancing

has a twin brother called Typhoon who isn’t around much but Rain still loves him

quiet and thoughtful. very introspective and usually keeps to herself, though she’s not antisocial

is bi! used to go out with a guy from the dance studio she attends

Sterling

defensive and closed off, doesn’t like being vulnerable

gf of Rain and would literally die for her, since she’s pretty much the only person who genuinely seems to enjoy Sterling’s company

her talent is jewelry making

has had a multitude of admirers but has scared off literally every potential romantic partner (except for Rain, of course)

disaster lesbian

has been in love with Rain since they were foals

volunteers at Cheerilee’s school even though she claims she doesn’t like kids 

Hazelnut Spread

goes by Hazel or Hazelnut

honestly a bit stuck up but really does mean well

more loyal to her family than anything else

claims she doesn’t like Doll because they’re “too nice”. actually secretly has a huge dumb crush on them and hates the fact that they make her feel all warm and fuzzy inside

her talent is making those super fancy crepes that look amazing but are really impractical to eat

her mom is Pinkie Pie, her bio dad is Pokey Pierce

trans-femme!

Marzipan Mascarpone Meringue Madness

has like a hundred nicknames cause their name is a fucking mouthful. mainly goes by Marzi but is also called Mads by their family

SO loud like jesus christ bitch please fucking chill

its talent is making rock candy that doubles as hallucinogens

has ADHD and physically cannot sit still

the “rebel child” but in name only. she loves her family and they approve of everything she does (except Hazel but, you know)

pangender! they/she/he/it/xe/fae/whatever else, marzi’s not picky

xer mom is Pinkie Pie, xer bio dad is Cheese Sandwich

does a lot of ecstasy and shrooms

Chestnut

her talent is making really wonderful coffee. like it’s not fancy or anything, it’s just normal coffee, but it’s the best and most comforting you’ll ever taste

trans-femme!

very warmhearted and welcoming. has a knack for making others feel safe around her

everyone calls her by her full name, but Jagged Note calls her ‘Chex’ sometimes

constantly stressed out, deals with a lot of anxiety though she manages to hide it well. more or less. sorta

Jagged Note

Chestnut’s loving bf

known to everyone as Jay

his talent is making hyper pop scream-o music

trans-masc! he and chestnut are T4T :)

very chill and laidback, thus is the one to calm chestnut down when she gets overwhelmed 

claims to be punk and badass even though he cries at that one chef boyardee commercial 

[fionajames]

HI FIO i had 2 ideas id love if you wrote :] only if you wamt to ofc ahahah

1. Sith Obi-Wan au!!! This can be all evil disaster lineage au, Obi-Wan joins Vader or anything you please i trust you to write something amazing :)

The second is kind of just a vague idea i had, i was wondering how youd imagine a circus au?? Cause the jedi are all acrobatic n stuff. Go wild!

HII KEBIIN

So, first up I have written the Sith idea - with a lil twist - and I will write the acrobatics stuff soon/later.

This is my second piece of four to get published today so hang in for more!!!!!!!!!!!!

Enjoy!

Something Obi-Wan learned early on was that pain was always going to hit him when he least expected it. The first time he felt real, true pain was Qui-Gon’s death.

As he watched from behind the red screen at his Master and the Sith battling, Obi-Wan’s hand gripping his lightsaber tightened, alongside the bad feeling in his stomach. It was knot in his stomach, and growing excruciatingly painful as time went on.

That was when the Sith twisted and his lightsaber went straight through Qui-Gon’s gut, leaving a similar hole in Obi-Wan. He didn’t even remember screaming, just the rage that took over him. A blind, red hot rage that fueled him as he waited impatiently with gritted teeth for the barrier between him and the murderer to move.

There was no time to waste as he sprung at the Sith, his movements unlike himself as he executed each one, gaining on the monster he was battling. At some point during the fight, the Sith’s burning yellow eyes widened in mystified horror as he watched Obi-Wan’s blue eyes unnaturally swim with flickering yellow.

At some point during the fight, the monster Obi-Wan was battling became himself, as he drove himself beyond his breaking point and into the abyss, pushing on all of his boundaries as his rage sliced and slashed at the Sith. 

When he was pushed over, Obi-Wan’s hand barely managed to grasp onto the wall, his red hot rage twisted with desperation as sparks licked at his skin. 

The Force responded to him in such an unnatural way at that moment. It intertwined with him without him having to call it, and begged him to do as it willed instead of the other way around. Obi-Wan let the Force control him for a moment as he threw himself up and grasped the lightsaber, slicing through the Sith without a second’s thought. He watched the red and black torso fall down the reactor shaft in two separate pieces, panting as the yellow in his eyes recoiled and the blue returned. 

Obi-Wan - bent over Qui-Gon’s lifeless body - had never felt so much rage before, if had ever felt rage. It was unfathomable and intoxicating, the taste of power he’d had in that moment was like a drug. He’d let the dark side take over him - something he’d sworn to never let happen - and had killed - a villain but a man nonetheless. 

The next time he let it engulf him was during the First Battle of Geonosis. Afterwards, he remembered very little from the fight, just the darkside that had consumed him.

Obi-Wan had swung his lightsaber so calculatedly that all his fellow Jedi had seen only grace in it, and nothing of the dark behind each slice. He’d cut down numerous droids and a living creature - one trying to kill him but a living creature nonetheless - without thinking, fueled only by the anger that consumed him every time he saw another Jedi’s body fall and hit the unforgiving ground of the desert.

Anakin had never seen his Master so enraged and aggravated as he watched through a pain filled gaze as Obi-Wan battled Dooku. Through the pain Anakin had not seen the yellow in Obi-Wan’s eyes, the blue long gone. 

Dooku - however - had seen it, yet felt that it was not a yellow he would ever stand beside. 

As Obi-Wan fought and fought, his anger from seeing his Padawan injured was like Qui-Gon’s death all over again, and he was emotionlessly fighting with all of his strength.

When the fight was over, the yellow had dispersed again and left all witnesses bemused and bewildered, thinking they must have hallucinated the pure anger. 

The next time Obi-Wan cracked was a battle early on during the War, when he’d lost dozens and dozens - maybe even hundreds - of troopers.

Cody watched in horror as his General emerged from the trench beside him and leapt into the battle, slicing down every battle droid near him. He saw the burning rage the colour of orange-yellow in his General’s eyes and instantly missed the calm blue sea he was so familiar with.

This side of his General was cold and passionate, fierce and determined. He turned the tides of the battle so fast many Clone troopers didn’t understand what was going on. Cody rushed to his side - in an attempt to check on Obi-Wan - only to flinch back at the yellow glare at the droids and the snarl he was met with - although not directed at him. 

The cruel yellow was something Cody grew used to, and he began to slowly and increasingly hate the colour. The only thing it brought him was fear and worry, and it didn’t help that it was the battalion’s colour. 

Cody expected Obi-Wan’s eyes to be cold like you would expect, but instead, they were a burning hot fire. They held such heat they burnt anyone who came near, and there was only so much one could do for burns like these - more emotional and mental than physical. 

It quickly became clear to everyone - including the Jedi and their council - that Obi-Wan had been consumed by the dark side, but he was no Sith. He was still loyal - as he always had been and always would be - to the Jedi, but now, he had new abilities, new strengths. 

He was a dark-side-user amongst light-side-users, a blazing fire in a sea of cool calm.

But he was no Sith.

Hope you enjoyed! Request pls!!!!!!!!!!!

[mistystarshine]

The Waffle House Disaster Index - Four

She doesn’t know what happens if you don’t. But the words are flowing now, and with the gleaming yellow of those unnatural eyes piercing into her very soul, she can’t bring herself to stop them. “These are humans who went to Hell, though, not Heaven?”

“So?” Adam scoffs. “They’re dead either way.”

There’s something there, a point he isn’t saying, a truth that he’s turned a blind eye to at some point.

It’s not on her to point it out to him. Her job is to serve mediocre waffles, strain her pathetic noodle arms throwing fist-fighting customers when they get too violently obnoxious, as per company policy, and on one very special day of the year, say stupid shit to the most dangerous being in all of Hell.

And then die, probably.

Maybe.

With Adam’s gaze boring into her, demanding a response, she finally allows herself to acknowledge the thing that she’s been trying so hard to avoid.

She hopes not.

“But they went to Hell,” she repeats. “Maybe their blood is red to remind them that they can’t do better.”

Tabitha cannot hope to read the subtle shift of Adam’s expression. She can’t help but hope that she hasn’t doomed herself to having her spine ripped out through her asshole or some other murder-angel specialty when he grins and says, “Alright then, bitch. You wanna talk? Make me a fucking waffle and let’s talk.”

[duckprintspress]

Meet Aether Beyond the Binary Contributor Nicola Kapron

Today’s author spotlight for Aether Beyond the Binary (the aetherpunk anthology starring outside-the-binary characters that we’re currently crowdfunding!) focuses on Nicola Kapron, one of the most prolific authors working with Duck Prints Press. She’s written numerous short stories and a novelette published on our website, but this is her first anthology contribution with us. And – she’s also the crafter of adorable dux plushies we’re selling as add-ons!

Better yet – we’ll be hosting an Ask Me Anything session with Nicola Kapron on Discord! Want to come hang out with Nicola, Nina Waters (ABTB lead editor), and other DPP authors, editors, and fans? Join us on January 6th, 2024 at 3 p.m. Eastern (time zone converter) and bring your questions!

About Nicola Kapron: Nicola Kapron has previously been published by Neo-opsis Science Fiction Magazine,  Rebel Mountain Press, Soteira Press, All Worlds Wayfarer, Mannison  Press, and more. Nicola lives in British Columbia with a hoard of  books—mostly fantasy and horror—and an extremely fluffy cat. Link: Personal Website

Read an interview with Nicola Kapron.

Stories Nicola Kapron has Published with Duck Prints Press: 

 The Act of Salvation (science fantasy, m/m, second person pov)

 Be Not Afraid (modern fantasy, m/m, omg they were roommates, the apocalypse happened and life didn’t actually change that much) (included in the contributor short stories add-on!) 

 Campfire Stories (modern horror, no ship, trading campfire monster stories)

 Dead Man’s Bells(fantasy, m/nb, dark romance, demonic possession)

 In Good Company (modern horror, m/m, enemies to accomplices)

 More Than We Deserve (dystopian sci-fi, m/m, friends to lovers) (included in the contributor short stories add-on!) 

 The Ocean Went on Forever (sci-fi, m/m if you squint, very hard to summarize – see “challenge: easy-to-tag works)

Nicola’s Aether Beyond The Binary Contribution:

Title: How Your Garden Grows

Tags: alternate history, attempted murder, character injury (serious), elemental (nature), environmentalism, genderfluid, natural disaster (unnatural), non-binary, non-human character, past tense, post-apocalypse, science fiction with magic, scientist, siblings, third person limited point of view

Excerpt:

The dive chamber was dark. The only light filtered upward from the moon window set into the floor. Large and circular, it served as the portal through which ze would exit and, hopefully, return. A transparent barrier of purple-tinged glass sat between Stone and the outside. The Nightmare Sea spread out below zir.

“Copy,” Leigh said. “Three…”

The color of the glass made the ocean of trees below look blue. Even with that tint, the swirls of cloud that clung to the spiralling shapes shimmered through every colour Stone knew and several ze didn’t.

“Two…”

Wind currents batted at the treetops. Most of them splashed off like water on the shore, faint trails in the sky the only evidence they’d even tried.

“One…”

Stone breathed in deeply, then let the air hiss out between zir teeth. Zir fingers flexed inside the heavy gloves. Far below, something in the shining sea reflected like metal instead of like heat shimmer or phantasmal crystal. It was near zir planned diving path.

“Diving.”

Learn more about the anthology and our other contributors by visiting our page on Kickstarter!

[o-craven-canto]

Tablets found on the bottom of the Tyrrhenian Sea, east of Sardinia

Deep-dwelling Herdmother, unnumbered ancestors, forgive me!

Forgive me? What forgiveness? What do I need forgiveness for? I did nothing, I have no blame – strike me blind and foot-deaf if I lie – it was they, it was the apes, confound them, it was they who ruined the world! See them squirming and clambering over each other, hear them jabbering and chittering as if they've done good. And yet I gave them help. Gods of the Valley, I did! Wither my trunk, Herdmother, bind my ankles and tear out my tongue. Reach back in time, I beg you, I beg you, I beg you, and stop my idiot self from bringing about this disaster.

I feel myself suffocate – if only I'd suffocated first – if only I'd slipped into a ravine during the ascent – if only my mother, curse her bones, had purged me from her womb – I will cast myself down, I've seen the apes suffer long after a fall, but my body is heavier, and will burst on the crests before I can feel it. Here, I've drunk a soothing tisane, and will be calm enough to write.

Oh, Gods, this noise!

I am sound of mind and able of trunk, even in this unnatural air; what I plan to do will be my only sensible action in a long time. Who knows whether death will buy me a place in the cool, peaceful mud-fields below, and spare me from universal revenge? Who knows? There never was a crime as great at this, before today. I'll write this in clay, and leave it in a crevice, high enough to be spared by the end of the world. Perhaps some imbecile or scoundrel, cast out of the good lands, will read it. How fitting that imbeciles and scoundrels will be all that is left, although not me, the greatest imbecile and scoundrel of all.

I hated you then, Gods of the Valley, as I walked under your idols of glowing rocksalt, for making me restless and unhappy, and for making this world ugly and cruel. And I hate you now, for not falling from your pillars and shattering my skull when you could. The servant apes scrambled about with their baskets and amphors, some bruised and limping, some painted and perfumed. How little thought I paid them, once; they did not reach my knee, and they would take enough care of avoiding my footfalls.

I have wandered from city to city, as my father must have done in the arousal of the musth before he visited the household of my mother and aunts. What a sight was he, my mother would sigh, gleaming with copper and selenite won from so many rivals, and his tusks filed to murderous sharpness. But the musth was not for me; I briefly saw it in my brothers before they went their own way, while I should have stayed with my sisters and cousins, with the ape-swarm of our palace turning about us. We would see the sky only to visit the idols and bring them gifts of oil and crocodile skins.

The servant beasts would feed me argan branches and glasswort, peel the waste off my footpads, and rub me pleasantly with perfumed oils. I hated it, and hated them, and wished my tusks were filed and the nectar of rage pouring from my temples. Yet so sweet was their touch and so full their subjection – even when once I withdrew food until they had done bloody and unnatural things – that I found my contempt mixed with love. Their cries aroused more sympathy in me than the bellows of my sisters, who often beat clumsy apes. How could I take pleasure in them in the house that made us prisoners, with so callous a company?

***

One night I slipped under an archway and out of my natal palace, carrying as many servants as I could, scurrying around me or riding on my back. I started wandering all around the Valley, along dusty roads and canals lined with the idols of carved rocksalt. I sheltered from the sun behind towers and pyramids of limestone and saw the hazy, cloud-grazing cliffs that mark all the edges of the Valley. I would shelter with my apes in boneyards at night; I purchased them milk from discreet wetnurses, and gave them meat when a wild hippopotamus would stray into a city. How I suffered for them! I loved them, and they never loved me, cleaning me only when forced, and gulping down their bloody meals without caring if I could see.

Everywhere I saw monstrosity. One of my apes was killed by two youths for amusement, and often I had to sell their services for odious tasks. One I had to kill myself as it tried to leave, to betray me for crueler masters; the others, perhaps understanding its wickedness, refused its meat, and forced me to look for other food. Many I saw discarded at the feet of construction sites, or heaped on carts leaving a theater after a mock battle. I stomped the ground in anger and cursed the Gods of the Valley, wishing the outer gods who dwell on the vast cliffs around to bring destruction on this gruesome world.

Outer gods, outer gods, of all the desperate pleas raised from the beginning of the world, was this the one you should answer?

One morning I awoke from painful dreams while we were in the far west of the Valley. From the construction sites we stole a hundred sacks of ape-fashioned tools. We set to climb the great slope where it was most accessible, where the great cloudbanks gathered. Pushing, bellowing, threatening I drove my apes on the scorched path, through the brambles and the gravel drifts.

It rains, sometimes, and the great salt lakes overflow and flood the fields and towns all around. If they all overflowed at once, what a chastisement it would be for my brutish kind! I knew that there is water high on the western highlands, that the ladies of old had built a wall to keep out its tides…

Perhaps a year after leaving the palace we were up high on the far western cliff. We could see the many ramparts of cut sandstone and limestone mingle with the natural walls, dark shrubs and vines clinging to their blocks. They had been built and reinforced again and again over the generations; but what takes centuries to rise, may take a moment to fall. Is not a moment enough to slay a person, who has grown two years in the womb, and fifty outside? Is it not enough to fell a secular tree? Destruction grows from seeds, as well as creation; the ancient walls had been neglected in this complacent, gluttonous age; a modest breach in the highest and thinnest section, that would suffice.

I set my servants to work. They were of a breed created for construction work, and could brandish well hammer and chisel. They would chip at the lichenous mortar; they cleverly opened cracks in the blocks burdened with more weight, and spread them open with metal wedges. A feverish excitement made my body shiver at each directive, but I had brought with me stores of a sweet tea to calm my nerves.

For months the apes labored. They worked hard, chattering in sounds too high for me to hear. They fed themselves, mostly, by killing birds and collecting pine nuts; I still carried jars of curdled milk and dried meat, which they accessed less and less. I would sit in the shade, chewing deliciously sour branches. I slept more peacefully than ever, knowing that my anger had been entrusted to quick hands, and would soon find its consummation. A million fools, too, slept and chewed and mounted each other in the Valley; and nobody came upon us, nobody cared about the wall standing between them and utter ruin.

Eventually I succumbed to curiosity. I wished to see for myself if the lake I was about to unleash was larger than any on the bottom of the Valley. My footpads caught a slow, peaceful rhythm in its bulk. I went alone above the highest ridge, where I could see the other side of the wall, those waters that had been many steps lower when the Valley was first peopled. I broke through the last barrier of juniper and maritime pines, where I could hear the waves breaking, and smell the salt that they flung in the air.

I did not know.

***

I did not know, I had thought only another lake stood here; but the expanse, Gods of the Valley, the expanse blue and flat and bare and endless, enough to fill the Valley a thousandfold. Swarming birds screeched overhead, insulting me. All that water, released at once, ah, it can't be imagined, it would wash away everything like sand from dirty feet, overturn the hardest ground like sods behind the plough, close over the tallest pyramids and charge the farthest eastern cliff…

And still the apes labored. I raced down, but in my bewilderment I tripped on the loose stones and tangled myself in the brambles. Too afraid to leave my distant vantage point, I shouted at them to come back. For hours perhaps; and they came back to me at last, but then I could already see the dirty white of racing water project from a breach in the wall.

I hit them in blind anger, the little creeping devils. I kicked and crushed them underfoot, I flung them into the ravine and against sharp rocks; but even as they bled and died they made this shrill, revolting, panting call, which I know is a call of triumph and mockery. The remainder scattered away in the thirsty scrub, to mingle with their wilder kin – I hear them now, grunting and hooting behind the bushes. I hear them – despite this noise!

It's too late. Nobody can arrest the waterfall now, and as it pours and screams through the gorge it will only grow. The seed of destruction – I see tree-covered ridges slide and vanish in the froth, I see the cliffsides melting like wax. My ledge is already loose. The mountains shudder.

You – you little vermin – you think you've done something good? Your own kin down in the Valley – the cubs you've sired and born – your little hive-mounds and mating-coves – you will have only beastly mockeries for companions – civilize them, I dare you! No one to feed you and shelter you, you've murdered yourself, you stupid wastes of water – I loved you so, damn you all –

Unnumbered ancestors, unnumbered descendants – no – no descendants – never – no more people, not ever, only brutes and speechless cretins, cast out – cities, fields, all gone – songs and books – canals and gardens – all joy and love and glory – no more, not ever, damned outer gods, why must I know, why must I see –

Herdmother, spare me from that noise – oh, poxes, the foot-sound is so much louder and faster than the ear-sound – if there is mercy it will creep up my footpads and shatter my bones – my ledge quakes – ah! The water! I see the water! It's grand – it's beyond description – a piece of sky, falling – a mountain of glass, rolling over – a monster, all claws and coils – its shadow swallows a city – its froth rises tall as the cliffs – I don't want to see – I don't want to see – but look, it's grand – let me see

[cluster-ayyy]

We're talking about the Fermi Paradox and you've glossed over some more sane theories like:

Rare Earth: Planets that support basic life may be common, but planets with a favorable enough climate, ecosystem, geology, orbit, planetary neighbors, celestial neighborhood, are incredibly rare to support complex, land based, intelligent life.

This is the camp I fall into because everything about Earth is just SO GOOD. The fact that you are reading this on an Earth-like planet, and not some backwater rocky planet with no large moon or around a red dwarf or in some globular cluster or in an elliptical galaxy, means to me that Earths are very rare. Highly evolved and specialized life may be too.

That could fall into the Fool in a Field hypothesis technically, life is out there but too far to have contact.

Natural causes: Intelligent life may be common but keeps being murdered in the cradle by natural disasters like meteors, flood basalt events, (natural) climate change, anything that could trigger a mass extinction. Humans are just lucky (for now).

Unnatural causes: Like the above, but intelligent life keeps destroying itself from war, climate change, ecosystem collapse, or mouse utopia-ing themselves to extinction. This is the Great Filter may not have passed yet.

Evolution doesn't favor general intelligence: This one I'd actually put with your three-blunts-into-rotation category because of how aggressively natural selection favors intelligence in other animals.

Aliens expand just enough to not go extinct: Goes with your Fool in a Field hypothesis. Sure the aliens colonized other planets, but don't go full Manifest Destiny on the galaxy, for one reason or another.

I low-key love the fact that sci-fi has so conditioned us to expect to be hanging out with a bunch of cool space aliens, that legitimate, actual scientists keep proposing the most bizarre, three-blunts-into-the-rotation "theories" to explain the fact we're not.

Some of my favourites include:

Zoo Theory: What if there are loads of aliens out there, but they're not talking to us because of the Prime Directive from Star Trek? (Or because they're doing experiments on us???)

Dark Forest Theory: What if there are loads of aliens out there, but they all hate us and each other so they're all just waiting with a shotgun pointed at the door, ready to open fire on anything that moves?

Planetarium Theory: What if there's at least one alien with mastery over light and matter that's just making it seem to us that the universe is empty to us as, like, a joke?

Berserker Theory: What if there were loads of aliens, but one of them made infinite killer robots that murdered everyone and are coming for us next?!!

Like, the universe is at least 13,700,000,000 years old and 46,000,000,000 light years big. We have had the ability to transmit and receive signals for, what, 100 years, and our signals have so far travelled 200 light years?

The fact is biological life almost certainly has, does, or will develop elsewhere in the universe, and it's not impossible that a tiny amount of it has, does, or will develop in a way that we would understand as "intelligent". But, like, we're realistically never going to know because of the scale of the things involved.

So I'm proposing my own hypothesis. I call it the "Fool in a Field" hypothesis. It goes like this:

Humanity is a guy standing in the middle of a field at midnight. It's pitch black, he can't move, and he's been standing there for ages. He's just had the thought to swing his arms. He swings one of his arms, once, and does not hit another person. "Oh no!" He says. "Robots have killed them all!"

[marie1-kersaint]

https://www.facebook.com/share/unbSPUWyaGE667uB/?mibextid=WC7FNe

SORRY 😢women started wearing pants 👖 during WWII at the factories 🏭 because we had to start 🛫 doing “men’s work”

From the movie 🍿 TO LIVE i understood that lower class women wore pants 👖.

The woman shall not wear that which pertaineth unto a man, neither shall a man put on a woman's garment: for all that do so [are] abomination unto the LORD thy God.

https://kjbo.org/Deuteronomy-22-5/

1 Corinthians 6:9 Or do you not know that the unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived; neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor effeminate, nor homosexuals, 10 nor thieves, nor the covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor swindlers, of God.

“Effeminate”= “Malakos”è “A person who allows themselves to be sexually abused contrary to nature” (Zodhiates) [It could refer to male prostitutes, or transvestite—"Drag Queens”]

“Homosexuals”= “Arsenokoitai”è “A man who lies in bed with another male” (Zodhiates) [Literally: “Man who beds with another Man”]

THE BIBLE ON HOMOSEXUALITY

(cf. Genesis 19 and the story of Sodom’s doom)

Leviticus 18:22 'You shall not lie with a male as one lies with a female; it is an abomination.

Leviticus 20:13 'If there is a man who lies with a male as those who lie with a woman, both of them have committed a detestable act; they shall surely be put to death. Their bloodguiltiness is upon them.

Deuteronomy 22:5 "A woman shall not wear man's clothing, nor shall a man put on a woman's clothing; for whoever does these things is an abomination to the LORD your God.

Deuteronomy 23:1 "No one who is emasculated or has his male organ cut off shall enter the assembly of the LORD.

Isaiah 3:9 The look on their faces testifies against them; they parade their sin like Sodom; they do not hide it. Woe to them! They have brought disaster upon themselves.

Romans 1:26 For this reason God gave them over to degrading passions; for their women exchanged the natural function for that which is unnatural,27 and in the same way also the men abandoned the natural function of the woman and burned in their desire toward one another, men with men committing indecent acts and receiving in their own persons the due penalty of their error.

28 And just as they did not see fit to acknowledge God any longer, God gave them over to a depraved mind, to do those things which are not proper, 29 being filled with all unrighteousness, wickedness, greed, evil; full of envy, murder, strife, deceit, malice; they are gossips, 30 slanderers, haters of God, insolent, arrogant, boastful, inventors of evil, disobedient to parents, 31 without understanding, untrustworthy, unloving, unmerciful; 32 and although they know the ordinance of God, that those who practice such things are worthy of death, they not only do the same, but also give hearty approval to those who practice them.

1 Timothy 1:8 But we know that the law is good if one uses it lawfully, 9 knowing this: that the law is not made for a righteous person, but for the lawless and insubordinate, for the ungodly and for sinners, for the unholy and profane, for murderers of fathers and murderers of mothers, for manslayers, 10 for fornicators, for sodomites, for kidnappers, for liars, for perjurers, and if there is any other thing that is contrary to sound doctrine,

1 Corinthians 6:9 Or do you not know that the unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived; neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor effeminate, nor homosexuals, 10 nor thieves, nor the covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor swindlers, shall inherit the kingdom of God.

Jude 1:7 just as Sodom and Gomorrah and the cities around them, since they in the same way as these indulged in gross immorality and went after strange flesh, are exhibited as an example in undergoing the punishment of eternal fire.

🔥

[theoutcastrogue]

Great job compiling and comparing them!

I think that the Comics Code Authority was worse if we only take into account how much it affected the industry, i.e. American comics. It basically killed all other genres, left only superheroes floating, and kept the entire medium infantile for a generation. If you're interested in comics as an art form, it's a horrifying result.

But if we widen our view a bit, and take into account their impact on society at large, I think dumbing down the movies was much worse. Movies were indeed in the process of critiquing the establishment, and they were doing it effectively (prison films are my favourite example on this), and then the Hays Code came along and they stopped, and to a large extent public opinion followed. (In comparison, when comics critiqued the establishment before the CCA stifled them, it reached a lot less people, and didn't have enough sway to move public opinion, I think.) That's not only an artistic disaster, it's a devastating result even if you don't give a shit about art!

I also want to comment on this from the Hays Code:

Theft, robbery, safe-cracking, and dynamiting of trains, mines, buildings, et cetera (having in mind the effect which a too-detailed description of these may have upon the moron); (I guess the idea was that the MPPDA believed very strongly in the idea that media could affect people's behavior through imitation, but the use of the word "moron" gives me eugenics vibes.)

So the vibe here is a pattern that predates cinema, and first appears with respectable people complaining about the theatre (back when theatre was for the masses, and not considered highbrow like now), and opining that books MAY depict crime or immoral acts, because by definition they address educated people, ergo smart people. Whereas plays should NOT, because they address the base unwashed masses, poor uneducated people who are not equipped to engage critically with the material, and might get ideas in their head! And start doing crime and immoral acts!

“In the penny theatres that abound in the poor and populous districts of London, and which are chiefly frequented by striplings of idle and dissolute habits, tales of thieves and murderers are more admired, and draw more crowded audiences, than any other species of representation. There the footpad, the burglar, and the highwayman are portrayed in unnatural colours, and give pleasant lessons in crime to their delighted listeners. There the deepest tragedy and the broadest farce are represented in the career of the murderer and the thief, and are applauded in proportion to their depth and their breadth. There, whenever a crime of unusual atrocity is committed, it is brought out afresh, with all its disgusting incidents copied from the life, for the amusement of those who will one day become its imitators. With the mere reader the case is widely different; and most people have a partiality for knowing the adventures of noted rogues. Even in fiction they are delightful: witness the eventful story of Gil Blas de Santillane, and of that great rascal Don Guzman d'Alfarache. Here there is no fear of imitation. Poets, too, without doing mischief, may sing of such heroes when they please, wakening our sympathies for the sad fate of Gilderoy, or Macpherson the Dauntless; or celebrating in undying verse the wrongs and the revenge of the great thief of Scotland, Rob Roy.” — Charles Mackay, Memoirs of Exrtaordinary Popular Delusions (London, 1841), from the chapter “Popular admiration of great thieves”

This exact rationale will reappear in 1915 in an American Supreme Court decision (since overturned), which decreed that Freedom of Speech does not apply to movies (or apparently "the theatre, the circus, and all other shows and spectacles"), but only to the press:

[Films] may be used for evil ... the audiences they assemble, not of women alone nor of men alone, but together, not of adults only, but of children, make them the more insidious in corruption... a prurient interest may be excited and appealed to.

See, books and newspapers are read by learned men, but anyone can watch a movie, and we must protect these poor impressionable souls from evil! With such a mentality, I think it's glaringly obvious who are the learned ones (white + well-off + men) and who are not (everyone else).

I think the Hays Code uses the word "moron" in the sense of a dated psychology term, it basically meant "of abnormally low IQ". At the time, psychology and criminology were…. bad. Slightly less absurd than Lombroso's heyday (which wasn't that far back!), but still, very bad. So this is 100% eugenics, and a pseudo-scientific new take on an old unfounded prejudice.

…An unfounded prejudice that somehow STILL has hold, today, in the 21st century. What the fuck is up with that? No, engaging with fiction about bad things won't make you do bad things, how many times must we debunk this shit, good grief.

Was the Comics Code as bad as the Hays Code?

That's a really good question!

I suppose it depends on what you mean by "as bad" - are we talking about the overall impact of the Code on American pop culture or are we talking about the actual content of the Code and what it banned and/or mandated in terms of artistic expression?

I've written a little bit about the Hays Code here, but my main focus was on subtextual judaism in Hollywood generally rather than what the Code was and what its impact on American cinema was.

So what did the Hays Code actually include?

One of the few positive things you can say about it is that the men who devised it were quite clear and forthright about what would and wouldn't be allowed, in comparison to the vagueness and inconsistency of the modern MPAA. So here's the list of what couldn't be shown:

Pointed profanity—by either title or lip—this includes the words God, Lord, Jesus, Christ (unless they be used reverently in connection with proper religious ceremonies), Hell, S.O.B., damn, Gawd, and every other profane and vulgar expression however it may be spelled; (You'll notice that the Code is very much a snapshot of the transition from silent movies to "talkies," with the discussion of how profanity is spelled as well as produced via "lip.")

Any licentious or suggestive nudity—in fact or in silhouette; and any lecherous or licentious notice thereof by other characters in the picture;

The illegal traffic in drugs;

Any inference of sex perversion; (i.e anything having to do with LGBT+ people and culture. For more on the impact of the Hays Code on the LGBT+ community, see the excellent documentary the Celluloid Closet.)

White slavery; (the 1920s version of sex trafficking, but with added racism!)

Miscegenation;

Sex hygiene and venereal diseases;

Scenes of actual childbirth—in fact or in silhouette;

Children's sex organs;

Ridicule of the clergy;

Willful offense to any nation, race or creed; and (this one was really honored in the breach more than the observance when it came to nations, races, and creeds of non-dominant groups in society.)

The following things could be shown, but "special care be exercised in the manner in which the following subjects are treated, to the end that vulgarity and suggestiveness may be eliminated and that good taste may be emphasized:"

The use of the Flag;

International Relations (avoid picturizing in an unfavorable light another country's religion, history, institutions, prominent people and citizenry); (again, depended a lot on what country you're talking about.)

Arson;

The use of firearms;

Theft, robbery, safe-cracking, and dynamiting of trains, mines, buildings, et cetera (having in mind the effect which a too-detailed description of these may have upon the moron); (I guess the idea was that the MPPDA believed very strongly in the idea that media could affect people's behavior through imitation, but the use of the word "moron" gives me eugenics vibes.)

Brutality and possible gruesomeness;

Technique of committing murder by whatever method;

Methods of smuggling;

Third-Degree methods; (i.e, torture)

Actual hangings or electrocutions as legal punishment for crime; Sympathy for criminals; (this was a big one; Hollywood had done very well from gangster films, so a lot of creators had to do some careful threading of the needle to keep the genre alive. One dodge that they came up with was that they would have a duplicate "final reel" in which the gangster would have their inevitable comeuppance, and then remove the final reel when the censors had left the theater. Very popular with white rural teens.) Attitude toward public characters and institutions; (again, Hollywood shifting from being anti- to pro-establishment.)

Sedition;

Apparent cruelty to children and animals;

Branding of people or animals;

The sale of women, or of a woman selling her virtue;

Rape or attempted rape;

First-night scenes; (i.e, wedding nights)

Man and woman in bed together; (hence the eventual TV practice of showing married couples in separate beds in the 50s)

Deliberate seduction of girls;

The institution of marriage;

Surgical operations;

The use of drugs;

Titles or scenes having to do with law enforcement or law-enforcing officers;

Excessive or lustful kissing, particularly when one character or the other is a "heavy".

So in general, we can say that the Hays Code was extremely sex-negative, very concerned about crime and anti-establishment thinking, sexist, racist, and homophobic, and in general afraid of offending anybody.

So what about the Comics Code Authority?

So this is what the Comics Code looked like in 1954:

Crimes shall never be presented in such a way as to create sympathy for the criminal, to promote distrust of the forces of law and justice, or to inspire others with a desire to imitate criminals. If crime is depicted it shall be as a sordid and unpleasant activity.

Policemen, judges, government officials, and respected institutions shall never be presented in such a way as to create disrespect for established authority.

Criminals shall not be presented so as to be rendered glamorous or to occupy a position which creates a desire for emulation. In every instance good shall triumph over evil and the criminal punished for his misdeeds.

Scenes of excessive violence shall be prohibited. Scenes of brutal torture, excessive and unnecessary knife and gunplay, physical agony, the gory and gruesome crime shall be eliminated.

No comic magazine shall use the words "horror" or "terror" in its title.

All scenes of horror, excessive bloodshed, gory or gruesome crimes, depravity, lust, sadism, masochism shall not be permitted.

All lurid, unsavory, gruesome illustrations shall be eliminated. Inclusion of stories dealing with evil shall be used or shall be published only where the intent is to illustrate a moral issue and in no case shall evil be presented alluringly, nor so as to injure the sensibilities of the reader.

Scenes dealing with, or instruments associated with walking dead, torture, vampires and vampirism, ghouls, cannibalism, and werewolfism are prohibited.

Profanity, obscenity, smut, vulgarity, or words or symbols which have acquired undesirable meanings are forbidden.

Nudity in any form is prohibited, as is indecent or undue exposure. Suggestive and salacious illustration or suggestive posture is unacceptable.

Females shall be drawn realistically without exaggeration of any physical qualities.

Illicit sex relations are neither to be hinted at nor portrayed. Rape scenes, as well as sexual abnormalities, are unacceptable.

Seduction and rape shall never be shown or suggested.

Sex perversion or any inference to same is strictly forbidden.

Nudity with meretricious purpose and salacious postures shall not be permitted in the advertising of any product; clothed figures shall never be presented in such a way as to be offensive or contrary to good taste or morals.[16]

You'll notice the similarities when it comes to the Codes' attitude to sex, sexuality, crime, and symbols of authority - so to answer the first part of your question, I would say the CCA was pretty similar to the Hays Code (in part because Charles F. Murphy, who drew it up, was deeply unoriginal and basically cribbed off the Hays Code throughout).

However, there are also some significant areas of difference that have a lot to do with the unique circumstances of the 1950s moral panic over comics. See, in the 1950s, superhero comics were considered deeply uncool and old hat - they had been huge in the 40s during the war, but by the 50s the biggest genre in comics were horror, crime, and romance comics (with cowboy comics bringing up the rear). To quote myself from another post:

"This gave rise to a moral panic in the 1950s, although more accurately it was part of the larger moral panic over juvenile delinquency. The U.S Senate established a Juvenile Delinquency Subcommittee of the Judiciary Committee in 1953 to investigate the causes of juvenile delinquency and comics became a major target. While Wertham’s book is best known today for its assertions that Batman and Robin were teaching young boys to be gay and Wonder Woman was teaching young girls to be lesbians, the main focus of the Subcommittee [edit mine: and Wertham's academic work] was on horror and crime comics for their depiction of sex, violence, and “subversive” attitudes to law and order."

The CCA made it impossible to publish two of the most popular genres in the industry for a generation (the CCA relaxed its stance on horror stuff a bit in the 70s, which is why Marvel trend-chased werewolves and vampires the moment they could get away with it), which not only scrambled the medium (and potentially created space for the Silver Age of superhero comics to flourish) but drove the former titan EC Comics practically out of business. (Indeed, William Gaines of EC Comics believed that the CCA had been specifically worded to drive him out of business.)

So in some ways, the CCA was worse.

[decadentpaperduck]

I don't have anything super specific in mind (I'm so sorry I realize that's not very helpful) but maybe something mostly fluffy with just a little bit of angst for Eddie? Like maybe they broke up a while ago and (this is an Eddie Survives kind of universe) they're able to reunite/check on each other in the aftermath of the "earthquake" in Hawkins? Or something else! I just love your writing. <3

Thank you for your request angel! No matter how vague, I welcome it. Here it is! Eddie surviving and reuniting with his ex in an unfortunate set of circumstances!! 1.3k of mentions of blood, fluff and a bit of angsty regret <3

The earth beneath you vibrates and it’s loud. It would have been loud enough to wake you had you not already been awake, plagued by the rumours that your gentle, sweet ex-boyfriend, Eddie, had been accused of murder.

Murders. Plural.

You scramble out of bed in a panic, unsteady on your feet as the floor continues to move, to look out of the window. The sky is unusually red, illuminating the ground below and the cracks that have driven through it. You’re clinging onto the window frame with fear and confusion. You would pinch yourself if you could only bring yourself to move.

You call out for your parents. The scream brings them to you in an equal panic. They had heard it all too, felt it. They wrap your arms around you as your close your eyes and cry with fear. It feels like forever passes before the sound stops. Before the earth stops shaking.

But it doesn’t take long for reporters to be on scene and home television sets to flood with the scenes of the devastation across Hawkins. Tired families, including your own, gather around the screen with baited breath. The news tallies up the number of bodies on air and your heart sinks. Your mother is crying and you barely hear the mention of his name amongst the disaster. Eddie Munson.

He has gone missing but of course, everyone thinks he’s the one responsible. Your head hurts. Your heart hurts.

You push yourself up from the couch and run to the phone, your legs carrying you without thought, and dial his number. The dull dial tone sounds for some time before you hang up the receiver.

You hadn’t called Eddie in years. Even if he had answered, what would you have said in a situation like this over the phone?

Before you know it, your parents have gone back to bed, overwrought with exhaustion and you’re running through the dawn as it breaks. Towards Hawkins High School and beyond, to the clearing in the trees, with the picnic benches.

By some ridiculous miracle, there he sits. On a picnic bench in his high school grounds. Your eyes fill with tears. “Hey.” Your voice shakes. You’re unsteady and you’re scared. He looks rougher around the edges than he used to. You wonder if that’s a recent thing or a result of the earthquake. He looks like he might have been injured. He looks up at you, eyes drawn with fear.

But when he sees you, the fear disappears. “Hi.” He smiles and you wonder how, in the face of everything, he could bless you with such a sight. You attempt a tentative smile back as the emotion ripping through you says more than your words ever can.

Words sit at the tip of your tongue. You look at him and all the years apart fall away. “If I didn’t know you better, I would think you missed me with that look on your face.” He mumbles a little, not as confident in himself as he once was, despite what he has endured.

“Eddie.” It’s a whisper he barely catches, but a small twitch in his facial expression gives him away. “What’s going on?” You walk towards him slowly, the gap between you too big.

“I wish I could explain.”

“They say you killed people.” The words barely make it out of your mouth. So unnatural in their own regard, never mind attached to the puppy eyed Eddie who sits before you. His face looks as through he’s been in a fight. A pang of hurt reverberates through your cold body, like a strum of one of Eddie’s guitars.

“They do say that.” He looks down at the decaying bench. “Do you…believe them?” You sit down on the other side of the bench and hold his hands.

“Would I be here if I did?” He relaxes and watches as you run your thumbs over his rings, like you used to when you were an item.

“Do any of them have a particular meaning?” You cocked your head as you looked at them with curiosity. He chuckled.

“They’re just rings, Princess.” He was almost mocking you, but not entirely.

“That doesn’t mean they don’t have meaning.” You looked up at him and stuck your tongue out. “My necklace.” You put a hand on it. “You got it for me and I will never stop wearing it. It’s meaning is that I love you.”

“I think it means that I love you.” He corrected affectionately.

“Sure, sure.” You dismissed. “But I wear it because of the love it symbolises. And I just wondered if this lovely skull was in memoriam of your ability to lighten up.” You rolled your eyes and he caught your lips with a kiss.

“Well there is one.” He kissed your cheek, then your brow. “This one.” He showed you the one with the cross and four skulls. “It’s nothing visually to do with anything in my life, but, I bought it the day I asked you on a date.” He bit his lip, you could tell he felt embarrassed. One hand still clinging to his, you took your free hand and cupped his face. “I told myself I could get it if I grew a pair and actually asked you out.” He leant into your hand.

“And you did.”

“And I did.” He turned and kissed the inside of your palm and you sighed happily before returning it to hold his hand once more.

“They think Hellfire is a satanic cult.” You roll your eyes at what he says. People could never just leave him alone.

“The day this town gets it’s head out of the past is the day nerds can walk freely among us.” You almost growl and he snickers. You clamp your lips shut, afraid to laugh.

“I don’t know that you’ll believe me.” He’s thinking as he takes control of the hand-holding. Your hands in his, where they belong, sat atop the ring he bought, the day he asked you out. “But please know it’s not like I’m high or-”

“Eddie. I don’t think that. But it wouldn’t matter anyway.”

“Well, when you hear this it might.” His eyes are locked on yours.

“Are you hurt?” Your awareness of his slow movements and rugged appearance catching up with you. He shakes his head and laughs a little.

“I’m alive. That’s what counts.” He swallows. “Why did you come find me?” He frowns. “I knew it couldn’t be true.”

“Which part?”

“All of it.”

“Well, there’s certainly stuff you need to know. Hawkins isn’t safe. And it’s nothing to do with my cult.” You giggle. “But I may have to leave. I cant stay.” He squeezes your hands. “I know this is totally the wrong time.” You feel it. “But did you ever think…do you think…”

“All the time.”

“Are you coming to my graduation?” You asked, taking a sip from a bottle Eddie had handed to you. He shook his head. “What?” You recoiled slightly, with a laugh, thinking it was some shitty joke.

“I think…I think we should break up.”

“What?!” You repeated yourself.

“I’m not graduating. We know that.”

“Yeah but you coul-”

“I think it’s the perfect time to put the nail in the coffin. You’re going places, that’s obvious.” He gestured to you in a way that was meant to compliment you but you couldn’t help but overlook that with the knowledge he was ending things for such a superficial reason. “I’m not. Guarantee as much as I try, I’ll fail and fail again. I am destined to fail. We are destined to fail.”

“I thought of you all the time.” You confess. “You said I was going places but suddenly I didn’t want to.”

“Goddamn it. Why did I try and be a hero?” He rolls his eyes and starts laughing before he winces and clutches at his side.

“What! What happened, Eddie?”

“Funnily enough, I tried to be a hero.”

“God Eddie, do you never learn?” You smile and pull him towards you by the lapels of his leather jacket. “So where are we running to?” You whisper against his lips.

[dark-elf-writes]

I keeping thinking about Naruto with a water and wind affinity that can stir storms with a breath and flood the earth with a gesture. Sasuke that can turn forests to ash in an instant and summon the lightning from the sky. Sakura that can cause landslides with a stomp and make mountains crumble at will. Just Kakashi’s little cataclysms :D

Kakashi stumbles in to the Jonin lounge somehow both charred and soaked, covered in dirt, with his hair even more on end than normal and lays facedown in the middle of the floor for ten minutes before someone (Asuma who lost rock paper scissors three times) asks what happens.

“All of it.”

They blink, look at each other, and after another round of rock paper scissors that Asuma loses again (Kurenai is absolutely cheating with a genjutsu she is not dealing with this) he asks “all of what?”

Kakashi lifts his face from the ground, turns to look at Asuma with a thousand yard stare and just says “Every natural disaster at once” then drops his head back rot eh carpet with a loud thud.

They leave him there to mourn the brutal murder of his last scrap of sanity and all decide to… incidentally check their home insurance covers unnatural disasters as well.

[makeste]

So, which of these desperately sobbing children gets to compete for Worst Day? I... think Shouto's our, uh, lucky winner, but I think Deku, Momo, and Tokoyami all put up strong fights

so seeing as we are finally approaching New Chapter Times again after a very long three weeks, this feels like a good time to do a recap of just how much everything currently sucks for our intrepid heroes. it may seem a bit insensitive of me to go through the cast list one by one and arbitrarily assign each character a number score based on how shitty their day was, but... well actually I don’t really have a good defense for that, lol. whatever, let’s just get to ranking these children’s misery (and while we’re at it, some of the adults’ as well).

Midoriya Izuku

current status: unconscious. currently has a pair of those floppy inflatable flailing tube men dealios for arms. had to watch his teacher and his best friends get hurt and nearly die while being helpless to do anything to stop it. has a new quirk which “warns” him of approaching danger by giving him ice pick headaches, as if he didn’t have enough pain in his life as it is. is being targeted by the most dangerous person in the world. and last but not least, is probably on the verge of his super-secret quirk becoming not-so-secret, and having to deal with the fallout of that.

rank: 9/10. hard to imagine how things could get much worse for this little guy atm. NO HORIKOSHI THAT IS NOT A CHALLENGE. YOU LEAVE HIS MENTOR ALONE.

Bakugou Katsuki

current status: unconscious. got impaled by the Big Bad which initially did not look good, but apparently it wasn’t enough to stop him from flying around in drunken loop-de-loops whilst ignoring Iida’s protests, so who knows. proudly announced his new hero name to the world only to be met with scorn and ridicule and hysterical laughter from that fucking Caillou-looking motherfucker whose opinion he never mcfucking asked for, thank you very much. and also his best friend’s self-sacrificing tendencies are giving him anxiety, and his other best friend’s brother just pulled a reverse Darth Vader on Endeavor and upended hero society as we know it. so there’s a good chance he might be called upon to provide emotional support to one or even BOTH of them in the near future. has... has he actually become the stable friend in the trio. fuck.

rank: 7/10 just because he briefly appeared to be in a situationally-inappropriate good mood for those few brief minutes right after Jeanist appeared. you were having too much fun to get a top score, Katsuki.

Todoroki Shouto

current status: not unconscious but probably wishing he was. older brother came back from the dead and revealed that he was a mass murderer and broadcast all of Shouto’s personal traumas to the entire world before earnestly trying to set him and his friends on fire. so is currently dealing with all of the fun fallout from that, on top of watching his teacher and friends all come within inches of death. will probably be dragged into a national controversy against his will now that Endeavor’s past has been revealed. all of it is honestly so shitty that it’s all but impossible for me to put an irreverent spin on this. I honestly can’t think of a single joke to make. goddammit Shouto.

rank: 10/10. a perfect storm of shittiness.

Yaoyorozu Momo

current status: somehow Momo went from having no mentors that we knew of, to having two mentors, and then back to having no mentors, all in the span of a single day. has to be some sort of record.

rank: 8/10. and the worst part of all is that she was a fucking BAMF during this arc, but she can’t even enjoy that now because of all the trauma. I’m still proud of you, Momo.

Uraraka Ochako

current status: mentally and physically exhausted after spending a day out on the front lines dealing with the aftermath of an unnatural disaster. saw things that were canonically enough to make a grown man have a nervous breakdown right then and there. had a really weird and unsettling encounter with Toga who keeps trying to relate to her by telling her things like “hey Ochako, this one time I turned into you and used your quirk to murder someone horribly isn’t that wild.” it’s just been a very long day for her.

rank: 6/10. stressful af but she’s still in one piece and no one was actively murdered in front of her. sometimes you gotta take whatever wins you can get.

Tokoyami Fumikage

current status: his mentor was nearly burned to death in front of him and he was almost burned to death too, and the guy who kept attempting to burn him was all “YOUR MENTOR’S A MURDERER BTW AND SO YOU SHOULD JUST LET ME KILL HIM”, and so he was kind of put on the spot there and he didn’t really know what to do, and somehow he managed to escape with Hawks anyway but Hawks’s wings were all burnt off, and then a fucking video of Hawks stabbing Twice in the back got broadcast to the entire nation and so it’s like, ???? he didn’t sign up for this??? he is just a little birb??? can he live????

rank: 7/10 because he missed out on all of the other traumatizing stuff, but it’s honestly impressive how bad his day managed to be even in spite of that.

All for One

current status: All for One’s day is actually going pretty good.

rank: 0/10. hey but fuck you, AFO.

Shigaraki Tomura

current status: woke up early from his nap which always sucks. only got to enjoy his cool new Transcendent Being powers for a few minutes before the heroes all ganged up on him and incinerated him a bunch of times and fucked up his shiny new cape. has his old mentor currently taking up residence in his head uninvited and trying to boss him around. found out his grandma was part of One for All?? then slept through all of the fun stuff with the Dabi reveal. also a bunch of his friends are either dead or captured. all in all was not really the best day for him.

rank: 8/10 because he was having himself a grand old time for a while there, but once some of this stuff finally sinks in the Suck Factor is going to go way, way up. also, seriously, AFO is currently possessing his body, jesus christ. just leave him alone already.

Hawks

current status: had to make an impossible choice between sitting back and letting an untold number of people die, and turning on a good but misguided man who was only trying to help his friends. has to live with the trauma of literally stabbing his friend in the back for the rest of his life. may have been rendered effectively quirkless. was publicly dragged through the mud alongside Endeavor, and unlike Endeavor he didn’t actually do anything to earn it (though that probably won’t stop him from feeling like he has). oh and speaking of Endeavor, just found out that the hero he looked up to since childhood abused his family and shit, and so now he has to grapple with that on top of everything else. how fucked is it that the minute he finally got to drop his whole double agent balancing act, his life somehow got even more fucked up and complicated.

rank: 9/10. let Hawks rest.

Aizawa Shouta

current status: unconscious. seems to have lost an eye which may possibly affect his quirk. had to saw off his own fucking leg. met the man who experimented on his childhood friend. doesn’t know yet that said man was originally targeting him and not Shirakumo. oh and also his other other childhood friend just died and he doesn’t know it yet. and someone else sacrificed himself in order to save him. and most of his other hero pals are either dead or wounded too, and all of his kids are deeply traumatized. and the guy they went through all of this shit to try and capture in the first place got away, and hero society is now in shambles.

rank: 11/10. Horikoshi. wtf did Aizawa ever do to you.

anyways it’s getting late and I was gonna throw in a few honorable mentions, but I think I’ll just call it a day instead. feel free to weigh in on any of the ones I missed. Dabi for one is having himself a FINE, fine day. but Endeavor not so much. sob.

[lestatthebrat]

Today’s topic: Representations of Queerness in “Interview with the Vampire” (AKA: Evil Gay Vampires) 

Let me begin by saying I LOVE Lestat and Louis—obviously (what’s not to love?)—and I love the fact that these two beautiful boys are a couple. Honestly, I probably wouldn’t like the film or the books half as much if they weren’t queer. #Loustat forever. And Lestat is my bisexual KING. 

That being said, it’s important to think about how LGBT people are portrayed in film, literature, and pop-culture as well as the ideas, messages, and stereotypes that are conveyed in media. I really LOVE the 1994 movie directed by Neil Jordan (it’s one of my favorite movies ever), but I do think it, like so many films in the 90s and still today, aligns queerness with “darkness,” “evil,” and “deviance.” Let me explain. 

At the beginning of the film, we meet Louis. He is introduced to the audience (regardless of his actual sexuality) as a heterosexual man in a heteronormative relationship. He is a widower devastated by the loss of his wife and child. (This is a change from the novel, in which Louis is grieving the recent loss of his brother. It’s almost like the film intentionally made Louis “straighter.”)

Then enters Lestat, an evil bisexual vampire, who seduces Louis (our previously/seemingly heterosexual hero) and convinces him to become his immortal “companion” (a word that is used over and over in the film, in regard to Louis’ relationship with Lestat and Armand, but we know they really mean “boyfriend”). Louis’ becoming a vampire is linked to his entering a same-sex relationship. Lestat turns him into a vampire, and he also “turns him queer.” Furthermore, the “deviance” of queerness—going against societal expectations and heteronormativity—and the darkness and evil of “vampire nature” are paralleled.

Throughout the film, Louis tries to resist the temptation of killing, and he tries not to give in to Lestat, who constantly urges him to embrace the “immoral” and “unnatural” life of being a vampire. Louis resists his bloodlust for as long as he can, but eventually he gives in and starts killing people. Coincidentally (or not so coincidentally), this coincides with Lestat and Louis making a vampire baby together and starting a vampire family... i.e. they have sex, enter a steady/long-term intimate relationship, and raise a child together. 

Aside from Louis and Lestat’s queerness being linked to deviance, evil, and impurity, their union ultimately ends with chaos and disaster: their daughter Claudia is discontent (and mentally deranged) as her fathers fail to “raise her right” and they also fail to bring her happiness. Claudia attempts to murder Lestat, who she resents and hates, and she ends up dying herself. Louis is left devastated, alone, and “empty,” and Lestat too ends up heartbroken and alone. 

When Lestat and Louis reunite years later, Lestat wants to give their relationship another try, perhaps believing they can help each other heal after all of the pain and suffering they have been through, but Louis refuses. The filmmakers present Louis’ rejecting Lestat as a bittersweet moment but the “right” decision. 

In conclusion: queerness and the “evil” of being a vampire are linked in this film. Louis is the “good vampire” who tries to resist his bloodlust (and his actual lust) and not to give in to his queerness. Meanwhile, Lestat is the “evil vampire” who embraces his vampire nature (and queerness) without regret. It is a very old, very common, and very harmful stereotype that LGBT people are dangerous, predatory, and psychopathic. (We see it again and again in movies: Psycho, Silence of the Lambs, Outlander... pretty much every horror movie featuring a gay character.) Lestat—I love, love, LOVE Lestat--but he could, arguably, fit this stereotype: the evil gay vampire who preys on innocent little straight boys and turns them gay.

Again, I’m delighted that Louis and Lestat are queer and that they are a couple (honestly, that’s the best part of the movie and books), but I also think its important to be mindful of the way LGBT relationships are portrayed in film, literature, media, and pop-culture. It might seem trivial (it’s just a movie, right?), but these sorts of things have real lasting impacts on the way LGBT people are viewed and treated in real life.