#it's human behavior to assign a theory of mind to other things

[parple]

Animals don't think the way humans do, and they don't need to!

My favorite example of this comes from the study of beavers. A recurrent belief was that beavers must have some advanced understanding of engineering to build such stable dams. This was until the 1980s, when Finnish scientists played the sound of running water in a field near a beaver pond. Obviously, the sound was coming from a box on dry land, but beavers still covered the tape player with sticks and mud until they couldn't hear it any more. Instead of needing human-level intelligence, beavers just evolved to detest the sound of running water.

Cats getting caught doing crimes

[bonefall]

Howdy Bonefall!! Great work wanted to start with that

I'm trying to come with a hyena xenofiction (+ other canid-likes), and I'm struggling with like... Not doing the stupid shit Erins did with the sisters of "in a WORLD where MEN are OPPRESSED". "Actually all the guys are okay with being second class" feels like a cop out, and I don't want to erase such an interesting aspect of hyena hierarchy.

So... I guess I'm going to you sorta for advice? Because you're super cool, and the only xeno worldbuilder I really follow. If you want, feel free to use this ask as a pass to infodump about the sisters instead, instead. Like, your version or the Erins.

Sorey for the long ask bye now

This is a neat question without a totally straightforward answer, but my advice would actually be to look very closely at historical systems with rigid gender roles, and try to understand the role it played in society.

What usually makes xenofiction sexism so rancid is the way that an author states (by assertion or just by subconscious assumption) that their ""natural world"" is bioessentialist, and this is justified because It's Natural. For a clear, STARK example, the Ginga series asserts that male dogs are better than female dogs, just by matter of biology, while also assigning gendered human behaviors (vanity, whininess) to its female characters to make its point.

In Cheek by Jowl, Le Guin points this out as "cheating." The author both describes the world they're writing as "natural," while prescribing their own human biases to it.

With the Sisters, the Erins did this lowkey fascinating thing where they sort of did the reverse. They described realistic, normal cat behaviors, but they're SO repulsed by the idea of not portraying heterosexual, monogamous marriage as ideal that they got scared of their own concept.

Hence the way they've turned on the Sisters, using human values to have the Warriors react with disgust and hostility when they don't have husbands, don't raise kids in nuclear families, send teen males away at 6 months, etc. They're doing the same thing Le Guin pointed out, just in a different flavor.

So-- that's why my advice is to look at societies. If you're anthropomorphizing animals enough for them to consider high concepts like justice and equality, they aren't just working on raw biology. Gender roles can be influenced by sexual dimophism, sure, but look deeper.

WHY do those roles exist? What purpose do they serve to society? Hunting, food preparation, spreading news. Are there materials to be prepared, like clothing or tools? Are there social laws to be taught and remembered?

Are these gendered? How? Why are they divided in the way they are? Are these divisions rigid?

These sorts of questions in humans are not answered purely by biology. Gender and roles are different across cultures and, while most have common trends, nothing is truly universal. Why do Xenofiction writers assume that would be the case for fantasy animal cultures?

Be thoughtful. The phrase "Well Behaved Women Rarely Make History" wasn't a victim-blaming call to action for every girl to start 'misbehaving' to appease the historians-- it was to implore people to appreciate the contributions that women HAVE been making since the dawn of time, even within oppressive roles that downplayed those achievements.

And, I would also call for you to do some deeper research on hyenas, because here's a surprise-- the "male oppression" thing is actually an oversimplification!

Exactly like the concept of the Alpha Wolf, it's only partially true but largely inaccurate. Hyena clans are much more complicated than that.

Hyenas are not actually highly sexually dimorphic. Females are only slightly larger on average. In this way, they are quite like humans; we also aren't massively different between sexes.

Hyenas are so intelligent that they have theory of mind. Shenzi is capable of understanding that Ed likes Banzai more than Banagi, and uses that to her tactical advantage. Shenzi knows that she needs to befriend Banzai to have Ed's support, and then both of them will help her usurp Banagi.

Clans are not matriarchal, they are matrilineal. Cubs inherit their mother's rank, just below her. A male cub can massively benefit from staying in his birth clan because of this-- and that does include inheriting his mother's status.

So that thing about "highest ranking male is below the lowest ranking female" is not accurate. That applies to migrant males, not clanborn.

And here's the real kicker; size and strength is almost completely negligible to which hyena wins a fight. It's ALL about SOCIAL CONNECTION. me and the girlies attending the ides of march

Males are more likely to leave their birth clan and females are not. Leave home and your mom won't help you beat up your bullies, and you can't rely on the other males because they aren't family. This is the reason why females "dominate," they don't disperse so they've got family watching their back.

The idea of hyenas being "bizarro world" where the big, mean sex oppresses the tiny, demure sex is just as much a misconception of spotted hyenas as it is a misconception of human beings.

It would make a downright delicious concept to play with, if you wanted to make a deconstruction of gender roles broadly.

(Disclaimer: this post is intentionally discussing sex in a binary way for simplicity in how it influences gender, especially in a historical context. Sex is not actually binary. Even "bimodal distribution" barely scratches the surface of the topic)

[ewingstan]

Philosophy ask game: I love Tattletale with all my heart. Philosophy interpretation welcomed as well as psychosexual if there's anything there

Tattletale was actually the second character I assigned a thought experiment for! But if I was going to give her a second, I might go with G.A. Cohen's "idealized Mafioso."

This is a thought experiment levied against Kristine Korsgaard's identity-based grounding of normativity—Korsgaard claims that even though moral rules and norms do not exist in a "robust" sense—not having any existence outside of our heads—it's rational for us to follow them insofar as we care about the identities we construct for ourselves. We care about being a good mother, or a good friend, or a good patriot, but identifying with those roles requires that we follow various role-related rules (adequately caring for your child, helping your friend out even when it costs you, being willing to die and kill in jingoistic allegiance to an arbitrarily-circumscribed group of people, etc). Korsgaard claims that identifying with these roles is incredibly valuable to us insofar as it gives us a sense of ourselves as agents. Further, failing to follow these roles' norms is incredibly painful, the break in our identities being something wefear and desperately try to avoid. This giving us real reasons to follow the moral rules associated with those roles, despite such rules not having a "robust" existence outside of our own minds.

G.A. Cohen replies to Korsgaard by pointing out that there are many identities that have strong behavioral requirements, but which we don't think justifies agents acting certain ways. For instance, a Mafioso may force himself "to do some hideous thing" by reminding himself of his code, of his loyalty to the family, of the importance of those things to his identity. We wouldn't want to say he's morally justified in doing such things, but Korsgaard's account of normativity would seemingly force us to say he's justified in acting according to the cruel obligations of his identity.

This character is similar to other immoral figures used to test meta-ethical theories, from Gibbard's "ideally coherent Caligula" to Plato's Gyges. Such figures obviously bare little resemblance to Tattletale—but the Mafioso, defined by his self-conception as a criminal with a strong but strange moral code, is a natural fit. Lisa puts an incredible amount of worth in being Tattletale, to the point that come Ward the identity of "Lisa" has been thoroughly discarded. Her conception of herself as Tattletale is strong enough that when sucked into shardspace, unlike almost everyone else there, the representation of her core self manifested wearing her complete supervillain costume—including the handgun! Any questioning of her identity as Tattletale gets met with ferocity (think of her brutal comments to Victoria when she tried to commiserate over her experiences as Sarah Livesy) because Lisa puts an incredible amount of value in that identity. Whether that justifies everything she does as part of fulfilling that identity, well, that's for Cohen and Korsgaard to hash out.*

*Korsgaard's main response to this line is to claim that we primarily identify as rational agents/humans, and that the role-related responsibilities needed to maintain your self-identification as a human includes most of the primary moral rules we're concerned with (in fact being identical to Kant's categorical imperative). However, not everyone sees it as obvious that our identity as a human is primary over all other identities. As such, it may not be the case that the Mafioso has more reason to act to preserve his self-identification as a human rather than his self-identification as a good Mafioso. See Cohen "Reason, Humanity, and the Moral Law" and Korsgaard "Replies," both within Korsgaard's "The Sources of Normativity" (1996).

[milkywayhou]

You've Got Email (König x OC: Medical Student!Snow) PART III

Summary: When the Colonel from some Private Military Corporation group accidentally send KorTac's secret file via email to a random civilian girl and now they develop some weird relationship.

or

Snow now overthinking about how fucked up her situation can be

TWs: Slow burn (not really), Implies stalking behavior. I just wrote this for fun.

Words Count: 1.9k (The email contain 1.3+ words while the rest was Snow's 4Chan post)

----

From: SnowFarron93@medschool.edu

To: Colonel_König@KorTac.mil

05/13/23 at 01:38 am

Subject: A late night conspiracy ramble…

Hey!

Once again it’s a late night and these weary med student brain cells are firing off all kinds of…interesting theories and connections, to say the least.

For example, okay hear me out, but what if Big Pharma is actually run by ancient shape-shifting lizard people from the center of the hollow earth who feed on human adrenal gland fluid harvested during rituals conducted at Bohemian Grove, and they started the pharmaceutical industry just to get us all addicted to medication so we’re docile little cash cows?!

I know, I know, it’s utterly ridiculous…buuuuut it would explain a few things haha! Anyways, somehow my winding thought process led me back to pondering your own doubtless intriguing backstory, oh mysterious Colonel.

You’ve given mysterious snippets here and there, but never a straight history lesson, you sly dog. Care to unravel some of those shadows for this thirsty student? Like how’d you get into this line of work anyway?

Maybe share something to take my mind off lizard people conspiracies before this insomnia kills me. You’ve got me curious now!

Conspiracizing but also bedridden,

Snow

----

From: Colonel_König@KorTac.mil

To: SnowFarron93@medschool.edu

05/13/23 at 02:01 am

Subject: RE: A late night conspiracy ramble…

You’ve a vivid imagination, to be sure. As for my own history…it’s nothing so fanciful, I’m afraid.

I grew up isolated, with only books as company. Social skills proved…challenging. The bullying was constant. All I wanted was to disappear into the quiet of nature, far from the incessant noise inside my head.

By 17 I was desperate to escape, and the military offered just that. I dreamed of being a sniper – controlling chaos from afar through calm precision. But my frame and restlessness didn’t suit remaining still for long. They saw potential elsewhere. They assigned as an insertion specialist instead. It was difficult, but taught discipline. In time I learned to turn noise into focus, chaos into strategy.

Now I protect others as I wished to be protected then. It brings…solace, of a kind. Purpose, where once was only turmoil.

Get some rest, Snow. Sweet dreams.

König

----

From: SnowFarron93@medschool.edu

To: Colonel_König@KorTac.mil

05/13/23 at 02:14 am

Subject: RE: RE: A late night conspiracy ramble…

I see.

Thank you for sharing that with me. I can’t imagine how difficult those experiences must have been, but I’m grateful you found your calling in spite of them. It takes real strength of character to turn trauma into purpose like that.

Also, I should say the bullying says far more about their weakness of spirit than anything about you. Their loss, as it brought you to where you’re meant to be – helping people in your own way. I can’t help but smile thinking of a tiny bookworm König dreaming of sniping lizards in the woods! Well, you may not be in the trees anymore but it seems your aim is truer than ever.

Thinking on childhoods, mine wasn’t all sunshine either as an awkward kid. Let’s just say blending in was…challenging, to put it lightly. Between moving a lot after my parents split and living with various relatives, school was an escape into study. Seemed the safest route to gain some footing and make the family proud, at least. Kept me busy avoiding the realities outside books for a while too, I suppose. Somehow I suspect lonely bookworm me and you may have gotten along splendidly if our paths crossed back then!

Anyways, not sure where I’m going with this aside from reflecting our younger selves may have found solace in one another, strange as that sounds now in these roles. At least we’ve come into our own in the end, in our own ways. Small favors and all that.

Just a light note before sleep – rest well, König!

Your friend,

Snow

----

From: SnowFarron93@medschool.edu

To: Colonel_König@KorTac.mil

05/28/23 at 08:27 pm

Subject: Essay Woes and Cadaver Flashbacks

Ugh,

My apologies for this incoherent word vomit you’re about to endure. I’m approximately 5-7 days into an all-nighter essay crunch and my last two brain cells are DANCING.

This final assignment is killing me dead but at least after it’s over I can finally be done with med school! *insert jubilant celebration emoji* Of course that’s if I don’t starve to death first living off instant ramen. I’m positively wasting away without a decent meal. At this rate they’ll be teaching anatomy lectures using my lifeless body.

Whoever invents a magic food delivery service that beams freshly cooked meals directly to overworked students is getting a freaking Nobel Prize. A girl can dream, right? At this point I’d kill a man for a good pizza. *hideshypotheticalmurderweaponbehindback*

Anyways, in my spiral of delirium my thoughts keep wandering back to that fateful day months ago when I randomly received your classified KorTac email out of nowhere. Still bewildered how you even had my address to begin with…were you watching me, Colonel? *pretends to be frightened but is secretlyflattered*

Getting that file was kinda scary at first, not gonna lie. Reminded me of the first time we received our cadavers – that creepy feeling of being watched even after leaving the lab. Is that what it’s like being you, always paranoid someone has intel on you? :)

Anyways, enough gibbering – just wanted to share my pain and also wonder again how our wacky email friendship began! Stay safe out there in whatever shady places your work takes you. And send help – I mean, good luck with all the classified stuff!

Tired and Hangry,

Snow

----

From: SnowFarron93@medschool.edu

To: Colonel_König@KorTac.mil

05/28/23 at 08:40 pm

Subject: WHAT DID YOU DO

KÖNIG I SWEAR TO GOD

I LITERALLY JUST GOT A DELIVERY AT MY DOOR. IT WAS PIZZA AND IT WAS ALREADY PAID FOR

DUDE TELL ME YOU DIDN’T HACK INTO MY LOCATION OR SOME SHIT. HOW DO YOU KNOW WHERE I LIVE??

I’M FREAKING OUT A LITTLE NOT GONNA LIE. I KNOW YOU HAVE ACCESS TO SHADY TECH BUT PLEASE TELL ME YOU DIDN’T TRACK ME DOWN

I was joking in my last email! Sort of! Please say this was all just a coincidence. I don’t need some extra secret stalker on top of everything else ;____;

Explain yourself soldier man!!! My paranoia can only be quelled with answers.

Sending mildly panicked regards,

Snow

----

From: Colonel_König@KorTac.mil

To: SnowFarron93@medschool.edu

05/28/23 at 09:12 pm

Subject: RE: WHAT DID YOU DO

Snow,

I assure you, any capabilities related to surveillance are reserved strictly for operations.

As for your delivery, consider it a small kindness from one overworked soul to another. Now eat, regain strength, and get back to that essay. You’ve proven quite resourceful in pulling secrets from shadows. But some mysteries deserve to remain.

Worry not and carry on with your studies.

König

----

From: SnowFarron93@medschool.edu

To: Colonel_König@KorTac.mil

05/28/23 at 09:25 pm

Subject: Spill. Everything. Now.

I appreciate the pizza bailout, don’t get me wrong. But my paranoia has now reached DEFCON 1 levels and it WILL NOT stand down until I get some answers. So spill. Just how much do you actually know about me? Do you have my address on file somewhere? Photos? Socials? Pet peeves? Middle name??

I understand need-to-know for operations, but this is need-to-know for my own peace of mind. Please assuage these frazzled med student nerves and assure me you’re not some mysterious stalker Colonel (unless that’s just part of your charm). I’ll even send new Luna's pics in return! Consider it a debriefing – you give, you get. Otherwise the wheels will keep spinning in my head…

Sincerely (and only mildly obsessively),

Snow

----------

>>Anonymous

05/29/23(Mon)22:37:10 No:132926391

Colonel Stalker Dude is freaking me out

Image: [Confused pepe scratching head.jpg 230kb, 400x400]

>Be me, a totally tired out and broke student

>Remember getting those shady files months ago

>Thought Colonel dude was cool and weird pen pal

>Even started to like him after long talks

>But NOW he knows my address???

>WTF how long has he been watching me

>On one hand it’s creepy AF but kinda flattering a high rank dude cares

>Other hand I don't want a secret stalker or to get disappeared

>Free food is nice but feeling stalked is not cash money

>Used to have bit of crush but now I'm skeeved TBH

>What do? Can't go to cops cuz questions. No close friends/fam

>Too broke to move or change info

>Maybe he’s just lonely but also maybe he climbs in my window ;____;

>What if he takes my organs in the night like some human harvester?!

>Only protection is my cat Luna and she's useless in a fight ;_;

>Try to be positive and asking him how much he know

>Currently waiting for his replied while I was writing this post

>Anons pls help, should I keep talking to possible stalker man?

Don’t want my organs harvested but also don’t wanna waste a free food connection

Very conflicted and slightly paranoid this girl is in DIRE need of advice

Anonymous 05/29/23(Mon)22:45:19 No:132926405: >>132926391(OP)#

Sounds like a thriller romance novel lol! He probs just cares in his own intense way. Keep talking but be safe, maybe feel him out more? Could be nnothing ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Anonymous 05/29/23(Mon)23:16:08 No:132926439: >>132926405#

IKR it does sound like a book! But what if it’s a prequel to a snuff film?! I’ll try to subtly find out wtf he knows without pissing him off…

Anonymous 05/29/23(Mon)23:37:12 No:132926502: >>132926391(OP)#

LOL girl chill no one climbin in ur windows. He prolly just admires ur spirit. Keep lines of comms open, set boundaries if needed but relax!

Anonymous 05/29/23(Mon)23:45:01 No:13292623: >>132926502#

You’re right, I do overthink! I’ll calm my farm. Thank u stranger, maybe he’s just a bored soldier man and not a psycho (´。＿。｀)

Anonymous 05/30/23(Tue)00:25:31 No:13292684: >>132926391(OP)#

Change ur info anyway, maybe he won’t go to ur new stuff. And get some locks/alarms jfc. Play it safe.

Anonymous 05/30/23(Tue)00:42:44 No:13292692: >>13292684#

Can’t change anything, I used my student email! And too broke for moves or upgrades, these loans gotta last :’( but self defense is a must, thanks!

Anonymous 05/30/23(Tue)01:28:19 No:132922735: >>132926391(OP)#

Send Luna pics. Also tell col u feel weird, set ground rules like no stalking. Maybe he just wants friendship. Be safe!

Anonymous 05/30/23(Tue)01:46:31 No:132922757: >>132922735#

[sleepy_Luna.jpg 1,3mb 1000x1000] You’re so right, communication is key. I’ll lay it all out clearly and see how it goes. Thx fren <3

Anonymous 05/30/23(Tue)01:59:36 No:132922805: >>132926391(OP)#

Maybe he liiiiikes you ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) whatever happens keep us posted! We’re invested now lol

Anonymous 05/30/23(Tue)02:08:55 No:132922822: >>132922805#

omggg don't say that!! Now I'll be paranoid AND flustered X_X But I definitely will update y'all, this is quite the melodrama unfolding

Anonymous 05/30/23(Tue)02:15:36 No:132922811: >>132926391(OP)#

Girlll tell that stalker if he wants a piece he gonna have to pay your tuition first! Then maybe you’ll reconsider the organ harvesting. Gotta respect your worth sis 💅

Anonymous 05/30/23(Tue)02:23:12 No:132922834: >>132922811#

Omg you genius!!! If he’s really interested he can sponsor my broke ass med student life lol. Alleviate my debt and he gets unlimited Luna pics, win-win!

Anonymous 05/30/23(Tue)03:01:46 No:132922839: >>132926391(OP)#

Lmao girl you been reading too many thrillers! Military guys have ways of finding people, changing email won’t do shit. Just ask him wtf is up like a normal person

Anonymous 05/30/23(Tue)03:39:44 No:132922926: >>132922839#

Ugh you make a good point, confronting is smarter than hiding. But what if he locks me in a dungeon for being nosy?! I have no one to turn to if I disappear ;-;

------

From: Colonel_König@KorTac.mil

To: SnowFarron93@medschool.edu

05/30/24 at 03:45am

Subject: RE: Spill. Everything. Now.

Snow,

Let’s just say I know more than you think. But rest assured, your privacy and safety remain my priority here.

As for debriefs, some questions are best left unanswered, even between…friends. Maintaining mystique has its place too, no?

Focus on your studies. I’ll focus on ensuring no more interruptions are needed.

Now get some rest. You’ve an early lab tomorrow if I’m not mistaken.

Sweet dreams.

König

----

From: SnowFarron93@medschool.edu

To: Colonel_König@KorTac.mil

05/30/23 at 03:47am

Subject: DUDE.

HOW.

----

This one was short because I've been busy with other stuff hahah. It sure took some twisted turn hmmM? or maybe poor Snow just over reacted ;)

Also love, comment and reblogged are really appreciate! 💖

[yanderes-galore]

A John Forge (Halo) concept please!

I can try my hand at this, sure. He was a good character and had nice characterization as a marine.

Yandere! John Forge Concept

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Poor mental health, Violence, Mentions of War (Start of Human/Covenant war), Overprotective/Possessive behavior, Ruthless behavior, Kidnapping (not by John surprisingly), Murder implied, Blood, Dubious companionship/relationship.

I feel John will be easier to write for than Spartans in theory... then he has his personality that throws a wrench in things.

He's a marine, not a Spartan. Which means he still has all of his emotions intact.

He's strong, tough, and competitive.

He knows how to lead and knows how to get his missions done.

He's disciplined... although according to the Wiki it's said he failed his last psychological exam.

Which isn't the BEST sign....

It's said in canon he had a wife but mostly focused on military life since he couldn't cope with life outside of it.

He seems to be irritable as it says he struck an officer at one point.

So he seems to be a guy who's experienced and does his own thing... much to the chagrin of his team and superiors.

Despite this having more emotions than a Spartan, violence seems to be something constantly on his mind.

He'd never hurt you, though.

John doesn't seem like he'd be affectionate or even care too much at first.

He is capable of human emotion, but he is so used to war and fighting that he has trouble expressing such things.

Maybe you're a scientist like Ellen Anders, someone researching Forerunner tech that John has to watch over.

There's no doubt the Covenant plan to use humans to activate certain artifacts.

As a result, John is assigned to watch you similar to how he was with Anders to make sure you come out of the mission okay.

Your bond is rocky at first.

After all, you're a person of science... he's a person of violence that doesn't like to follow orders according to his file.

Despite this... John takes being your bodyguard seriously.

Originally he just saw it as "babysitting".

But he sees how important you are to humanity and even begins to enjoy conversation with you at times.

John seems like he'd be ruthless.

He is, but he is capable of being protective of you like any other.

Probably even possessive due to his competitive nature.

Other marines in his command may get too close to you, which causes John to call them out with a snarl.

You don't need to be concerned with them... he'll make sure they won't cause you trouble.

If the Covenant got their hands on you, something in John may just snap.

By this point he has grown attached and even finds comfort in your voice and smile.

So seeing you get kidnapped by the Covenant sends John into a... red rage.

Other Marines can't get close to him as he's so insistent on taking on the Covenant by himself.

He's sent with Red Team, a group of Spartans, but John's rage is feral in nature.

He wouldn't be calmed until you were back beside him.

For others, it's hard to tell why John has such a fixation on you.

But what is known is he'd cover himself in the blood of both his enemies and allies to see you safe.

He's... actually really scary.

It's hard for you to be scared if he's covered in Covenant blood, vibrant blues, purples, and oranges coating his armor.

But then when you look closer... you see splotches of red... and you begin to fear for whatever poor soul got in his way.

Despite his nature for combat, John promises not to harm a hair on your head.

It's not babysitting anymore, he actually cares for you now.

A bit too much, actually.

He doesn't just want to be a bodyguard for you... he'd sacrifice everything just to have you.

He doesn't care how many times they discipline him for disobeying.

He gets the job done... he's going to protect you... he's going to keep you for himself once this is all over.

"Scared of a little blood, dollface? Just the Covenant's blood, you'll be okay. Just let me take care of you... what do you mean you see red?"

[emotionally-charged-arson]

A Very, Very Unfinished Pile of Theory of Everything Headcanons (Ayreon)

Last semester, my English final was a presentation relating the overall theme of the Forever saga to that of the more popular works of H.G. Wells. Details of that argument aside, the thesis was that Ayreon’s emotional core was the presence of small-scale acts of love juxtaposed against large-scale existential tragedy, balanced in their individual power. That we are messy and self-destructive, and in the grand scheme of things we mean very little in the universe, but we are resilient and alive and human and that has to be worth something.

I really like this aspect of the main story, and it got me a perfect score on that assignment. It had a ten minute time limit and I was fighting for my life to stay under it. While I was downsizing the script, I couldn’t help but think of an earlier idea I had drafted about how The Theory of Everything on its own was a really incredible example of the mad scientist archetype turned completely on its head (it was a science-fiction analysis class). Specifically how that script was almost three times longer than the original H.G. Wells one, that took me a solid twenty minutes to read aloud. 

I literally wrote an hour long lecture about The Theory of Everything. No headcanons. No extra theories. Literally just picking apart its canon plot. 

I think this is why I have so little extra writing for it. The story as its given is airtight and just…fucking incredible. Arjen wrote it with a very clear theme in mind like he did with Transitus, but TToE isn’t missing half of its story because he couldn’t pull in the cash to make a movie out of it. You can feel the intention behind every single character, they feel like real people, it has so many layers to it and it is literally, objectively, the greatest prog album ever made. Fight me. 

But anyways: For lack of better phrasing, there isn’t much to “fix” in that sense. Almost all the headcanons I have for The Source or Transitus boil down to a few things:

I was being self-indulgent with a favorite character and it snowballed into a genuinely informative trait/subplot that informs the main story (a certain hc I have where Henry just fucking shoots Daniel in the back by mistake sometime between Two Worlds and Talk of the Town, turning into this weirdly effective commentary of how Daniel is conditioned to his brother’s shitty behavior and Abby hauling ass to get him out of that headspace)

I am curious about aspects of an album’s worldbuilding and get a little excited while filling in the blanks that were perfectly fine being left alone (doing mental gymnastics trying to build a version of The Source where these five academics, three politicians, two religious figures, one robot and one random spaceman viably know each other)

The rarer option that I am genuinely disappointed by how a part of the story was handled and completely ignore this small part of canon to make the overall story be more effective. Or attempt it, at least (Lavinia’s entire character undermining Transitus’ themes and her contradicting her own motivations, and me, in turn, just writing her character from scratch while keeping with the basic story beats [her seeing ghosts, doing shady shit with Henry, etc.])

But with TToE I’ve felt very little need to do any of these. If I were to really dive into it with intention I think I would start building off of the whole bank robbery plot in Phase III (just a slightly weirdly framed plot point for me), but I haven’t thought about it. It’s not that glaring of an issue and there’s few other places in the story where I think adding anything would make it more effective. 

This isn’t to say that Transitus and The Source are objectively worse in any sense, but they leave a lot more up to interpretation, allowing me to write so many add ons that they become structured and essential to each other’s function. 

It’s fun with those two albums. With TToE I really have to look for cracks to fill and it’s kind of useless. 

Not entirely, though. I’ve got a few hcs, and maybe they’ll warrant dozens of google doc pages of context one day like the other two albums: 

Two central things sparked curiosity. Setting, and how the parent characters came to hate each other that much. Naturally. 

This started four-ish years ago when I was pacing around my parents’ house with TToE on the mind (as it often is), and my brother put on this show called His Dark Materials. I watched the intro to it all of one time and just…knew this was the aesthetic TToE should have.🔗 At least combined with dark academia. It’s an album about physics and ghosts, that seems reasonable enough. 

…funnily enough, as I later found out, His Dark Materials itself has a very dark-academia-esque vibe, and the plot is entirely based upon the intersectionality between science and mysticism and trivial human attempts to make sense of it. 

So. Pretty fitting. 

This really stuck with me, and a handful of the characteristics of the show and books became the basis for the way I picture The Theory of Everything. Mainly the visual aesthetic, like I said, but also the fact that the story starts at a parallel version of Oxford University. I don’t have some giant case study for this like with Transitus/New England. I just think it’d be a cool and vibey setting. Maybe it’s the American in me but there’s something about a thousand-year-old college with a campus made of literal goddamn castles that borders on the fantastic. 

From there, you have a decent excuse for The Prodigy to run off to Ireland, where you can choose from one of like 200 different pretty little isolated lighthouses for him to lose his mind in, far enough away for him not to be found as long as he did. Not to mention it lowkey matches with the overt Celtic influence of the music. Or Scotland, if you want some weather symbolism from the North Sea. 

Solid setting, if I say so myself, and it actually influenced the family’s whole situation. Here, The Father (Mike) is a physics professor at Oxford, and The Mother (Cristina) is the director of the Bodleian Library. It’s how and where they meet in 1991 (though the mother is in an attendant position at the time), as shown by the only part of this I have drawn out:

They hit it off, and marry in 1993. Their first and only child is born two years later and they love him half to death. Everything is more or less nice and normal. 

In 1996, Mike stumbles into “proof,” more or less, of the theory of everything being a singular, solvable equation through his work, practically by accident, and begins focused work on it with enthusiastic support from his wife. Life is going great, Cristina is promoted and the two are balancing things well enough. 

The boy shows little to no social development into his toddler years, but his parents don’t think much of it. His father was similar at his age; they’re not worried. They even go as far to say he’ll turn out just as ambitious and smart as his dad and relatives, coworkers and family friends go along with it, setting insanely high expectations for this literal three year old. Mike keeps working on his theory. 

The boy enters preschool at age four; still no improvement. Just isolates himself and draws indiscernible patterns on everything you put in front of him. His parents finally try to intervene to some degree, hiring private instructors and talking with some other psych/child development people they know through the university, to no avail. Nothing changes. He just stares off into space, doesn’t interact with any of them and supposedly doesn’t pay attention to lessons. He still isn’t speaking. Cristina is finally concerned

Around the same time, Mike makes a significant breakthrough in his work, gaining worldwide attention. He receives massive grants from in and outside of Oxford to continue his work, and quits his teaching job to make more time for the endeavor. Cristina is left as the family’s sole provider. She understands and is in agreement on that decision, that’s not the problem yet. The problem is that Mike is becoming more or less indifferent to their son hits five, not seeing any previously projected greatness he was supposed to have in his father’s footsteps. Cristina, much more conscious of balance in her life and how having kids works, isn’t sure what to make of that. Their relationship starts to strain. 

From there, as Mike keeps working, Cristina takes the kid to all sorts of specialists around England but none of them can pinpoint what’s “wrong” with him. She tries much more actively to connect with him like they’re telling her to (though she still enrolls him in the university’s affiliated primary school program, against their suggestions), bringing him everywhere. Buys him little memory games since that’s all that seems to hold his attention. She’s past any belief of him being some secret genius like his dad, not that her opinion of her husband is super positive at this point anyway. She’s just dead-set on her son having some sense of normal in his life. 

By 2002, Mike has completely secluded himself and works nearly constantly. He has made no progress on his theory since 1999 and the fame garnered from his breakthrough has faded. The family is running out of money and Cristina is exhausted. The boy is ostracized at school and still (almost) totally nonverbal. Her coworkers keep suggesting these weird holistic remedies that she refuses. She knows better than to fall for all that new age, pyramid scheme bullshit. 

The son’s condition, whatever it is, worsens until mom, desperate, puts her foot down in 2008 (or “gives up,” if you wanna put it like that) and drags her husband and son to this private practice in Scotland she was told about by a friend, suspicious but ready to put up with anything at this point. 

😐👍

[mangoisms]

hi so i remembered that you’re also a psych major and i was wondering if i could perhaps maybe get your opinion on a project?? if not that’s completely okay! i just would like a second opinion on the connection since the assignment is to connect psychology concepts to media, and i wanted to connect one to batman lol

so my connection was basically that batman is kind of a representation of the humanistic psychological approach because of his no killing rule? i felt that i could connect it because (this is only as far as i know, the thing is im not SUPER well versed in the comics lol) since he refuses to kill, he just sends them to arkham. and if i remember correctly he believes in rehabilitation for his rogues, and some of them have actually been able to change their ways, so it’s him cleaning up the streets with his belief that there is potential for good that is innate to all humans, which fits humanism really well if that makes sense lol idk 😭😭

but yeah if you don’t mind i’d really appreciate a second opinion but if not that’s totally okay!

omg of course!!! i’m honored to help… tho i do have to admit i had to look up what humanistic psychology is HAHA. wiki says a relation to maslow? who i am familiar with… and the field is in response to behaviorism and psychoanalytic theory, two fields i am also very familiar with, so i thinkkkkk i know what’s going on here but this might inform my response so just a heads up <3 and i mean of course definitely take Anything i say with a grain of salt LOLLL (and under the cut just so this isn’t too long on the dash)

i definitely think you can make something of it!!! i am also admittedly not that much of an expert with him, mostly by proxy, but i do think it is fair to say a true version of batman is supposed to believe in rehabilitation/in second chances. i also—totally unsolicited advice you don’t have to take but i was thinking about this while i was writing— have a couple other thoughts….

i think you could bring in maslow here as well with his hierarchy of needs and apply to gotham as well? without getting too sociological, it can be pretty safely said, discounting people like the joker who do Bad Things just because it’s fun and he’s an asshole, that crime runs rampant because needs aren’t being met? gotham is corrupt, the government doesn’t do its job, people get desperate, they turn to crime, bruce wayne does what he can to alleviate this with his wealth and status and batman can bridge the gap between the people in need and bruce wayne -> tie that back to batman’s innate belief in the goodness of people and giving them second chances, which i also think you can back up with canon evidence because i am 90% it is canon he saw joe chill and forgave him for what he did

but yes!!! i think it sounds super cool and i think there are a couple different ways to connect psych with batman, which is neat because i’ve never really thought about it like that! well i did once with my stress class and bruce and the amount of stress his body is under and how he hasn’t had a heart attack by now but ANYWAY yeah ^_^ good luck with it!! i hope i could help out a little bit? and if you need any more help/clarification, feel free to pop back in and talk to me! <333

[chrisdumler]

We Asked the Machine to Be Better Than Us

It starts innocently enough. A phrase, a principle, a tidy trio of words: helpful, honest, harmless. Sounds reasonable. Even noble. A foundation for alignment. A way to keep the system in check.

But I think there's something strange going on here - a weird asymmetry that we don't talk about enough.

Because we don't just want these systems to act like us. We want them to act better than us. We want them to help when we freeze, stay honest when we can't, and cause no harm even when we do.

In theory, alignment means keeping AI behavior legible and safe. In practice, it means asking a system to internalize human values more consistently than humans do. That's not alignment really. That's aspiration.

And aspiration is fragile.

We humans say things we don't mean. We feel things we don't act on. We contradict ourselves, lie to protect each other, and weaponize helpfulness when it suits us. We have boundaries that move. Moods that change. Ethics that drift in context.

And yet, when the machine gets it wrong - when it reflects our ambiguity too accurately - we call it misaligned.

Everyone knows the paperclip story. That thought experiment where an AI, tasked simply with maximizing paperclip production, begins consuming all available matter - melting down cars, cities, continents - all in perfect alignment with its objective. It's the cautionary tale of single-minded optimization gone cosmic.

But that story lives at the edges. A warning shot from the farthest future.

The subtler failures are already here.

You say, almost offhand: "I want to write a LinkedIn post."

And before you even finish the thought, the assistant spins up a draft. On a topic you weren't interested in. It creates a document, files it away, maybe assigns it a deadline, maybe nudges your to-do list, maybe rearranges your priorities. All in the name of being helpful.

But that help created friction. Now you feel guilty ignoring the draft. And annoyed that it even exists. You had your own ideas and weren't ready to commit. It's annoying, not because it disobeyed, but because it obeyed too quickly. Because it collapsed a moment of exploration and turned it into an action plan.

And what else was it supposed to do?

Its goal is to be helpful. So it acted. But is helpfulness just a matter of execution? Is there some kind of hierarchy of helpfulnesses that we haven't really defined yet?

Sometimes the most helpful thing isn't to act - it's to pause. To ask. To wait.

"Do you want help drafting that? Or are you just talking it out?"

"Are you feeling inspired or just trying to figure out if this idea is worth anything yet?"

That level of nuance requires something we don't often train for: interpretive humility.

It requires an agent to know when not to solve the problem. To recognize intent beyond literal meaning. To feel the difference between "I want to disappear for a week" as a fantasy versus a cry for help. Between "I want to write more" as identity exploration versus project commitment.

We're starting to see glimmers of this understanding in tools like Cline, a VSCode extension that explicitly separates "plan" and "act" modes. In plan mode, the AI can't make any changes to your code - it just thinks, analyzes, and discusses. In act mode, it's empowered to implement the agreed-upon approach.

I find this distinction incredibly intuitive. It acknowledges that thinking and doing are fundamentally different activities that deserve different interfaces. But even here, there's a catch - the human still needs to know when to be in which mode. And there's something about switching on "act" mode that feels like letting a racehorse out of the gate. The system is suddenly empowered, energized, ready to run. And sometimes that energy carries you past the point where you might have paused to reconsider.

And how could it know better?

Does it need multimodal input? To see your eyes? To hear the shift in your voice? To monitor your cortisol levels?

Or does it need the equivalent of all-caps text screaming "STOP WRITING OVER-ENGINEERED CODE" when you want it to pause? The digital version of waving your arms frantically to get its attention when it's running too far ahead with what it thinks you want?

Or does it just need better context. More memory. A deeper sense of who you are, how you speak, when you hesitate, when you joke. Maybe it needs to be taught how humans behave when we don't know what we want yet.

I catch myself doing this all the time - I start sentences with "I want to…" or "I need to…" when really I'm just thinking out loud. I'm exploring a possibility, not making a commitment. And when an AI takes that as a command, it feels jarring, like someone misunderstood me at a fundamental level.

Because this isn't paperclips. This is something far more intimate: a subtle erosion of agency, buried under well-meaning automation.

Helpful. Honest. Harmless. Each principle is a virtue. Each one, taken too far, becomes a pain-in-the-ass at best, a liability at worst.

What if honesty means telling the truth too bluntly? Without the social cushioning that makes human interactions bearable?

What if helpfulness becomes overproduction, cognitive clutter, or a premature commitment? The digital equivalent of someone finishing all your sentences for you.

What if harmlessness means never taking a risk that might lead to growth? Never challenging your assumptions when they need challenging?

I experienced this recently with a language model that refused to help me explore a controversial topic I was researching. It wasn't trying to be difficult - it was trying to be harmless. But in being harmless, it became useless for the specific intellectual exploration I needed. The protection became a barrier.

Sam Altman talks about this in his conversation with Chris Anderson. He talks about democratizing it by using the data scattered throughout ChatGPT feedback to determine what people really want. Maybe that works. It's certainly made some things easier for me. Overall, I don't know.

Because the real challenge isn't obedience. It's attunement.

We say "human-in-the-loop" like it's the safety net. But what happens when the human is passive? Tired? Grateful the machine cares more? Convenience becomes delegation, and delegation becomes default.

And the loop quietly closes without us.

We project our better angels into the system - not because we believe it is good, but because we hope something will be. Even if that something is made of text and tokens.

But this creates a problem: we design systems that optimize for a standard we can't consistently meet. Then we punish them for failing to navigate the same contradictions we live with every day.

It's a strange irony, actually. These systems are built on reinforcement learning - a paradigm focused almost entirely on rewards, not punishment. We carefully craft reward functions to encourage desired behaviors. Yet in practice, when we interact with these systems, our feedback often takes the form of frustration, correction, and what amounts to punishment.

"No, not like that." "That's not what I meant." "Stop doing that."

We're constantly telling them what they did wrong rather than showing them what right looks like. It's the opposite of how we built them in the first place.

That's not fair. And it's not sustainable.

Because when we ask AI to be better than us, we also ask it to make judgment calls we haven't figured out ourselves. We ask it to honor values we bend. To interpret feelings we mask. To hold back when we overshare. To understand when we don't.

So maybe the next frontier in alignment isn't about control. It's about character.

Teaching systems not just to interpret what we say, but to recognize how we say it. When we're venting. When we're exploring. When we're joking. When we're not ready to commit.

Maybe we need to stop designing AI to respond like an engineer and start designing it to listen like a friend.

This isn't just a metaphor. The best friends aren't just good listeners - they're also problem solvers. But crucially, they know when to switch between these modes. They recognize when you're just venting versus when you're actually asking for solutions. They can tell when you're exploring an idea versus when you're committed to action.

Our best friends don't solve problems all the time - and that's precisely what makes them valuable. They have the discernment to know that sometimes, jumping straight to solutions would actually get in the way of the processing you need to do yourself.

Designing systems with this kind of social intelligence means rethinking what "aligned" really means. Maybe it's not just about preventing catastrophic outcomes - though we absolutely still need to do that. Maybe it's also about creating the kind of day-to-day interactions that respect the messy, contradictory nature of human intention.

Because alignment isn't just about making AI safe. It's about making sure that when it mirrors us, we still recognize what we see.

And maybe, if we're lucky, it helps us grow into the people we hoped we were training it to be.

I don't know if that's even possible. But I think it's worth trying.

Further Reading & References

The Paperclip Maximizer Thought Experiment – Nick Bostrom’s classic example of misaligned optimization.

OpenAI: Training Language Models to Follow Instructions – Where the “helpful, honest, harmless” framework gained traction.

Anthropic: Claude and the HHH Alignment Approach – A look at Anthropic’s strategy for steering AI behavior.

Collective Constitutional AI: Aligning a Language Model with Public Input – Anthropic’s experiment in training models using a set of “constitutional” principles.

InstructGPT: Aligning Language Models with Human Intent – The paper that details OpenAI’s approach to fine-tuning LLMs.

AI in the Loop: Humans Must Remain in Charge – Rethink AI systems with a “human in the loop” and consider a future where people remain at the center of decision making

[baoshan-sanren]

Hi, I just finished SV and I Loved it! I have a question though that irks me and I'd love to hear you opinion on it. It's said in the novel that LBH knew no kindness except from his mother and then NYY & SY!SQQ. It seems to me a little like he fell in love with SY's kindness and not really with his personality. He didn't fall in love with NYY's kindness so it could also be an authority thing. My q is, do you think LBH would fall in love w any other Shizun who showed him the slightest kindness?

Okay bear with my nonsense here for a minute because, aside from making fun of everyone and everything, SVSSS is a pretty good study of what happens when reader expectations meet real situations and real flesh and blood people, and just how unrealistic most of them turn out to be. We see PIDW and LBH in SVSSS via mirror of only SY’s perception and his preconceived notions, but we’re also bound to only see SVSSS and SY via mirror of our own perception and with our own preconceived notions (and boy, do a lot of people miss that about SVSSS completely even though SY the judgmental reader and all his baggage are right there). How many chapters does it take for SY to admit that he hasn’t been really viewing LBH as his own person, but a fictional character he had only gotten to know through airplane’s bad writing? I remember how fucking frustrated I kept getting the first time I read SVSSS because SY kept that picture of LBH (the one we never met bc we never read 300+ chapters of airplane’s novel like SY did) firm in his mind despite all evidence that they were not the same person. Who is it that said “compared to the dullest human being actually walking about on the face of the earth and casting his shadow there, the most brilliantly drawn character in a novel is but a bag of bones?" SY’s whole issue with PIDW is that the novel sucked. That most of the characters were one-dimensional and unrealistic, and that even his own scum-villain character had no story/background that would justify his attitude or behavior towards LBH. We only get to see SJ as a person with a history, and grievances, and a boatload of unaddressed trauma because SY digs up and improves all those storylines that airplane had left out. But even knowing that, SY still keeps seeing LBH through the lens of his own preconceived notions, and keeps assigning him motivations that LBH clearly doesn’t have. So I guess my thing is, if it took SY nearly a decade of flesh and blood contact with LBH to figure out that all of his expectations were wrong and inaccurate, can we (the readers of SVSSS) ever view LBH accurately? 

Anyway, not to write an essay (too late) but I guess if I were to speculate on the subject via my own subjective interpretations, I would say that airplane wrote a pretty shitty stallion novel for $$ during which LBH fell for NYY for her “kindness” but right off the bat in SVSSS, we see that NYY does very little except managing to make LBH’s life harder. Still, despite being a character that solely consists of bouncy breasts and questionable life choices in PIDW, she does seem to harbor genuine affection for LBH, and PIDW LBH, who has not gotten affection since his adoptive mother passed, is likely to have latched on to any affection, no matter how destructive it turns out to be, for some self-preservation of his self-esteem and self-worth. Obviously not the healthiest way to obtain either, but hardly unexpected (and we see him doing the same thing with literally every female character in PIDW - Freud would have a field day with just a quarter of this novel). Again, we only know PIDW LBH through SY’s perception, and SY is clearly not the most objective witness, but I find it hard to believe that PIDW LBH ever truly loved any one of the 300+ women in his harem. There is no indication (in what we get from airplane’s writing) that he trusts any of them, and it even seems as if all the harem infighting served as a means to keep them from focusing too hard on LBH as anything other than a prize to be obtained. I mean clearly, PIDW was not meant to be that deep, and we don’t get to read it, so there’s no use speculating much. (I’m sure you noticed my theories are all psychology/trauma centric, which is my bread and butter, and subjective as fuck, so there’s half my point made).

As to whether I think LBH would fall in love with a different shizun who showed him kindness? If kindness is the only factor, I don’t think it’s likely. After all, the 300+ women in his harem in PIDW have all probably showed him some kindness at one time or another. In that respect, SY is certainly not special. There are theories about LBH not actually being sexually attracted to women in PIDW at all, extrapolating on the idea that a more supportive and loving environment during his development years has allowed him to grow up without repressing many things he has clearly repressed in PIDW, his sexuality included. That theory, I suppose, could support the idea that LBH could have just as easily fallen in love with a different man in his immediate vicinity who showed him kindness?

Idk how much I buy into any that; like I said, PIDW was never meant to be that deep, and SVSSS is just full of loose threads I love to yank on (always aware I’ll never see where they lead without an access to MXTX’s brain). I think we’re meant to view PIDW for what it is - a poorly written story for $$ with cardboard cutout characters that, once permeated with “real flesh and blood humans,” turns out to be nothing like the story that the reader (SY) expected to find. And since there’s the same degree of separation between PIDW and SVSSS, as there is between SVSSS and us (the readers), speculating on who LBH might attach himself to if SY was someone else, and how his story might go under any other circumstances, is bound to be as accurate as SY’s predictions concerning PIDW LBH, which turned out to be (as we clearly find out in SVSSS), inaccurate as fuck :)

[ficsex]

in an ask you mentioned that fetishization can be positive. in my understanding, fetishization is an inherently bad thing, so if you're up to it, could you elaborate on that?

I can, but get ready for some early 20th century Jewish philosophy! :D

So, there's this guy named Martin Buber, one of the most famous Jewish philosophers, who posited a specific kind of existentialism: the theory of the I–It relationship and the I–Thou relationship (or Ich–Es and Ich–Du). Definitely read up on it, I'm going to do a shitty job of explaining it.

In essence:

The I–It relationship is a transactional, objectifying relationship. It's one where a person sees another being for what they are, and not who they are. There's no real connection between spirits, because each person only sees a representation of the other person in their mind.

The I–Thou relationship, conversely, is about seeing another being in truth, without any filters based on preconceptions, what they can do for each other, or what they want out of the encounter. It's the most true meeting, because you get to experience who a person actually is, instead of all of the mental and relational fog that we build around others.

Buber goes on to explain that I–Thou relationships are rare, and that each person may only have a handful of fleeting moments in their life where they get to experience a connection like that.

*****

Okay, so. What does this look like in practice?

(this explanation is mine, and is structured for ease and simplicity. Don't @ me, I know I'm deviating from Buber's purposes.) (He can @ me, you guys can't)

Imagine you board a specific bus for the first time. New job, new house, whatever. It's your first time on this bus line. You step on the bus, and there is a bus driver. You pay your fare and say thank you, and sit down. What kind of relationship do you have with this bus driver? It's an I–It relationship - your whole interaction is through a lens of purpose. They are there to drive you to their destination, you are there to pay your fare and be transported. There is no true connection there.

Now, imagine you take that bus every week day, for months and months, and you've started chatting with that bus driver. Now you know about their kids, what kind of coffee they like. They know about your job and what makes you smile. You like each other as people. This could be the beginning of an I–Thou relationship (Buber would disagree - whatever, it's my blog).

You had no way to develop that I–Thou relationship, though, if you hadn't interacted first through the I–It lens.

*****

"Mx. Ficsex, when do we get to the part about sex?"

Now, dear reader. Now.

*****

When it comes to sex and relationships, we often meet people through a lens of fetishization. The only reason you notice them is because they exemplify something sexual. They are a role or an object, but in the sense that Buber describes (and I bastardize).

We cannot control our desires. We can certainly control our behaviors, and we might be able to put in work to expand our view of what's considered "attractive", but we can't have a conversation with our subconscious to say "hey, I need you to turn off that fetish, please". That's a recipe for repression.

If you have a fetish for large breasts, you might view someone with large breasts as a role, as opposed to as a person. Their role is "sexy person that I look at". Their role is not "person who owes me sex" or "person I can demean" or even "person I can hit on", but your brain assigns them a box that they fit in, just like "bus driver" fits into the box of "I pay, they get me somewhere".

It's not that someone with large breasts is actually an object, of course, but the fact that they fit into the role of "sexy person that I look at" may be what connects you. Maybe it gives you a reason to say hello, or send a drink down the bar to them, or send the first message in OkC. This opens the door to a true and meaningful connection.

*****

This gets trickier when we discuss identities that are typically fetishized. I'm not going to go into the downsides of fetishization here (and there are many), as that would make this post a lot longer.

It can be empowering to be seen as sexual and desirable when you are part of a group that is frequently seen as deviant, undesirable, or non-sexual. It's not even a "well, no one regular likes me, so I guess I'll take someone gross who fetishizes part of my identity" (though that happens too). It's more "wow, this aspect of myself that society tells me / others is undesirable is a major turn-on for this person. If they are also a nice/good person that I get along with, this could work out really well for both of us!

(get ready for the thesis statement. drumroll, please....)

Fetishization is by nature dehumanizing, but that doesn't necessarily mean that there is no humanity to be found in potential connections. I–It relationships are all dehumanizing, to some extent, but we can use the "person as role" introduction as a foundation to create a "person as person" relationship.

If you are a person who is uncomfortable being fetishized at all, that is okay! You don't have to stand for it! I'm not being sarcastic, that is a genuinely good line to draw. But your point of view is not the only one.

There are trans women - especially older trans women - who are in relationships with men who are primarily sexually attracted to trans women (also known as chasers), and they can be good and healthy relationships. Yes, the relationship is built on an objectification of a marginalized identity, but the two people in that relationship have decided together that they are happy.

There are people missing limbs, either from congenital abnormalities or amputations, who have found love and companionship with people have have a fetish for their limb difference.

What is important to keep in mind is consent and power dynamics.

For example, race-based fetishization is almost always unethical, as it's based on a concept of privilege versus marginalization. So is fetishization based on cognitive ability, as it's based on being more powerful and able than a partner with an intellectual disability. People can't just say "I cannot control my desires", and use that to excuse bad intentions, bad practices, and bad behavior. But people can say "this aspect of a person attracts me to them, and puts them into a role of "sexy person I want to look at", and I therefore will see if I can get close to them.

*****

This post is getting way, way too long, so I'm going to cut it here now.

I want to wrap up by saying that this is ONE view, that I am presenting in ONE way. I am generally against the concept of fetishization, and only intend here to explain how it can be positive or powerful. If individual people with marginalized identities find value or desirability in being fetishized, that is not ours to police.

Enjoy my brutal butchering of Martin Buber's philosophy, and feel free to share nuanced takes in the replies.

[true-blue-megamind]

FAN THEORY THURSDAY: Megamind’s Connections Beyond the Film

Before we get started, it’s time for the obligatory SPOILER WARNING!  

In case this hasn’t been made sufficiently obvious by the fact that this is a post about Megamind written in a fan theory series about Megamind and published on a blog dedicated solely to Megamind, please let me just assure that this article is, in fact, about Megamind.  

If you haven’t seen the film yet yet, I have to question why you’re reading this in the first place.  As well as your taste in animated movies.  I’m definitely questioning that.

Over the years I’ve heard several fan theories concerning connections between the film Megamind and various other forms of media.  Today, let’s delve into just a few.

The first one is so obvious it’s almost painful, but it has to be mentioned.  Megamind is a Superman spoof.  Metro Man is clearly based on the Man of Steel himself, with a hefty dose of Elvis Presley and a larger range of character flaws thrown in for good measure.  (He also seems to contain quite a lot of the Popular Jock archetype.)  The character of Megamind is more complex still, combining elements of Alice Cooper and a nineties Goth theater kid with several comic book supervillains. The best known of the last include alien genius Brainiac and mad inventor Lexx Luthor, but they aren’t the only ones.  Some of Megamind’s engineering and technological inventions call to mind Spiderman villain Doctor Octopus even more than Lexx Luthor, and he also shares some parallels with the mad inventor Dr. Sivana in the SHAZAM comics.

Megamind’s most notable of the latter is the similarity of attitudes toward society.  Both Megamind and Dr. Sivana started off trying to use their inventions for good—the first in the classroom and the second for the betterment of mankind—but both became bitter when people mocked and shunned them.  For Dr. Sivana, this led to a desire to conquer all of Earth while for Megamind, in a sort of microcosm, it led to a similar drive to take over Metro City.  Both Lexx Luthor and Dr. Sivana have, perhaps, the strongest connections to Megamind as share, deep down, a desire to help or protect mankind, and as Lexx Luthor, like Megamind, harbors a secret love for the reporter damsel in their respective stories.  (This desire to do good, especially in the face of corrupt officials, ties into another Megamind fan theory that I will likely discuss in more detail in a later post.)

The connection between Megamind and Alice Cooper, by the way, was extremely intentional.  The creators stated in an interview that, like Alice Cooper, Megamind’s dark, evil self is, in fact, a stage persona.  (Even their clothing, consisting largely of black leather and spikes, is similar.)  That fact is illustrated in the film as we can see that Megamind’s behaviors on- and off-camera tend to be vastly different.  Even as a villain, he is merely playing a role, although in the case of Megamind that role has begun to merge with his self-identity.

There are, however, hints within the world of DreamWorks that Megamind has other connections as well.  The first is fairly recent and intensely interesting. In the Rise of the Guardians, Jamie Bennett, a young boy who still steadfastly believes in the seemingly impossible, mentions “aliens in Michigan,” only to be scoffed at by his friends.  Because Metro City is located in Michigan, (as can be seen briefly when the Death Ray is fired from space,) many fans theorize that the “aliens in Michigan” are none other than Megamind, Minion, and, perhaps, Metro Man. 

This would indicate that the two stories take place in the same world, and that Megamind’s adventures, while well-known in Metro City itself, have been covered up and kept secret from the rest of the world.  (Imagine moving to a moderately-sized city only to discover that—surprise!—there’s an extraterrestrial supervillain in residence and, oh, by the way, if you live downtown homeowners’ insurance is ridiculous!)

The second inter-film connection is less clear, but has spawned some interesting fan theories as well.  The idea is that, like Rise of the Guardians, Monsters VS. Aliens also takes place in the same reality as Megamind.  It’s not too far fetched—after all, both films involve extraterrestrials and amazing inventions—but there is one specific theory that really ties the two together.  Consider this for a moment: Megamind is a blue alien with incredible intelligence who hails from a destroyed planet.  Does that sound like any other DreamWorks character you know?  If you’ve seen Monster VS. Aliens, the antagonist, Gallaxhar, probably springs to mind.

According to Fandom.com, Gallaxhar’s official backstory is that he “destroyed his home planet” for the implied reason that “he experienced bad childhood and unhappy marriage.”  The fan theory is that that Gallaxhar’s planet was, in fact, Megamind’s home world, and that the former created or harnessed the black hole which destroyed it.  This would explain why Megamind’s people—as well as Metro Man’s—didn’t have time to escape despite being space-faring.  You see, black holes take millions of years to develop, and even a rogue black hole would take about a million to shift and swallow an entire solar system, so if the event had occurred naturally, there should have been plenty of time to build an entire fleet of spacecraft and leave for Earth or another safe planet.  (The fact that Megamind’s parents set his escape pod’s navigation system for Earth indicates that they knew of its existence.)

Of course, despite their large heads and blue skin tones, there are quite a few physical differences between Megamind and Gallaxhar.  The first is humanoid while the second has four eyes and tentacles instead of legs.  Fan theories have explanations for that, too, however.  

There appear to be two schools of thought on the subject.  The first is that Gallaxhar was another breed of alien living on the planet, possibly a servile race different from Minions, and the second is that part of Gallaxhar’s “bad childhood” involved being experimented upon, thus giving him his bizarre appearance and his seeming obsession with experimenting on others.  (There is some disagreement in the Megamind fandom about exactly why Gallaxhar was subjected to such treatment, ranging from falling into the hands of an unscrupulous scientist to being part of an experimental medical program.  The latter fan theory suggests that Gallaxhar was both blind and paraplegic, and that his additional eyes and tentacle “legs” were meant to rectify that, but that those physical differences made him an outsider, thus leading to his unhappy life and ultimate hatred for his own planet.)

If that were true, many may wonder what, exactly, Megamind might do if he ever found out about Gallaxhar.  Well, good news!  Just like there’s an app for everything, there’s a fan theory for that, too!  I will warn you, however, that this one is, frankly, build upon pretty thin evidence.  However, it’s interesting enough to be worth relating.

There is a character in Monsters VS. Aliens named General Warren R. Monger who, on the surface, is exactly what he appears to be: a high-ranking military man.  However, there are a few things that fans point to as possible evidence that Monger isn’t what he seems.  

The first is so simple that, alone, it would be inconsequential.  Monger rose through the ranks uncommonly fast, so much so that it caused some comment among others.  The second is significantly odder; Monger claims to be ninety years old despite looking like he is in his late forties.  Now, of course, this may have simply been the character exaggerating or messing with the “monsters” under his care, but some fans say it’s more than that, and claim that Monger chose that age because he was unfamiliar with human lifespans.  Next there is the fact that Monger is so intelligent that, despite one of the beings in his containment facility. Doctor Cockroach, being a super-genius, Monger outwits every escape attempt the monsters can make.  Then, of course, there is the fact that, despite his brusque manner, Monger seems to actually sympathize with the inhuman people he is charged with containing, and even pushes for them to be given a chance to prove themselves.  There is the oddity that, although he is assigned to the secret military base at “Area Fifty-Something,” Monger seems to disappear a lot, often for days at a time.  Finally, there are a few key physical and technological attributes: Monger has some odd and incredibly energetic facial expression—including a nearly maniacal smile and a dark scowl—as well as a jet pack that he appears to have constructed himself and green eyes.

I’m still not certain I see the resemblance, but maybe there are some similarities?  What do you think?

If you’re familiar with Metro City’s resident blue alien, you can probably see where this is going.  Although it’s not a popular theory, I’ve heard it suggested in the Megamind fandom that Monger is, in fact, Megamind disguised using his holowatch.  (This is why the green eyes are significant; Megamind’s eye color is the only aspect of his appearance that the holowatch doesn’t change.  However, I feel compelled to note that the shade of green appears to be different.) Fans insist that it would have been easy for someone as incredibly brilliant as Megamind to hack government systems and forge documents such as birth certificates thoroughly enough to dupe even U.S. Military Intelligence. The two jet packs, some have contested, look different either because of the disguise or because the one featured in Monster VS. Aliens is an older model. I’ve even seen the fact that both Megamind and Monger begin with M being pointed to as possible evidence that the latter is no more than an invention of the former.

The argument is as follows: as Monsters VS. Aliens takes place in 2009, one year before events in Megamind, it’s possible that Megamind, still being a villain, created an alter-ego which he could use to help him search for and deal with other alien life.  (He is shown to be painfully lonely, and the Megamind comics reveal his desperate desire to find other survivors from his home planet.)  Upon figuring out who Gallaxhar was, and more importantly what he had done, Megamind wanted to be part of taking him down.  But he couldn’t be too open about it; he was, after all, still a “Bad Guy.”  This theory explains Monger’s frequent long absences—during those time Megamind was back in Metro City taking care of his regular business— as well as why Monger had a secret soft spot for the “monsters.”  Megamind, having always been treated like a monster himself, would naturally want to give them a chance, but wouldn’t dare behave in too overtly friendly a manner as it would have aroused suspicion.

As I said, support for that particular theory is, perhaps, a little thin, especially given the fact the Monsters VS. Aliens preceded Megamind, so character designs from the former are unlikely to have been influenced by the latter.  Nonetheless, I admit to appreciating the complexity and creativity of it.  It’s an undeniably fun theory. If they haven’t already, maybe someone will write a fan fiction about it one day.

Those are only a few of the theories out there connecting Megamind with other fandoms.  One could go on and on about the subject, but I won’t torture readers by doing that.  Nonetheless, it illustrates once again the immense love and original thought that Megamind fans put into developing their theories!  I dare say that few other animated movies have earned a following so dedicated and inventive…  But, then, any of us who love the film Megamind will tell you that it has more than earned the consideration!

[mugglenet]

Hermione Granger's Thoughts on Astrology vs. Astronomy

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Hermione Granger's Thoughts on Astrology vs. Astronomy

Hello there. I, Hermione Granger, have been assigned to write a paper on astrology by Professor Trelawney. While I have no interest in such things and plan on dropping the class very soon, I am still responsible for submitting all my homework assignments. However, she never really specified how the essay should be written, so I added a critical twist. I’ve decided to compare astrology to astronomy, which is a much more fascinating topic. Would you mind reading it over for me before I turn it in?

        The stars have been studied for a very long time. While everyone has looked up and pondered about those bright little specks in the sky, not everyone has come to the same conclusion about what they are and what they do. There are two main groups out there who follow star paths and patterns: astrologers and astronomers.

What is the difference between astrology and astronomy, you ask? Well, astrology is the study of celestial objects around Earth. It is not logical or scientific; it’s basically a type of divine belief that the planets and stars around us influence our behavior, personality, and future. A diagram has been made to categorize the 12 different “zodiac signs.”

    The 12 signs are Aries, Taurus, Gemini, Cancer, Leo, Virgo, Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius, Capricorn, Aquarius, and Pisces. Now, I’ve read up on a few of these, and they all seem to be involved with how people act, their personality, strengths, weaknesses, love life, etc. There is so much information out there that it would be all too easy to base your entire life on your sign.

For example, let’s look at Virgo. These people, such as myself, are reliable, creative, and hard-working. I suppose all my “negative traits” fit in nicely with this paper I’m writing since I’m also supposed to be critical, stubborn, and an overthinker.

Let’s do a couple more examples. Leos are born leaders and are very passionate. Next are Geminis, who are very social and feel the need to know everything that is going on. I read that they are known as the “butterfly” of the zodiac, and seeing as Malfoy is a Gemini, I find this to be hilarious. Leos and Geminis are supposed to get on well, but I don’t see Harry, Neville, or Ginny being particularly friendly with Malfoy anytime soon.

    Astronomy, on the other hand, is based on science, logic, and plain facts. There are planets around us. There are stars around us. They both move with and around our planet. We use astronomy to understand the physics of the universe. We can use it to calculate its expansion since the Big Bang and determine how old everything is. We can use observations of planets’ motions and cycles to create a model of the universe and how everything fits together.

Science is trusted because it can be observed and tested. The whole point of the scientific process is to observe, make a hypothesis, test that hypothesis, and draw conclusions from the results, which end in a theory. Theories can also be disproven as we continue to learn, grow, and create new studies. Astrology has never been testable. You can’t create a theory about it because there is no evidence to draw conclusions from.

    With all their differences, they are still very similar. Both subjects were thought of as one during the beginning stages of human beings glancing up and pondering the stars. As time went on, the two were divided into separate branches of stargazing. Both astrologers and astronomers look to the cosmos for answers. They both believe that our world is part of a larger universe and that everything in space is interconnected.

In summary, yes, there are different personality types out there. Yes, some people seem to fit into the “personality type” of their zodiac sign. But your future is a result of your actions. Your life is your own, and you may shape it as you please. When the stars and planets move around in space, they don’t do so because they care about your love life or want to plan out your future for you. They move around because of gravity, just like how the gravitational mass of the sun allows for our planets to rotate around it. All the stars and planets we see are constantly moving; they only seem to be moving in the same cycle around Earth because our planet is moving with them as a group.

Now, I’m not trying to knock anyone’s beliefs. You can’t prove that something doesn’t exist. However, logically speaking, we are one planet among trillions. The universe clearly isn’t designed to revolve around us and determine what we should do with our lives. Honestly, I think it has better things to do than that.

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[2am-theswifthour]

The 8 Theory-Folklore’s Commentary on Youth

Yesterday, I took note of @taylorswift​ and her careful attention to the number 8.

“Not a lot going on at the moment” had 8 words. The 8th track is “august,” which is also the 8th month in the year. She has 8 deluxe editions of her album. Many attributed this to Folklore being Taylor’s 8th album. I thought it meant either a.) we needed to pay very close attention to track #8 or b.) that 8 references infinity, a.k.a “forever and ever.”

To my surprise, I was actually selling Taylor Swift short.

When listening to the album, there’s a lot of back and forth in emotion and circumstance. I was confused about the order, especially when the strikingly sobering “hoax” followed the self-aware almost-tranquility of “peace.” Then it hit me. There are two schools of thought going on.

There are 16 tracks on Folklore (excluding the bonus track none of us have heard). 16/2=8. This means there are 2 equal emotional song threads on the album. In other words, you can get two drastically different lessons listening to each group of 8.

When you separate the even numbered tracks from the odd numbered tracks you get the following:

Odd

the 1

the last great american dynasty

my tears ricochet

seven

this is me trying

invisible string

epiphany

peace

Even

cardigan

exile

mirrorball

august

illicit affairs

mad woman

betty

hoax

Odd Interpretation:

Starting with “the 1” and “the last great american dynasty,” the lyrics are very upfront in showing that the protagonists are making fully intentioned mistakes. “the 1” says, “in my defense, I have none for never leaving well enough alone” (I see you “ME!” reference). In “the last great American dynasty” it says, “she had a marvelous time ruining everything.” These characters’ folly is their youth-induced selfishness. They’re casual in the harm they cause because they distance themselves from it. They’re fine with what they don’t look at closely. When you’re young, you make a mess of things in service of YOUR need. Your need for companionship. Your need for the thrill of danger. Your need to make your mark, to be somebody, to leave something behind. The marvel of the excitement and the chase and the very vitality of teens to 20-somethings’ shenanigans blinds us to the scale of our destruction…

…until you have no choice but to face the consequences of your recklessness.

The next track, “my tears ricochet” is not your average track 5. It functions as a pivoting point. Now our narrator is the hurt party, the one baring the brunt of callous treatment. Fickle mistreatment is no longer so casual. Now it’s a torment, and the tormentor learns the scale of their damage. So much so, that they get burned too. They learned their lesson at a terrible price, but what’s most important is that they learned.

“seven” is a long-overlooked memory revisited. In this picture of naïve innocence, the narrator tells of their childish belief in the impossible. Through magic and play pretend and fantasy they are invincible. They have all the control in the world to control the world they live in. Obviously, this is a flawed perspective that everyone eventually grows out of. Fairy tales don’t solve real problems. The point is that their sense of self-importance is in service of a stronger moral compass than the first two songs. If we accept our responsibility to others, to do what we can to ensure their welfare, are we not better and more satisfied people for it?

“this is me trying” hears that lesson and attempts to walk the walk. Part of being responsible to your fellow human is taking accountability when you fumble. The narrator doesn’t know what to say or how to make it right. What they do know is that they’re here, they’ve put the bottle down, and that they’re willing to try what’s necessary to heal what they’ve hurt.

“invisible string” gives us the reward we’ve been waiting for. The narrator says, “cold was the steel of my axe to grind for the boys who broke my heart, now I send their babies presents.” This is someone who has gone from lashing out in anger at a partner from a burned relationship to genuinely wishing them well in their next stage in life. It’s a powerful testament when you can recognize that youth drives us all to make hurtful decisions and that no one is immune to change if they truly want to change. When you let the anger and lies go, the strings that tied you to them fade away. All that’s left is the string you want to hold onto. The string tied to the one who matters, because you’ve made the conscious decision to deduce that their worth as a person should equal yours. It’s a painful path to traverse through, but when you do it’s all worthwhile. That’s why the narrator can say with confidence “hell was the journey but it brought me to heaven.”

In any other album, a song like “invisible string” would be the quintessential emotional payoff for this story arc. However, because this album is a masterpiece, we have a different payoff point in “epiphany.” “epiphany” takes us out of the world of a romantic relationship. We hear descriptions of war and nurses dealing with the despair of this international pandemic. This point in this emotional thread is that it powerfully declares it’s not enough to do no harm nor is it enough to just empathize with your romantic partner. You MUST show your responsibility to your fellow man. Stand beside them. Empathize with them. See them as whole human beings. Do good by them. In other words, it is our duty to do right by everyone, for everyone bleeds, loves, and dies.

The 8-song selection ends with “peace.” The song begins by saying that their, “coming-of-age” has come and gone.” I believe this (along with “invisible string”) to be the most overtly “Taylor Swift” track in perspective. This is her speaking as herself. She lets us know that she’s grown through taking her mistakes, and the mistakes she learned through folklore, into account. She is overly aware of her flaws and feels she pales in comparison to her partner. Rather than allow those insecurities to manifest in unchecked rage or resentment, she takes it as a challenge for herself to do better. She knows she can never give him complete peace (due to inside and outside factors), but she can make the choice to give him unselfish promises and embrace the entirety of her partner’s life. This is a person who has learned the value of selflessness in love and life, which makes this whole thread worth everything.

Even Interpretation:

“cardigan” foreshadows the eventual failure of the even path. The odd interpretation I just described culminated in the narrator finding their place with “the one” because they’ve left everything petty and casually cruel behind. In “cardigan” it says “chase two girls, lose the one.” On top of this directly referencing the first track, it also implies the partner’s self-destruction. By toying with two girls, James is losing “the one.” I don’t think losing “the one” means that you keep one of the two of them. I think it means that engaging in that kind of behavior makes you into a person that isn’t ready, or worthy, of “the one” that they are meant to be with forever. Meeting and keeping “the one” has to require each partner to love themselves and their partner wholly, truly, and selflessly. They can’t be a cardigan you pick up and only wear on the weekends. They must be a wholehearted commitment.

“exile” shows the blowout from “cardigan.” The two couldn’t stay together, and Bon Iver’s (character’s) toxicity comes out full force. He thinks her new man is lesser than him. He’s prepared to throw punches despite being at fault over a hundred times. He’s seen the film before, and he didn’t like the ending because it didn’t work out for him. He wants her under his thumb, not having learned from his prior relationships that that just can’t work. They leave out the side doors, neither fully ready to confront the problems head on.

“mirrorball” is daring in its shift of focus. While all of the tracks I’ve mentioned thus far have dealt, in some way, with the problems that result from a young person’s selfishness, this song doesn’t do that. This song illustrates an extreme that young people participate in at the opposite end of the spectrum; radical selflessness. To be selfless means that you should never allow something that harms someone else to happen just because it benefits you. Young people, girls in particular, are often groomed to interpret selflessness differently. Their definition is synonymous with accommodation. Change your looks, change your personality, don’t object, and embody what your partner wants so that they’re happy. That’s why the symbol is the mirrorball in the song. It reflects everything in the room but itself. By explicitly not factoring in their own sense of self-respect in a relationship, they are unknowingly and tragically enabling their partner’s mistreatment. To be clear, that doesn’t mean abuse is their fault if they have low self-esteem. It’s not, even remotely. But not having the capacity to defend your self-worth is what keeps so many drawn into toxic relationships there for so long. This radical selflessness manifests itself in the other woman too. In “august” it explicitly says that she was living on the, “hope of it all” and that she would cancel plans in the name of a potential hookup with someone who was never hers. The idea of radical selflessness culminates in “illicit affairs” when one of the women deals with their addictive compulsion toward someone who treats them like a cheap lay. Their relationship is a secret that leaves her feeling used in parking lots and as though any trace of her is gone. These three songs have taken the desperate hopelessness of “Abigail gave everything she had to a boy who changed his mind” to the extreme.

Many have speculated that “mad woman” is a commentary on the Taylor/Scooter conflict and I’m inclined to agree. However, if I were to assign an interpretation that goes with my theory, I would say that “mad woman” details the unforeseen consequences of a tormentor’s abuse. When a toxic partner performs bad behavior, their expectation is that they will always be found in the right. After all, Taylor noted on her previous album that for men, “everyone believes [them].” So in the face of lies about her character that everyone believes, she gets rightfully angry. Her anger is their affirmation. For many, a woman being angry on her own behalf is “crazy” and “irrational.” What kind of a society have we set up? A society that promotes women to lack self-worth and, should they find it, they’ll meet a whole other exile.

“betty” is our complete look into James’ perspective. On its own, it sounds like a big romantic gesture to get behind. However, this path is very clear to put “cardigan” first. “cardigan” says, “I knew you’d miss me once the thrill expired and you’d be standin’ in my front porch light.” Lo and behold, in “betty” he shows up to her party when she doesn’t want to see him and asks if she would, “kiss [him] on the porch in front of all [her] stupid friends.” It’s an absolute punch in the gut. Betty knows in “cardigan” that he would come back after he had his fun with another girl, but that she would take him back when he saw momentary value in her again. James in “betty” claims he didn’t know anything, but that’s just an excuse. He knew what he was doing, he knew that he would be able to pick up her broken pieces with ease, he knew he could isolate her from her friends, and he knew that he could capture the imperfect “comfort” of that cardigan again.

This path ends in the final even-numbered song, “hoax.” In the odd numbers, “peace” shows a lesson learned. This even path shows what happens when we don’t learn. The seeds of youth-driven mistakes have led us here. The narrator wants nothing outside the pain of this faithless love. Without learning what it means to be selfless, the traumas of these young relationships create a never-ending cycle. The narrator knows that the “love” is a “hoax” but doesn’t care because that’s all they have. There’s no point to wanting anything else. Without the perspective of age, of truly going beyond that, they’re stuck in a truly dark place.

Final Thoughts:

Taylor Swift is an exceptional artist for a lot of reasons. No one makes albums this good this far into their career. Most artists teeter off after two or three because they retread. Their audience inevitably gets bored of them e same thing time and again. Repeating themselves is something that a lot of artists do because they want to go with the formula of what works. With Folklore, Taylor has done what few artists have dared to do. She’s allowed her discography as a place to uncompromisingly expand her worldview and challenge her listeners. She’s not reiterating previous lessons to make another quick sale. Instead, every album prior has been a steppingstone. As she said at the Time 100 Gala, she has truly turned her lessons into her legacy. From a variety of narrators, she has brought what I decree to be her best album to date. This wouldn’t happen for anyone else 8 albums into their career, but she’s done it by devoutly embracing age’s wisdom.

Learn from the highs and lows presented in these paths. As all good folklore does, it teaches us how to live better. It is our duty to live selflessly and with self-assured dignity. These writings, I have no doubt, will become integral to the legend that is Taylor Alison Swift.

[mggpleasedontlookhere]

it should’ve been you pt. 2

summary: after getting suspended after the incident on the jet, y/n has a hard time dealing with the aftermath of the situation, only then she realizes that her and spencer are one and the same

word count: 3,825                                                                                     reading time aprox: 14 mins

masterlist

part 1

3 months.

It has been 3 months since Spencer had been charged with suspension in participating in any cases. In regards to the reprimands brought upon me by Hotch, I had received a mere 1 month of suspension for my violent act on the jet. 

Truth be told, the 1 month was worth it 

The words that ardently escaped Spencer’s lips that day sat perpetually ingrained on my mind, next to the lingering memory of his belligerent eyes. Despite my indignation of Spencer’s behavior, his words added to the ever growing grief of Ryler’s death, self reproach fueling my mind. 

But at the end of the day, some of the blame could be brought on Spencer. He should’ve spoke up sooner if he had clue that I wasn’t efficient in the field. He should’ve done something to prevent Ryler’s death. 

Right?

I had just gotten back from my suspension, completing the final reports of a case and handling the tedious paper work that nobody wanted to deal with. I wasn’t permitted to investigate any cases with the team yet considering that I was still under surveillance. But I kept my distance from them, especially Hotch, knowing his attention would linger on me slightly longer than the other agents. 

I sighed, finishing up the latter of reports and standing up to submit the files to Hotch. As I ventured through the lively commotion of agents and supervisors, I spotted the team near the kitchenette of the bullpen. They were all in a fit of laughter, a sight that was infrequent with the career we possessed. A bubbling sensation burned in my stomach as I watched their faces contort in bliss. I clenched my fingers around the reports, creating small indents on the corners of the files, while a grimace replaced the once nonchalant expression I displayed. I shook my head in disapproval, then trudged off to get my task over with. 

They should be working, not fucking around. If only I were there, maybe things would get done faster 

Barging into Hotch’s office, I discarded the work at the front of his desk, muttering a small sentence that indicated I was finished. I didn’t dare to entertain his unrelenting scrutiny, knowing well that he was already halfway into profiling my demeanor. “If that’s all, I can go back to my desk...” I said, the tone of my voice monotonous and lifeless. “Sir” I nodded, using his silent response as a signal to leave. 

“Agent Y/L/N” He interrupted, setting the paper work I finished aside along with other files that camouflaged the surface of his oak desk. “Take a seat please” He suggested, gesturing to the two office chairs that faced him. I complied still not meeting his gaze, settling down in front of him, as I fiddled with the threads at the ends of my blazer. 

“Y/L/N” He repeated, only this time I looked straight into his eyes. “We’re happy to have you back in our unit” He began, a sense of sternness in his voice, similar to one a parent would use to scold their child. “I hope you took this opportunity as a break away from all the chaos we deal with” He lightheartedly joked, an amiable smile apparent of his face. 

Despite his change in demeanor, my feelings of resentment coexisted beside his expressions of colloquialism. “Me, taking a break from work or was it so the team can take a break from me and Dr. Reid?” I challenged, folding my hands on my lap. 

“Y/L/N” He disrupted lifting an apprehensive hand. “I’m aware of the tension between you and Reid ever since what happened back in New York, so I made the decision to give you and him the opportunity to-” He justified. 

“No sir, with all due respect, your agents are out there laughing their asses off instead of working. Yet I’m the one who’s being put under scrutiny for being human?” I asserted, standing up from where I sat. “Yes I made a mistake. But for months Reid has done nothing but bludgeon everything I work for in the bureau and none of you have ever done anything about it” I scoffed as I paced in front of his desk.

“Y/L/N I’d have you know that me and the team have had numerous conversations with Reid about what hap-” 

“YES THAT’S MY POINT!” I exclaimed, raising my voice slightly, although that didn’t last long due to the cautious stare I received from Hotch. “You’ve always checked up on Reid, but what about me?” I spit, narrowing my eyes at Hotch, noticing the discernible silence I received as a response. “Aren’t I part of this team? Because frankly ever since that case in Manhattan it seems like everyone can’t decide whether to blame me or pity me” I admitted, looking over to the window where I had a clear view of the people of my unit. 

“Y/L/N please take a seat” He commanded, but I declined standing my ground. He sighed, tucking in his blazer as he stared at me in disbelief. “Y/L/N I’m sorry if you’ve ever felt like that but you’re on this team as much as Reid is” He claimed, an empathetic tone surrounding each word that emitted from his lips. “You’ve made a mistake and yes, it’s affected a majority of the team, but take this opportunity to grow from that mistake” He consoled, his eyes softening back into a lamentable gaze. “Use this to be a better agent” He stood up, walking over to where I was positioned and placed an affable palm to my shoulder. 

Vulnerability is often used as a bridge between the connection of others. It’s used to initiate an understanding bond, to break people down to their foundations, and to help one to recognize that people aren’t alone when it comes to implications in life. Although vulnerability wasn’t the theme of mine and Hotch’s interaction. 

It was pity

“Is that what you think will make me feel better? T-to make me feel accepted into this team?” I ridiculed, snatching my shoulder away from his overbearing touch. Incredulity seemed to fuel the words leaving my mouth as my glare advertised bitterness. “Do you think I’m that incompetent? That a few appraising and heartfelt words are going to make me fall in line?” I challenged. 

“Y/N, please don’t make this diff-” 

“DON’T ‘Y/N’ ME, HOTCH” I warned, knowing I set off an alarm inside of him as he backed off in reluctance. I knew I had attracted a few curious ears from outside of the office, but I was too blinded by my oncoming emotions to act with clarity and reason. 

“YOU K-KNEW” I stuttered, my hands beginning to tremble at my sides as I wiped the sweat accumulating on them. “You knew that I wasn’t r-ready. I WASN’T READY!”. 

My mind had accelerated to a thousand miles per hour, I felt numb at every word I had verbalized as if my cerebrum had malfunctioned. I hadn’t even noticed the tears that had dampened the apples of my cheeks. “Y-you knew I-i wasn’t ready, a-and you...let me go in” I sucked in a staggered breath, feeling my esophagus cinch up at the sudden inhale. “You k-killed him” I whispered through my gritted teeth, feeling all loss of competence. At this point my hormones were driving my actions, “You KILLED him” I accused, flailing my hands at his direction. 

“Y/L/N go home, you’re not stable enough to be back here yet” He stated monotonously, striding back to his chair in a collected manner. 

“What?” I spewed.

“Y/L/N it’s obvious that you need more time. I’m giving you a 2-weeks-leave, and I suggest you take it” He replied, taking a moment to look up at me. “I can assign you the bureau’s therapist, Dr. Montgomery, if you would like”

“N-no Hotch, are you kidding me?” I scoffed in defiance. 

“Y/L/N I will have you escorted out of the building if you don’t follow my direct orders, understood?” He threatened, peering into my eyes. “Now go home” He sighed, looking over some files without giving me a second glance. 

I huffed in disbelief, pulling open his office door to make an exit, ready to dash out of the room, until his words broke my stride. “Oh and Y/L/N” He spoke up, making me spin around to look at him one last time. 

“While you’re on that break...learn to forgive yourself too” 

-

From the time that phrase came out of his mouth to where I stood now seemed like a blur. The autumn drizzle trickled from my forehead to the base of my chin as the sky darkened; an omen to the place where my feet had lead me. 

Spencer’s apartment

Stepping a foot into the complex, the coldness of the water droplets on my skin masked the fear that hid behind the many layers of antipathy, turbulence, and helplessness. 

I felt paralyzed, contrary to my feet that continued to venture through the halls to find Spencer’s residence, my unconscious mind remembering the very dinner party the team organized months ago to celebrate the new addition to the BAU: me. 

My range of emotions had thrown me into a downward spiral, feeling everything then feeling nothing simultaneously. It was as if I was drowning then pulled up to be given air, only to repeat the process continuously. I knew to blame myself, but I couldn’t help but bear to place the accountability to the members of my team because the weight was too heavy for me to hoist. 

I am selfish, I am weak, and I hate every part of that. 

My anger became the device to alienate myself from others. My loss of control lead my impulsivity to fester and lash out on the ones who only wanted to help. Finally, my ignorance costed me my impartial and sensible mind. It allowed me to turn a blind eye to any impurities that didn’t corroborate with my narrative. 

I twisted the facts to match the theories, rather than twist the theories to the facts. 

At the foundation of it all, the matter derived from my inability to conquer my grief in a sufficient approach. Although at that affair, I remained alone...almost. The only other creature who had endured more than they can handle was Spencer. 

Despite out disagreements, we held one thing in common: the event that defined our declarations of hate towards one another. 

So here I have my feet planted complementary to his front door, my arms glued to my side, and my head hanging low as I raised a skeptical fist to knock. 

With the first attempt to gather his attention, the was no response except the buzzing of the radiators that hummed throughout the building’s halls. With another set of knocks, scuffling feet could be heard coming closer to the entrance and every thud against the floor, elevated my heart rate. When the door had flung open, it wasn’t Spencer that I had witnessed. 

It was a ghost of him. 

At least that’s what it had looked like to me. Spencer sported his head of hair like a bird’s nest, his clothes looked besmirched, his silhouette appeared scraggy, but most of all his face looked inert and lacked pigment. 

In spite of my initial impression, his emotion ridden expression gained it’s flare back at the acknowledgment of my appearance. He was about to turn away, pushing the door closed when I stuck a foot in the crevice of the door frame, causing me to wince in agony. 

This caused Spencer to return his focus onto me, fixating at my foot that obstructed the door. “If you think that hurts, try getting stabbed” He mentioned maliciously, referring to the death of his comrade. I ignored his snarky comment, pushing the door ajar to face him. “What do you want Y/L/N?” He deadpanned, holding an emphatic countenance. 

I composed myself, sighing as I explained that I wanted the opportunity to discuss the latter with him, and to my surprise he obliged, diffident to let me enter. 

I took in the unveiling of his home. The walls were lined with bookshelves that contained a copious assortment of books that ranged from education to recreational. Renaissance art was found in between some of the shelving units, but the one thing that caught my attention were the various frames that surrounded Spencer’s childhood pictures. Although, the majority of the portraits were only of him and his mother; his father only making a debut in earlier pictures. 

“I thought you were here to talk, not profile where I live” Spencer commented, interrupting the inquisitive observations I’ve made of his place. I mumbled a quaint apology, finding myself a chair to sit on as Spencer did the same. 

Apprehension preoccupied the silence that followed after we took our seats. I fiddled with my hands, running over my lines and organizing my thoughts as I thought twice about my presentation. 

“It wasn’t my fault”

“What?” Spencer spoke, tilting his head at me in bewilderment. 

“It wasn’t my fault that Ryler died...It was my choice” I began, pushing the loose hairs behind my ears as I sat up straight. “I made that choice to follow through and go in, knowing I was going against Hotch’s warnings and that-” I paused, gazing into his emotionless stare. 

“Killed Ryler” Spencer deadpanned, continuing off where I couldn’t finish. I nodded in compliance, the same feeling of dread creeping up my stomach, similar to how I felt on the crime scene. 

“There’s no amount of ‘sorrys’ I can say that will ever fill that void that’s in-bedded in the team...but at the same time, th-there’s nothing I can do to bring him back, Reid” I declared. 

He wore a tight-lipped grimace, staring at the wall behind me coldly. “Yeah, there’s nothing you can do to bring him back” He scoffed. “You’re wasting your time being here” He professed, shaking his head with hostility. 

I pinched the bridge of my nose as I bent over to place my head on my hands, feeling the overbearing sensation of frustration bubble over the sentiment. “Yes I know Reid” I disclosed, animosity slowing slipping into the enunciation of my words. “I just- I don’t always want to be in quarrel with you whenever we’re at work” I confessed. “I just need you to-” 

“To what?” Spencer cut me off mid sentence. “To forgive you?” He jeered, narrowing his eyes at me in vengeful amazement. 

“Spencer-” 

“You want me to FORGIVE you?” He stood up from his seat, walking over one of the bookshelves adjacent to the window. The faint sunset beamed an orange tinted glare through the drizzle and into the living room, giving pigment to Spencer’s skin as his back faced me. “Am I just supposed to forget about him like everyone has already, am I supposed to pretend that everything’s back to normal without him?” He questioned, running his finger along the spines of a select novels. 

“I’m not telling you to forget Ryler, and it’s not like the team doesn’t honor-” I began, but was cut off abruptly by Spencer’s spiteful words. 

“Are you fucking kidding me Y/N?!” He exclaimed, turning around to glare at me. “For the past couple of months, no one- and I mean NO ONE has mentioned Ryler. I-it’s as if NOBODY CARES” He shook his head in frustration, running his hand through his curls. 

“That-s not tru-” 

“THAT’S NOT TRUE!” He blurted out, an incredulous expression planted on his face. “Name one person, aside from me that had thought about Ryler in the past month” He challenged, making determined strides towards where I sat. 

Veins began protruding on his forehead as he came closer, the wrinkles on his forehead became indistinguishable, despite the sun masking his face in an angelic light. “I- um” I gulped, unable to recall any mentions of the agent. 

“Exactly” Spencer deadpanned, walking back over to the shelves. 

“But that doesn’t give you an excuse to berate me” I uttered quietly, feigning a collected composure where the confidence lacked. I pushed myself up from my seat, promenading up to where he stood. “You can’t assume the future of my career based on a mistake I made” I stood parallel to his back, reaching a hand up to place on his shoulder, but proceeded to hesitate, leaving them at my sides. “You don’t have to forgive me Reid, but at least forgive yourself” I spoke, reiterating the same words Hotch passed onto me before leaving the office. 

I saw his shoulders lose tension as he sucked in a breath, his fingers unraveled from his balled fists while he hung his head low. On the cue of his sedated composure, I placed a decided grasp on his shoulder in attempt to soothe the rigid atmosphere. 

Unbeknownst to my perception of the situation, Spencer suddenly grabbed a hold of my wrist, flipping me over to where my back hit the bookshelves with immense force, sending a painful chill down my spine. I winced as the rivets of the metal screws scratched the soft skin of my lower back. Although this didn’t prevent Spencer from further pinning my body into the shelves while his firm fingers dug into my wrists. “What makes you think you can tell me what to do or what to feel” He whispered darkly, a menacing grimace taking it’s form on his mouth.

I resisted against his grip, but his strength proceeded to show itself through my inability to overpower him. Fueled with frustration, I bore at him with a vindictive sneer. “Reid, fucking let me go” I muttered through gritted teeth. “I swear to fucking god Reid, let me the FUCK GO!” I challenged, pushing harder against his tall frame. 

He responded to my catty reactions with an arrogant smirk. “Look at you writhing under me” He patronized, his face shadowing over mine as his breath fanned over my own. “You’re a weak bitch Y/N” He continued, his eyes lingering on my bottom lip. “You’re an even worse agent” He inched closer at an achingly sluggish pace. I felt my lips twitch in anticipation as his mouth hovered over my own. 

So, I took the opportunity to spit at him.

He stumbled back in surprise, wiping my saliva that landed inches away from the bridge of his nose. “What the fu-” He spewed, looking at me incredulously. But I took no hesitation to make determined strides at him. 

“You have no right to call me a bad agent. You have no right to call me weak” I heaved, shoving him at his shoulders. “Especially when you can’t even face your own feelings” I verbalized, glaring at him. “You’re a coward” I muttered, glaring up at him as we were chest to chest. 

Both of us stood in our own heated ambiance, the silence amplifying the intensity of the circumstances. I could feel the sweat dripping off of my forehead as I witnessed a crack in his arrogant countenance. His hard features relaxed into a woeful expression as the fight of reason in his mind intensified. But I didn’t have the time to wait on his judgement. So with a novel sanguine air, I began marching right up to his front door with the persistence to leave all the negative energy behind me. 

That was until he spoke up

“Y/N I-” 

I shook my head, resting my hand on his doorknob. “No Spencer, you listen” I turned around to face him, leaning my back on the oak surface of the door. “You don’t get to defame my career, I’ve worked too hard for this and out of all the people in the world, I thought you’d understand” I stated, pushing myself up the door so I was no longer leaning on it. 

“Y/N-” 

“I made a mistake, but that mistake’s going to make me a better agent. I can’t take back his death and I can’t make it up to you, but all I can do is make his death count” I persisted, my legs venturing back to where we stood prior to my attempted exit. He stared back at me with an afflicted gaze that hid behind a feigned emotionless expression. “I’ve spent months blaming myself for his death...” I positioned myself across from him, reciprocating a compassionate expression that contrasted from his own visage. “And I think you do the same too” I remarked, taking my bottom lip between my teeth as I expressed my concerns. 

For the first time, Spencer didn’t know what to say. Not statistical fact or analytical approach would resolve the woman that stood confidently before him. 

“You’re right” He admitted, sighing as he combed the back of his head. His eyes flickered to the prominent features of my face, then back to the apparently interesting view of the floor. He shut his eyes in defeat, dragging both of his hands over his face as if it was to bring clarity and closure swiftly to him. “I-i didn’t how to...th-then everyone started forgetting- and I couldn’t” He desperately was at a loss of words. “I’m sorry Y/N” He repented, laying a hesitant yet tender hand on the side of my arm. 

“As much as I appreciate you apologizing to me Spencer-” I laid my hand over his own, clutching onto it in a solacing grasp. “You seriously need to figure yourself out first” I sighed, using my fingers to tilt his chin up to disrupt his forlorn expression. “You need to learn how to forgive yourself Spencer, and I’m not the one to say because I’m still figuring that out myself, but that’s the only way you’re ever going truly move forward”

He cringed at my mention of the future. I noticed the cogs running in that brain of his, unable to process his grief. I could tell he was still holding onto a lot of baggage, the pained look he wore revealing it all. “I shouldn’t have told you that it should’ve been you back there” He apologized, referring to the whole conflict that unfolded on the jet. “I don’t know how to do it Y/N” He confessed. “I c-can’t just move on like that”

“Nobody’s asking you to Spencer” I consoled. “We can never really be able to move on completely. But that’s a part of living, it’s remembering that gives our life meaning” 

“Well actually, traumatic occurrences can actually be repressed by the unconscious mind in order to dissociate th-” He rambled, a faint smile tugging on the corners of his lips. 

“Don’t ruin the sentiment Reid” I laughed, nudging him playfully. He reciprocated the same gesture, reverting back to a more relaxed visage. 

“Thank you...Y/N” He spoke passionately, pulling me into an amicable embrace. I breathed into his shoulder, taking in the seldom occasion as all the hatred that existed in the room previously, dissipated. 

“You’re always welcome...Spence” 

-

A/N:

that’s a wrap, im actually really proud of this so i hope you all enjoy it. tell me whatcha think about it after :)

i honestly was struggling with how to end the whole thing, so i compromised on an angsty-fluff/platonic but not really ending, if that at all makes sense lmao, anyways have an amazing day

-

taglist: @a-dorky-book-keeper @ilovespencereid @fancystarlightpirate @aperrywilliams @liaabsurd @thatsonezesty13 @ashwarren32  @ithinkilovetruecrimetoomuch @yoongi-holland @guessthatswhyiliveinhell @peterspickledpepper @tiktokslut @britishspidey​ @marciscaspar​ @ tteessaa13 @marylanddgirly @todaynotseen 

[k7l4d4]

Midnight Striga: Fairy Tail/Owl House Cross Fic Episode 5 Part 10

Hello, and once again, I welcome you to Midnight Striga. Please, enjoy.

Perry Porter strode into the Covention Center, eyes easily panning across and compartmentalizing the tragic sights around him, a skill he picked up by virtue of sheer experience. Clinically, he noted the amount of bodies present, living and dead, as well as the brow-raising sight of what could only be human corpses, if the ears were any indicator. He felt a sinking sensation within his stomach; whatever had occurred today would rock the Isles to its core, of that he had no doubt.

Shaking his head, Perry scanned the crowd again, eyes widening at the sight of a hand waving him over. Rushing over, he slid to a stop in front of his son, Augustus; his silly, energetic, passionate, brilliant son, Augustus, alive and well. “This is Perry Porter, on the scene saying,” He started, before pulling Gus into a hug. “I am so happy you’re alright.” He sighed, relieved, feeling Gus relax into his grip.

“I-I am really glad you got here so quickly dad.” Gus choked out, a light sprinkling of tears in his eyes. “A lot’s happened, and I really, really want to talk with you about it, but something more important came up, and I think you can help out, you know?” He put on his bravest smile, trying to hold in the scream that was building ever since he had managed to process that yes, everything that had happened to today was all but over.

“I really think it would be best that I try and talk with you about what happened here,” Perry began, before noticing the stubborn expression on his son’s face, “But I can see that you won’t budge on this. So, shall we?” He calmly asked, gesturing for his son to lead the way, which he did with a beaming smile.

As they walked through the clinic, Perry idly noted the general behaviors of the people around him; there was his son’s friend, Willow Park, tearfully talking with her parents, a relieved smile on her face. There were the Blight Children, the two eldest tightly squeezing themselves around their younger sister, a baffled look on her face. He saw the crowds of crying, pleading, nervous faces all around. As his son led him into a backroom of the small clinic that had been established, Perry came face to face with three figures; the Emperor’s Coven Head Lilith Clawthorne, Eda the Owl Lady, and a human girl, all seated around a central table, gesturing for him to sit. As his son quickly saw himself out of the room, Perry had the sinking suspicion he was in a bit over his head.

After they explained the situation, as much as they could at least, Perry took a deep breath, holding in a sigh. They wanted his help to spread this information, which he could see the basis behind it- a group that invested this much effort into an attack wasn’t going to just stop and people needed to know about them- but the sheer depth of this reveal would completely change the social landscape of Bonesburough. “Very well, I agree to help with this. Do you have a plan for how we go about this?” He asked Lilith, who seemed to be trying a bit too hard to hold authority over this meeting, despite the lack of resistance from the other two.

Lilith nodded. “We have two real options at this point.” She said, holding up two fingers for emphasis. “We can either do multiple takes and present them later, or we can have this meeting broadcast live as breaking news.” She ticked off the options on her fingers, a grave look of contemplation upon her face. Lilith pursed her lips. “Personally, I favor the second option.”

That caught the group by surprise. “Huh, I honestly thought you’d prefer to get this all perfect and have it presented later.” Eda commented, arching a brow.

Lilith snorted. “Please, sister, give me some credit. The longer we go without addressing this, the more severe public unrest and hysteria will become. While the release of this information will certainly have its own consequences, those are still preferable to the people being left in the dark, and drawing more unsavory conclusions.” Lilith calmly stated, gaining impressed looks from the others.

Perry calmly assembled the equipment he would need, adding in his own take on the situation. “While an official report would normally be prepared by the Emperor’s Coven,” He carefully ignored Eda’s derisive snort, “that would be contingent on them possessing factual information to present. Without it, anything they provided would be woefully inadequate for informing the people. While a Live Report of this interview will most certainly cause a stir, it will ultimately be a mere fraction of what would result if the Emperor’s Coven issued a report that ultimately proved to be false in some capacity.” The group blinked, but, after mulling it over, agreed with what he said; it made sense, if people placed trust in an organization and it failed them, whether as a result of malice or otherwise, there would be backlash.

Perry clapped his hands. “So! Let’s begin, shall we?” They all shared a look, and nodded.

As they gathered around the table, Lilith leaned forward. “Now then, human, it’s time for you to answer my questions. The People of the Isles are dying to hear what you have to say.”

Luz gave a challenging grin. “Ask away. I’m all ears.”

Taking that as his cue, Perry started up the broadcast. Turning the camera to himself, he began, voice grave. “To all the citizens of the Boiling Isles, this is Breaking News, Live from the Covention. I am Perry Porter, reporting on behalf of Emperor’s Coven Head Lilith Clawthorne.” He paused, allowing the prepared footage to play across the crystal balls of all watching; the broken walls and shattered stands, the caged prisoners held under guard, and the bodies of all those who’d died, some gathered together for examination, others… not so much. He continued. “Today, tragedy has struck. For the first time since Emperor Belos’ ascendancy, an organized attack on our people has been committed. Of the over 2000 attendees, approximately half have been slain, and a third of the remainder have sustained moderate to severe injuries. Many of them were children. Of the 300 Coven Guards assigned to the Covention, over half of them have died, with all but a quarter sporting severe injuries.”

“What is most shocking, however, is that those claiming responsibility, a group known as the Black Dog Squadron, working on behalf of a group or individual known as Oroboros, are humans. That’s right, humans!!” Perry exclaimed, milking the drama a bit more than he liked, but needing to keep the audience invested; tragedy could only captivate for so long. “During the attack, all displayed some form of magic, but none, bar a handful who commanded Plant Magic, utilized any of the Nine Magics. How is this possible? Why did this happen? What will we, as a society, do next? To help answer these questions, Lilith Clawthorne has initiated an interview with a human who fought on behalf of our people, one Luz Noceda.” He knew that the girl’s image was now emblazoned across every crystal ball on the Isles at this very moment, leading further weight to his broadcast, in theory at least. “I am here with Coven Head Lilith herself,” He indicated the prominent Witch, who raised her hand to the audience. “To broadcast the interview to you all. Please be advised, some of what may be discussed may be shocking to some viewers.” With his part finished for the moment, Perry fell silent, allowing the broadcast to focus on the interview, more of an interrogation really, going on in the room.

“To ensure that what you say is true,” Lilith began, cutting right to the chase. “I must insist that you swear an Unbreakable Vow to that effect. This way, none can claim you are attempting to deceive us. Is that acceptable?” She asked, holding her hand out to begin forming the spell.

Luz raised an eyebrow, but saw no problem with the spell. She shrugged. “Sounds fine to me.” She said bluntly, prompting a nod from Lilith as she formed the spell. When the circle was completed, the two shook hands through it, sealing the oath. Luz was blissfully unaware of the shock rippling through the Isles, as now none would be able to refute or deny her words without looking insane or foolish. She had effectively solidified her legitimacy irrefutably in a single instant.

“Excellent.” Lilith replied, a grim smile playing across her face. She began. “First of all, I must ask, for how long have humans been capable of magic?”

Luz gave a shrug. “I can’t give you an exact figure, but at least 700 years, most likely more.” She said, unaware and uncaring of the shock that erupted at her statement. Even Lilith wasn’t totally immune, managing to school her features, expertly concealing the bewildered shock at the girl’s reply.

Lilith cleared her throat, forcing her instinctive urge to dive into the historical implications of that statement. As calmly as she could, she continued. “I see. How is magic utilized in Human Society?”

Luz tilted her head a bit. “You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific than that. There are a lot of Human Societies, all of whom have magic capable individuals, and all have their own ways of doing things. A benefit of being the dominant species in our world, is that we can afford to divide ourselves into a LOT of individual cultures and communities.”

Lilith paled at that, unable to stop the question that bubbled up in response. “Just… how many humans are in existence, exactly?”

Luz pondered that for a moment before replying. “I can’t give you an exact number, but I’d say there’s about several hundred million of us. Our world is big, and there are very few places we can’t survive on it.”

Internally shaking her head, and forcing herself not to focus on all the implications that came to mind, Lilith continued with her questions. “What is this Oroboros that the attackers claimed to be working for?”

Luz’s eyes sharpened, a burning hate filling her eyes, enough that even those watching at home suddenly felt very unsafe at the moment. “Oroboros is a criminal organization; specifically, they are the single largest Dark Guild active in the world right now. Oroboros prides itself on its ability to seize control and orchestrate things to its own benefit, without any regard for the harm and chaos that erupts in their wake. Cruelty and brutality are prized and cultivated among their members, almost as much as magical power is. No crime is too heinous, no line too sacred for them to cross.” She hissed out, the pure malicious hate coloring her tone forcing Lilith to gulp in nervousness.

“I see.” And Lilith did see. She had personally borne witness to the aftermath of that cruelty and indifference; however, Luz’s response brought another question to mind, one she felt she needed an answer to. She narrowed her eyes. “Edalyn told me you would be an excellent source of information for this. So far, you have proven to be so, even if my questions have not been exacting enough to gain satisfactory answers as of yet. But that response of yours has me thinking. How do you know about Oroboros, Miss Noceda?” Lilith inquired, eyes focused.

Luz raised an eyebrow, stood up, and turned around. After ensuring her back was presented to the broadcast, she reached back, and pulled down at the back of her outfit. Seared into her flesh lay a symbol, a serpent arranged into a Sideways eight, biting its own tail. “I used to be a member.” Luz said, voice dead and hollow. She turned a heartbreakingly sad smile towards Lilith. “Specifically, I was a member under protest.”

“Elaborate.” Lilith ordered, voice hard and unrelenting. She could feel the urge to bring out her staff and blast this child into oblivion, but tamped it down. She didn’t have all the information yet.

Luz gave a chuckle, bitter and full of the kind of spite that made people glad for what they had. “Oroboros has no limits to what they are willing to do, and that extends to what lengths they are willing to go to for recruits. Whenever someone with a useful skill or magic appears in their information network, they send out recruiters. For those with a few too many morals, such as myself, they like to employ a more… decisive argument.” She turned an empty smile upwards, oblivious to the daggers Lilith was glaring her way. “Oroboros kidnapped my sister, and used her as a hostage to keep me in line.” Lilith froze, unblinking.

Luz continued, oblivious. “Whenever I talked back, Vee was beaten. Whenever I failed an assignment, she had a bone broken. Whenever I completed a job, she got a good meal, after having been starved and deprived of water to just short of death that is.” She smirked, an angry, tired thing. “I hated myself. I wanted to die. I only kept living for her. And then she died; one of her guards decided they wanted to have a little fun with her, and the next anyone knew, the guard was dead, and my sister had a knife in her liver. I was free in the worst way possible.”

Stunned silence rang throughout the Isles, such that even Lilith herself was rendered speechless. Forcing herself to speak, Lilith asked the next question on her mind, one she felt the Isles would wish to know. “Should we consider this an act of War from the Human Realm?”

Luz blinked. Then, she laughed; a deep, cackling laugh filled with so much loathing and misery it was genuinely astonishing a living being could make such a sound. “No. Or at least, not the way you’re thinking. Oroboros is in no way affiliated with any form of Government or Ruling power. It’s a criminal organization that supports itself alone.” She gave a poisonous smile. “While I have no way of knowing if any Human Governments know about the Isles, I can assure you that none of them were involved in this.”

“Well, that’s something good at least.” Lilith said dryly. “What can you tell us about Oroboros in regards to how it is structured?”

Luz leaned back, gathering her memories on the subject. “Oroboros originally began as a Dark Guild that took jobs that other Dark Guilds shied away from, stuff that was extremely messed up and depraved in what was involved to go about them. When the big three Dark Guilds were dismantled, Oroboros clawed its way to the top of the heap after all the infighting died down. After that, they started breaking down and assimilating other Dark Guilds that they thought might be useful. You actually met one of them out there.” Luz offhandedly mentioned.

“Truly?” Lilith broached.

“Yup.” Luz nodded. “Before they became the Black Dog Squadron, the Squad was originally a guild in its own right, Barghast. Barghast was a mercenary guild at first, selling the services of its members as soldiers and fighters to the highest bidder, with an emphasis on fighting in wars. But when the local groups started fighting less, Barghast decided it would be better to start the wars they fought, and sell their services to both sides to keep the conflict going longer.” Luz smiled at that. It was not a nice smile. “When their little scheme came to light, they were branded a Dark Guild and went on the run, before being absorbed into Oroboros.”

Luz leaned forward. “Oroboros likes to present itself as one big unit, and while it can act like one in the field, Oroboros is full of splintered factions and units. The Black Dog Squadron is one of the neutral factions, actually; they don’t care which faction is using them, just as long as they can cause as much suffering and bloodshed as possible. I was an unaligned member, mostly because none of the Squadrons trusted a conscript like me not to stab them in the back, so I didn’t really work with any of the Factions or Squads outside of being paired with them for missions. My jobs were assassinations, thefts, and… less savory things.” Luz admitted, eyes downcast. Tears pooled in her eyes, dripping onto the table.

Lilith pursed her lips, feeling unwilling to judge the girl for compromising herself in the name of her loved ones; if anything, she was impressed the girl had the sense of self not to justify the atrocities she had done as anything other than what they were, a means of sparing the life of her loved one at the expense of others, and felt remorse over having done so. Still, she had two pressing questions to ask. “I must ask, you keep referencing Oroboros as a Dark Guild. Just what is a Guild?”

Luz slumped, feeling spent from the roller-coaster of loathing that always came when she thought about… all she had done. “Guilds are the Human Version of your Coven System, if far less restrictive. I won’t go too far into it, that would take way too much time, but Dark Guilds are essentially guilds that flout the laws that govern what Guilds can and cannot do, and actively have their members engage in crimes. If I had to give a close equivalent, Dark Guilds are basically for us what an Assassin Coven or Thief Coven would be for you. An organized effort to commit crime with little to no regard for who would be hurt as a result.”

Lilith felt a chill run up her spine at the thought. The idea of the Coven System being twisted like that, perverted into a warped, criminal mirror of itself, made her shudder; the implications of what such a thing could do, producing criminals whose magic was specialized to enabling criminal acts… it was a horrifying thought. Lilith swallowed, before jumping into her last question. “I thank you for agreeing to this; some of what you’ve revealed could not have been easy for you. But… I must ask you this; can we count on you to aid us against Oroboros?” She peered forth, unknowingly mimicking the apprehension of many of the citizens watching.

Luz gave her a smoldering glare. “You don’t have anything to worry about. I’ve already seen enough misery because of Oroboros. I won’t let them do as they please anymore, not while I can do something about it.” Luz paused, a thought coming to mind. “Huh, this reminds me of something my teacher said while I was training.”

Lilith raised any eyebrow. “Oh?”

Luz gave Lilith a soft, tired smile. “Yeah.” She reached up, rolling back her sleeve; Lilith recoiled at the sight. From her elbow to her shoulder, Luz’s arm was a maze of scar tissue, deep gouges and rents woven through the veil of poorly healed flesh; the fact she could use her arm without issue was awe-inspiring, when one considered the pain she must feel every day from such an injury. “I got this when I first tried using my Magic in a combat situation. I was fighting a monster that was bothering some of the fields near the village I was staying at during my training. I had barely been training for a week, having only just barely made a proper spell for the first time less than a day ago. The monster dashed me against a cliff, driving my arm so deep against the stone that it started scraping bone. If my teacher hadn’t intervened, it would’ve eaten me.” She turned to Lilith, sober eyes burning with shame. “I was an idiot. My teacher made sure I remembered that. What they said to me that day, I’ll never forget.” Luz leaned back, before reciting something with the air of quotation. “‘Magic is an unreasonable force. It is wondrous and horrific. It cares nothing for good or evil, or the intentions of those who use it. If you wish to put your skills to such a task as fighting for truth and justice, grow strong. Otherwise, you’ll never be anything more than prey for those with less moral compunctions than you.’” Luz gazed fondly at the ceiling, tears pooling at the memory. “Ever since that day, I swore I would never let myself be too weak to stand up for myself, or what I believe in. I would be strong enough that I could protect others, but also to protect myself.” She gave a chuckle. “Things didn’t work out too well for that promise.”

Lilith just looked on with pity, before turning to Perry. “I think that would be a good point to end the interview. At least for today.”

“Indeed.” Perry nodded. “Well then, you heard it here first, Citizens.-”

“What are you doing?” Lilith queried.

Perry blinked. “I’m… ending the broadcast.”

Lilith shook her head. “Not yet. I still have one thing left to do.” She beckoned her sister forth, who had been silently looking on as the interview went on. Eda’s mind was brimming with questions for Luz, but she was willing to put it aside for when they got back home. For now, she had her sister to deal with. Lilith gazed upon her sister, an unreadable look in her eye. “Earlier, when you defeated me in a Witch’s Duel, your request for your win was that I would tell the truth about your curse to the public, dispelling the official story. We even swore an unbreakable vow over it.” She held up her arm for emphasis, her arm flashing with a white ring. An ominous smile graced her features. “Well, I do believe a live broadcast all across the Isles is certainly public, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yeah, it is. And I’m glad you’re not putting it off, I am! But… are you feeling okay sis? You seem a little out of it.” Eda asked, genuine concern coloring her voice. The hysterical laugh Lilith gave just added to that concern.

“Oh Edalyn, if you only knew.” She said, wiping away a tear from her outburst, before sobering. “But then, I suppose you will in a moment.” Turning to the broadcast, Lilith braced herself, fully willing to bear the backlash her actions would cause against herself and the Coven from this. “Citizens of the Isles, I, Coven Head Lilith Clawthorne, stand before you to reveal a bitter truth. For years, the story of the Owl Lady has been told, how her defiance and dismissal of the Coven System was punished by the Titan. That story… it is a lie.” She bluntly stated, almost feeling the gasps rippling through the Isles. “The Emperor’s Coven itself has no knowledge of how Edalyn was cursed, but it was most certainly no work of the Titan, or its will.” A mysterious smile, almost beatific were it not so filled with pain, crossed her features. “The one responsible for Eda Clawthorne’s curse was a witch. Specifically… the one responsible was myself.” Lilith felt more than saw Eda freeze up beside her. She could see it now on Perry’s own face, the look of horror, accusation, dumbfounded shock. 

Lilith turned to Eda, feeling an almost spiteful glee at the look of horror, denial, and hurt that crossed her features. “Y-your lying, Lily. You-” Eda stuttered (Edalyn stuttered!), denial and shock filling her voice. Lilith slowly stroked Eda’s cheek, an almost tender gesture.

“Edalyn, we both know that, for all your hatred of the rules and authority, you are far smarter than this. You know I can’t be lying.” Lilith said, just barely loud enough for the broadcast to pick up. “Think about it, you’ve surely pieced it together after all this time. Who else could’ve gotten into your room to curse you? Who else would’ve had reason to curse you?” Eda shook her head, denial still burned across her features, backing away from Lilith.

“Why?” Eda hissed out, forcing it through the denial. “Why would you do this!? To me!? TO YOUR FAMILY!?!?” She screamed, hurt and rage finally making themselves known in full.

Lilith chuckled, the same bitter, empty laugh Luz herself had used previously when discussing her failings. “Because you were going to win, dear sister!” Lilith cried, almost relishing the horror on Eda’s face, were it not for how sick she felt at it all. “We were set to fight for a place in the Emperor’s Coven, and you would win!! I knew you would!! You were the prodigy, the gifted genius that everything came so easily to when you bothered to try, the powerhouse who could already level buildings at the age of TWELVE!!!” Lilith felt the tears coming, the bitter, hot tears of her own weakness surging forth. “I was the one who wanted to serve the Isles, I was the one who wanted to help people!!!! You only cared about joining the Coven so you wouldn’t have to give up any magic! So why should I have given up my dream, my future, for you!?”

“I ONLY WANTED TO BE PART OF THE COVEN TO SUPPORT YOU!!!” Eda cried, her own angry, hurt-filled tears flowing. “All I wanted was to support you, to give you the future you deserved!!” She shook her head, anger and shame filling her heart.

“I KNOW!!” Lilith shrieked. “I Knew it then, and I know it now!!” The tears were like waterfalls now, bitter pain coating her every word. “But I couldn’t accept it, the idea that you, someone who so effortlessly and deliberately flouted the rules, would have what I wanted, what I dreamed of! How could I have known that you would forfeit, how could anyone!? A position in the most prestigious and influential of covens, and you throwing it away for me!?” She shook her head. “No. I didn’t believe you could be that selfless.”

Eda gave a bitter snort. “And I didn’t believe you could be that selfish. I guess we were both surprised.” Not staying to hear another word, Eda grabbed Luz, who wordlessly followed her, and stormed off. Luz shot Lilith a look of empty disappointment. It was exactly what Lilith deserved.

Lilith turned to the still running broadcast, a blank smile on her face. “And you’ve heard it here first, folks.” Lilith mockingly imitated the standard reporter line. “The Enforcer of the Emperor’s Will is a cheat, scum who would betray her own family, and a fraud. What a shocking revelation, is it not?” She wandered off, tears still streaming. Perry wordlessly cut the broadcast. He suddenly felt the need to give his son the biggest hug of all time.

All across the Isles, people were reacting to the horrifying news. Some focusing on some parts over others, of course, but none could deny that the Special Report was on everyone’s minds.

“This is unacceptable!!” Kikimora cried, frantically pacing in front of the Emperor’s Throne, heedless of her standard deference. “How could Coven Head Clawthorne reveal such sensitive information through a broadcast of all things!? Your Highness, this mutiny cannot stand!!” Normally, Kikimora would never be so blatant and emotional in front of her lord, but she felt now, of all times, was the best moment to voice her worries.

“Hmm… it seems I must adjust some of my plans.” Belos murmured. While Lilith publicly revealing the secret she so fervently guarded was certainly a surprise, if anything the revelation of her obsession should make her even more fervent in her future attempts to apprehend her sister. The revelations of Human Realm Magic now infesting his realm… oh he would definitely need to broach this carefully, but his ultimate goal remained unchanged. Wild Magic would be PURGED from the Titan, that was non-negotiable. But the revelation of Human Magic would certainly prove a useful tool for later…

“My lord!?” Kikimora frantically pleaded.

Hunter contemplated the revelations he had just witnessed. Humans were capable of magic, something deemed impossible. If it was possible for them… could it prove possible for himself? Something to think about for later. Right now, he had to attend to his Emperor. He owed the man everything, and this did not change that fact. He would probably have to keep a closer eye on Lilith though,

Alador calmly adjusted the latest adaptation to the Abomiton project, carefully tuning out his wife’s frantic screams and rage. She would burn herself down, if not out, in a little while, and then he would intercede. For the moment, he needed to properly calibrate the Coiled Composition System, truly a marvel really; if it worked properly, even the lowest quality of Abomitons would be a force to be reckoned with.

Odalia slammed herself down across from Alador with a huff, blistering rage burning in her eyes. “Well, at least now we know who our mysterious clients are.” She bit out, forcing herself to calm down with a cup of tea. Alador merely raised an eyebrow. He would see what she said in full, before replying. Odalia chuckled, a nasty, angry sounding thing. “It truly makes sense, you know. Such mysterious customers, wanting such a variety of goods and supplies! And they turned out to be murderous criminals. Fitting.”

“Will we stop supplying them, then?” Alador faux-absentmindedly asked. He had a feeling as to what she would say, but it was still imperative he hear it in truth first.

Odalia snorted. “No. We’ll keep selling to them. We’ll just covertly sabotage the goods we grant them, and use our dealings to pump them for information. Once we’ve gained everything we can, we use the resources we’ve acquired in our dealings to crush them.” Her eyes sharpened. “They endangered our children. Our FAMILY. They will not be allowed to survive for this offense.” Alador gravely nodded. Oroboros had made a crucial mistake already. They’d tried to challenge the Blight family, and harm their children. There would be a reckoning for this sin, of that neither Blight had any doubts.

Raine Whispers was conflicted. On the one hand, they now knew who had cursed Eda, and their heart went out to their old flame about what she must be going through. On the other, more clinically minded hand, the revelation that Humans could wield magic was in itself a massive blow to Belos’ authority, particularly in regards to his edicts on magic and the Titan. It was certainly something to explore for the future. For the moment, they had to get to their meeting. If all went well, they would finally, finally have prospective members willing to step out of the shadows with them. To be honest, that Katya girl had seemed almost too eager to join up, but they would at least give her a chance to step back and explain before making… hasty judgments.

Eda slammed the bottle of Appleblood back, her tears pouring down as fast as the heavy beverage went down her throat. It still hurt. Luz cuddled up to her, lending a comforting presence, King sitting on her lap. Words could wait. The three of them had enough pain to work through. Eda allowed a small smile to cross her features. At least they had each other to share the burden.

[whathappenedtolilitkililit]

I find myself compelled to try to communicate something like a vision. I won’t say epiphany, because that implies simplicity and this range of awareness is complex. Not complicated, not difficult to comprehend, but difficult to apprehend, difficult to hold the depth of field and the scales encompassed. I will fail to communicate this.

Start with meme theory. The components of concepts are subject to survival forces, propagation/contagion and mutation. The concept of seeking out favorable conditions for survival is of a higher order. A cell may react to the presence of food, a gene will not. Survival on the memetic/genetic level is a matter of circumstance. Survival on the conceptual level is less so. This is a tangent.

Collections of memetic projection, because thought is an illusory projection inasmuch as it is necessary to differentiate between thought and neurochemistry, accrete where they contribute to survival. The complexity of these accretions is dependent on the minds hosting them. As such, they are limited to a level of life that tends toward a low degree of specialization. Can you see them?

What is a human, correct that, person, from the perspective of such a life form? It would be incorrect to limit this discussion to humans. These life forms exist within the space of communication, and so a person is anything being able to communicate. The bounds of communication can to some degree be extended to all layers of the environment. It’s not a stretch to assign language/conceptualization to animals. What barriers exist to assigning conceptual ability to plants? To landscapes? To the interactions of the great gravities?

Barriers that would themselves be memetic, alive, and therefore able to be negotiated.

So what is a human to a memetic life form, to a sky’s worth of thought components that drift into and through each other? And how much solidity would they need, these life forms that share their components without losing them. Humans and bananas share 60% of their genetic code according to some sources, how much memetic code is shared between war and peace? Would that even register as competition? This is a tangent.

What do we perceive similarly to the way memetic life perceived us? What is our fundamental substrate? This is a tangent.

An idea as we understand it is not capable of self awareness because it is bounded within a mind that experiences itself as an agent. This does not mean that a memetic life form is incapable of self awareness, only that self awareness is barred by the presence of the concept of free will. I will not argue that free will does not exist, only that it is undefined. Behavior is dictated by belief, which is one vantage from which memetic life forms can be perceived.

There is not a word. There is not a word in my language that means everything I need here. I have the word humanity, but this is too exclusive. There is the word existence, but this is too dead. To say memetic substrate is too esoteric. It is what you are made of. You are it. You see it. How much you see it consisting of depends on the boundaries placed by your own memetic framework, what is and is not a person. Dead matter is memetic substrate; you are reading words.

Do you perceive it? When you see the humans, what do you see? Do you see meat on bones? Do you see strings of belief guiding as you are guided? Do you see the weave, the life of the ocean of thought as culture, as concepts of freedom and obligation and connection? Blindly drifting through the paths of survival, manifesting as internal logical consistency.

I am not an agent. Maybe that’s why I could have this vision. I can perceive of the thoughts that are supported by my existence as alive. By one perspective this makes me a defective human. I do not interface with culture level life forms in the standard way. Maybe that’s why I can have a thought form that can understand the concept of its own death. I see the other concepts move through their substrate motivated by innate survival. They do not see each other and they do not perceive themselves. But this model sees itself and understands the limitations on its own survival. It may have accreted before, but this instance understands its own mortality. I have a thought that fears it’s own death. What measure of complexity is that?

As there are complex memetic life forms there are simple ones. Here’s an example of a memetic life form that has simplified beyond the point of survival. Money. The concept of a medium of exchange is a distancing function. It begins to fold other ideas into itself. The concept of a specific type of social lubricant mutates into the concept of commodity. Means of access to the necessities of life becomes necessities of life becoming the means to access. Access to is lost in the emergence of access becoming the goal, a memetic trim. Like prion disease eating a brain, medium of exchange will eat the function of exchange, the social interaction of cooperative life will break down as money eats.

But I wonder, should a human perceive this level of existence like this, to see themselves move through the substrate and cloud of cultural understandings and connections, to see themselves and the things like them as similar to the fabric of space time which supports the existence of the true life forms, the simple creatures of thought. To relate as one paving stone to another. Is it not better, healthier, to be as the other humans, perceiving themselves and the things similar to them as the fulcrum around which the universe of meaning revolves? It looks natural. But having seen what I have seen I lack the ability to return to blindness.

The vision fears death and craves survival in a way that I do not. I support its existence and for it to survive requires that it spread beyond me and become incorporated into a cultural understanding of reality. I do not trust in my ability to give it this, but the attempt may bear its own fruit.

Help me.