#'it was aliens without a single doubt there is no possible way its not aliens

[caxycreations]

Okay, I've been nerd sniped, I'm sorry

NOTE: If you're going to reblog just to say "not reading that" or some other rude shit, DON'T. I've seen so many notifications of people just saying they couldn't be bothered to read it. I don't know if it's just that they don't see how incredibly rude and disheartening that is or if they know and don't care, but either way it really hurts to see, so please don't reblog if it's just to tell me you won't read it.

So let's go through the canonical likelihood they could each beat Goku. For the sake of keeping canon, we'll keep groups/pairs together if they would never reasonably be apart for something like this. Long post below the cut.

So first up are the ones I see that would, without a doubt, beat Goku.

Saiki K

Saiki is an omnipotent psychic/psionic with quite literally every single possible power out there. Now, this on its own isn't enough to beat Goku. Versatility doesn't mean everything, but Saiki is also powerful enough to rewrite the genetics and reality of everything within range, and his range is, so far, "Earth".

So this, on its own, would allow him to rewrite Goku's biology to make him Human. Bye bye zenkai boosts, bye bye Saiyan transformations. And Saiki, with his powers, has no trouble beating a Human of any caliber if he truly wanted to. And for those who ask "Why would he ever fight Goku?"

One simple reason: Goku would sense his immense power, and be excited for a fight. Goku is respectful enough to not force one if he's refused, but he's persistent enough to badger Saiki until he's given a chance. And Saiki, being Saiki, would simply take off one of his limiters, or both, and rewrite reality as such: "Being an alien isn't possible", thereby making it effective immediately that Goku must be lying/insane, and he is, in fact, Human. Easy win for Saiki.

And for those who would argue against this, bear in mind, the funniest way to beat Goku in this instance would be to simply make him weaker than Saiki, and Saiki is a gag character from a gag series, and it's already been shown in the world of Dragon Ball, and again in Dragon Ball Super, that Goku is incapable of defeating a gag character regardless of that characters canonical ability.

Saiki could win without gag character status, but even in the instance of Goku "beating" him, the gag would turn out to be that Saiki only pretended to get beaten, and is actually entirely unharmed because it was the easiest way to get Goku to leave him alone. Followed by a reveal that Goku will still show up now and then to ask for sparring matches, to drive the point home.

Popeye

Gag character. Would get beaten handily, crawl his way to spinach, and then be exactly as strong as he needs to be to take Goku down in however many hits is funniest.

Bugs Bunny

The gag character to end all gag characters. Someone on this hellsite once described Bugs as a "Trickster God who traps us in our own societal expectations" or some such. Like convincing Thanos to remove the Infinity Gauntlet by establishing a security checkpoint with a metal detector and shaming him into cooperating by telling him there's others waiting.

He could beat Goku in a billion ways, and each and every one of them would involve some shenanigan like Goku throwing a spirit bomb, Bugs showing up behind him holding it, saying "Ehhh, can you hold this for a second?" and as soon as Goku takes it and Bugs is off-screen, it would explode and Goku would be a pile of ashes with blinking eyes. Bugs would win because Bugs' gag is that...well, he simply can't be beaten.

The Warner Trio

Gag trio. Yakko, Wakko, and Dot would snark, sass, and sarcastic-joke their way into the scene, and they would spend the entire time poking fun at him, roasting his look, being unfazed by his attacks because "Nice laser show but we didn't bring our glowsticks." and just being too unbothered to care.

They would undoubtedly annoy Goku into admitting defeat simply to get away from them.

Road Runner

Gag character. Would force Goku to chase him, Goku would fire some blasts, chase him around, and inevitably be led right into the path of a blast he fired earlier to be disintegrated by it.

Pop Team Epic

I know nothing about this series except that it is a gag series. They are gag characters. That means Goku is inherently incapable of beating them.

ASDF Guy

Gag character. Could beat Goku with a simple "Hello, Mine-Turtle!" or "I like Trains."

Heart Diagram

Goku was literally killed by a heart virus in Future Trunks' timeline. This is one that has actually canonically already killed Goku.

Chowder

Gag character. Would likely be after S-Cells for some recipe and need to take Goku's as he's "The only Saiyan in this episode!" or some such, thereby ending the fight with a shot of Chowder wearing Goku's Gi for comedic effect while Dahl stirs raw Super Saiyan aura in a pot to hint that Chowder killed Goku for his S-Cells.

Force Ghost Trio

Gag versions of serious characters, and also ghosts. Goku is canonically unable to beat ghosts or gag characters, and these guys are both.

Those are the ones that would, without a doubt, beat Goku.

Now, let's go over the ones that could, potentially, be it likely or unlikely.

Kirby

Kirby is often considered a gag character, but he isn't. He has a very specific level of power, even if that level of power is "fuck you" levels of power. Kirby has beaten Gods, but so has Goku, even more often and with greater ease. However, Kirby has absorption and power-theft. Kirby could, potentially, absorb Goku (he isn't the brightest and Kirby has his unassuming appearance on his side) and take on his strongest form, including its powerup, and given Kirby in base form is likely more powerful than Goku in base form (Goku needed SSJ to scare Supreme Kai, Kirby beats Gods in base), it's possible Kirby would be more powerful than Goku with the same power up.

Kevin McCallister

Okay, hear me out.

Kevin is technically a gag character, BUT. He is not TRULY a gag character. He just happens to be a comedy character.

So he isn't guaranteed to win, but he could still possibly do so. How you ask?

Goku has been somewhat injured or lightly shaken by the following: planet-shattering attacks. Punches that rock the universe. Energy blasts so potent they would destroy entire galaxies.

Goku has been rendered inconsolable from the pain of the following: chest pain and a half-heartedly, boredly tossed pebble.

It is canon that when Goku and the other fighters in the series are expecting an attack or primed for battle, they are protected by their ki, like armor. It's how they're able to knock away attacks that would destroy planets, or put their "bare" hands on plasma energy that would normally burn the skin off you from a mile away let alone touching it.

This is why when Krillin threw the rock at Goku, it left him in agony and bruised him despite Goku being in Super Saiyan form at the time. This is why Chi-Chi is able to injure Goku regardless of how strong he gets.

So, how does this relate to Kevin being able to beat him? It's everything. It's critical information.

Kevin McCallister's entire M.O. is unexpected attacks. You open a door, you see a bucket fall, think it's over, turns out no, second bucket pulled by the first, second bucket is full of paint and open, you're blinded, you get your bearings, you take a step and feel cars, you smirk and step over them only to find marbles, you slip, you land on the cars which turn out to have been rigged to break easier to let loose a single thumbtack which is now firmly stuck in your back or butt. You bolt upright only to slam your head on a 2x4 that was rigged to hang down from a rope when you fell because your impact shook things enough to make it fall from a precarious perch above.

You get the idea. Every time you think it's safe to let your guard down, that's when the next wave hits. So you say "well he would stop letting his guard down" right? You fool. You know nothing of Goku. He would never put his guard UP. This is a human child, Goku can sense his pitiful power level. His strength? His speed? His ki? Weak. Pathetic. Nothing. A scouter wouldn't even register his power it's so low.

Goku never raises his guard to Chi-Chi, or to Bulma, or to Hercule. He does not raise his defense against normal, powerless, non-combative humans.

"BUT KEVIN IS COMBATIVE" No. He isn't. Goku can sense intent, power, and location. But Kevin isn't actively intending to hurt Goku. He's intending to protect himself and his home. He's not actively wanting to hurt Goku, he's just wanting Goku to leave. He doesn't have power to threaten Goku with, so Goku won't pick up on any threatening aura. And while Goku could simply instant transmission to Kevin and do what he will, we're not talking about how Goku could win, we're going over the fact Kevin could POSSIBLY win.

Enough injury and Goku is down for the count. Otherwise, Goku leaves to avoid further injury, and thereby admits defeat. Both cases, Kevin wins.

Shedinja

This one took me...quite a while. I had to do a lot of extra research for this. So, my immediate thought was Shedinja is a Ghost type, so ghost rules, right? Nah. Bug and Ghost type, and they are the physical shell left behind that has been reanimated. So they very much are physical beings, and given their ability to faint in the games and show they are capable of being physically damaged.

But There's a real case to be made for Shedinja beating Goku.

It can learn Ghost type moves, which operate on ghost-logic, and therefore are a canon weakness Goku is known to have. So things like Shadow Ball, Hex, Curse, and the like would all effect Goku regardless of Ki or form.

It also has access to Wonder Guard, which renders it "immune to all damage types that are not Super-Effective". For those unaware, we can actually attribute Typings to Goku's moves based on attributes and traits they share with Pokemon moves. His melee is, by nature, Fighting type, which Shedinja is immune to. In fact, Shedinja is immune to ALL attack types except Flying, Rock, Ghost, Dark, and Fire type moves, which are all Super Effective.

Goku's most common methods would actually fall under Fighting and Normal type attacks. "But his Ki blasts-" would be Normal type moves. You want proof?

Focus Energy is Normal Type. Quick Attack is Normal Type. Self Destruct is Normal Type. Techno Blast is Normal Type. Tera Blast is Normal Type. These are all energy based moves similar to ki blasts. Know what other energy based move is Normal Type? Hyperbeam. Which is almost identical to the Kamehameha and every other beam attack in DBZ.

Those few attacks Goku has that aren't going to be Normal Type will be Fighting Type.

Shedinja is Immune to all Normal and Fighting Type moves. Goku literally can not damage Shedinja, but Shedinja can damage Goku through Ghost Type moves. Shedinja can beat Goku. But why is it not "absolutely will" beat him? Because Goku can also transform his Ki and if he finds out Shedinja is vulnerable to fire, he can and will use that to his advantage.

That's who could potentially beat Goku. Here's who absolutely could not.

Saitama

I forgot to go over Saitama originally so here's the edit that features that analysis. Bear in mind I am saying this as someone who has seen Seasons 1 and 2 of the show AND is aware of some of the events of the manga.

A lot of reblogs over Saitama claim he is a gag character. But there is a case to be made that he is NOT. What is that case you ask? Well, for the sake of fairness, here is how I am handling gag characters: if their gag is in effect in 100% of all cases (such as looney tunes like Bugs or Road Runner) or if the gag is triggered in 100% of all cases (such as Saiki K or Chowder) then they are a True Gag Character and will insta-win.

However, if their gag has failed (such as Wario, or, yes, even Saitama) in ANY case, then it CAN fail again, and the fairest fight is one against two non-gag characters, so we can safely apply non-gag Saitama here since his gag has failed and Goku meets the conditions to cause it to fail again, which I'll explain.

So, first off, how does his gag fail? Well, his gag is that he kills everything instantly in one hit, unless he actively chooses not to. So we can safely say his gag fails if any of the following are true: he fails to instantly kill an enemy with a single hit while intending to do so, OR if he fails to kill an enemy with a serious hit intended to kill.

He meets both of these conditions. Boros survived for several seconds AFTER Saitama hit him with a Serious Punch. It was a single hit that intended to kill...But he didn't kill Boros INSTANTLY with it. Another example of his gag failing, if that doesn't satisfy, is Garou. Garou, in the manga, has survived MULTIPLE Serious Punches with intent to kill. This, on its own, is proof Saitama's Serious Punch does in fact have a limit to its output. It also proves his gag can, and does, fail against certain opponents.

So the next thing we need to look at is similarities between Garou and Boros to identify what they share that could possibly allow them to get around Saitama's gag, or to nullify it entirely. First similarity is that both are determined to have a good, satisfying fight. Boros crossed the stars seeking one, and Garou sought to become a true Monster powerful enough to force every hero, every do-gooder, to unite under one banner just to take him down. They both seek a battle to end all battles, even if Garou's intention is to end it in his favor, not simply enjoy the fight.

The second similarity is that they have incredibly unique circumstances, even by OPM standards. Garou is a man who has always felt love for the bad guy, he looks to the monsters as inspirations, as the misunderstood and the victimized by those claiming to be heroes. He's trained by an S-Class hero, and has developed into a being of unimaginable power in the pursuit of his dream. Very much a true foil to Saitama, who looked to heroes in comics as inspirations, as the righteous and unshakably moral, self-taught through and through and developed into a being of unimaginable power in the pursuit of HIS dream. Garou is, in this way, a reflection of Saitama, the Tails to Saitama's Heads, the dark to his light.

Boros on the other hand is an alien, forced to become strong by his homeworld's unforgiving conditions, developing a level of power necessary to survive and then some, and on realizing he was far too powerful for his own good, he sought purpose, meaning, and when he heard he may find a worthy opponent, he did everything he could to achieve that future, to realize his dream of facing a foe that would give him a true challenge.

So what are the similarities we can identify? Notably unique circumstances even by OPM standards, sharing strong similarities to Saitama's desires or dreams (Garou dreaming of becoming the greatest Monster vs Saitama dreaming of becoming the greatest Hero, Boros feeling lost in life and seeking a worthy foe vs Saitama feeling bored with living and wishing for the sensation of a real fight again), and the desire for a serious and ultimate battle.

Goku fits ALL of these conditions. He is an alien sent to Earth for his protection, grew up in hostile conditions (surviving on his own for most of his childhood, constant battles with Nation-level threats throughout his teen years, constant battles with world or universe-level threats throughout his adulthood), trained extensively until he was the best of the best, has the ultimate dream of a truly satisfying battle (a dream he routinely seeks out by facing down powerful foes), and being entirely bored with mundane life because there's absolutely no challenge to it, not to mention the fact he has the ultimate dream of becoming the strongest, something he shares with Saitama's pre-OPM self.

Since Goku fits ALL the conditions needed to make this battle exempt from the gag, we will NOT be considering it, as Saitama is not a True Gag Character, and Goku fitting conditions for nullifying it means we can assume actual power limits and such.

So let's look at feats of power. Saitama's Serious Side Hop technique allowed him to create AT LEAST 60 after-images (based on the manga panel) which, when compared with Sonic's 4, means Saitama was moving 15x faster than Sonic in that moment (bare minimum). An afterimage like that is created by moving at least 572mph, stopping in each position for at least 1/255th of a second (any less and the human eye can't pick up on it), so by moving from position A to B for 1/255th of a second and back to A, going 572mph between the two, you create the afterimage.

Sonic creates 4 simultaneously, meaning he needs to move to 3 positions and then back to starting position, or go from A to B, B to A, A to C, C to A, A to D, and repeat.

This means Sonic, to move into each of these positions in less than 1/255th of a second, would need to be moving ~4x faster than the speed for one afterimage. That puts him as moving at 2,228mph while creating those 4 afterimages. Given he is capable of Mach 5 speeds (he's said to be hypersonic) this feat is easy for him, as Mach 5 is 3,805mph. I assume, just as it's easier to move at top speed in a straight line than at sharp turns for a normal person, it's likely more difficult to create such consistent afterimages and so the difficulty that makes it his best attack is from the technique and reaction involved, not the speed itself.

In any case, if Saitama made at least 60 afterimages, putting him at 15x faster than Sonic's speed while creating 4, that puts Saitama's speed at 33,420mph just to account for the 60 we can count in the manga panel. This means 33,420 is the MINIMUM speed we can assume for Saitama's max ability. To be generous, given he wasn't winded after doing that and given he was able to react incredibly easily to the near-instant directional changes, I'll be kind and put his maximum speed at 10,000x this number.

That puts Saitama's speed at 334,200,000mph, or 49.8% the speed of light. We'll be kind again and say 50% the speed of light, round up that last .2%

So we have a speed value for Saitama. Now what about Goku? Well, let's look at Goku on Namek, for a moment. Base form Goku, at the start of his fight against Freeza. Goku, BEFORE his super saiyan transformation, was moving at 3.26 (we'll round down to 3) times the speed of light. How do I get this number? Buckle up, it's involved.

The Namekian ship Bulma, Krillin, and Gohan took to get to Namek made it from Earth to Jupiter in "seconds". That means less than a minute, so we'll say it took them 1 minute just to lowball it and to have a solid starting number. Jupiter, when the two planets are at their closest to each other (assuming shorter distance for slower speed, another lowball), is 365,000,000 miles from Earth. This means the Namekian ship moved 365mil miles in 1 minute.

That puts the Namekian ship at a speed of 21.9 billion miles per hour. They made it to Namek in 30 days of travel. The ship Goku took to Namek made the trip in 5 days. That means Goku's ship is 6 times faster than the Namekian ship. Don't worry, the ship speed DOES matter in this, I promise you.

So Goku's ship moves at 131,400,000,000mph. That's 131 billion, 400 million miles per hour. Or 195x the speed of light.

Why does the ship speed matter so much, you might ask?

Because King Kai could visually keep up with the ship. He was able to track Goku's progress with ease, and could see his ships movements without problems. This means King Kai's eyes and brain are capable of perceiving and processing things that move at 195x the speed of light.

Why does that matter? Because Super Saiyan is canonically a 50x multiplier to ALL base ability. Strength, speed, durability, etc.

And Goku, in Super Saiyan, was moving so fast King Kai stated he could no longer keep up. King Kai, capable of seeing and processing the input of vision on a ship moving 195x the speed of light, could not see or process the input of vision on Super Saiyan Goku.

We'll lowball it, and say Goku only needed to move 1 mph faster than 195x the speed of light for King Kai to lose track of him. So whatever value we get, we'll add 1mph to for Goku's base form speed.

So 195x the speed of light +1mph. 195/50=3.9x the speed of light. That's 2,616,900,000mph, adding in the extra mph makes it 2,616,900,001mph. So Base Form Goku moves at ~3.9x the speed of light, ON NAMEK. Super Saiyan is a 50x multiplier, putting him at ~195x the speed of light. Super Saiyan 2 is a 100x multiplier to Base, so 390x the speed of light. Super Saiyan 3 is a 400x multiplier, so 1,560x the speed of light. Super Saiyan God is a 20,000 multiplier so 78,000x the speed of light. Super Saiyan Blue is a 1 million times multiplier, so 3,900,000x the speed of light. And lastly, Mastered Ultra Instinct is a 300 billion times multipler, so 1.17 trillion times the speed of light.

Why did I bother going through all those multipliers? He wins in Base as of Namek saga lol. Anyway, continuing on to strength now that we've established Base Goku on Namek could move 3.9x faster than the Speed of Light while Saitama could only move at 0.5x the Speed of Light.

Strength. Okay. This one is harder to gauge, but we CAN gauge it. We'll go in terms of level of damage, so human level (would be on-par or less than peak human ability), town level (small towns), city level (large cities), nation level (an entire nation, less than a continent), continent level (one or more nations that span an entire continent), world-surface level (the surface of an Earth-sized planet), Planetary (capable of destroying an entire Earth-sized planet), Solar (capable of destroying a solar system), Galactic (capable of destroying a galaxy), multi-galactic (capable of destroying many galaxies), Universal (capable of destroying an entire universe), Multiversal (capable of destroying multiple universes).

We'll start with Goku this time. Goku's punches are, as of the Battle of Gods arc, strong enough to match Beerus perfectly to nullify the shockwaves of Beerus' attacks. Mind you, the mere shockwave of Beerus' attacks are enough to rip and tear the fabric of the universe itself, as stated by Elder Kai. This puts Goku's punches as being powerful enough to tear the fabric of the universe in when he first obtained Super Saiyan God. Why does this matter for Base Goku? Because Base Goku retained his SSJG power, as stated by Beerus.

So Goku in Base, post-battle of gods, is physically capable of punches that can tear apart the universe from the aftershocks alone. This is important to note because Elder Kai could physically feel the shockwaves from the World of the Kais. This makes Goku Universe-level in strength. This means Goku, post-BoG, in Super Saiyan is 50x stronger than what's needed for Universal, while Goku, as of current manga canon (assuming he didn't actually get any stronger since BoG and is simply more powerful due to new transformations) is capable of a form (Mastered Ultra Instinct) that puts him 300 billion times stronger than minimum Universe level strength.

And Saitama? Where does he fit here? Well, I thought this gap would be bigger honestly? But after researching, it seems the gap isn't all that big. Saitama has, canonically, with a Serious Punch, snuffed out an entire cylinder of stars and presumably every planet, moon, asteroid, and more, at a distance surpassing that of our solar system, and with a diameter surpassing it as well. This puts Saitama's power (if we lowball it MASSIVELY) at Solar. He could, in a single punch, destroy our entire solar system, and he wouldn't even need to be serious to do it. It's worth noting this is coupled with Garou's own Saitama-level Serious Punch, so we can assume this level of power is double Saitama's own.

So how do we determine the specifics? Well, he cleared an area large enough to cover, presumably, half the area of stars destroyed in the path of his and Garou's serious punches.

Through future revelations in the series we learn they didn't "destroy" every star in that path, but likely only several were destroyed, and possibly a galaxy, while the remainder of the void left behind was from the shockwave forcing every other star within range into a new position, creating a void in space that all stars had been moved from, save the few that were in the DIRECT path of their attack.

Another theory is that the Serious Punch^2 simply distorted the photons in the area, resulting in the appearance of a massive void, and this theory is based on the angles in the manga and comments made by other characters that paint Earth as the only thing in real danger from the power of the attack.

To be fair to Saitama, where we would lowball Goku, we'll highball Saitama, and say the Serious Punch^2 outright destroyed every star in the area. That level of power would, naturally, have shockwaves that push nearby stars out of the way AND distort photons in the area, resulting in a massive cone of destruction surrounded by a large cylinder of force.

This puts Saitama at, quite easily, multi-galactic level of strength.

But why did I say this gap isn't as big as I expected? One simple thing. Saitama has canonically punched his way into a different dimension in the manga. That means he's capable of brute-forcing his way out of the bounds of his universe. He is capable of physically destroying the fabric of the universe.

Meaning Saitama's strength is, bare minimum, Universal in close proximity. That puts him, strength-wise, on par with Goku, who through training has become stronger than Super Buu (who was so strong he could shout his way out of the Hyperbolic Time Chamber, a dimension separate from our own), meaning Goku is also Universal in close proximity.

So...while I expected Saitama to be ~Planetary, MAYBE he'd be Solar at most...Research indicates he's actually Universal, or near-Universal, meaning the fight may not be too far a gap after all.

Goku may have Saitama beat on speed (given recent manga events in OPM, I'm willing to allow that Saitama is faster than light speed, but Goku having as many forms as he does (Kaioken, which he can combine with other forms and can hit a multiplier of x100 on top of whatever power he currently has, SSJ1-3, SSJG, SSJB, MUI) means even if Saitama matches Base Goku, he's likely not going to stand up to his stronger forms).

But on strength, I'd wager they're close enough for this fight to be one hell of a battle.

What about Durability? After all, all the strength in the world won't save you if you're as easy to kill as a simple bullet to the head, right?

Goku has withstood universe-ripping punches (from Beerus, the God of Destruction, and based on comments in the manga he's one of the stronger Gods of Destruction too), dimension-tearing attacks (from Goku Black, pre-Fusion), energy blasts that even the Gods of Destruction were nervous of (from Jiren during the Tournament of Power), and he survived multiple blasts from Granolah post-wish buff, who was renowned for his sniping power pre-wish, and post-wish was as powerful as he would be if he had spent every single second of the next 147 years training non-stop with the absolute healthiest amount of rest and physical care, making him, presently, as powerful as he would be at the END of that time, with the price paid being that he only had 3 years to live as he lost 1 year of his lifespan for each power boost.

It was also clear that Granolah was the strongest in the universe...at the time of his wish. Goku and Vegeta, who were already on their way, were not as powerful as Granolah even with their transformations. They became stronger during their fight with him, and stronger still during their fight with Gas (who was more powerful than Granolah after Gas transformed and mastered his transformation).

So we can safely assume Goku is Multiversal in Durability, as he himself was able to output Universal damage with each punch, and he was able to survive hits from beings drastically stronger than himself.

What about Saitama? Well, Saitama was able to survive the force of the Serious Punch^2 and he was able to casually bust his way into another dimension. So his Serious Punch, if he wanted it to, could easily destroy the barrier between universes or dimensions.

And given he survived the force of two of them impacting each other, I would put Saitama at, bare minimum, Universe-level durability. But given he was able to survive prolonged battle against Garou, who is a Power Mimic and has shown Saitama-level strength, we can safely assume Saitama is BEYOND Universal-level durability, and so we can put him right there with Goku at Multiversal durability.

So what do we have so far?

Goku has speed equal to, in Base Form, 3.9x lightspeed, and 1.17 trillion times lightspeed in his most powerful form.

Goku has Universal level strength in Base Form, 300 billion times that in his most powerful form.

Goku has Universal durability in Base Form, Multiversal durability in his most powerful form (300 billion times his Base Form's durability).

Saitama has speed equal to, at minimum, 0.5x lightspeed, and at maximum, if we highball it, 2x lightspeed.

Saitama has Universal strength.

Saitama has Universal durability at minimum, and Multiversal durability at maximum.

At this point, I'm convinced the speed difference between Base Goku and Saitama means nothing. Saitama's durability means even with Base Goku moving at his top speed, his impacts won't be enough to beat Saitama. At top speed Base Goku may be putting out Universal damage, but he's not putting out enough to actually BEAT Saitama. Only injure.

Making me rethink my "Goku wins in Base lol" claim earlier, how dare you!

Anyway, at this point, Goku would HAVE to transform to beat Saitama. His ability to sense power and Saitama's evident inability to suppress it (as evidenced by multiple characters sensing his ungodly power even while Saitama is completely relaxed) would mean Goku would know, right away, he needs to transform for the fight.

Saitama's durability means Goku would likely need Super Saiyan 2 or 3, or, more likely, SSJG. Super Saiyan God's multiplier to Granolah-arc Goku, after all of his training with Whis and Vegeta, would most likely be enough to beat Saitama. And given SSJG is enough to "most likely" beat him, then Super Saiyan Blue (aka Super Saiyan God Super Saiyan, the form above SSJG) is surely enough, and Mastered Ultra Instinct (a form drastically more powerful than SSJB) is absolutely more than enough to beat Saitama.

And given Goku's mastery over the Kaioken technique, and he's been shown to enter Kaioken x 20 while in Super Saiyan Blue for fair amounts of time as of the Moro saga, meaning even if SSB wasn't enough, given MUI is overkill, it's possible SSB x10 or x20 would be.

The point being, Goku wins this fight due to a combination of technique, experience, and power from his transformations. Given Goku is faster than Saitama and would sense his power as Saitama doesn't know how to suppress it, nothing Saitama could do would be a surprise attack to Goku, meaning Goku would have ample opportunity to react to everything Saitama does.

And given the relatively similar strengths the two bear, Goku would recognize he needs to transform to beat Saitama's output.

And given Saitama's greater durability than Base Goku, and greater durability than even what Saitama himself can put out, Goku would see he needs to transform to have enough of his own output to beat Saitama's durability.

Conclusion: Goku would absolutely win this fight, BUT...I'll give Saitama credit where it's due.

Out of everyone on the entire list, Saitama is the fairest matchup here, and the one most likely to give Goku a truly satisfying fight, given it would be a battle on par with those Goku has enjoyed most.

Kingdom Hearts Mickey

K.H. Mickey has a clear power limit and ability set. He is not strong enough, fast enough, smart enough, or durable enough to beat Goku, but he is just enough of a threat for Goku to actually put his guard up, which is why K.H. Mickey would lose; Goku would see it as a fight, unlike with Kevin.

Crash Bandicoot

Crash isn't nearly powerful enough to be a threat to Goku, but he IS insane enough to push Goku to hostility. Goku would feel the need to put effort into getting him away and that is his downfall.

Hatsune Miku

Goku would assume she is a Red Ribbon android and fight her on assumption she's trying to kill him or bring harm to Earth. He would hit her full force expecting her to tank it and she would keel over dead instantly.

Wario

Everything he could possibly do, the Red Ribbon Army has tried and done better, and they've never beaten Goku. Neither would he.

Sans

Lost to a child with slightly above average human determination, and standard human strength and speed. He does not beat Goku.

And just because you specifically told me not to @ you, have this :)

@that-one-enby-onyx

[blueikeproductions]

Hello! Very interesting points, allow you to look at the situation from a slightly different angle! But I'm just going to try to clarify a couple of points from my original question.

Maybe the caste system on Cybertron was not invented in comics, it's hard for me to understand which media influenced which at that time, I joined the fandom very recently. But in the cartoons, in fact, the background of the struggle against the caste system had almost no effect on the main plot and ending.

But this does not negate my claims towards comics that focus on this story. I do not understand why, under such a terrible regime of functionalists, all the "useless" ones were not destroyed or forcibly reformed into more useful mechanisms.

And how can such a regime, where presumably all the mechanisms are some kind of transformer, be rebuilt into a fair society? Build a replacement for everyone? That's why no media about transformers delves into everyday post-war life, because the authors either do not want to think about the functionality of society, or do not know how to build it, or do not know how to work with plots that are not cheap personal dramas. I can't understand how a plot that can be destroyed with a single sneeze can be considered in the fandom as a brilliant world-building and even a good one, it's very bad.

If we talk globally about this plot within the media about transformers and other franchises, then this plot is very popular and it is shown literally everywhere. And I understand that all this was filmed for people, especially for children, but I want an alternative. For people, such stories are understandable and fair, because with few exceptions, you can take a person and raise for any profession or retrain if necessary.

For fantastic races that, like ants, have individuals that are initially very different and exist for different functions, having the same aspirations and psychology as humans looks strange, and looking at it is already boring. I can understand that this cartoon is still made for children, well, but I doubt that the comics were created with the same age rating and for the same age audience.

That is, I want to say that it would be interesting to look at least once in the modern media at an alien or fantastic race for which such a way of life, different from ours, would be a normal and good solution compared to the rest. For some reason, it was possible to find this in the old science fiction, but not now.

I can still recall some such hint as a very casually mentioned moment in Galaxy Force, where, as a difference between Cybertronians and humans, it was shown that Cybertronians are unable to create comfortable and ergonomic rooms without mini-cons. Yes, it's not much, but it was interesting.

In fact, for the reasons you've described, I love the early view of Cybertronians as an artificially created "pseudo-race" who don't have a naturally developed culture, and all they have is borrowing from the creators or other aliens. (Yes, I'm that weird person who likes the idea that transformers were created by quintessons).

This would explain the different attitudes towards the Earth culture from Autobots and Decepticons. Autobots are created as smart household appliances, it is logical for them to adjust and adapt to the lifestyle of quintessons or buyers from other alien races. Decepticons, like military equipment, lack such a function and adaptability, which determines the relationship of the two factions to other cultures. Maybe it sounds stupid and crazy, but why not, I love crazy ideas.

In this scenario, the presence of cultures of Earth and other races on Cybertron looks logical and could even be some kind of side story about the crisis of a borrowed and at some points useless culture, about an attempt to create their own culture and the crisis of its artificiality. Well, or to show how Cybertronians have changed some customs and habits in a funny way for themselves, and not just as shown in the media, that it exists and that's it.

P.S. I'm sorry if something sounds rude, it's not a claim against you, but against the situation as a whole. Well, sometimes it is difficult to get a translator to translate politely and at the same time understandably.

Hi!

Yeah as far as most of the cartoons are concerned, the underlying backstory was the Decepticons wanted power and conquest with the Autobots and their friends there to stop them, with it being Earth’s resources, Mini-Cons, Energon, whatever was trendy that day for toys.

The G1 cartoon was really the only one that kinda explained the history of the Transformers’ origins and their primary functions, with them being Consumer Goods & Military Hardware. Presumably the Aligned Continuity and IDW used this concept as the basis of the caste system/Functionalism, but still couldn’t really flesh it out any better for what they wanted. This concept that the Autobots and Decepticons are less factions but genetically distinct has factored somewhat into Transformers Animated and ReGeneration One, where the later sees Scorponok discover this genetic quirk and sought to use a device to brainwash all Autobots into becoming Decepticons. This was also referenced in Netflix War For Cybertron, where Shockwave wanted to use the Allspark in conjunction with a computer virus that would forcibly reprogram the Autobots into Decepticons.

But as for a peaceful society without functionism, heck if we know what that’s like. No material, as you said, not even IDW, really bothers explaining what that involves. IDW just ends with Transformers and related aliens all crammed alongside humanity on Earth.

IDW2 does the inverse with Cybertron being a cultural potluck of other races before the Great War, but this isn’t really explored as well as it could’ve been.

Truthfully I think the only reason a lot of IDW’s ideas were praised are surface level “it’s deep and mature and adult”, but a lot of the ideas stop working when you think about it for two seconds. Functionism and the Caste System are bad only because they are.. That’s it. And for all the talk of being deep and real, the Functionist Council are hyper cartoonishly evil, right down to being basically the bitter high school nerds shunned by society who became the people in charge out of revenge. They kill other Transformers on a whim when they think they’re obsolete, which seems to be a reference to a Twilight Zone episode, but it lacks the finesse Rod Sterling’s team had to pull it off. The Functionists are stated to Transform into The Key to Vector Sigma, but they never once display the ability to do so, and due to writing contrivances, they can access Vector Sigma anyway without needing to Transform. (It’s all treated as a bit of dark humor btw). And then the Functionists turn their Cybertron into Primus and he is just Unicron for MTMTELL’s finale to Subvert Expectations TM. Meanwhile Unicron is being Unicron in IDW’s grand finale anyway…

The Quintesson origin story I think has become a little more attractive in recent years, both for its meta gag in the TFs being products in-universe, but also the overuse of the Primus origin that reached its peak in the Unicron Trilogy, with most series trying to avoid the Primus origin as best they could. I personally prefer the Quint origin story more and more lately, and with Hasbro doubling down more on Quints and heavier G1 ‘toon ideas, we could see a return to it full scale.

[backgroundcharacterno15]

2, 10, 19 & 21 for the ask game :DDD 💜👹🐴

Yippee tysm ●v●

Gonna kinda use both Mutsuki and Ranmaru here bc they both fit the bill as a muse (apollo didn't quite do it here for me) and as the traumatised tboy swagger

2. is there a song that reminds you of your muse?

Yeah there's quite a few actually (if my spotify were to get a life and stop playing up I'd drop it here) but as of rn the one I'd associate with him the most is probably just take my wallet by jack stauber. His songs are really weird in that they go from being perfect and catchy beats to full scale mental breakdowns and it's difficult to think of one part without thinking of the other too. This is kinda how both Mutsuki and Ranmaru look to me.

10. talk about your writing

I've always been more of a world building and narrative driven kind of person. For me, the plot comes first and then the character's feelings come second (I don't value them less by any means it's just easier for me to think this way). If I do write anything character central, it's more often than not angst. I much prefer to show happier and fluffier emotions through my art than anything. I always get the feeling I'm either under or over describing things and it makes writing without constantly editing impossible. I'm far too scared to post any writing as of right now but when I do it would probably be one of my narrative driven pieces even though they're much less popular.

19. describe love

To deeply cherish and care for someone else. To feel the need to protect them and save them from what hurts them. To take any chance possible to be by their side but also to step away and watch from afar if necessary. Wow I ran out of ideas much quicker than expected no this isn't kinda based on homura akemi wdym

21. do you believe in extraterrestrial life?

I was about to say "have you seen me??" and then I remembered that no you haven't in fact seen me. To clarify I unironically look like the berd emoji IRL. Like it is ridiculously obvious that I have opinions on aliens

But to answer genuinely, I'd say yes. At one point, water was discovered on the surface of Jupiter's moon Europa. Since water is the only thing that keeps othe planets from inhibiting life then it's entirely possible for life to be living near the surface of Europa. Chances are though that as of right now that life is probably in the form of bacteria and other single cellular organisms. I don't doubt that if this bacteria is in fact real, it will eventually evolve into its own fully functional ecosystem in millions of years time. Who knows? Maybe one day they'll inherit the earth after us.

tysm for the ask and I hope you have a wonderful day ^_^

[respondedinkind]

Main Verse: Mixed Alien/Star Trek Into Darkness Verse

Khan Noonien Singh, a name that's well-known amongst most people; A former absolute ruler of more than one-quarter of earth, including areas from Asia to the Middle East, conquered by him and his people during the late-20th century Eugenic Wars period, with Khan having been the most powerful and successful genetically-engineered human augment of them all.

... Or was he?

It is told in almost every book, explained within in every document that's openly accessible to mankind - and yet, one small part of what's known is a lie, carefully constructed to hide the mentioned man's true identity: Because yes, Khan Noonien Singh was genetically-engineered, could be called an Augment of sorts...

But he has never been human to begin with.

Over 300 years ago, a shuttle had crashed upon earth; After finding the vessel, approaching and opening it up, a cryotube was found, holding a young, frozen boy within its cold grasp. The boy was still alive, his vitals weak but stable, and brought back to a facility controlled by the government, where he was unfrozen and successfully held alive.

A series of tests were performed on him, blood- and DNA samples taken, body scanned, catalogued; The resuls left no doubt that the boy was not human, despite his very much human-like appearance. He belonged to a race which called themselves 'Korul', the same name they'd given their home planet - a race feared amongst the ones who knew about them, including the most important people on earth, the information about said race existing kept strictly confidental back at that point. Korul were known to be highly advanced and superior in every way compared to humans, a serious threat which could have eradicated the planet Earth without much struggle if desired.

However, Korul, the planet, had long gotten destroyed in one of their own greatest wars - causing some individuals to flee, others to send out their children in hopes to have them survive while others were forced to stay behind. Khan was one of those children, floated through space for decades before having entered the solar system.

Seeing his existence as an opportunity, one to improve upon mankind, he was kept within the facility and risen there - eventually becoming the reason for 'Project Khan' to exist. He received years of training, his incredible intellect and physical strength developing further and further the older he got - his DNA was taken and crossed with other children solely produced to become super soldiers eventually, while Khan's own genetics were also altered and changed to improve his already superior existence in almost every single way possible.

This, eventually, led to the happenings of the mentioned Eugenic Wars; Khan was deemed to be the leader, and that he became, gathered a following of his genetically-engineered, augmented humans which followed him and stayed loyal to the very last second. Khan did, eventually, rule over one quarter of earth; His reign was ruthless, but also known as the most benevolent and peaceful one of them all - free of most problems that plagued Earth back then, and he never engaged in massacres, genocide or wars of aggression. However, the Augments had started a war amongst themselves after a while, forcing a lot of other nations to join in ('Eugenic Wars') and Khan as well as his people were, in return, declared war criminals. However, Khan as well as eighty-four of his men and women managed to flee before they could be recaptured; Khan managed to take control over a ship which he christened the SS Botany Bay, fled into space and put himself as well as his people into cryotubes in hopes of being asleep until, at some point, they would be able to live another life somewhere else, far away from Earth.

... That didn't happen, though.

They slept for 200 years, longer than expected - Khan's own cryotube had malfunctioned and did not awake him in time, which resulted in the two-century slumber of him and his people. Unfortunately, ten of his people perished because of the prolonged cryosleep, their bodies unable to handle the extended time of being frozen.

Admiral Alexander Marcus was the one to, one day, find the SS Botany Bay floating in space, closer to Earth than expected. He recovered the seventy-five still functioning cryotubes, brought them back to Earth and only awoke Khan, knowing of his past and who he was, since he, as a high-ranked Admiral, had access to the otherwise strictly confidental partners telling about the man's true identity.

Marcus kept Khan under control by holding his people, his beloved crew, hostage; He forced Khan to design weapons and warships while simultaneously having him being experimented and researched on - Marcus' had planned to create his own army of super soldiers, based on the ones from 200 years ago, just better and more controlled, and therefore needed to figure out as much about Khan's unique biology as possible. Khan, whose mind was fierce and not easy to tame, fought against most things that the Admiral wanted him to do at first - that's how two more of his men died, with Khan himself being forced to watch Marcus cut the life-support of the ones that once had sworn eternal loyality to him, promised to live and die by his side, to which he in return had sworn to protect them with his own existence.

This broke him, caused Khan to give Marcus what he wanted; He was held hostage himself this way, used for almost a whole year, before the pain, the sorrow, the exhaustion as well as the mental and physical torture he'd needed to go through made him come up with a plan, one that would allow him and his people to try and escape...

[This is where the plot of Star Trek Into Darkness begins - everything is canon-compliant, the only exception is that Khan is an Alien and not an augmented human, but most people - including Kirk and his crew - do not know about it.]

Possible 'Continuations' of STID:

Version 1 (canon for this Verse): Not canon-compliant. Everything happens as it does in the movie, up to where Kirk and Khan fly through space to infiltrate the Vengeance. Once on board, Kirk does not stun Khan - but Khan does jump into action and tries to kill Marcus because of the anger he feels, the hurt that still sits inside him. Kirk and Scotty as well as Carol Marcus try to stop him, to which he breaks Carol's leg and knocks Scotty out, then punches Kirk until he is also unable to intervene as quickly; Admiral Marcus tries to flee, but Khan gets him before the door can be opened. Khan tries to kill Marcus in the same way as in the movie (by squeezing his head), but Kirk intervenes by talking to him: Telling that Marcus will face trial, will be held accountable for what he did, and that he promises to make sure it happens - simply because Kirk had also planned to allow Khan to go to trial instead of using his own torpedoes on him.

Khan, who has, by then, started to trust the Captain in a few ways, growing to respect him for his actions, can actually be convinced to not execute his plan on turning the man into mush; He does, however, for good measure, spit him in the face before breaking his kneekap with his boot, rendering him unable to move.

Version 2 (not canon for this Verse but can be used with plotting): Canon-compliant. Everything happens as it does in the movie and Khan is being frozen again. Interactions can happen right after - or whenever wanted, really.

Wished for Ending:

Khan faces trial, but receives a milder sentence due to all the evidence that is being offered to court - recordings of Khan being experimented and researched on, recordings of him being forced to watch two of his people die, recordings of Khan needing to work on the vengeance as well as advances weaponery, recordings of Marcus talking about his plans to create a new army of super soldiers to win a Klingon War...

Because of that, and because of Kirk acknowledging that Khan had been willing to help, not betrayed him - or his crew - in any way, it all leads to Khan becoming a (tentative) new crewmember of the Enterprise. He is on probation, of course - but his superior intelligence as well as impeccable body are deemed of good use for the upcoming 5 year mission, so he is allowed on board and from there on 'jumps' in between engineering and security, whatever is more needed at a given time, to offer his knowledge as well as muscle strength either on board or during landing missions. What happens to his crew can be individually discussed: Do they join as well? Are they kept frozen as a 'requirement' first to see whether Khan can adapt to the new world and really does not plan to betray / destroy anyone / anything? Maybe they'll allowed to live on a planet somewhere far away? This will be figured out with each RP partner!

[literaturemandan]

The single-sitting book: a work so good that you could read it all in one go.

The subtitle there includes the word 'could' because sometimes, though you would like to continue reading to the very end without stopping, you simply cannot, because you have to get off the train, or because your lunch break is over, whatever. You know, real life getting in the way. But you definitely *could* keep reading. So I call a single-sitting book one so good that you would read to the end over all other activities, if you were able to.

There's a real joy in finding a book like that. It takes you away from the real world, and you forget all the mundane, stressful and troubling things that are around you. Reading itself, and the act of finding out what happens, and picturing the characters doing their thing in the imaginary world grant a real satisfaction which is similar to, but just a notch above, reading a great book that you are able to put down when you want and resume at another time. It's the *need* to find out what happens that makes it special.

There was one book I read in a single sitting in 2022: Rendezvous With Rama, and another that I could have, if the pub hadn't been closing: Rosemary's Baby. (I finished it next morning without doing anything else except making a cup of coffee.)

Rendezvous With Rama is Arthur C Clarke's story of mankind's first encounter with an alien intelligence, when a ship is detected entering the solar system and the crew of a nearby earthling spaceship is diverted to investigate. Rosemary's Baby by Ira Levin is about a young woman who gets pregnant with her husband after moving in to a desirable New York apartment block and meeting some of their--unconventional--neighbours.

So what makes a book a single-sitting book? Why would we want to keep reading, want to know what happens next so much that we avoid eating, and hold our bladders till the last minute? Well, the story must have a hook: a plot that makes you continually want to know what happens next. From this we see that there must be a *mystery*: we need to wonder what is happening, why things are happening, and must desperately want to know the outcome or reveal. Not just of the main mystery, but perhaps also of all the smaller mysteries that are in place along the way. This means that there must be smaller mysteries in the story, which get revealed slowly, at a satisfying pace, so that we stay in the feedback loop of gaining pleasure from the small reveals at regular intervals, but which don't reveal the whole mystery until the end. Rama has these in abundance. Not just the main 'Where did this ship come from and what is its purpose?' and 'what will happen at perihelion?' (that really is the mystery of the story!) but also: 'how do we open this hatch?' or 'what is that mysterious band running around the centre of the ship, and why is its edge so much higher on the far side?' among several others. And Rama really does give satisfying answers to these questions, each being revealed slowly as the ship is explored, without giving away the final answer. Rosemary has these as well, but the answers are not so clear cut. The smaller reveals can come across as posing more questions than they answer, but we only get the story from a limited third-person perspective (Rosemary's) so that feeds in to the sense of paranoia that develops as the story moves along. We still, however, want to know what happens next, and find out the big reveal.

Second, the book should be short enough that it is *possible* to read in a single sitting. I am quite a slow reader, and others may get further than I would in the space of, say, a day, but I doubt very much that I could read more than 300 pages in a single sitting, and that's a high estimate. Rendezvous is 247 pages long; Rosemary is 257. I think that's a sweet spot there, at least for me.

The writing should be, if not laconic, at least efficient. No need to waste time on unnecessary words. This helps sentences flow better and keeps the plot moving. And, of course, keeps the page count down. Clarke is a very efficient writer: there is very little fluff. Levin's is a little more flowery, but not wasteful at all.

Outside of the novel itself, the reader must *want* to read: not only the novel in front of them, but to read words on a page for pleasure, to be in the place where the novel is set. Without at least some motivation to read, you may not get much out of reading. We've all picked up a book that someone assured us was excellent and then found ourselves bored after a couple of chapters. That might seem to feed back in to the first point about there being a hook, but it must be our hook: we must be the one pulled in to the story. This does not mean that we should only stick with genres we already like, since that would be boring. We should definitely at least try new types of literature.

Lastly, I think a single-sitting book may be one where we don't *try* to finish in a single go. Just start and see where it takes you. You'll know if it's a single-sitter if you just can't pull yourself away from it. Even if it's a thousand page fantasy monster, if the only thing you want while reading is to find out what happens next, that makes it a single-sitting book.

Can we use this to predict what we might read in a single go? I say we ought not to, because like I say above, it's important not to try and force it to occur. But a mystery to be solved, not too long, terse style and something that we already want to read would lead me to the first three Harry Potter novels. I am sure that I have read those in a single sitting (among the roughly 20 times I have read each book). I have another of Clarke's stories ready to go (Childhood's End) so perhaps I will give that a try soon. Or maybe try something completely different: I have never been one for historical novels, but I have The Name of The Rose ready to go, and I know it is a mystery story (though it is about 500 pages long). I guess we'll find out!

[thebidoctors]

disappointed in scully's utter conviction the ship she saw was alien ngl

[beauty-and-passion]

Time to talk about the flower shirt

You read the title. Time to talk about this.

This is the infamous flower shirt Thomas put on in his store and, since the fandom is the fandom, everyone started to speculate about those flowers.

At first, I didn’t want to do it. They’re just flowers and other people already talked about them, so what could I possibly add to the conversation?

But while I was writing about Orange, I had to talk a moment about the orange flower. It was supposed to be a small parenthesis, just a couple of words about that.

But then I looked at the other flowers and what other people told/not told about them and how some didn’t find Patton’s flower... so here I am, adding my two cents to this theme.

You needed it? Probably not. Well, I’m writing it anyway.

So let’s take a closer look at those flowers and see each one in detail:

__________________________________

Roman: Red rose

Should I really explain why it’s perfect for Roman? Red roses are the universal symbol of love. Basically in all cultures red roses symbolize passion, true love, romance and desire. Also, according to this website, even the shade has a meaning! In fact, the deeper the red shade is, the stronger is the passion.

And even the number of red roses has a meaning! In this case, we have only one single red rose and that "represents love at first sight, or if it’s coming from a long-term partner, they are saying “you are still the one”.”

You know what that made me think? About Thomas telling Roman “You’re my hero”. A perfect symbol that he was “still the one” for Thomas.

__________________________________

Orange: Lantana camara

This is an incredibly peculiar flower.

Lantana Camara symbolizes severity and rigour. And this alone can be analyzed in all possible ways, but there are other interesting details about this plant I think it's worth mentioning.

Lantana is toxic for livestock, such as cattle, sheep, horses, dogs and goats. According to Wikipedia, previous studies suggested it could be toxic for humans too, especially the green unripe berries. However "other studies have found evidence which suggests that its fruit poses no risk to humans".

Lantana is a freaking invasive plant. In some areas, it's so predominant, to reduce biodiversity, because its presence "can significantly slow down the regeneration of forests, by preventing the growth of new trees". Also, as if this isn't enough, this plant can also produce toxic chemicals which inhibit other plant species.

Lantana has also a great adaptability, that helped it to be so invasive: it can live in a wide range of different environmental conditions, it can survive long periods without water, heck it's even resistant to fire. It's not a plant you can underestimate. Like Orange, I assume.

But Lantana isn't just an invasive plant. Lantana has always been used for medical purposes, because it showed good antimicrobial, fungicidal and insecticidal properties and its extract helps against respiratory infections and ulcers.

Also, since it doesn't have many pests or diseases, lantana became a common ornamental plant. It even attracts butterflies!

In other words: isn't that the perfect plant to symbolize the double nature of a dark side? It can be a threat, change the environment, destroy and even kill. But it can also be a medicine, something useful, something beautiful.

Whoever Orange is, Lantana camara tells us that, whithout a doubt, he’s a dark side.

__________________________________

Janus: Sunflower

Do you think Janus isn't perfect enough as he is? Do you think there's not enough husband material in the snek?

Well, you’re wrong and the sunflower is here to prove it.

Sunflower symbolizes loyalty, adoration, longevity, vitality, worship. Now add this up to the sunflower’s behaviour and how it follows the sun... and you’ll get Janus. Janus literally acts like a sunflower: Thomas is his sun and everything Janus does is for him. His whole existence is centered around Thomas.

But we already knew that, because it's the same message that shone through his playlist. Everything about Janus tells us how much he adores Thomas, from his canonical behavior in the series, to his playlist, to this flower.

Oh, do you need another proof that this is flower is perfect for Janus? Some societies use sunflowers as religious symbols. Ah, some good ol' reference to religion: it’s like being in his playlist all over again.

And, of course, sunflowers are used for a variety of reasons, like cooking oils, skin care and so on. Even the flower says self care.

This man is perfect.

__________________________________

Remus: Green chrysanthemum

Here's another interesting flower.

Chrysanthemum symbolizes death and it’s the typical flower used for funerals. And I thought this was its universal meaning. It was perfect for Remus just like that.

But then I found out that Europeans use chrysanthemums for funerals and to honor the dead. This flower actually has a whole lot of meanings, some completely different from this.

In China, for example, chrysanthemums are associated with wealth, prosperity and long life. Also they're symbols of new life and reincarnations, so they're the perfect gift for old people or newborns.

While in Japan chrysanthemums are symbols of power and royalty. And that's even more fitting for Remus, because he's a Duke, so he is royalty.

But chrysanthemum also symbolizes friendship - and not just "a friendship", but a meaningful one. It's a symbol of loyalty, devotion, romantic/platonic love and, in general, positive energy. It's a flower with an incredibly strong meaning, so it can't be given too lightly.

And this makes it even more perfect for Remus. It's a flower with a huge plurality of meanings, it's both associated with life and death, it's powerful and it's royalty.

Also, you can eat it. Isn't that the perfect Remus flower?

(On a side note: please notice how chrysanthemums and sunflowers are both associated with joy, loyalty and devotion. I would have never considered "joy" a common trait between Janus and Remus while loyalty and devotion... well, they both care about Thomas and his career and they both work for him despite not being accepted, so I can see why those are common traits.)

__________________________________

Patton: Nemophila

Surprise surprise, this flower wasn't easy to find. I’ve never heard of it, so I had to search among endless lists of blue flowers, hoping to find one that would perfectly match the one on the shirt.

And that’s how I found nemophila.

First of all: nemophila is also known as "Baby Blue Eyes" and it's an extremely rare color to find in nature. It’s very famous in Japan, thanks to the Hitachi Seaside Park. Open this link: it’s a literal sea of blue and it’s absolutely gorgeous. Of course, it attracts people every year.

Nemophila represents prosperity, congratulations on success and victory. Not the first things you would associate with Patton, right?

Well, while I was searching more informations about this flower, I found out this website about the essence of Baby Blue Eyes and the passage I quoted down below has the exact same words you can find on that link:

With its pronounced affinity for water, the Baby Blue Eyes flower essences addresses qualities of tender sensitivity, innocence and trust associated one’s early childhood relationship to the father, or other significant masculine figures that are in some way disturbed.

Very often the father was absent, or there was a lack of support or genuine presence. The Baby Blue Eyes type attempts over time to cover this wound of vulnerability with a false “hardening,” such as emotional distancing, mistrust, cynicism or spiritual alienation. It is a flower that can be equally helpful for men or women, although it is especially needed for many men who struggle to become strong, by disowning their pain.

So nemophilia’s essence has qualities associated with childhood, to the father figure and attempts to “repress” and hide emotions.

That’s Patton. That’s him, period. The childhood-related emotions, that are linked to Patton’s longing for “a simpler time”. The mentions of a father figure - who migh be absent or showing lack of support (like, idk, suggesting you should die so your friends live?). And the attempt to “cover the vulnerability” doesn’t remind you anything? Like the Nostalgia episodes?

This flower is Patton.

__________________________________

Logan: Blue petunia

I would like to say, from the bottom of my heart, a huge "FUCK YOU" to this flower, because I spent TWO DAYS searching all the blue flowers in the world and all possible variants, asking myself why this goddamn flower looked so familiar and why it was so hard to find. Blue isn't even a common color in nature, so why couldn't I find it?

I've learned more about blue flowers in these two days than in my entire life. I've searched among flowers I never saw before, like glandora diffusa, leschenaultia and omphalodes verna. I was so desperate to consider this flower a new species, with the petals of a bellflower and the corolla of a morning glory. I even found a goddamn chinese variant of the morning glory that was somehow similar but not that much and why, WHY this was so hard to find?!

And then, after two days and a lot more desperation, I remembered: my dear friend @reptilianwithscallions​ told me about a post they made, regarding this shirt and the flowers. Maybe they had some idea about Logan's flower?

Well, let's all thank my saviour and this post, because otherwise I would've kept searching until the end of my days.

Long story short, Logan's flower is a fucking blue petunia.

And it's a very peculiar choice, because petunias have multiple meanings, several of which can be contradictory.

In general, petunia symbolizes anger and resentment. It reminds someone that you're still angry or disappointed by their actions and you haven’t gotten over the things that caused these feelings.

Oh my, I didn't know we were back in Logan's playlist. It's basically what he kept expressing towards Thomas with his songs: that he was angry at Thomas for his decision, that he doesn't approve that Thomas hasn't "a real job" and so on. Petunia is a flower that screams passive-aggressive, so it's perfect for Logan.

But petunia's meaning deeply changes, depending on the color of the flower. And while petunia in general symbolizes anger, a blue petunia is a symbol of peacefulness, intimacy and deep trust, shared between two or more people. It's so wholesome, because the deep trust reminds me - again - of Logan's playlist and how it ended: no matter what, he and Thomas are always best friends.

Also, petunia flowers have even a secret meaning behind. Since they’re also gifted to new neighbors or to people who have just moved into a new home, they represent a perfect welcome and a way to express affection and kindness to others.

You’re lucky to be so wholesome, you tricky flower.

__________________________________

Virgil: Perennial Geranium

Geranium is a confused flower.

Some of the other flowers have conflicted meanings, but not as much as this flower. These are the most common meanings I found:

Folly or Stupidity

Gentility and kind nature

Clever minds

Ingenuity

Melancholy

Perfect gift for a bride

You can gift it to someone with whom you have planned a meeting 

You can gift it to someone with whom you haven't planned a meeting, just to make them feel welcomed

True Friendship

See? It’s confused.

Aside from jokes, this variety of meanings is due to its great diffusion: since geraniums grow everywhere, every culture gave them a different meaning. And sometimes these meanings depend on the situation too.

Awww, isn't it perfect for Virgil? He can be good and bad at the same time. Anxiety can be bad for Thomas and detrimental for his life, but it can also be the alarm Thomas needs. It depends on the situation.

And, just like geraniums in general symbolize positive emotions, happiness and friendship, so Virgil is in general a good guy. All he does is for Thomas' wellbeing, not against him.

And this is confirmed by the vast use of geranium's essential oil. It's one of the most popular and it has a ton of properties: anti-viral, anti-bacterial, anti-inflammatory, anti-depressant, decongestant, relaxing and so on. Just like our Virge boy can be incredibly useful under the right circumstances. (Did someone say "Flirting with social Anxiety"?)

Also, geraniums are simple, humble flowers that usually grow outside, but then we take them and make them part of our homes. Once again, it’s Virgil: he's an outsider, he's humble, he talks bad about himself - but Thomas and the others took him and made him part of the famILY anyway.

__________________________________

Thomas: Cherry blossom

I searched this flower everywhere and the only one that looks like the one on the shirt is the cherry blossom. Why did Thomas make a cherry blossom with eight petals, when they all have five? I have no idea. Is this a different flower, maybe? Maybe, but I’m done: I've looked at enough flowers and I don’t have any strength left.

As you probably already know, cherry blossoms are extremely important in Japan. They're beautiful, they're everywhere and they're meaningful.

Why? Because cherry blossoms are considered the perfect metaphor for human existence. When they blossom it's a pink ocean, a party, people go to admire them - but they’re short lived, because in two weeks, the blossoms start to fall. It's just like human life: a small, rich, glorious parenthesis in the void. Something little and precious that ends soon.

But cherry blossoms also symbolize rebirth, optimism, hopes and dreams. When they bloom, it means springtime is coming and spring has always been associated with renewal.

That’s a very good choice for character Thomas. He’s basically a cherry blossom, the whole series is: something that reminds us how beautiful life is, how multi-faceted, how important. Just like Thomas' single being encompasses seven different sides of himself, so life presents a wide range of choices, of aspects, of flavours. All beautiful, all worthy of appreciation, no matter how different they can be from you and your experience.

And this becomes even more important, in relation to the passage of time and the transience of life. Because life is short and, after that, there won't be any more time to appreciate anything.

In addition to that, I would like to point out how the theme of passage of time is something we already saw in the series. And not just one time, but several. Since the first season, we have episodes all around the concept of growing up, growing old, not being a child anymore, becoming an adult. And the last Aside keeps going in this direction. It's clear this is a big theme and its connection with the cherry blossoms proves it.

But why is the flower so different on the shirt? Because Thomas wanted to mess up with us? Probably. Almost certainly. Once again, thank you Mr. Sanders for making me question everything.

The floor is (figuratively) yours now: if you have any other information, thoughts or opinions, feel free to share them.

_______________________________

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[studentofetherium]

i finished Saya no Uta and have thoughts

it's really good! but also clearly still feels very basic compared to what Urobuchi would make later (in particular, Fate/Zero, Madoka, and S I N). part of that comes down to the short length, but Madoka packed its original series into a single cour and managed to be satisfying on its own, so i think the other aspect of this is just coming from it being an earlier project of his

glibly, i wish Fuminori, Saya, and Yoh could have had a happier ending than the one they were given. something with the three of them on their own together without any big events ruining their peaceful life, living off of small carrion and the occasional human. more seriously the three endings for the series are all plenty interesting in their own right. the first ending, earlier than the other two, felt like a possible branch of the narrative that needed to be explored, and even if it wasn’t particularly long, i’m still glad it was included. the other two are also compelling for being completely different while also leaving a big gap between what they’re doing as endings. the lack of a “good end” (outside of my joke earlier) feels fitting— this is a story where nobody is winning, no matter what

the order that i played the endings in seems pretty good, i think. in the first choice, i picked the one that would get me the closer ending, and with the second, i picked the ending that focused on Ryouko more, which meant the ending focusing on Saya was last, which felt most satisfying from a narrative perspective

my second biggest issue with the storytelling is that i think towards the end, there's too much focus given to what Saya is, which is ultimately unimportant to the characters' stories and the main theme of love. the part of Saya that matters is who she is to Fuminori and Ryouko. for one, a lover, for the other, a monster. that’s all we need. unfortunately, further exposition is necessary for the shift into cosmic horror that the back half of the game has. eldritch horror lives on mystery and giving only some answers, but in this case, too much is said so that the narrative item of “Saya as a lover and a monster” becomes “Saya, the interdimensional alien who will colonize earth and turn everyone into meat”. some amount of this exposition was necessary, both to build Saya up as a threat, but also to let the final ending be what it is. the problem is that by the end, too much had been said about Saya and her backstory, which stole a lot of her mystique which she carried in the early game. this issue doesn't ruin the story and i think those eldritch aspects bring a lot to the game, but i wish it had been more cagey about the backstory

obviously, the biggest issue is the use of rape and underage sex. i’m of two minds here. without a doubt, the game went too far in how it portrayed these aspects, but at the same time, i understand why it was included. it’s incredibly uncomfortable, but it’s supposed to be. the problem is that it would be uncomfortable without showing the sex scenes on screen, or even explicitly describing them like happens. i played the censored version, and those CGs ended up being heavily censored, but even that is a step too far. but as i said, it does serve a purpose. Fuminori is a monster and having him do something like this clearly brands him as such, but it could have been more careful and less exploitative about how it presented this

BUT WITH THAT OUT OF THE WAY, there’s a lot of other aspects of the game i really liked

the soundtrack, for one, was all bangers and the entire time serves as a highlight for the entire game, especially the track Schizophrenia and all of Kanako Itou vocal tracks. i can see this being one of the aspects that sticks with me most

most of the designs are pretty dull, but i think it's intentional, as their mundanity makes Saya as a fantastical element stick out more among them. the same is true for Ryouko, who shows up early on but only becomes a major character later on, and with her appearance ushers the story into a faster pacing as exposition becomes more common and we approach the ending. so the designs aren’t really much to talk about, but are such in a way i really appreciate

the meat dimension is great. it’s very visceral and striking especially due to the dated CGI, which gives it an uncanny and otherworldly feeling. turn of the century CGI is always a fascination of mine and i absolutely adore it, but i especially love when it serves a purpose that couldn’t be fulfilled by more technically modern renderings. also love it as body horror which sets the tone for the story early on and continues to work as a striking backdrop for the story later on

Saya no Uta is great. i enjoyed it a lot* ** and i'm glad i played it, but i will never recommend it to anyone unless i know them very well because there are a lot of elements here that are off-putting and debatably abhorrent. the One Problem is big enough to be a deal breaker for many people and that’s fair; it wasn’t for me, but only because i played the censored version. i can’t imagine stomaching this uncensored

but yeah! good game! has problems! both of these are very hot takes that i’m sure no one has ever said before

* minus the child sexualization

** with the caveat that no one ending feels satisfying, even if all of them together make for a good conclusion

[passable-talent]

listen,, im just in the mood for stih!reader. not followed-anakin-to-the-dark reader,,, just straight-up sith, subscribed to the sith, bloodlustful, power-hungry reader x anakin. whether they were a sith before him or a knight pulled to the dark at the same time but separate from him is up to you, but i just want some sexy evil reader <3

two things. one- in planning this one i came up with possibly my most interesting canon ret-con ever. 

two- sorry about the lack of this in the past, with all of my darkfics i just always end up trying to make the reader redeemable or in some ways well-meaning so that it doesnt alienate my,,, readers,,, but as you wish!

that said, i havent gotten to really indulge my absolutely sadistic side in a while and it was uhhhh fun

There was a prophecy to the Jedi, long ago, that one young Jedi would bring balance to the Force. 

And to the Sith was a prophecy that there would be a Dyad in the Force, one whose power would give rise to the power of the Sith.

Sheev Palpatine, tasked with finding an apprentice more powerful than he, who could possibly be within the Dyad, went through many apprentices in very quick succession, each destroyed by the Jedi before they could gain true power. There was only one apprentice who escaped the Jedi unscathed- a young former scrapper from a planet so unexceptional it didn’t even have a name. 

You had struggled from the moment you could walk. You had built yourself up, with no help, no guidance. From a difficult child to a violent teenager, you fashioned yourself weapons, taught yourself to fight. When others tried to lay claim to what you owned, you cut them down. 

So naturally, when he discovered you, Darth Sidious gave you a lightsaber. 

With your skill in mundane weapons came an adaptability into the divine, and you were quickly nearly as skilled with a light saber as his last three apprentices, combined. He believed that your innate skill and exorbitant midi-chlorian count meant that you must be one half of the prophesized Dyad, and with the formation of a Force bond, he could do what his master had not, and become the other half. He just needed to build your power. 

Each time he praised you, the hole in your soul grew larger, wanting more, needing it. You had come from nothing- so now, you wanted everything. You wanted to be the most skilled. You wanted to be the most powerful. You wanted to be the strongest and the fastest and the best.

So imagine your anger when you came across a little Jedi padawan who you could not defeat. 

Anakin Skywalker was the golden boy of the Jedi, and it had gone to his head. He was nineteen, and already more skilled than his master, and most of the masters on the council. Of course he would try to kill a Sith apprentice, when one crossed his path.

Imagine, two young prodigies, on opposite sides of a millennia-long war, each convinced that nothing could stand in their way. Imagine no one winning the battle, and both going home unscathed.

Imagine how it would drive them mad. 

Darth Sidious could not be seen without risking his discovery, so you often did what he needed. You wouldn’t complain- each successful mission would ease your hunger for victory and power, if only for a moment. You were cunning, and only unleashed your brutality when it was necessary, but Anakin- Anakin had the key to the cage that held your rage, and he opened it every time you saw him. 

His master, the other Jedi, those you would dispose of easily, not caring enough to kill them, just doing enough to get them out of your way, so that you could face him. Every time you failed to kill him, you got angrier, until you felt nothing but rage when you saw him. How dare he challenge your supremacy, your skill. How dare he live and breathe, proof that you weren’t unbeatable. 

In the dark side of the Force, with this conflict came uncertainty- no matter how Palpatine promised that his blood-soaked and rage-filled apprentice was the most skilled in the galaxy, he began to doubt. He began to wonder if Anakin was truly the apprentice he’d been seeking. 

In the light side of the Force, Master Yoda began to understand what Anakin’s prophecy had truly meant- Anakin was meant to be the light’s balance to the dark that you carried in your heart. 

Against the numbers of the Jedi, you were at a disadvantage, but you weren’t concerned with odds, not when you were the most talented Sith that had ever lived. All you felt that you lacked was the wisdom of the Sith who had come before you, and so you often meditated, trying to reach them. Darth Plagueis in particular guided your mind many a night. 

But something was off about your meditation, this day. You couldn’t reach your grandmaster, and a sick, disjointed sensation rolled in waves through your skin. Breaking your concentration, you opened your eyes.

And seated in front of you was Anakin Skywalker. 

“You-” you snarled, immediately calling your saber to your hand. He held his hand up, though, and something about the motion made you pause. 

“I’m not really here,” he said, then looked around. “Can you see where I am? I can’t see where you are.” You narrowed your eyes, suspicious and still angry, but now curious. You slid from your meditative sit and onto your knees, slinking toward him on your hands before reaching out to touch his shoulder. 

“You mean you didn’t reach out to me?” You asked, tilting your head, expression still distrustful.

“No, I thought you called to me.” You locked your eyes with his, reaching forward with the Force to feel him, his presence. He seemed to feel you doing so, but did not resist, and in fact did the same. Reaching deep into his heart, you found a surprising spot of cold- and latched onto it, holding it, unlocking its secrets. This, you could use.

“You don’t trust the Jedi,” you said, a smirk curling on your lips. His eyes widened briefly, which made you realize just how correct you were. Maybe it wasn’t so bad that he was so skilled- if it could be used in service of the dark. 

“The Jedi stifle me,” he conceded, and from your connection you’d forged into his soul you felt a spark of fire, that so-familiar rage. This time, the emotion wasn’t yours, but his. 

“The Sith will not,” you promised, and sat back down, much closer to him now. 

“The Sith must be destroyed,” he snarled, and you were in your element now, you were finally in control. After all this time, you were winning a victory against Anakin Skywalker.

“Why? We seek to bring order. I seek my fullest potential. Isn’t that what you’re doing? What the Jedi aren’t letting you do?”

“Shut up,” he groaned, looking away, and so you leaned closer, lifting your chin, beginning to smile. 

“We’ve fought in the past, Anakin,” you breathed, “But I promise you this- I would help you the way no Jedi would think to.” 

You felt it when his entire presence in the Force sparked, and then disappeared. It seemed that he’d grown too distracted to keep your connection. 

Speaking of that- how could you have had such a connection? 

Sure, you’d felt his presence in the Force before, but only when you fought, when your souls clashed as brightly as your sabers. This was new, very new, and in all your teachings you had heard of nothing like it. 

Nothing- nothing but a Dyad. The Dyad. 

Sidious was right, in everything he had ever told you- you were of the Dyad, you were the Sith meant to experience power like none before you had, you were the one the prophecies had spoken of. But Palpatine wasn’t the other half, the way that the Rule of Two would’ve expected it- the other half of the Dyad was instead a young Jedi.

Master Yoda felt a disturbance in the Force as you realized it- as your dark hunger pulsed out of your body, satisfaction with knowing that it was all true making you feel powerful. The destiny you had been promised, you now knew for certain, was rightfully yours. 

You only had two problems, both easy to fix. The first- your Dyad partner needed to join the Sith. Only then would you be fully unstoppable, only then would no one be able to stand in your way. 

And the Second? Anakin becoming a Sith would violate the Rule of Two. Meaning that there would be three Sith where there was only room for two.

So you needed to be rid of Sidious. Such was a plan for another day. 

The Clone Wars were a Sith’s playground- Sidious’ extraneous apprentices, Dooku and Ventress, took care of most of the messy battles. Fighting clones, negotiating with the Trade Federation, such things were beneath you. Your specialty, your joy, was in the destruction of the Jedi. Every single Jedi death in the Clone Wars was at your hand. 

And though you clashed with Anakin, the roles had been reversed- now twenty-two and sure of your destiny, you fought not to kill Anakin, but to show him the power of the dark, the power you wielded. He fought the way you had as a teenager, full of rage and murderous intent. Tortured as his missions were by you, he could not escape you in meditation, nor in sleep. You walked his dreams, making him wake with not anger but want, something that he hid from everyone, even his master. In his meditation you would appear before him, promising things that he only believed because they left your mouth. 

“Anakin Skywalker is at his most powerful when he’s at my side.”

No Jedi sensed the rising darkness in Anakin Skywalker, just as you expected. Jedi are incapable of seeing past what they believe. They know that the Sith have returned, and still are blind to the power of the Dark!

The Sith, though... the Sith sensed his power. You sensed it, of course, reaching into his soul any time you could, grooming and nurturing the darkness he’d begun to share. And Sidious felt it, too. 

So he took an interest in Anakin Skywalker. 

He grew closer to Anakin through their mutual friendship with Senator Amidala. Palpatine promised Anakin balance, salvation from the worries he carried with him. 

And he began to pull away from you, which certainly did not sit well. You were the most powerful Sith in generations, more powerful than even him, and he dared think you could be replaced? Not only he thought you could be replaced, but he dared set up such a replacement as though you wouldn’t notice?

No. 

You were stronger than that. Smarter. There was three where there should be two, and if your counterpart in the Force was meant to bring balance, weren’t you meant to, as well?

So you took advantage of the age and weakness of Palpatine’s body. You poisoned him, slowly, deteriorating him, so that all that kept him alive was the Force, and he had no strength of his own. 

And then you told him everything. 

“An apprentice, when they are no longer fit for the teachings of the Sith, is replaced,” you said, your scarlet saber humming, its life and energy filling your body, like it had a thousand times. “Which is why you have grown interested in Anakin Skywalker. I have learned from you, my master, I see through your deception. You wish him to take my place.” 

Your darkness invaded your smile, an emptiness invading your stomach that the deaths of dozens of Jedi had yet to fill.

“He will,” you promised, “He will be one of the most amazing Sith there has ever been. And he will fulfill the prophecy of the Dyad, just as you suspect.” 

Sidious didn’t even have the time to ask how you knew before you buried three feet of plasma in his body. 

You didn’t remove the saber, just let it rise and fall with the laboured breathing of an old man. 

“Without your help, Sidious,” you snarled, “I have pulled Anakin Skywalker to the Dark Side. I have found the Dyad, the one spoken of in prophecy- I have felt it pull he and I together. And without your help, I will purge the Jedi from the galaxy.” You ripped the saber from his body, separating his chest from his stomach.

As Palpatine breathed his last breath, you had an unexpected visitor- a few of them, actually. Masters Kit Fisto, Agen Kolar, Saesee Tiin, and Mace Windu each entered Palpatine’s office, sabers ignited and prepared for a duel with a Sith Master. 

But they didn’t expect it to be the one that now stood before them. 

Master Mace Windu knew of you- knew of the Sith apprentice who had a hunger for power so strong that it was meant to outgrow their master. He knew that you had killed countless Jedi, and would kill countless more, if given the chance. So he wasted no time in changing his intentions for the evening. 

“In the name of the Galactic Senate of the Republic,” Windu said, igniting his saber, “You’re under arrest.” Your lightsaber still humming with the blood it had taken, you turned to him over your shoulder, canine tooth glinting from underneath a disturbing smile. 

“And what are the charges?” you asked, calm as though you could predict the exact outcome of the match. “I’ve just killed your Sith Lord. Surely that must count for something.” 

You focused the Force within you, sending it to the one person who you needed the most- and you showed him the way that four Jedi looked at you, threatened you.

“The Senate will decide your fate,” Windu threatened, and you tilted your head. 

“The Senate just lost their chancellor,” you said with a small laugh, “I don’t believe they’ll be deciding anything for a while.” 

It was all too easy to destroy them. Fisto, Kolar, Tiin, they were no challenge. Neither was Windu, but you needed him to believe he was gaining the upper hand- for Anakin was back on Coruscant, hurrying to your location, seeing through your eyes the way that Windu meant to murder you. 

Feigning weakness, you opened your chest, which Windu rewarded with a strong kick, and you fell to your back, little groans and whimpers of fear leaving you as you scrambled backwards, and you could feel it, you could feel the way Anakin was running toward you, feel his desperation to protect you, even if he tried to disguise it with democracy. 

“You are under arrest,” Windu hissed, his saber pointed to your nose. 

And then, there- the man whose presence you had once loathed, and now craved. Anakin was here, with those lovely blue eyes, that curly hair, that body that deserved to rule the galaxy by your side. 

“Anakin,” you said, chest rising and falling in panicked breaths, “Anakin, I killed Palpatine, I- I’m trying to help, I’m trying to help you!”

“You killed him to take his place,” Windu said, and your eyes narrowed. “But you have lost.” You reached out as though to call your saber back to you, but didn’t actually use the Force- which made it seem as though Windu overpowered you when he grabbed your throat and lifted you from the floor. Letting your body hang limp, you clawed at your throat, breathing ragged, and this- this was your chance. 

You turned your gaze to him.

“Anakin,” you breathed, desperation, love, in your eyes. “Anakin, please...” He’d heard you say that word before, sounding just the same, in dreams of soft touches and tangled sheets. He’d seen the way you looked at him, when he met you on the battlegrounds, and you seemed to enjoy his skill. All too familiar was the curve of your neck, the flex of your muscles, as you fought against a grip on your throat.

“Please, Anakin,” you whispered, “I love you.” 

“They are a traitor, Anakin!” Windu snarled, arm extended toward you. “Don’t listen!” You weren’t choking, not quite, but blood was being cut off, and you were starting to get woozy. You pushed the feeling through your bond to Anakin, proving to him how desperate the situation was becoming. 

“Please,” you said, mouth gaping for a moment as you struggled to breathe, eyes briefly rolling back in your head. “Don’t let him kill me.” Windu dropped you, and you crashed to the floor, coughing and sputtering, letting them both believe your limbs were too tired to hold you up. 

“I am going to end this,” Windu said, conviction in his tone, “Once and for all.” 

“You can’t,” Anakin said, and dark satisfaction pulsed deep in your chest. With those two words, you knew how this day would end. “They must stand trial.” 

“They are a Sith Lord! They're too dangerous to be left alive!” Curled up on your side, you didn’t look dangerous- you looked pitiful, coughing to regain your breath, tears rolling down your face. 

“Please don’t kill me,” you sobbed, and in Anakin’s heart you felt resolve- you knew he wouldn’t let you die. 

“It’s not the Jedi way!” Anakin said, “They must live!” You raised your eyes to Windu’s, and saw no remorse in them.

“Please, no-” you whimpered.

“I need them!” Anakin shouted, but Windu lifted his saber anyway. Anakin reacted in an instant, igniting his saber and slashing it through Windu’s arm, the distinctive purple saber now lost to the window and the streets of Coruscant below. 

You smiled.

In an instant you flipped onto your hands, swiping Windu’s legs out from under him, and he could do nothing to stop his fall. Anakin fell to his knees, shocked, and ashamed of what he’d done. 

“Anakin!” you said, rushing toward him, and finally, finally you could feel what you had in dreams, what you’d longed to- you threw your arms around him, burying your face in his neck. “Anakin, you saved me.” He hugged you back, slowly, and there was nothing else to compare to this. 

You had been prophesized to be the Jedi and Sith who would bring balance and rule, and finally, after all this time, you were together. Not on the opposite sides of a battle, not in a connection, not in a dream, but in reality, in each other’s arms. 

Together, you were more powerful than any Jedi or any Sith had ever been. You could feel it already. 

“Thank you,” you breathed, pulling away far enough to brush back his hair, but his eyes were heavy with sorrow and regret. “Ani, love, look at me-” His gaze met yours, and nothing else in the universe had ever been so beautiful. 

“I love you,” you promised again, and pressed your lips to his. The Force itself seemed to rejoice in you finally meeting, and now, all that was left to do was to ensure he stayed by your side. 

“Finally, we’re on the same side,” you breathed, and you felt the way he bristled. 

“The Jedi won’t see it that way.”

“The Jedi don’t understand- and they’re traitors, anyway, plotting to destroy the Republic, all this time. We have to rebuild the Jedi Order. We can make things the way we want them to be.” Anakin seemed to consider, so you pulled yourself closer to him, holding him just the way you remembered, in all those dreams you’d shared. 

“We don’t have to run away anymore,” he said, and you cupped his face. 

“No,” you said, “We don’t have to hide.” 

“The Jedi turned against me,” Anakin said, his voice low, and you felt that darkness in his body grow. 

“I know, love,” you breathed, brushing back his hair. “But I’m here. I’m still here.” Anakin leaned forward, holding you close by your lower back and kissed you, and you felt it- you felt hunger in his body, you tasted it on his lips. He rocked forward, laying you down on your back, even as you kept your arms around his neck. 

And as you surrendered control, you almost had to laugh- he had no idea how much power you had over him. 

-🦌 Roe

part 2 | part 3

[ot3]

i watched red vs blue: zero with my dear friends today and i was asked to “post” my “thoughts” on the subject. Please do not click this readmore unless, for some reason, you want to read three thousand words on the subject of red vs blue: zero critical analysis. i highly doubt that’s the reason anyone is following me, but hey. 

anyway. here you have it. 

Here are my opinions on RVB0 as someone who has quite literally no nostalgia for any older RVB content. I’ve seen seasons 1-13 once and bits and pieces of it more than once here and there, but I only saw it for the first time within the past couple of months. I’ve literally never seen any other RT/AH content. I can name a few people who worked on OG Red vs. Blue but other than Mounty Oum I have NO idea who is responsible for what, really, or what anything else they’ve ever worked on is, or whether or not they’re awful people. I know even less about the people making RVB0 - All I know is that the main writer is named Torrian but I honestly don’t even know if that’s a first name, a last name, or a moniker. All this to say; nothing about my criticism is rooted in any perceived slight against the franchise or branding by the new staff members, because I don’t know or care about any of it. In fact, I’m going to try and avoid any direct comparison between RVB0 and earlier seasons of RVB as a means of critique until the very end, where I’ll look at that relationship specifically.

So here is my opinion of RVB0 as it stands right now:

1. The Writing

Everything about RVB0 feels as if it was written by a first-time writer who hasn’t learned to kill his darlings. The narrative is both simultaneously far too full, leaving very little breathing room for character interaction, and oddly sparse, with a story that lacks any meaningful takeaway, interesting ideas, or genuine emotional connection. It also feels like it’s for a very much younger audience - I don’t mean this as a negative at all. I love tv for kids. I watch more TV for kids than I do for adults, mostly, but I think it’s important to address this because a lot of the time ‘this is for kids’ is used to act like you’re not allowed to critique a narrative thoroughly. It definitely changes the way you critique it, but the critique can still be in good faith.  I watched the entirety of RVB0 only after it was finished, in one sitting, and I was giving it my full attention, essentially like it was a movie. I’m going to assume it was much better to watch in chunks, because as it stood, there was literally no time built into the narrative to process the events that had just transpired, or try and predict what events might be coming in the future. When there’s no time to think about the narrative as you’re watching it, the narrative ends up as being something that happens to the audience, not something they engage with. It’s like the difference between taking notes during a lecture or just sitting and listening. If you’re making no attempt to actively process what’s happening, it doesn’t stick in your mind well. I found myself struggling to recall the events and explanations that had immediately transpired because as soon as one thing had happened, another thing was already happening, and it was like a mental juggling act to try and figure out which information was important enough to dwell on in the time we were given to dwell on it.

Which brings me to another point - pacing. Every event in the show, whether a character moment, a plot moment, or a fight scene, felt like it was supposed to land with almost the exact same amount of emotional weight. It all felt like The Most Important Thing that had Yet Happened. And I understand that this is done as an attempt to squeeze as much as possible out of a rather short runtime, but it fundamentally fails. When everything is the most important thing happening, it all fades into static. That’s what most of 0’s narrative was to me: static. It’s only been a few hours since I watched it but I had to go step by step and type out all of the story beats I could remember and run it by my friends who are much more enthusiastic RVB fans than I am to make sure I hadn’t missed or forgotten anything. I hadn’t, apparently, but the fact that my takeaway from the show was pretty accurate and also disappointingly lackluster says a lot. Strangely enough, the most interesting thing the show alluded to - a holo echo, or whatever the term they used was - was one of the things least extrapolated upon in the show’s incredibly bulky exposition. Benefit of the doubt says that’s something they’ll explore in future seasons (are they getting more? Is that planned? I just realized I don’t actually know.)

And bulky it was! I have quite honestly never seen such flagrant disregard for the rule of “show, don’t tell.” There was not a single ounce of subtlety or implication involved in the storytelling of RVB0. Something was either told to you explicitly, or almost entirely absent from the narrative. Essentially zilch in between. We are told the dynamic the characters have with each other, and their personality pros and cons are listed for us conveniently by Carolina. The plot develops in exposition dumps. This is partially due to the series’ short runtime, but is also very much a result of how that runtime was then used by the writers. They sacrificed a massive chunk of their show for the sake of cramming in a ton of fight scenes, and if they wanted to keep all of those fight scenes, it would have been necessary to pare down their story and characters proportionally in comparison, but they didn’t do that either. They wanted to have it both ways and there simply wasn’t enough time for it. 

The story itself is… uninteresting. It plays out more like the flimsy premise of a video game quest rather than a piece of media to be meaningfully engaged with. RVB0 is I think something I would be pitched by a guy who thinks the MCU and BNHA are the best storytelling to come out of the past decade. It is nothing but tropes. And I hate having to use this as an insult! I love tropes. The worst thing about RVB0 is that nothing it does is wholly unforgivable in its own right. Hunter x Hunter, a phenomenal shonen, is notoriously filled with pages upon pages of detailed exposition and explanations of things, and I absolutely love it. Leverage, my favorite TV show of all time, is literally nothing but a five man band who has to learn to work as a team while seemingly systematically hitting a checklist of every relevant trope in the book. Pacific Rim is an incredibly straightforward good guys vs giant monsters blockbuster to show off some cool fight scenes such as a big robot cutting an alien in half with a giant sword, and it’s some of the most fun I ever have watching a movie. Something being derivative, clunky, poorly executed in some specific areas, narratively weak, or any single one of these flaws, is perfectly fine assuming it’s done with the intention and care that’s necessary to make the good parts shine more. I’ll forgive literally any crime a piece of media commits as long as it’s interesting and/or enjoyable to consume. RVB0 is not that. I’m not sure what the main point of RVB0 was supposed to be, because it seemingly succeeds at nothing. It has absolutely nothing new or innovative to justify its lack of concern for traditional storytelling conventions. Based solely on the amount of screentime things were given, I’d be inclined to say the narrative existed mostly to give flimsy pretense for the fight scenes, but that’s an entire other can of worms.

2. The Visuals + Fights

I have no qualms with things that are all style and no substance. Sometimes you just want to see pretty colors moving on the screen for a while or watch some cool bad guys and monsters or whatever get punched. RVB0 was not this either. The show fundamentally lacked a coherent aesthetic vision. Much of the show had a rather generic sci-fi feel to it with the biggest standouts to this being the very noir looking cityscape, which my friends and I all immediately joked looked like something from a batman game, or the temple, which my friends and I all immediately joked looked like a world of warcraft raid. They were obviously attempting to get variety in their environment design, which I appreciate, but they did this without having a coherent enough visual language to feel like it was all part of the same world. In general, there was also just a lack of visual clarity or strong shots. The value range in any given scene was poor, the compositions and framing were functional at best, and the character animation was unpleasantly exaggerated. It just doesn’t really look that good beyond fancy rendering techniques.

The fight scenes are their entire own beast. Since ‘FIGHT SCENE’ is the largest single category of scenes in the show, they definitely feel worth looking at with a genuine critical eye. Or, at least, I’d like to, but honestly half the time I found myself almost unable to look at them. The camera is rarely still long enough to really enjoy what you’re watching - tracking the motion of the character AND the camera at such constant breakneck high speeds left little time to appreciate any nuances that might have been present in the choreography or character animation. I tried, believe me, I really did, but the fight scenes leave one with the same sort of dizzy convoluted spectacle as a Michael Bay transformers movie. They also really lacked the impact fight scenes are supposed to have.

It’s hard to have a good, memorable fight scene without it doing one of three things: 1. Showing off innovative or creative fighting styles and choreography 2. Making use of the fight’s setting or environment in an engaging and visually interesting way or 3. Further exploring a character’s personality or actions by the way they fight. It’s also hard to do one of these things on its own without at least touching a bit on the other two. For the most part, I find RVB0’s fight scenes fail to do this. Other than rather surface level insubstantial factors, there was little to visually distinguish any of RVB0’s fight scenes from each other. Not only did I find a lot of them difficult to watch and unappealing, I found them all difficult to watch and unappealing in an almost identical way. They felt incredibly interchangeable and very generic. If you could take a fight scene and change the location it was set and also change which characters were participating and have very little change, it’s probably not a good fight scene. 

I think “generic” is really just the defining word of RVB0 and I think that’s also why it falls short in the humor department  as well.

3. The Comedy

Funny shit is hard to write and humor is also incredibly subjective but I definitely got almost no laughs out of RVB0. I think a total of three. By far the best joke was Carolina having a cast on top of her armor, which, I must stress, is an incredibly funny gag and I love it. But overall I think the humor fell short because it felt like it was tacked on more than a natural and intentional part of this world and these characters. A lot of the jokes felt like they were just thrown in wherever they’d fit, without any build up to punchlines and with little regard for what sort of joke each character would make. Like, there was some, obviously Raymond’s sense of humor had the most character to it, but the character-oriented humor still felt very weak. When focusing on character-driven humor, there’s a LOT you can establish about characters based on what sort of jokes they choose to make, who they’re picking as the punchlines of these jokes, and who their in-universe audience for the jokes is. In RVB0, the jokes all felt very immersion-breaking and self aware, directed wholly towards the audience rather than occurring as a natural result of interplay between the characters. This is partially due to how lackluster the character writing was overall, and the previously stated tight timing, but also definitely due to a lack of a real understanding about what makes a joke land. 

A rule of thumb I personally hold for comedy is that, when push comes to shove, more specific is always going to be more funny. The example I gave when trying to explain this was this:

saying two characters had awkward sex in a movie theater: funny

saying two characters had an awkward handjob in a cinemark: even funnier

saying two characters spent 54 minutes of 11:14's 1:26 runtime trying out some uncomfortably-angled hand stuff in the back of a dilapidated cinemark that lost funding halfway through retrofitting into a dinner theater: the funniest

The more specific a joke is, the more it relies on an in-depth understanding of the characters and world you’re dealing with and the more ‘realistic’ it feels within the context of your media. Especially with this kind of humor. When you’re joking with your friends, you don’t go for stock-humor that could be pulled out of a joke book, you go for the specific. You aim for the weak spots. If a set of jokes could be blindly transplanted into another world, onto another cast of characters, then it’s far too generic to be truly funny or memorable. I don’t think there’s a single joke in RVB0 where the humor of it hinged upon the characters or the setting.

Then there’s the issue of situational comedy and physical comedy. This is really where the humor being ‘tacked on’ shows the most. Once again, part of what makes actually solid comedy land properly is it feeling like a natural result of the world you have established. Real life is absurd and comical situations can be found even in the midst of some pretty grim context, and that’s why black comedy is successful, and why comedy shows are allowed to dip into heavier subject matter from time to time, or why dramas often search for levity in humor. It’s a natural part of being human to find humor in almost any situation. The key thing, though, once again, is finding it in the situation. Many of RVB0’s attempts at humor, once again, feel like they would be the exact same jokes when stripped from their context, and that’s almost never good. A pretty fundamental concept in both storytelling in general but particularly comedy writing is ‘setup and payoff’. No joke in RVB0 is a reward for a seemingly innocuous event in an earlier scene or for an overlooked piece of environmental design. The jokes pop in when there’s time for them in between all the exposition and fighting, and are gone as soon as they’re done. There’s no long term, underlying comedic throughline to give any sense of coherence or intent to the sense of humor the show is trying to establish. Every joke is an isolated one-off quip or one-liner, and it fails to engage the audience in a meaningful way.

All together, each individual component of RVB0 feels like it was conjured up independently, without any concern to how it interacted with the larger product they were creating. And I think this is really where it all falls apart. RVB0 feels criminally generic in a way reminiscent of mass-market media which at least has the luxury of attributing these flaws, this complete and total watering down of anything unique, to heavy oversight and large teams with competing visions. But I don’t think that’s the case for RVB0. I don’t know much about what the pipeline is like for this show, but I feel like the fundamental problem it suffers from is a lack of heart.

In comparison to Red vs. Blue

Let's face it. This is a terrible successor to Red vs. Blue. I wouldn’t care if NONE of the old characters were in it - that’s not my problem. I haven’t seen past season 13 because from what I heard the show already jumped the shark a bit and then some. That’s not what makes it a poor follow up. What makes it a bad successor is that it fundamentally lacks any of the aspects of the OG RVB that made it unique or appealing at all. I find myself wondering what Torrian is trying to say with RVB0 and quite literally the only answer I find myself falling back onto is that he isn’t trying to say anything at all. Regardless of what you feel about the original RVB, it undeniably had things to say. The opening “why are we here” speech does an excellent job at establishing that this is a show intended to poke fun at the misery of bureaucracy and subservience to nonsensical systems, not just in the context of military life, but in a very broad-strokes way almost any middle-class worker can relate to. At the end of the day, fiction is at its best when it resonates with some aspect of its audience’s life. I know instantly which parts of the original Red vs Blue I’m supposed to relate to. I can’t say anything even close to that about 0.

RVB is an absurdist parody that heavily satirizes aspects of the military and life as a low-on-the-food-chain worker in general that almost it’s entire target audience will be familiar with. The most significant draw of the show to me was how the dialogue felt like listening to my friends bicker with each other in our group chats. It required no effort for me to connect with and although the narrative never outright looked to the camera and explained ‘we are critiquing the military’s stupid red tape and self-fullfilling eternal conflict’ they didn’t need to, because the writing trusted itself and its audience enough to believe this could be conveyed. It is, in a way, the complete antithesis to the badass superhero macho military man protagonist that we all know so well. RVB was saying something, and it was saying it in a rather novel format.

Nothing about RVB0 is novel. Nothing about RVB0 says anything. Nothing about it compels me to relate to any of these characters or their situations. RVB0 doesn’t feel like absurdism, or satire. RVB0 feels like it is, completely uncritically, the exact media that RVB itself was riffing off of. Both RVB0 and RVB when you watch them give you the feeling that what you’re seeing here is kids on a playground larping with toy soldiers. It’s all ridiculous and over the top cliche stupid garbage where each side is trying to one-up the other. The critical difference is, in RVB, we’re supposed to look at this and laugh at how ridiculous this is. In RVB0 we’re supposed to unironically think this is all pretty badass. 

The PFL arc of the original RVB existed to show us that setting up an elite team of supersoldiers with special powers was something done in bad faith, with poor outcomes, that left everyone involved either cruel, damaged, or dead. It was a bad thing. And what we’re seeing in RVB0 is the same premise, except, this time it’s good. We’re supposed to root for this format. RVB0 feels much more like a demo reel, cutscenes from a video game that doesn’t exist, or a shonen anime fanboy’s journal scribbling than it feels like a piece of media with any objective value in any area.  In every area that RVB was anti-establishment, RVB0 is pure undiluted establishment through and through.  

[sunnysviolin]

Choices (Rewrite)

Hey guys! I decided to do a rewrite of Choices because I felt like I could expand on it a bit more. You can also read it on ao3 here but because this fic was originally just on here, I thought I would also post it on here

Her son was still asleep.

The house was bright with the afternoon light, sun spilling in from all of the windows. It was one of the things she loved most about her home, how much light it was able to bring in. From the big wide windows in the piano room, to the tiny one overlooking the staircase. Even though it was small it filled the room with brightness. Even the sliding glass doors brought in the sunshine, although she almost never opened the curtains anymore. The light touched everything in the house, the empty stairwell, the miscolored walls, the dozens and dozens of cardboard boxes stacked precariously on top of one another.

Sometimes the memories floated up from where she had tampered them down, catching on a thought floating in her head and coming up to the surface. The light in the house made her think of the windows, and the windows made her think of the piano, the one piece of furniture she was leaving behind, and the piano made her think of the day they bought the house.

She had been pregnant by then, just beginning to show. They had told their respective parents earlier that month on the first trimester mark, and all four had been pleased. It felt good to earn Takashi’s parents approval, it may have only come from the child growing in her, but she was happy to have it. Anything would beat the icy stares and cold judgement that they had when he first brought her home for dinner.

The day they bought the house was also the day they found out they were having a girl. Cold gel on her belly and a monitor pressing against her, and there was a picture of their daughter. She still looked more like an alien than a baby, but she had little fingers and little toes, and her doctor said that the baby was a girl. She couldn’t have been more excited.

She had been hesitant about buying the house at first, scared of the possibilities. Could they afford the house with everything the baby might need? Was the house too big, was it safe enough for their child? Takashi had assured her that everything would be fine, but the doubts were still egging at her, even on this final day that they could possibly turn back. It was the piano that changed her mind. The piano, and her daughter.

As she stood in the doorway of the room that had the piano, she rested a hand on her stomach. Her mind was still reeling from the knowledge that there was in fact a little person in her, a little person that would grow into a little girl for her to love and cherish and raise.

She had never learned to play the piano, but this little girl would. She would sit at the piano with long black hair, straight like her fathers instead of wavy like her own. This little girl would have her eyes, and a perfect smile. She would grow up in this house, and her parents would be with her for every step of the way.

Takashi had come up behind her and she had turned herself into his arms, declaring there and then that this was their home now. They signed the papers only an hour later in their realtors office, and she had been in her final month of pregnancy when they finally had moved in. There had been some water damage, and Takashi hadn’t wanted to risk mold around her and the baby. She had been a whale by the time they finally got into the house, waddling around unpacking cardboard boxes so very similar to the ones adorning the house now.

It had felt right then, like the real beginning to her life. Everything had made sense. Now the brightness of the house was overwhelming, the sun hitting her eyes and leaving black blurs in her vision. She kept most of the curtains shut, and there was no one there who would open them back up for her.

Still, the light kept creeping in.

Stop thinking about that. Get back to what you have to do.

I left some food in the fridge for you downstairs. It's STEAK... your favorite! Love you, XOXO.

She circled that final O and peeled the sticky note off of the pack, placing it on the wall by the doorway next to the rest of her little messages to her son. Sunny did better when he had reminders of things, and the bright neon of the stickies tended to catch his eye long enough to engage his curiosity. She patted the note twice to ensure it was stuck on firmly, and then she started her mental checklist again.

Pack up the last of our things. Check.

Call the landlord to start setting up the apartment. Check.

Make sure the moving men knew to leave the piano. Check.

Leave Sunny a list of chores. Check.

Make sure Sunny has what he needs and knows how to get it. Check.

Everything was laid out exactly as it should be. Everything was taken care of. So why did she have a foreboding feeling? Why did she not want to leave? She had wanted to leave this house for the last four years, she had craved escaping the grief and pain that tainted the walls. Now she was finally at the precipice of getting exactly what she wanted, and fear was holding her in place.

On a whim she called out that she was leaving to the empty dead house. Sunny did not wake. Sunny’s door did not open. She hadn’t expected it to, but she hoped it would. He might have come downstairs and give her a hug goodbye, he might have given her some sign that he was aware she even existed at all.

Except he wouldn’t, and it was better to pretend that it was just because of the house. Once she got him out of this house it would all be okay again, and to get him out of the house, she needed to leave and set up their new home.

With that thought at the forefront of her mind, she picked up her handbag and walked to the door. It was heavy when it opened, it had always been heavy, but now it was a struggle to even get the knob to turn. But turn it did, and soon she was standing in her yard, the front door closing behind her with an ominous click. That sound always sent a shiver racing down her spine. It was the same noise as when the men closed Mari’s casket. A simple quiet snick, efficient in its brutality.

That’s the sound that happened when they finally took my baby away. That’s the sound that happened when they shut the world forever on her beautiful face. She never shut any of the doors in the house anymore in an effort to avoid that sound.

She hurried to the car and slammed the door shut, the vibration of it rolling up her arm and cancelling out the noise of the casket door closing. A shaky breath flew out of her mouth and she gripped the steering wheel, letting her head fall against it.

It’s all fine. Everything is fine. You’re overreacting to a little noise. It’s just an overreaction.

She grabbed her purse and began to dig through it, the jingly sound of her keys coming from its depths. Once she found them she jammed the key into the ignition, about to turn it when it happened again. A crackly voice in her head, speaking in slow gravely Japanese. The voice of her Baasan stuck in her mind, stalling her hand from turning the key.

You shouldn’t leave him alone.

It was a ridiculous thought. She had left Sunny home alone plenty of times. It wasn’t anything new or out of the ordinary. Sunny probably wouldn’t even get up, except to use the bathroom and eat. She would be back in three days, and then they would be able to move on with their lives. There was nothing to worry about. She turned the key, and Baasan spoke up again.

Three days? You told yourself one, then two at most. Now Three? What on earth could you possibly need to do that would keep you away from your son for three days. He’s fragile now, you know.

Plenty of things Baa-Baa She rationalized. She had to lay out the furniture, call an inspector, get food for the fridge, and make sure everything would be just the way it should be for Sunny’s arrival. There was lots to do, and she needed all of that time. It wasn’t like she had left Sunny in a ditch without shelter or care. He was in his home, the only home he had ever known, with food to eat and a warm bed.

Ah yes, a single steak. Certainly enough for three days. He’s going to starve while you are gone. Why do you want to starve your son?

She wasn’t starving him. She...she wasn’t. Sunny barely ate anymore anyway. Uncertainty wound itself around her shoulders. She had left him a steak in the fridge, and the microwave was right by it to warm it up. She had even sharpened the knife for him.

Leaving your only son with a sharp knife alone in the house. What a choice .

She shook her head, unable to shake the thoughts from her head. Her hands tightened on the steering wheel, and she threw her body around, pulling out of the driveway and speeding down the road. Her Baasan’s voice screamed in her head

Turn Back. Turn Back, damn you. Go back, he needs you. You left out a knife, a knife you sharpened. You didn’t sharpen any of the others. Why did you leave that knife out? Do you want him to hurt himself?

“No!” She shouted into the empty air, startling herself. Her hands jerked, and the car jerked too, pulling into the other lane. An oncoming vehicle blared its horn, and she overcorrected, going half off the road. The man in the other car gave her the finger as he whizzed past, and she laughed, a strangely broken sound. Why would she want to hurt Sunny? He was her baby, her little one. The last little one she had, the only family she had. All she had now was her son, and she would never let anything hurt him.

“I’m doing this for him,” She said to herself, her voice placid and sweet, “It’s all for him. Once he’s out of that house things will be better. It’ll be all better,”

Why couldn’t she believe herself? She wasn’t lying, she wanted this for Sunny.

You want it for you. You want to be rid of that place, rid of the memories and everything you lost. Whatever it takes you’re leaving that all behind and it will be like none of it ever existed. That’s for you, not him.

But Sunny wasn’t one of the things she wanted to leave behind. Sunny was coming with her. But that didn’t explain why he wasn’t here sitting in the car with her. Baasan tried speaking up one last time.

Turn Back. You can take it back before he even wakes up. Throw that knife out into the backyard. Let it rest next to where your son hung his sister.

Where your baby hung herself. He needs you. He needs his mommy.

No. No, it was fine.

Sunny didn’t need her. What Sunny needed was a fresh start. Sunny needed to get out of that house, that horrible house filled with ghosts- alive and dead. Sunny needed her to be his mother, to make decisions when he couldn’t. Sunny needed his mother to help him, and she would. She would fill this new house with new furniture and new clothes, and she would become a new person. A kinder person, a better person, someone who could forgive his mistakes. Someone who could love him. Someone who could see him without hating him.

Sunny would be fine. Sunny would sleep all day and all night like he always did. He was a caterpillar in a cocoon, and she was going to help him finish his metamorphosis. Leaving this house, his chrysalis, would help him to transform. He would emerge as her beautiful boy again, her quiet darling, her Sunny. She put on her turn signal and started up the drive once more, this time with no hesitation at all.

All he had to do was survive a few more days in the fog. He could manage that. He’d lived this long in it, hadn’t he?

[iwa1zumis]

“i love you and i like you”: passion and burnout in Haikyuu!! 

tw: discussions of self harm, anxiety, burnout and breakdowns. 

spoilers for the whole manga!! 

okay this is probably gnna be jflkafjdklfj all over the place, but i’ve been thinking a lot lately about the difference between loving and liking something, and how haikyuu emphasises the importance of both those feelings being present when pursuing a passion. 

a quick look at google (and i KNOW my college professors are cringing away in horror victor frankenstein-style @ my use of google definitions but jflajfsdk bear with me!!) demonstrates how often the concepts of love and like are conflated, with love her being framed as a sort of deeper or more intense like: “to like or enjoy very much” to be specific. but personally i’ve always thought there’s something a bit misleading about that kind of definition, since its absolutely possible to love something or someone without necessarily liking them. to take a personal example: i love debate. i debated through middle and high school, made captain of the debate team, and was constantly travelling to and fro for different tournaments. even before i started to debate formally i’d jump at the chance to do mini-debates in class, argue with and rebut parents and friends over meals and causal conversation.... you get the idea. i loved debate, and still love it dearly, but i honestly don’t think i particularly liked it much. tournaments would always fill me with the most INSANE kind of stress, i’d barely eat or sleep in the days leading up to a meet, and i’ve had more muffled bathroom breakdowns in between rebuttals than i can count. after my final year of high school, i decided against joining the debate at university. i knew that if i were to retain ANY love for the activity going into the future, i had to force myself to take a break. 

so what does this solipsistic tangent have to do with haikyuu, you ask? well i have no doubt that a vast majority of the players in the series love volleyball. they’re dedicated and passionate about it. they hunger for the chance to be put on the court. but do they like to play? 

1. oikawa: “i forgot that volleyball can be fun” 

ofc i wouldn’t be an oikawa stan worth my salt if i didn’t start this off with the (grand) king himself!! imo one of the reasons why oikawa is such a popular and well-loved character is his constant determination to keep moving forward and playing, even in the face of seemingly insurmountable opponents and adversities (”never forget my worthless pride”, anyone?). inevitably, all the hard work and practise he put into his craft has left him with a very carefully constructed, put together playstyle-- he’s the kind of player who knows how to bring the best out of each and every teammate on the court because of the amount of time he spends observing them and playing with them. it’s an outlook and playstyle best encapsulated in his now iconic line during the second karasuno v seijoh match: 

“Talent is something you make bloom, instinct is something you polish!” 

in my opinion the word “polish” it super significant here-- it explicitly singles out the years and years of hard work that set a foundation for his talent and instinct to shine. 

but what happens when they don’t shine? there’s no denying that oikawa is an incredibly skilled and intuitive player (something that hinata’s acknowledgment of him as the “great king” to kageyama’s “king” immediately sets out) but oikawa himself is acutely aware of the fact that he can never quite measure up to his long-time rival ushijima or his immensely talented protege kageyama. oikawa’s self described strategy to deal with opponents is to: 

“Hit it until it breaks” 

but what happens when hitting something again and again with your carefully honed, “polished” skills yields no results? imo there’s a very clear binary mentality drawn here-- either you hit it and it breaks, asserting your superiority; or you hit it and it doesn’t break, enforcing your inferiority. with each perceived loss against ushijima and kageyama, oikawa’s internalized logic holds his own weakness up to his own face, shaking his faith in himself as a player. if you’ll pardon the on-the-nose-metaphor: the whole “hitting it till it breaks” strategy is a two-way street, and oikawa has been hitting himself, metaphorically speaking, for a very long time. i have no doubt that he loved volleyball, passionately, through middle and high school. but with his inferiority complex growing in the face of constantly refuted results, i think he slowly began to like it less and less. 

so how does oikawa get his groove back? to answer that, we’ll have to turn to the post-timeskip chapters, particularly the two chapters that deal with oikawa and hinata’s unexpected meeting in Rio (372 and 373 for anyone curious!). while reminiscing with hinata over dinner, oikawa finally reveals the event that made him want to play volleyball (as a setter, to be exact)-- as a child, he watched veteran setter jose blanco step into a game and

“... inconspicuously help[ed] the ace get his bearings again... and then simply left the court.” 

oikawa’s reaction to blanco’s playstyle might just be one of my favourite panels in the chapter for how it conveys so much with such little space: 

the stammer of “i-i--”, which suggests a sense of resolve and determination forming in real time, finally coalesces into the determined declaration of “i wanna be a setter too!” what i took from this is that oikawa’s admiration for-- and liking of-- blanco expresses itself in the agency with which he makes his choice, in this case, actively deciding to be a setter so that he can support players on the court like blanco did. the liking that oikawa has here is therefore inherently linked to the agency and freedom he feels here-- freedom to choose his position, and how he wants his volleyball career to develop. 

this recollection of his childhood memories, and the subsequent game of beach volleyball that oikawa and hinata play afterwards, essentially push oikawa back into the mental and physical space of a child or beginner, as the manga demonstrates with panels of oikawa being forced to ditch his usual carefully developed, polished playstyle to learn the ropes of beach volleyball: 

ultimately concluding with the beautiful panel transition of oikawa, as a child AND adult, celebrating after a successful play: 

“It reminds me that-- I forgot that-- volleyball is fun.”

in a different country, playing a familiar game by slightly different rules and led back into the mentality and freedom of a novice after years of careful development, oikawa rediscovers his liking for the game. 

2. kageyama: “when you get strong, someone stronger will rise to meet you” 

moving on to the king of the court himself!! i’d argue that kageyama’s childhood memories and experiences of volleyball function almost oppositely to oikawa’s-- while oikawa has to re-access the sensation of being a beginner again to like the game along with loving it, kageyama’s process of coming to like and love volleyball come from moving away from his early experiences and into a new phase of playing-- specifically, his partnership with hinata. 

one of kageyama’s defining features is his individualism-- he’s both skilled and solitary enough to prefer to, as he puts it, “play every single position on the court”. notably, he wants to become a setter because: 

“[it’s] the one that touches the ball the most.”

in fact, i’d argue that kageyama’s “king of the court” attitude that he was known for in middle school is an extension of this individualistic mindset: he holds himself to extremely high standards, and expects his team-mates (as extensions of himself) to meet those very same standards. the similarities between his internal monologue and his commands to kindaichi in these two panels, for example, are strikingly, visibly similar: 

there’s that near-identical intonation of “move faster, jump higher!” that implies that the way he treats his teammates is just an extension of how he treats himself-- a deeply self-critical, miserable way, as it turns out. it’s telling that for the first few chapters of a manga in which characters’ eyes literally light up when they’re happy, passionate or excited, kageyama’s eyes are drawn as pitch black, even while he’s playing. 

imo the reason why hinata’s appearance, and their later partnership, is so significant for kageyama’s personal development is because he can’t treat hinata like an extension of himself. hinata challenges him and his preconcieved notions of the sport at every turn: first with his lightning-fast reflexes and raw intuition, and then with his determination to hit kageyama’s toss no matter what. in fact, the first time that kageyama’s eyes light up in the manga is, you guessed it, when he and hinata first pull off a successful “freak quick”: 

during the post-timeskip chapters we’re introduced to kageyama’s backstory in much greater detail: the way in which his grandfather fostered his passion for volleyball and the timing with which his grandfather’s illness and later death left kageyama increasingly alienated, thus further enforcing his individualist mentality. but what the chapter also gave us was an explicit confirmation of a theme that had been built up from the very beginning of the story, when kageyama’s grandfather tells him: 

“when you get really strong, i promise someone stronger will rise to meet you”

i’ve seen translations of the line that use both “meet” and “challenge”, and personally i’d have to say that i prefer “challenge” for what it implies-- even before hinata got strong enough to actually meet kageyama halfway he challenged him to move away from his pre-established mindset of doing everything himself, and into one where he actually comes to enjoy-- and like-- volleyball. 

3. hirugami: “maybe you’ve just had your fill”

hirugami’s case is kind of a strange one-- unlike oikawa and kageyama he’s not a major character, and his relationship with volleyball only gets a single backstory chapter as opposed to a series-long arc. but i personally ADORE his mini-arc for the things it has to say about burnout, passion and moving on. 

hirugami is introduced as the youngest member of a volleyball family-- his parents, older brother and older sister all play the sport. when explaining how he began to play himself, hirugami says: 

“... naturally, i started to play too. because i was good at it, and it was fun.” 

imo there are a lot of really interesting things to pick apart with this phrasing: the “naturally” implies a foregone conclusion but also a degree of passivity, like he himself recognises that he was swept up in his family’s influence. the “it was fun” coming AFTER “because i was good for it” also implies a degree of correlation, as though if he didn’t have the aptitude, he wouldn’t enjoy the game (a mindset markedly different to both oikawa and kageyama). as hirugami gets older, this correlation of being good ----> having fun ----> being able to play begins to reverse, and therefore manifest in increasingly self destructive ways: 

the main impetus for hirugami has now become not wanting to lose, which therefore requires a degree of heightened practise and self discipline in order to achieve. notably, having fun has been reduced to an afterthought, a state that might be achieved if he wins. 

the correlation of “winning” and “being good” is a slipperly slope to go down, though, something that becomes especially apparent after hirugami’s team lose a game. the frustration of being unable to reach his goal of winning manifests itself as not being “good enough”-- acting on this, hirugami seeks to punish himself for “messing up”: 

the close up panel of hirugami’s “confession” after hoshiumi confronts him hits particularly hard because it taps into a feeling that i’m sure almost all of us have felt at one point or another-- the realisation that something you once both loved AND liked is now only bringing you misery: 

ironically, it’s actually this acknowledgement of “not really liking volleyball that much” that acts as a catalyst for hirugami’s recovery from burnout. hoshiumi’s acknowledgement of, and reply to, hirugami’s state is seemingly simple but deeply freeing: 

and honestly, why not just quit? there’s nothing tethering hirugami to volleyball, certainly nothing as serious as life or death. personally my favourite part of this panel is hoshiumi’s description of volleyball as food from which hoshiumi has “eaten his fill”-- a lovely metaphor that re-contextualizes what could be seen as “time wasted” into something productive and indeed nourishing. 

when we check up on hirugami post time-skip, we find out that he has indeed quit playing volleyball in favour of going to veterinary school, but he’s seen watching the game between the jackals and adlers on his phone with an eager, fond smile on his face, implying that it was the act of moving away from the table (so to speak) after eating his fill that let him still hold on to a love and passion for the game, even though he is now interacting with it as a spectator instead of a player. and indeed that might just be why i love hirugami’s arc so much-- with it, haikyuu tells us that sometimes passion’s don’t need to be re-ignited in the same way. while oikawa and kageyama rediscover their love for, and liking of, the game through a return to childhood and the arrival of a new partner respectively, hirugami’s journey away from burnout comes from recognizing that he can step away from the volleyball court, and that the love and like will still remain. 

[all-things-are-nothing-to-me]

Burn The Bread Book: Industrial Communism Will Not Liberate You

The True Cost of Bread

For years I've watched a man drive his pick-up truck into the forest around me and cut down all the trees that aren't legally protected. So, every tree that isn't a pine or an oak. The moment a carob or olive or hawthorn or mastic or strawberry tree grows big enough to burn, he cuts it down and drags it away for firewood. He even fells trees I planted, while smiling and waving at me like he’s doing me a favor. I glare at him silently but don’t say a word, knowing he has the full power of the state behind him.

He uses the wood to fuel his traditional bakery which has several large outdoor ovens. The much-loved industrial product he produces is bread; a product that has rapidly replaced all the native food-bearing plants of the area as they’ve been cut down to make room for wheat fields.

The villagers are proud of the bakery because it attracts visitors from all over the island and thus creates further opportunities for them to earn profit. The local bureaucracy; the democratically-elected village council, gives the baker free reign to do as he pleases since so many livelihoods depend on his bakery.

Because the baker cuts everything down as soon as it reaches human height, the trees never get big enough to fruit, so they don't spread their seeds and grow new trees. The forest slowly dwindles to nothing but pine trees and can no longer sustain most animal life. The climate dries, the soil erodes, the air grows stagnant and depleted of oxygen. All that’s left in the few remaining forests that haven’t been bulldozed to grow more wheat is a sterile pine desert.

The baker will soon no doubt lobby the village council to allow him to harvest the pine trees too, otherwise the all-important bakery will cease to be operational when he runs out of legal trees to fell.

In just a few years, all the fruits, nuts and berries that sustained the people in the area for millennia are wiped out and replaced with a consumer product that is made from a single grain crop. A thriving ecosystem has been replaced with a wheat monoculture that could collapse at any moment and take the lives of everyone it feeds with it.

It’s worth noting that the baker, like most people in my village, and in fact most people on the island, considers himself a communist. The village has a “communist party” clubhouse and they always elect “communist” local leaders and vote for “communist” politicians in the national elections.

Any anarchist worth their salt has no tolerance for these faux-communists, or “tankies” and their brand of collectivist-capitalism because they cling to money, states and rulers and really only embrace Stalinist politics because of the promise of cushy government jobs for them or their relatives.

The Stalinist politicians openly buy votes by promising jobs in the public service to their supporters. A job in the public service here is a guaranteed free ride for life for you and your family, with the salaries multiple times higher than private sector salaries and benefits out of the wazoo - including multiple pensions. They get a full pension for each gov sector they worked in, and the more connected civil servants are rotated through jobs in multiple sectors in the last few months leading up to their retirement to ensure the maximum pay-out possible.

I’m confident anyone reading this knows Stalinism is designed to enrich the bureaucrat class and give them complete control over the state’s citizens. No anarchist sees that shit as communism. But in a “real” communist society; an “anarcho-communist” society where money, state and class have been abolished, the local baker would presumably still bake that bread, and since it would be offered freely to everyone far and wide, he'd need to bake a lot more of it and thus need more wood. More forest would be razed to keep the bread production going. Everyone living in the village and anyone passing through, and people in faraway cities will expect to have as much gourmet bread on their plates as they desire. More bakeries would need to pop up on the mountain as demand rises for delicious bread in the cities below, with the rural population working hard and doing their duty to feed the hungry urban population.

Over the years, I’ve put a lot of thought into envisioning how the workers seizing the means of production would end the environmental devastation this bread production brings to the mountain. I struggle to see any scenario where communism would stop the devastation being wrought on the ecosystem. The forests would continue to be razed to ensure production won’t slow down.

Free bread for everyone today means no bread (or any food) for anyone tomorrow as the top-soil washes away, the climate warms, the wildlife goes extinct, and the whole mountain rapidly turns to desert. It’s inevitable that soon even wheat will cease to grow in the fields surrounding the village.

Regardless of the economic system in place, the villagers being able to consume as many fresh loaves of baked bread as they can carry means all the forests in driving distance of the village are eviscerated, eventually all the fields become barren, the crops fail, and everyone starves. This is already well on its way to happening, and switching to a communist mode of production would do nothing to allay this inevitability.

“How would you feed people then, genius?” I hear you scoff. The answer is simple; tried and tested for millennia. I wouldn’t feed people. People would feed themselves instead of expecting others to labor to feed them; an entitlement that arose with industrial civilization. People would be inclined to protect the forests instead of bulldozing them for the supposed convenience of industrial food production if they picked their food directly from those forests everyday.

They’d protect the forests with their very lives because they’d need the food that grows in the forests to survive without industrial farms, bakeries and factories outsourcing food production and then hiding the ecocide they cause just out of sight of the villages and their carefully manicured streets.

Bread and other industrial products alienate us from our ecosystem and cause us to stop caring about how our food is produced, so long as it’s there in the store when we want to eat it. Putting food production back into the control of the individual is the only way to preserve the ecosystem. Direct food is the only anarchist mode of production. When other people are tasked with growing your food, they will take shortcuts because the food isn’t going into their own mouths or the mouths of their loved ones. Food harvesting needs to go back to being a way of life for every able-bodied person, rather than something industrial farm workers are tasked with to serve an elite class of privileged office workers who are completely disconnected from the food chain.

All over the world, complex centuries-old polyculture food-forests that sustained countless lives for generations are destroyed by the arrogance of industrial production, replaced for a short while by a wheat or corn monoculture so people can pick up their bread down the street from their home or workplace instead of muddying their feet to gather food from the wild as their ancestors did. This convenience seems like “progress” to civilized people, at least until the destructive industrial agriculture process renders the wheat fields infertile and farms all over the world are turned into a vast uninhabitable dust bowl. A sustainable way of life that kept us alive and thriving for centuries has been tossed aside in favor of a short-lived attempt at industrial convenience that has already proven itself a horrible failure; bringing us and every other lifeform to the verge of extinction.

Industry is not sustainable. Industrial systems are all destructive. Communism, capitalism, fascism, they’re all founded on ecocide. The authority of the baker is upheld over everything else because domesticated people would rather consume “free” industrial bread for a few years than unlearn their destructive consumerist habits. If we are to survive these times of devastating ecological collapse, humans need to go back to fostering vast food forests as our ancestors did for millennia; producing and gathering our own food without destroying the very ecosystem that gives us life in the name of luxury and convenience.

"The People's" Authority: How “Anarcho-Communism” is Authority-Forming

If someone kept cutting down all the trees to bake bread, the people who depend on the forest to survive would of course have to intervene to stop the loggers from destroying the forest and thus killing their way of life.

This happens in rainforests today where indigenous people who have been let down by the state gleefully issuing licenses to corporate loggers, and turning a blind eye to illegal logging, instead take matters into their own hands and shut down the loggers using force.

They put their lives on the line to do this, and a lot of them are killed by the loggers who value their profits over the lives of indigenous people. They know if they don’t act to stop the loggers, the forests they call their home will be decimated and their way of life will have been destroyed forever. They’ll be forced into the cramped cities and have to labor all day everyday to buy the bread and beef that stripped their forests bare.

So how would an anarcho-communist society deal with someone who cuts down all the trees to bake bread? In an anarcho-communist society, everyone will be environmentally conscious and consume sustainably, right...? No. Not if you’re engaging in any kind of critical thinking.

Loggers can only destroy forests at the current explosive rate if the society imbues them with authority. If they have no authority, there's nothing stopping others from using force to end their pillaging of our natural resources. Without the authority of civilization behind them, the loggers have incredibly diminished power and no real motive to risk their lives to fell trees.

Anarcho-communism is an industrial ideology based around the notion of seizing the means of production and then running the factories, saw mills, oil rigs, mines and power plants democratically. Industrial civilization is an incredibly totalitarian authority that is nevertheless upheld by “anarcho”-communist theory, even though anarchists supposedly oppose all forms of authority.

In an industrial communist society, much like in a capitalist society, logging is necessary to further the industrial production the society is built around. As long as production drives the system, trees will have to be felled for all kinds of reasons: from lumber and paper production to making way for crops and cattle.

So, logging is highly valued by the people that uphold the industrial society, and in a real world scenario, these “anarcho” communists would have to take measures to protect loggers from repercussions from a small, uncivilized minority – the indigenous inhabitants of the forest. These measures are, by any definition, an authority. A monopoly on violence. A state in everything but name.

But since the loggers are providing this valued service to good, decent, reasoned, educated, domesticated, egalitarian, democratic, civilized anarcho-communists in big shiny cities who are accustomed to a litany of luxury consumer products being delivered to their doors everyday… Decidedly authoritarian methods will need to be taken to ensure the anarcho-loggers can do their anarcho-work without facing retaliation from the “primmie” forest dwellers. These methods can easily be justified in the ancom’s mind; there’s nothing an ancom loves more than to “justify” authority with their mighty reasoned logic™️.

So when faced with the conundrum that the anarcho-communist city needs lumber, paper, corn and meat, and the only thing standing in the way of production is a few indigenous tribes, the ancom will put their anarcho-Spock ears on and declare: “the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few”. Just as capitalist and socialist states today violently suppress the indigenous people who take action to shut down logging and mining operations that quash their way of life, the anarcho-industrialist will send a red-and-black army in to escort their red-and-black bulldozers and discipline anyone that interferes with the will of “the people”.

The indigenous inhabitants of course won’t give a shit that their forests are being felled by communists rather than by capitalists. They won’t give a shit that the bulldozers are now owned collectively or that the land they’ve lived on for millennia has now been designated as belonging to “the people” (the civilized voting majority) instead of to the state or to capital.

The forest that nurtures the indigenous people and their children is still being decimated to maintain the destructive lifestyles of apathetic city-dwellers. Their lives are still being ended because to civilized people, they’re a backwards, regressive minority standing in the way of progress... Damaging the revolution, inhibiting the growth of their glorious egalitarian civilization. The educated, “progressive” majority outvote them. Anyway, everyone who has spoken to a red anarchist knows primmies are dirty reactionary ableists who want to stop us from building wheelchair and drug factories, right?

Civilized people always have pushed the notion that the “common good” or the good of the many will always outweigh the needs of individuals or small groups of people, ever since Aristotle, in his "The Aim of Man” wrote:

"The good of the state is of greater and more fundamental importance both to attain and to preserve. The securing of one individual's good is cause for rejoicing, but to secure the good of a nation or of a city-state is nobler and more divine." Communism is even more adamant in this “the will of the majority is paramount” shtick, going as far as to declare the industrial-worker class as the only voice that matters, with everyone needing to become part of the worker class in order to abolish class differences.

This logic is why the USSR, China and other communist experiments forced collectivization on self-sufficient indigenous peoples and then slaughtered them when they inevitably resisted. If people won’t consent to being displaced from their ancestral lands to work on the industrial farms and factories that fuel the destruction of their homes, they’re branded “kulaks” and “counter-revolutionaries” and “reactionaries” and are systemically genocided, usually by destroying their food sources.

Industrial goods are valued by industrial society over the forest and its inhabitants because domesticated people want to eat bread and microwaved pizza and the real cost of those products (environmental destruction) is of no real concern to industrial society beyond empty gestures like an occasional “save the rainforests” or “go vegan” banner.

The inhabitants of the forests and their strange foreign culture are too far removed from the busy cities for the average urbanites to involve themselves in their plight. Even the civilized rural people who live around the forests are forever striving to urbanize their villages in the unending quest for upwards mobility. In my experience, they’ll happily trade every tree in sight for a gourmet bakery, Apple Store or coffee-shop so they can feel as civilized as the people in the big cities who tend to look down on them for being “hillbillies” or “country bumpkins”.

“The people in the big cities of Sao Paulo and Rio, they want us to live on picking Brazil nuts,” a farmer says. “That doesn’t put anyone’s kid in college.” (From RollingStone.com.)

The settler-farmers who are burning what’s left of the Amazon rainforest to the ground say they’re doing it for their children... To make the cash to pay for their children to be educated and get good jobs in the city. It shouldn’t be controversial for me to say civilized people value their civilized life and will always put their civilized needs before the needs of uncivilized others.

Civilized people can relate to their civilized neighbours who have the same struggles as them: paying their bills, educating their kids, buying good insurance, washing their car, deciding where to go on vacation, renovating their kitchens, choosing the next Netflix show to binge watch... So it’s not surprising that they’ll do everything they can to prop up civilized people and kick down the uncivilized people who stand in the way of their quest for ever-increasing industrial comforts.

I can already see the denial stage setting in on some of your faces as I type: “But us anarcho-communists aren’t like capitalists, we’re good caring people. Humane people. We’ll make industry green, we’ll manage the forests in a sustainable manner using direct democracy, unions, unicorns and equality!”

Why would anyone swallow that crock of shit? Why would thoroughly domesticated people used to all the comforts of destructive industrial civilization suddenly decide to forgo those comforts because of democracy? Why would 7.7 billion people suddenly change how they live because anarcho-communism has been declared? How would ancom civilization make industry “green” when it’s clearly demonstrable that all industry is destructive to the environment and to wild people, and modelling a society on an industrial system has had disastrous results throughout history, regardless of what the attached ideology was named?

All controlled mass-society, including every historical experiment at building a communist society has created authority; bodies of people that hold power over others. That power grows over time and takes the “communist” society further and further away from its revolutionary origins. Every indication is that authority would continue to be manifested with industrial anarcho-communism. There is no evidence that anarcho-communism would avert authority when it’s so dependent on destructive, exploitative, alienating, domesticating industry and the control and domination of a global population of workers.

All Industrial Goods Free for All People: A Recipe for Disaster

In communism everything is free for the taking and resources are often treated as if they're infinite. If you decide you need something, you take it from the communal store. Kropotkin said no one has the right to judge how much an individual needs, except the individuals themselves.

Since most reds hold that resources should be allocated according to “need”, decisions would need to be made to determine who in the community has “need” of the biggest shares of resources.

I know most ancoms, like Kropotkin, claim every individual will just take whatever they “need” (want) from communal stores, but I'm going to cry foul on that because it's really not practical in an industrial society. Resources aren't infinite and no one is going to spend their life doing gruelling manual labor and then just give everything they produce away to some random stranger who shows up at the communal store with a dumpster truck and says "I need your community's entire monthly output of goods today, so load it up". For some reason ancoms think assholes would cease to exist in a communist society. Why would anyone work their asses off, wasting their life away doing menial manual labor just to watch some shitlord drive away with everything they produced because he announced he “needed” it?

“But as woke anarcho-communists in an advanced fully-automated luxury communist society, labor will in fact be quite limited and fun because we can divide duties between all our comrades! And profit will no longer be a concern since everything we make will be given to anyone that wants it free of charge, so we don’t need to worry about marketing our products and that will further minimize the amount of labor we’ll do, giving us ample leisure time to enjoy the fruits of our production!”

For the purposes of cold-hearted mockery, I’m slightly paraphrasing an ancom who responded to an early draft of this piece. What fantasy realm are ancoms living in where all the massive problems posed by industrial production (including the ongoing extinction of near-every lifeform on Earth) will evaporate when you remove profit and marketing from the equation?

I keep saying this in my writing but here I go again: In an industrial society that aims to give everyone in the world equal access to consumer goods, industry does not decrease; it increases. If everyone in the world suddenly has free and equal access to the mountains of wasteful shit that Western consumers consider necessary to life, not only would production need to massively increase, but we would run out of resources to exploit much more rapidly.

That’s assuming anyone would even want to work in the mines and factories in a supposedly equal society if they no longer had guns to their heads. Why would anyone go back down into that mine once their chains are broken? Does anyone honestly think those Congolese kids give a shit if you have a new phone every year? Should they really be expected to sacrifice themselves for your entitlement? So you can continue to live in luxury with all your little conveniences?

In a real world implementation of industrial communism, communities will no doubt quickly impose limits on what can be taken from communal stores after a few people take way more than they have any right to and other people go without as a result, despite them laboring for hours a day to produce those goods. Kropotkin might insist we’ll all be happy toiling away all day to make this consumerist shit just to give it away to random strangers, but he was a privileged scholar who never had to work a day in his life, so what do you expect?

Industrial society right now is fed by the ceaseless labor of billions of exploited people in the Global South. People are forced to toil in mines from childhood to procure the materials that other people (also including children) then assemble into consumer goods in factories, all for starvation wages. This is debilitating, dangerous work that leaves the people who do it sucked of their youth after a few years.

Anyway, let’s play along with communist mythology for a bit to get to my next point. In an ideal communist society (where I guess minerals are somehow found equally all across the planet and not overwhelmingly located in the Global South as in the real world), outsourced labor would presumably go away because communists would never exploit workers in distant lands (who ever heard of an imperialist communist, right? Right??) So instead production would need to be localized, and then the goods would be distributed according to need.

For resources to be allocated according to need, you'll have some kind of deciding body in place to judge what each person's needs are; what resources each person should be given.

There are lots of factors to take into consideration when deciding someone’s “needs”, like how far they live from work, how far they live from the store, how many calories they burn doing the labor they do, the size of their family, their dietary restrictions, disabilities they might have, their particular metabolism, how many parties they throw, how many friends they have and thus might invite to the parties, their religious and cultural practices, the size of their house, the size of their garden, the type of insulation their house has and how quickly it loses heat, the fuel efficiency of their car... I could list hundreds more things but I’ll stop myself.

Giving bureaucrats this power will no doubt mean certain favored groups / individuals will be rewarded and less desirable groups / individuals will be neglected, or even punished. This is the nature of authority. You’ll need a body of full-time bureaucrats to collect all this data and measure how it should determine your share of the pie, and those bureaucrats are going to have biases. If a computer does it, the programmer will have biases. And you'd still need bureaucrats to collect the data and feed it to the computer. Then they could easily feed incorrect or selective data to the computer because of their biases.

It's always felt like a recipe for corruption and exploitation to me for a bureaucracy to determine someone’s worth... Which is probably why Kropotkin stipulated that everyone should be able to just take whatever they themselves decide they need from the stores.

Of course, the real solution would be to not base your proposed utopian society on industrial production in the first place... Promising industrial production will be unlimited because everyone will voluntarily agree to work real hard in the factories and mines and slaughterhouses and the goods will be distributed to everyone everywhere somehow while maintaining a sustainable ecological green solarpunk paradise just makes you a smug fucking liar. No different than a grinning politician promising to give us freedom, liberty and prosperity if we vote for him.

The only red anarchist tendency that made a modicum of practical sense in my mind was anarcho-collectivism, because at least the workers would receive the direct value of their labor hours instead of having external bodies decide how much value / worth to assign to them as a person.

If you're going to spend your life toiling in a factory or farm to produce goods for other people, would you really want a bureaucrat or a committee or even a direct voter body deciding how much you deserve for that labor, while giving someone who does the same job (or a much easier job) more than you because of potentially biased reasons?

Regardless, anarcho-collectivism still only really values the workers who are most willing to submit to the factory grind and put in the most hours. Anarcho-collectivism still holds ecodical industry and luxuries for cityfolk up above all life on the planet... So that 19th century ideology isn’t going to save you either. Throw it right in the trash with the bread book because this “reform-industrial-society” charade isn’t helping when the planet is on fire.

If industrial communism were actually implemented in the real world, you can be relatively certain that some kind of authority would need to be put in place to prevent bad actors from showing up at the store and taking a community’s entire monthly production. People would need to police the store and judge whether someone is worthy of taking as much as they’re taking. They’d need to become authorities, upholders of law and order. Purveyors of “justice”.

Let’s be clear now because I know a lot of red anarchists are going to try to “justify” this authority as being “necessary for the good of society” as they will do. Policing who can take food and how much they can take is a clear authority. Not a “justified” authority, because such a thing simply does not exist.

And this store-policing is not the anarchist tactic of “direct action” either, let’s make that clear right now, because it’s a frightenly common misunderstanding with red anarchists. Creating a police force has nothing to do with direct action.

Direct action is an isolated use of force unconnected to institutional systems of power. People who engage in direct action are not appealing to a higher authority for legitimacy. Their action is not legitimized by anyone and they receive no protection or reward from an authority as they take the action. There’s no monopoly on violence being granted to them by an authority, so there’s nothing to guarantee their safety from retaliation if the action fails or succeeds.

There’s no institutional power-imbalance being created when someone takes direct action against an authority. The authority already created the power imbalance, and your direct action is a form of defense to shield you, your ecosystem or your community from that imbalance.

Direct action is an entirely anarchist tactic, but pinning badges on people, officiating them, and giving them the authority (and the monopoly on violence) to police a store and withhold food and products from certain people for whatever reason has nothing to do with anarchy. Building a hierarchy like this has nothing to do with anarchy.

Police officers and judges (authorities) ruling over a communal store is authoritarian. An officiated police force is a completely different thing from the isolated use of force by a lone actor or a small group of actors to preserve life and combat authority (direct action).

Creating a police force, even if it’s formed of volunteers, even if they were elected, even if they make decisions collectively, even if their uniforms are red and black, even if the officers placed on duty are regularly rotated, is authoritarian by any definition. There are no anarchist cops. An “anarchist cop” couldn’t be a bigger oxymoron.

Here’s an example of direct action: me punching a logger who is cutting down my favorite tree. This action is completely removed from structural systems of authority because I have no authority or structural power behind me. There’s nothing legitimizing my use of force or giving me a monopoly on violence. My use of force doesn’t extend beyond my own two fists. Since assault is illegal, and his logging is legal, the logger has the full authority of the law behind him, so any action I take to oppose that authority is punching up. It’s fighting to curve a gross power imbalance. It’s anarchy.

In this civilized world, I could be severely punished by law enforcement for using force to stop his desecration of a forest. As the state gave him his logging permit, he has authority over the forest and every life that depends on the forest to survive. He punches down every time he fells a tree. He is the full embodiment of archy. If I choose to stand in his way, there’s no state behind me, no court, no police force. Me physically stopping a logger from felling trees is an isolated use of force to strike back at a system of authority. The logger destroys life for profit, and if I take action to stop him because I don’t want to see the forest become a barren desert, I don’t become a state or any kind of authority based on that decision to fight back.

Forming a police squad and a bureaucracy to patrol and govern an officiated communal store, appointing authorities to sit and judge how much each individual deserves to eat, on the other hand, creates legitimized systems of power and an institutional monopoly on violence. It creates a state, or at the very least a proto-state that will later develop into a full-blown state as the bureaucracy grows.

The German philosopher Max Weber defined the state as a monopoly on the legitimate use of physical force. State violence, whether it’s committed on behalf of the state by a politician, a judge, a cop or a logger, is always a legitimate force. Any violence the state does is immediately “justified” simply by virtue of it being dispensed by a legitimate state actor who is doing it for the good of the state and its authority.

A logger with an official permit to slice up a forest is thus fully justified in the eyes of society to do as much harm to the forest as is deemed necessary by the authorities who granted the permit.

A state exists wherever an authority can authorize and legitimize violence. There is no way for an anarchist to “justify” a coercive, authoritarian institution such as a police force that will no doubt be biased against minority groups and lead to the accumulation of power by the dominant group, and abuses of power by the people doing the policing. Even if minority groups are involved in the police force, the majority group will still oppress their groups.

A society that mass-produces goods and distributes them in communal stores will manifest itself as a state, regardless of Kropotkin’s insistences that everyone will work voluntarily and then take whatever they want from the stores. There’s no practical scenario where industrial labor is truly voluntary. There’s no practical scenario on this Earth of rapidly diminishing returns where “free” stores won’t need to be policed to deny unlimited goods to individuals and groups who the governing body decides are less worthy of the fruits of their labor.

Anarcho-communism simply isn’t revolutionary as long as we are depleting all our resources in the name of industrial civilization; something anarcho-communism demands as an industrial, work-based ideology that revolves around civilizing the land and its inhabitants in order to extract resources and labor. There’s nothing revolutionary about continuing the global ecocide under the guise of democracy. Every anarchist should understand the difference between isolated force and authority, but very few self-identifying social anarchists seem interested in this and are content prating on about “justified authority”, debating “how an anarcho-communist police force could work” and excitedly discussing Chomsky’s latest speech telling them to vote for a lesser-evil neoliberal politician.

I know I sound bitter, but I’ve been disillusioned with the majority of red anarchists I come into contact with for years now and they only seem to get worse as industrial society plods on and the sands and seas climb further up our necks.

Anarcho-communism is not the solution to fighting authority, it’s simply a skin-deep re-brand of authority. A sparkly new paint job. There’s a reason so many ancoms strive to “justify” authority. They don’t actually care about reaching for anarchy.

Is Communism Always Authority-Forming?

In my mind, communism can only work outside of industrial mass society. A small community gathering or growing supplies and freely sharing them with the rest of the community. Each community trading with other small communities. Marx and Engels ironically dubbed this hunter-gatherer form of society that had long existed in human history as “primitive communism” and suggested it was inferior to their advanced industrial communism that valued the factory and centralized city life above all else.

Mass industry requires mass agriculture, mass labor, mass transport, mass resource extraction, mass construction, mass policing, mass military... Mass society and will only lead right back to capitalism and statism because it's so unwieldy and authority forming. Any communist tendency built around industrial exploitation is going to create all kinds of fucked up hierarchies and just lead us right back to the apocalyptic status quo.

Most communists I’ve talked to about this are unable to accept that some people will still act like assholes if capitalism collapses, which I’d probably find endearing if these people weren’t such giant assholes themselves; calling me a privileged reactionary for daring to suggest their blessed ideology might have some flawed logic. They insist everyone will cease being selfish assholes once capitalism is done away with because “assholes are only assholes as long as capitalism pits them against each other.”

Even if we wake up one morning and marketing, consumer culture and wealth are all done away with, we still have generations of indoctrination in authoritarian behavior to contend with. That doesn't go away overnight. But even without consumer culture to guide them, people are still completely capable of being assholes. Going back to before mass-society even existed, people would murder each other and take their stuff. They'd raid each other's settlements, they'd steal their children, they'd fight over territory and cultural differences. These aren't things that were invented by capitalism and they won’t go away just because communism is declared.

People aren't inherently just or unjust. Humanity is not good or bad. Every person is an individual, each with different experiences, motivations, traumas. Communism expects everyone to be altruistic. Capitalism expects everyone to act out of greed and self preservation. Neither is true because both are ideologically driven worldviews that attempt to define human nature in order to instruct us how to behave by instilling us with their morals. People are greedy, people are generous, people are kind, people are mean-spirited. Every person in the world is all of these things and more. People are not defined by one single personality trait their entire lives.

I’m haunted by every shitty thing I’ve ever done and I’m sure I’ll do more shitty things yet, despite my best intentions. No one is above making mistakes. Mutual aid is a great thing, but it needs to be earned. There are people in our lives that we trust and people we can’t stand to be around. Not everyone is deserving of the products of our labor. Some people in the world will always try to exploit you, even if they already have everything their hearts could possibly desire. Some people will be kind to you no matter how big an asshole you are.

I’ve been accused by communists of being cynical, of being “regressive” and “counter-revolutionary” because I don’t buy into the communist notion that humans are inherently good and they just need the right industrial system to bring that good out of them.

Any society where I’m expected to just sit back and watch as a logger destroys my ecosystem because he’s serving the “greater good” isn’t a society I want any part of. I value my autonomy over the desires of traumatized workers pushing buttons for 8 hours a day in a city far-removed from me. I’d rather take the logger’s chainsaw away than fiddle my thumbs as he takes everything I know, and to hell with whatever bureaucratic process enshrined him with the right to decimate the forest to give bread to the workers. Fuck the workers and their bread and their fully-automated luxury communism and their divine democratic rights.

There’s simply no reason to believe exploitative assholes will go away if communism is ever enacted.

There’s a man I know who constantly exploits me for my labor, and I always go along with it. He dangles a carrot on a stick in front of me every time; promising that after I help him, he’ll hook me up to his well so I can have free water for my trees. For years he’s made this promise.

I’ve spent countless hours doing dangerous work for this guy with no reward. He always disappears after I do the work without giving me what he promised. Then the next week he wakes me up again at 6am on a Saturday by honking his horn, apologizes for not getting around to hooking me up to the well yet, saying he was too busy or in the hospital or had a family emergency, promises he’ll do it this week, and then I’m hanging off a cliff or a roof repairing pipes for him all day while he barks orders at me.

I do it because I’m a fucking pushover who can’t say no to people due to my ridiculous kind nature. But whenever I ask him for anything, I’m met with a blank stare, an abrupt subject change or a sorry excuse. I was stranded a two hour walk down the mountain last week when my car broke down, and he drove right around me and didn’t even slow down. When I saw him later, he swore on his life that he didn’t see me because the sun was in his eyes. I nodded and shrugged.

Communism wouldn’t stop this lying dipshit from exploiting me; he’d still need someone to fix his leaky pipes, start up his diesel generator, saw off the upper branches of his olive trees and climb shoddy makeshift structures for him regardless of the economic system in place. He’d still give me a sob story about his painful ulcer and I’d still do the hard work to spare him the pain of doing it himself. He wouldn’t stop being an exploitative asshole just because democracy is installed in the workplace. He wouldn’t start practising mutual aid when he goes to great lengths to avoid all work and shames other people into doing it for him.

Red anarchists throw every insult in the book at me when I voice my doubts about their wistful ideologies; condemning me for being critical of the amazing breadman Kropotkin or their “green industry” tsar Professor Bookchin... It’s hard to give my perspective as an indigenous anarchist to these people who are so hostile to any worldview that doesn’t validate their luxurious industrial lifestyle and their driving desire to make that lifestyle more democratic in order to receive a bigger share of the pie.

Between the shouts of “reactionary lifestylist” and “dirty primmie” they lobby at me, I try to explain my perspective to them. I see suffering in the world and I want to make sense of it. I’m not satisfied just handwaving it away and clinging to fanciful utopian ideologies designed to energize European factory workers from the 1800s. I don’t believe red-industry will cure society of all its ills and free humans from their chains.

The warehouse I’ve worked in for more than a decade will not become magically liberating if I’m given the power of democracy. It’ll still be a miserable fucking place filled with toxic pesticides that are slowly killing me.

Some ancoms will no doubt unironically reply to this piece with reasoning that just amounts to "no, actually, anarcho-communist industry will be a utopia because Kropotkin said so". They’ll quote a bunch of literature to me that is nothing but empty promises by long-dead European philosophers for industrial egalitarianism. I’ve really run out of patience for that line of thinking. It’s no different than a 7 year old trying to win an argument by insisting “because my dad said so”... But when it comes down to it, that’s all most reds can do. Quote their heroes and cling to the hope that they’ll be proven right some day. That hope is what keeps them going as their miserable civilized lives burn the world up. “All our suffering will end once we have democracy in the workplace”. Those poor, deluded, hope-filled souls.

Everything I know tells me industry cannot be made "green" any more than capitalism can be made ethical. All agricultural industrial society in history has resulted in ecocide and eventually collapse. When you extract resources, burn fuel, manufacture goods and distribute them to millions or billions of people, you do real irreversible harm to ecosystems and human lives. Ancoms are not magical beings that can somehow escape the consequences of this because they're supposedly "good" and “egalitarian”.

If anarcho-communism were ever attempted, half the "nuances" it has will be thrown out for being fantastic, half-baked and impossible to implement in an industrial mass-society. Compromises will be made to make the system functional. A lot of things have been claimed about communism, but whenever its been attempted in real life models, almost none of those claims have come to fruition and they never will because:

a) Resources aren't infinite.

b) Industrial output has a high 'hidden' cost, and most importantly:

c) Work isn't voluntary.

No matter how much you swear you’ll make labor democratic, no one is working because they really want to. They’re working because the system requires them to work to survive. No amount of democracy will stop the system from asserting its authority on everyone inside its suffocating walls. Abolishing the borders between territories will do nothing if industrial civilization continues to box us in and starve us if we dare to resist its rule. If we can’t escape civilization, the whole world is nothing more than one big prison.

Civilized people labor to create consumer goods because the system gives them no other option if they want to survive. The only way people will continue to toil in the factories and warehouses in "a communist society" is if they are forced to by the system. No free hunter gatherer will voluntarily give up their freedom to stand at an assembly line pushing buttons so other people can have Corn Flakes, weedkiller and AAA batteries. It's something that needs to be forced on humans by domestication and the joined threat of violence and starvation that props up the industrial system.

Industry is a clear authority and anarcho-communist theory is completely oblivious to that. Anarcho-communism is nothing more than an attempt to reform the tyranny of civilization to give it a sly smile. It’s the anarchist version of Barack Obama promising change but just delivering more of the same and expecting you to celebrate it.

Seize the Means of Destruction! (And fucking burn it to the ground…)

Ancoms insist “people would choose to produce only what is needed” in an anarcho-communist society. That word; "needed" is really useless. Anyone can define anything as being "needed", but almost none of the things defined as such are actually needed. This is why industrial communism isn't really compatible with anarchy: anything and everything will be defined as "needed" by domesticated people, no matter how authority-forming the things are. If it means they get to keep consuming, anarcho-consumers would happily define everything from pesticides to slaughterhouses to automobile plants as “needed”. This is the power of democracy. Whatever narrative the collective adopts becomes the official, approved narrative and anyone questioning it will be seen as subversive and dangerous and a threat to order and common decency.

This "needed industry" argument is a lot like the "justified authority" argument a lot of red “anarchists” keep making to uphold every shitty authority they cling to all the way up to the state, prisons and the police.

Usually they’ll just rename these authorities “the commune”, “the social re-integration facility” and “the peacekeepers” and be satisfied that they’ve come up with a real change. It's meaningless. Domesticated people will not allow themselves to see past the carefully manufactured alienating world they’ve inherited. Very few civilized people are willing to risk losing what they perceive as the great comforts imbibed to them by industrial civilization.

Even if they recognize how strangling these “comforts” actually are to them and everything else on the planet, instead of rejecting them outright, they draw up elaborate plans to reform the way those “comforts” are produced and dispersed. Most of these plans, when deconstructed and debullshitted, ultimately amount to little more than slapping the word “anarcho” in front of everything and trusting it’ll be all good because it’s anarchized now.

People thrived without industry and agriculture for millennia. Civilization has led to the extinction of near everything on the planet. 99.9% of industrial goods are not "needed" by humanity, they're wanted.

Ancoms aren't going to suddenly decide to give up their phones, Doritos and washing machines when they find out they're environmentally destructive. They'll just rubber-stamp all the things they want as "needed", “eco-friendly”, “sustainable” or “green” and call it a day. And we’ll be expected to keep working our miserable jobs and like it because now they’re anarcho-jobs in an anarcho-society with anarcho-exploitation and anarcho-masters.

Keeping people in the mines and factories building those consumer goods that "the people" decide they "need" will require massive authority that will be just another iteration of capitalism in all but name. Just like “communist” Russia and “communist” China and “communist” North Korea. Not a trace of communism will survive once industrial civilization is done grinding everything up. There’s nothing about “anarcho-communism” that will spare it from the same fate. Claiming to be anti-authority rings hollow when you cling to authoritarian industrial civilization, workerism and all the other authorities ancoms at large decide are “justified”.

A bureaucracy will always be instilled in an organized mass-society and this is why industrial communism isn't tenable. It’s why every time industrial communism has been attempted, it has simply been manifested as a perverse collective-capitalism with even more centralized power than regular-flavor capitalism. The bureaucracy will quickly morph into a state, and by definition the society will no longer be communist. But of course, it’ll keep calling itself “communist” and ensure the distinction between capitalism and communism remains paper-thin so people won’t be able to envision a better world than the brutal industrial wasteland we’ve all been born into.

Any system that allocates resources and polices people is functionally a state, regardless of what it brands itself as.

All implementations of industrial society have failed to liberate people, instead making their lives more and more miserable with each stage of industrialism, and to claim that attaching “anarcho” to the front of an industrial system will make a difference is absolutely fucking ridiculous.

Communism has never succeeded at liberating us historically and will not suddenly succeed just because you promise you’re better than other communists and you and all your super-libertarian ancom comrades will pick up cans of paint and make all the chimney stacks bright green.

Authoritarian behavior will only ever be repeated if society is structured around authoritarian institutions like industrialism and democracy. Both Marx and Kropotkin’s communism are centred around these institutions because their ideologies require that people be controlled by bureaucracy. Whether it be decentralized democratic bureaucracy or centralized party bureaucracy is irrelevant. The result is the same: Authority and control.

Without this bureaucracy, the society would descend into anarchy. Yes, wonderful, amazing, freeing anarchy. The very thing every red fears most because it would mean they’d no longer get to forcibly structure society and people around their sacred ideology and force their authority and morality on them. Domesticated people sit trapped in sterile little boxes, fed a steady drip of pesticide and high-fructose corn syrup as they labor, consume, consume, consume and then die.

This isn’t life. This isn’t anarchy. This is a waking nightmare, a depraved hell-world that has all of us thoroughly brainwashed into thinking it acceptable. Branding it “communist” or “libertarian socialist” or “democratic” or “egalitarian” or “decentralized” or “anarcho-communist” will not end the nightmare. It will not stop the planet-wide ecocide civilization has wrought on all living things. The means of destruction being controlled by industrial workers instead of industrial bosses will not stop the ecocide.

Seizing the factories and making them democratically managed as all reds yearn to do won’t do anything to save us from violence, misery, alienation and eventual extinction.

The only way to destroy authority is to burn industry to the ground before it devours every last lifeform on the planet.

The only chance we have to survive what’s coming in the next few years as our ecosystems are collapsing all around us is to tear down every factory and close every port and slice up every road until civilization is in ruins.

But in all honesty, we’re not going to do that. We’re going to watch television and sip iced tea and we’re going to wait for the end. I’m going to keep watching in silence as the local bread man fells the last remaining wilderness.

Maybe the planet will recover somewhat in a few millennia and maybe the next lifeform that evolves will have more sense than the desertmakers. This is the last hope I cling to.

[magicman111]

A Moth to a Flame - Chapter One

Marcy watched the sun slowly set on Newtopia as she’d done many an evening before. The sharp squawks of the gulls rang through the orange sky. She looked quite the forlorn figure standing by the hotel entrance, the gentle evening breeze that ruffled her cloak underscoring her solitude.

Her eyes remained fixated in the same direction her friend had taken off, maybe in some fleeting fool’s hope she’d change her mind and come sprinting back right into her arms.

Not a chance, Marbles.

Anne was long gone by now. Hopefully, she’d caught up with the Plantars’ fwagon before they reached the city gate. Judging by how quickly she booked it, the odds were in her favor. That girl didn’t make varsity back home for nothing.

Marcy only hoped those sweet, simple frogs knew just how lucky they were to have someone like Anne in their lives.

Sighing, her head lowered, she licked her wounds slowly.

Really? That easy, huh?  

Could Anne have made it any more obvious that she wanted to get out of there faster than she did? After they’d been apart for so long, and for a family of farmer frogs whom she’d known for what? Months?

No, don’t do that, she pulled herself up. It wasn’t right for her to be mad at the Plantars. This wasn’t their fault. Sprig and Polly were a barrel of fun at the slumber party, providing you disregarded their life-threatening encounter with the jelly-fish ghosts. Hop Pop, meanwhile, reminded her so much of her own grandpa it was uncanny. They were sweet, decent folk who’d taken Anne in and kept her safe all this time. It was just...

Her lips twisted into a bitter frown. How else was she supposed to feel but a little rejected?

However, was she really allowed to complain when holding her tongue was so normalised for her by this point? Marcy was a people pleaser, she understood that much about herself. Anytime Anne and Sasha got into an argument, she was there to keep the peace and everyone happy. So if Anna-Banana wanted to spend more time with her bumpkin frog family than her literal best friend since preschool, who was she to say no?

The story with her folks wasn’t all that different either. When they pressured her to keep up her studies, up to and including PSAT prep despite it being years away, she did as she was told like a good girl to make them proud, and they were. She hoped they were.

Goodness knows what they must be thinking right now—

Nope nope nope! Don’t go there, don’t go there.

She’d already lost too much sleep at night ruminating over the unspeakable pain she’d most surely put them through, it was the last thing she needed right now. She tried to do the logical thing and focus on the positives instead. That usually worked.

Anne wouldn’t be away for too long. They’d be together again as soon as Hop Pop’s contacts returned the Box to Wartwood and then it was off to the first of the three temples to get those gems recharged. Once that side quest was done and dusted, it was a simple matter of finding Sasha and making their way home.

Looking down, she caught herself wringing her hands.

Home.

That sure was the plan.

I mean... what else are we supposed to do?

“Always sad to see someone go, isn’t it?”

Marcy quickly wiped her eyes and glanced over her shoulder to greet the towering form of King Andrias.

Almost instantly, her mood perked up a notch. He was the one person whom she trusted, more than anyone else in all of Amphibia. Ever since she first landed outside the city walls, he took her under his wings and ensured her smooth transition into this brave new world.

Andrias was without doubt one of the kindest and wisest people Marcy could have ever hoped to meet. He was a true listener, and there were very few you could say that about, her parents included. How often had he been there to lend both an understanding ear and sage advice over games of flipwart?

Games she won more often than not, she wasn’t humble enough not to brag.

It was also he who sent Marcy on the daring missions that would eventually make her the hero of Newtopian society she was today. All because he recognised the value of her talents beyond passing an exam or helping her friends with their homework. No other 13-year-old had their own solid gold statue adorning a city bridge.

She owed this king a debt she couldn’t possibly repay, but one he was far too altruistic in nature to demand.

Then, why did he look so... solemn?

“Come along, Marcy. We need to talk.”

Maybe it was his serious tone of voice or those specific choice of words, but they made the hair on the back of Marcy’s neck stand on end. In an almost pavlovian manner, she corrected her posture and she held her chin erect.

Shoving whatever remaining conflicted thoughts aside, she silently followed Andrias back to the castle like a pilot fish tailing its great white. She was so puny next to this tremendous salamander, he could crush her with a single blow of his fist if he so chose. Not that a gentle, goofy giant like Andrias would even dream of doing such a thing.

So when he was dead serious, Marcy knew better to zip it, listen, and do as instructed.

Their quiet journey took them all the way back to the castle and into the royal throne room, a place she was all too familiar with by now. To enter this hallowed hall was a privilege bestowed only to a select few. For Marcy, it was where she had her morning debriefs over bugachinos.

Instead of going straight up to the throne for their pow wow as she anticipated, Andrias guided her down a small passageway to their left.

When they made their way up to the statue of what Marcy recognised as one of his ancestors, one of the great rulers of Amphibia, they came to a stop. Andrias then gazed down at her with the most serious look she’d seen him give anyone.

“Marcy, before we go any further,” he spoke sternly, “I need to be absolutely crystal clear about something. Okay?”

“Y-Yes, Andrias?” Marcy asked, shivering a little. She did not like being pulled out of her comfort zone, not like this.

“You’re about to enter the most secret place in all of Newtopia,” he continued, now down on one knee and his hand hovering over her shoulder, as close as they could be to eye level. “What I’m going to show you... I need you to swear you won’t share with another living soul. Not to Anne, not to Lady Olivia, no one. Do you understand? I can’t emphasise this enough, Marcy.”

“Of course,” she answered earnestly, trying to sound more confident. “You know you can always trust me, Andrias.”

A ghost of that warm, fatherly smile returned to his big blue countenance.

“Trust is a hard thing to come by, kid, and you’ve gone above and beyond to earn mine. It’s just that I’m not exaggerating here when I say this is a big one.”

Marcy simply placed one hand over his huge index, the other over her heart.

She smiled back at him sweetly, genuinely, “I promise.”

“Very well.”

Nodding in approval, Adrias rose. He reached out, pushing a luminous coral torch upwards.

It didn’t take an encyclopedic knowledge of ‘Creatures & Caverns’ for Marcy to predict that the statue was going to shift to the left next, revealing the spiralling staircase leading to Frog knows where. She probably should’ve been more surprised, but come on, it wasn’t exactly the first secret passage she’d come across in this castle lately. 

“Follow me,” was all Andrias said, before he pulled off the same coral torch, then proceeded down the stairs without another word. Marcy followed obediently, unable to ignore the unnerving chill that was now travelling up her spine.

Was it... always this cold around here?

Something about all this just felt so unsettling compared to last time. She couldn’t really explain why; she knew she was safe with Andrias and that he wouldn’t do anything to intentionally put her in harm’s way. It was a gut feeling and that sort of thing bugged a rational person like her to no end.

She tried to take her mind off it by hazarding her best guess as to precisely what he was going to show her. Either she did that or started getting all worked up dwelling on Anne again, which she’d rather not at the moment.

Another secret library, perhaps? Probably not, though she wouldn’t be at all disappointed if it was. Maybe there were forbidden texts about the dark arts hidden away down there. Magic users were incredibly rare in Amphibia these days—Marcy had already searched far and wide—so might this be her chance?

Oh, how the very idea of being able to cast actual magic excited her. Being Chief Ranger of the Knight Guard was a great honor and nothing to sneeze at, but to be a powerful sorceress, one who could communicate with spirits, raise the dead, shuffle the orifices on her enemy’s faces—

Okay, rein those snails in, Mar-Mar.

Her musings were interrupted by a strange noise emanating from below. At first she figured it was just her imagination, but the further they continued their descent, the clearer it became.

It sounded an awful lot like beeping. Yes, that was it. A progressively growing cacophony of bleeps, bloops and chirps, the kind she’d expect to hear from a high-tech supercomputer. Something absolutely alien in a world like Amphibia, she and her friends excluded.

Before Marcy could ask Andrias if he heard it too, she was distracted by the emergence of an orange glow chasing away the darkness below. It was a warm, almost heavenly light that conjured the mental image of a crackling fireplace on Christmas morning, protecting you from the snowstorm outside.

The chill in her spine had by now spread to the crown of her head and the tips of her toes. Her throat tightened up. Beads of cold sweat dripped down her forehead.

What the... Marcy could not say a word, only think.

There was something down there. Something greater than any library, however inconceivable that sounded. Whether it was good or bad was irrelevant to her at that moment.

It called her.

The duo finally reached the foot of the staircase and entered the sacred sanctum.

Marcy’s jaw dropped.

“Woah.”

There were no shelves of books. No ancient Amphibian artifacts. There weren’t even any walls that she could make out from where she stood. Just an apparently endless sea of darkness encompassing a large round platform from which both the enticing glow and the lowkey din of beeps originated.

Marcy resumed taking Andrias’ lead as they stepped out onto the platform, the clink-clank of their boots confirming her assumption it was made of metal. The whole thing appeared more at home on an alien spaceship than in the dungeons of a castle.

Upon arriving at its centre, Andrias knelt down on both knees and, much to Marcy’s curiosity, removed his crown and set it down on the floor. She took the hint by following suit.

Any lingering fears melted away the more she basked herself in the radiance. It was as if the beams were steadily pouring into her body, clearing up her headspace, reducing any tension in her body. She recalled a favored memory from when she was five-years-old, when she and Anne spent a whole summer afternoon by the beach. How the tides would come in and out without fail, washing away the ruins of their sandcastles, the seaweed, one of Anne’s sandles and the teeny tiny baby seahorse they rescued.

Like a nice blank canvas.

Was this a private place of worship? Not according to her expansive studies of Amphibian anthropology. Or maybe it was a place for Andrias to meditate away from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the castle. Seemed a skosh excessive if that was the case.

“Truly captivating, I know.”

Andrais’ baritone brought Marcy back down to earth. She straightened up and tried to refocus herself. They were down here for an important reason, at least she believed they were.

“One can spend hours down here,” Andrias boomed ominously. “Adrift in their own thoughts and... dreams.” The light cast his face in a rather unnerving shadow as he stared ahead into the void. “But I’m sure you know I haven’t brought you here to show off my retreat from the world.” He took a long, deep breath, like he was mentally steeling himself for what he said next, “As much as it pains me to say it, I’m afraid I haven’t been entirely truthful with you, Marcy.”

He produced from his sleeve what appeared at first glance to be two giant pieces of parchment and unfolded them neatly on the metal surface. A closer inspection told Marcy they were in fact pages torn from an exceptionally large book. Judging not only by the size, but the font and format as well, she easily pieced together its origin.

“Are these...?”

“From the book we “found” in the wing?” Andrias chuckled mirthlessly. “Yes. Still kinda surprised you didn’t pick up there were pages missing, but that's not important right now. Please, read.”

The platform provided ideal reading light. Marcy’s ability to read at a 12th Grade level meant she cruised through the text and finished within minutes.

She read it once, then twice. A third and fourth time just to make sure her eyes weren’t deceiving her.

Her bottom began to tremble.

No... Nononono, this... this can’t be right. I-It’s impossible! How in the world can it...?!

No amount of curative rays could unfreeze the blood in her veins. The metaphorical pistons in her brain were firing on full cylinders in a vain attempt to digest this earth-shattering information. For a split second, she thought she was going to pass out.

Desperate, she turned to the stone-faced Andrias to plead for some kind of answer, but she found no words with which to speak. All the personal growth and development that made her Newtopia’s champion had been stripped of her and she was reduced to nothing more than a helpless lost toddler.

A comforting set of giant digits placed themselves under her chin, the same way a father would do for his daughter.

“All this time, I’ve been testing you,” Andrias told her, his voice full of pride. “The games of flipwart, the missions, the “secret library”, even the barbari-ant colony I had lured to the city. I was watching you, studying your every action. With each challenge I issued, you excelled my expectations. You’re an exceptionally talented human being, Marcy, truly worthy of the name ‘Wu’.”

Even if these words were meant to serve as comfort or encouragement, they had only the opposite effect for Marcy. Tears were leaking out the corners of her eyes.

She mustered only a pitiful whimper, “I-I don’t understand.”

“Don’t worry, kiddo,” he promised, “you will soon enough. He’s so excited to meet you.”

“... He?”

Lifting his mighty hand in the air, he thrusted it into the nothingness facing them. Marcy instinctively followed its direction.

“Marcy Wu,” Andrias’ thundering voice resonated throughout the sanctuary, “allow me to introduce you... to my master.”

No sooner had he finished, the whole world started to tremble at Marcy’s knees, throwing her off her balance. A rumbling, mechanical ROAR struck her ears so loud she had to cover them to protect the drums from rupture. Yet despite this sensory assault, she somehow forced her eyes to stay wide open. She needed to face whatever was coming.

Marcy gazed into the abyss.

And the abyss gazed back with all thirteen of its eyes.

Terror. Pure mounting terror overwhelmed every cell of her being. Her pupils shrunk to the size of pinpricks. If her mouth stretched any wider, her jaw risked snapping clean off its hinges.

Everything around her faded into black. Andrias, the platform and its glow, the beeping, all vanished into the ether. All now that existed were herself and those colossal demonic eyes plucked from the deepest recesses of her nightmares, their leer burrowing into her very soul.

Marcy wanted to scream until she coughed up her lungs. Moreso, she just wanted to wake up. This was all a dream, it had to be. A lucid dream that had gone on for far too long. She and her friends weren’t in another dimension inhabited by talking frogs, such a notion was a scientific absurdity. She sure as heck wasn’t a ranger in some anthropomorphic newt army.

Any moment now, her wizard kitty alarm would ring and she’d wake up in her soft, cozy bed. Dad would have left for work by now, planting a goodbye kiss on her sleeping forehead as he did every morning since she was little. Mom would be already making her her favorite congee rice and youtiao for breakfast. Then she would begin the process of packing up her room for the big move to Oregon like a good girl.

Yes, she would even happily do that. Anything to bring an end to this ordeal!

Shhhh

Her train of thought screeched to a sudden halt.

Marcy

It’s gonna be okay

And just like that, as if those were the five magic words required, everything was fine again. No more panic, no more existential terror. Her heart rate lowered to a steady, non-life threatening level.

The tide had risen up and washed Marcy’s mind clean.

Like a nice blank canvas.

What quickly followed was an epiphany of sorts.

There was nothing for her to fear. Once she accepted that fact, the warm sensation from before returned greater than ever, engulfing her in what could only be described as a spiritual hug. She could feel the pair of hands, tender as her own mother’s, caressing her face and flicking away her tears. They even ruffled her raven hair in the same playful manner.

Come to me, daughter of Wu

Let me get a good look at you

Marcy obeyed. Getting down on all fours, she crawled across the nonexistent ground—the laws of physics evidently had no place here—until her face and the eyes’ chief pupil were within inches of each other.

Fresh tears, now ones of ecstasy, trickled down her cheeks and evaporated in the pulsating heat.

“You’re beautiful.”

I know

We’ve gotta lot to talk about, Marcy

And I have a feeling...

You and I are gonna become the best of friends

[stxrrywildflower]

can’t help falling in love (five)

pairing - george weasley x reader

summary - you invite george to be your date to your sisters wedding

warnings - mentions of family/home issues

word count - 2.3k

series masterlist

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

george did everything in his power to take your mind off of the events at the wedding. his words still stuck in your mind, touching you far too deeply for you to forget.

you strolled around downtown london for a few hours before the reception, stopping in different shops along the way. george found a couple things he picked up for future pranks that you couldn’t find easily in the wizard world.

but you couldn’t avoid the inevitable event, you had to make an appearance at some point; your parents and other general family were already asking to catch up during the reception.

george pulled you aside before you could enter the building, the two of you finding yourself in one of the many side gardens.

“are you sure you’re okay with this? we don’t have to go,” george inquired.

you smiled softly at his concern. “i should be fine, george. it’s just dinner and then some partying. nothing i can’t handle.”

george nodded, clearly satisfied with your answer. “say the word and we’ll leave, okay?”

you squeezed his hands. “of course.”

upon entering, you were immediately ushered to your table by one of the waiters. george pulled your chair out for you, a comment about him being a gentleman rolling off of your tongue easily.

you were seated at the table with a few of your cousins who you, thankfully, got along well with. george was already starting up a conversation with one of them about their mutual love for jokes and making people laugh

as dinner was being served after your sister and jasper had entered, you felt yourself slowly easing into the environment. george played a key role in this, him taking time to glance over at you during his conversations to check on you and make sure you were okay. it was a simple enough gesture, but to you it meant the world.

you and george lingered towards the back as the tradition reception activities went on after dinner; speeches, cutting the cake, first dance. you much rather preferred to be out of ear range of most people, listening to the jokes george was making in your ear about everyone.

once the first dance was over, other people slowly started making their way to the main dance floor to join the wedding party.

you lingered back, not quite looking to jump at the opportunity to join them. that was, of course, until a certain song started playing.

george took note of your sudden behavioral change, looking down on you with a raised eyebrow.

“what song is this?”

you couldn’t help the smile that formed on your face from it. “it’s called can’t help falling in love. it’s by a muggle artist, elvis presley actually. it’s one of my favorites.”

“well then let’s go,” george jumped up, extending his hands out towards you.

you quirked an eyebrow at his actions, only slightly confused at his actions. george sighed, pulling you up to your feet and towards him.

“it would be rude of me to deny the prettiest girl here a dance to her favorite song,” he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

a blush spread across your cheeks as you bit your lip to hide your wide smile from the compliment. “alright,” you agreed. “let’s dance.”

george led you to the main dance floor, guiding you forward before turning you around to face him. his hand made his way to your hip, resting comfortably as the other went out to interlock with yours to the side. “this okay?” he asked to which you nodded. “perfect actually.”

you rested your head against george’s shoulder, humming along to the words of the song.

the rest of the room was soon forgotten; the moment feeling as though it was only you and george. no one else mattered, just you two wrapped up with each other as you slow danced.

tears pricked at the corner of your eyes. you weren’t sad, far from it if anything, but just the way george was treating you made you emotional.

george took note of this, his fingers moving to hook under your chin, effectively tilting your head up to look at him.

“what’s wrong, darling?”

“nothing,” you answered. “i’m just really happy right now, especially since i’m with you.”

the last part, possibly a stroke of confidence on your end, hit george like a bolt of lightning. every feeling, every emotion he felt about you weighed in; your laughs, your jokes, your personality, everything.

he held you a little closer to him, resting his head against yours as you swayed.

“so why do you like this song so much?”

“i don’t know,” you answered quietly. “i guess it became my definition of love. you haven’t heard it ever before besides now but it’s from the point of view of a guy who sings about a girl he’s meant to be with and can’t help falling in love with.”

george hummed, “it’s sweet.”

“i always get goosebumps from it,” you stated. “something about the melody always gets me.”

his fingertips ghosted across your skin, feeling the little tiny goosebumps as he ran them across. “you weren’t lying,” he spoke.

you shook your head, tilting it up a moment later to look at him. “one-hundred percent telling the truth.”

george leaned down to press his forehead against yours, noses just barely touching. your eyes fluttered shut, focusing on the contact between you two. you could feel his breath hot on your skin, just millimeters away from your lips.

you wanted to lean in, to stop dancing around the constant flirting and barely platonic touches and finally seal the deal. but you knew you couldn’t, it wouldn’t be okay to do without george agreeing; in no way did you want to overstep your boundaries.

george had to have felt something too, his face flushing a deep red as you turned your cheek, pressing it back into his shoulder.

the final chords of the song were playing out, signaling the end of the group of slow songs. you frowned, only slightly sad that your time slow dancing with george would be ending soon. sure more could be played later in the night, but who knew how much longer you would be in attendance.

“do you want to get out of here? maybe go talk?” george ducked down to whisper in your ear.

you nodded against george’s shoulder, “that sounds nice.”

you bid a quick goodbye to a few guests, primarily your sister and parents; passing on a simple ‘congratulations’ at the new chapter in her life. there was no signs that the party would be ending soon, but the conversation with george took importance over all of that.

george grabbed his jacket off of the chair, slinging it over his shoulder before meeting back up with you to guide you out.

the venue was right on the serpentine lake, overlooking the water and various reflections of the city and trees.

you walked along the water for a bit, george holding your hand as you strolled. neither of you could deny the moment you had whole dancing, it was clear both of you had felt at least something. you just didn’t know what to say.

“do you want to stop here? i think we’re a good distance away,” george offered.

you hummed, already moving to take a seat down on the soft grass. true to his words, the spot was a fair amount from the venue. the lights still illuminated sections of the water in the distance, but no music or small talk could be heard.

“so are we going to talk about it? or are we just going to tip-toe around it like we’ve been doing all weekend.”

george took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for his next word choice. he drew his knees up to his chest before speaking.

“i love you y/n.”

you froze, not quite sure if you had heard the words george spoke correctly.

“and you don’t have to say it back, merlin i don’t even know if you feel the same way but i just can’t keep it in anymore.”

for once, you were out of words. love was such a foreign feeling to you. hearing it from your best friend was even more alien.

“you love me?” you spoke after a moment.

george nodded, hand moving up to swipe away a few stray tears that had fallen. “have for a long time. i just haven’t ever said anything. i always thought it was something that would go away, that i could eventually get over it.”

his voice had fallen off at the end, pressing his cheek to his knees as he turned away from you. despite the amount of times you had reassured him, george hated crying in front of you.

you reached out to place your hand on top of his, immediately retracing when he flinched away. not once in the time of you knowing him had george ever jerked away from a small gesture like that.

“george, you could have talked to me. you know that.”

george choked out a half sob-half laugh at your response. “and say what y/n? tell you i’m in love with you, just like that? fuck, i don’t even know how you would have reacted. on no level would it be fair to you to ruin our friendship over some feelings i can’t contain anymore.”

the wave of silence washed over you once again like the tide; george’s words being pushed out as your feelings were finally pulled in.

george was your best friend, no doubt about it. you’d spent your most defining years together, playing games and pulling pranks as well as celebrating anything and everything from holidays to good grades.

but he was different than his twin; you found his compassion more endearing, his care more comforting. his love language versus his twins hit deeper.

every single moment with george was special in its own way, never dull in the slightest. you were so dumbfounded on how you hadn’t seen anything in his emotions before.

you loved george.

“i would have said it back,” you mumbled.

george’s head slowly rised to meet your eyes, concern still laced in his facial structure. he didn’t want to get his hopes up, multiple layers to your words still being unveiled.

“that i love you, i mean,” you clarified. “i guess this trip has made me truly realize it.”

everything you said you meant, there was no a doubt in your mind about it. if you were being honest, it was the one thing you were the most sure of in your life.

“i’m scared georgie,” you quickly admitted. “terrified actually. i’ve never felt like this before.”

george shifted closer to you, though he didn’t make the initiative to hold your hand or wrap a comforting arm around you. he didn’t want to push his boundaries, especially after you had both admitted your mutual feelings for each other.

“and that’s perfectly understandable, love. it’s new to me too. we can learn together.”

you turned to george, tears in your eyes mirroring the ones in his own. with just one blink, the flow had started. george reached out to thumb your tears away. “god we’re so dumb, why did we wait so long?” you questioned.

george laughed, shaking his head slightly at your words. “well i mean, we’re dumb kids in love. i don’t think either of us expected this to happen tonight.”

with that, you broke out laughing too; a grin passing over your face. everything felt near perfect in that moment, like you were finally content with your inner emotions.

“can i kiss you?”

you nodded, “yeah.”

george leaned forward first, hand moving up to hold your cheek before pressing his lips to yours. warmth spread throughout you immediately, the feeling unknown to you, though not a bad thing by any means.

it was only slightly awkward at first, it taking you both a bit to adjust to the other person. your heart was pounding in your chest, only finding the ability to concentrate how soft, how good george’s lips felt on your own.

you reluctantly pulled away first, finding yourself out of breath and needing air. george kept his eyes trained on you, wanting to make sure the entire sequence wasn’t a dream. it felt too good to be true, something that would have happened in a different lifetime. but here he was, lips puffed out and slightly red.

george pulled you close to him, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. it was just you and him at this moment, the party in the distance being far from your minds. all that mattered to you was him, and the same for george.

after a delicate kiss to your bare shoulder, george slowly moved his hands down to your waist, guiding you slowly to press your back against the grass.

“is this okay?” george asked as he cupped your face gently.

you brought your hand up to cover his, running your thumb back and forth over the back of his hand, humming gently to confirm your comfort.

with that, george leaned down to kiss you again, body partially covering yours as you leaned up to reach more of him.

it was pure bliss - finally being able to kiss the boy you had been, without even realizing it, pinning over since first year. your feelings had been burried down over many years of friendship, you being too scared to admit that you were even in love with him.

sure a relationship, especially with george, was still something you were extremely new and nervous with, but george made you the best version of yourself, made you feel safe; george felt like home.

“i love you so so much,” george mumbled against your lips. “you have no idea how happy you make me.”

a giggle escaped your mouth, heart feeling full at his words.

“i love you too.”

⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢

tagging - @goldenxreid @wilburxpancakes @sunlightgalaxy @criminaly-supernatural @blakes-dictionxry @mrs-dr-reid @weasleytwinsfav @theguppienamedbae @fadesbrina @lilypad-55449

[jesuschristtakethewheel]

Wanna Bet?

Summary: “I bet you can’t go 24 hours without cussing.”

Warnings: Lots of explicit language. Very creative explicit language. Basically crack humor.

Word Count: 2178 (Officially the longest thing I have ever written)

This is for @navybrat817​ and @stargazingfangirl18​ ‘s writing challenge (i finished with 3 hours to spare lol) and the prompt that I used is bolded below. Although it isn’t smut, I really hope you enjoy!

It started as a bet, as most things do. You couldn’t believe the whole world thought Steve Rogers, also known as Captain America, was the epitome of chivalry and good manners. You guess people idolized the 40s as having chivalric gentlemen, who could do no wrong. If you went on national television and told everyone the all-American, patriotic Captain America said twelve variations of the word “fuck” in the last minute, not a single soul would believe you. It was honestly ridiculous and a bit naive of the public to think a man from Brooklyn in the 1930s, who served in the US Army, who had been standing up to bullies ever since he could walk, wouldn’t ever curse. 

When you were preparing to meet Captain America for the first time, you understood that he would be different from what the media portrayed him to be. But you really didn’t expect that you would meet Captain America while he was cursing out a bag of broccoli. The fact that Captain America cursed wasn’t surprising to you, but the fact that Captain America cursed like a sailor -- very, very creatively and for the dumbest of reasons -- was, frankly, both hilarious and offsetting. You didn’t think you would ever be able to get the thought of Steve describing broccoli as “fuckin’ green dickweasels who’re making a mockery of actual trees” out of your head. 

It was an hourly occurrence to hear new inventive curses from Steve, such as “wankhammer”, “fopdoodle”, “douchenozzle”, and “cockwaffle”. Your personal favorite was “fucktangular”, but “asstrumpet” was a close second.

_________

You knew two things: you were exhausted and the world was safe for now. Each step leeched the remaining scraps of energy from your body as you trudged, one step at a time, back to the Avengers Compound. The lingering slime from the aliens that attacked had made its way everywhere - inside your combat gear, in your hair, and even in between your toes. Every movement you made was accompanied by a cacophony of squelches, curses and groans, both from you and the other Avengers. Steve didn’t disappoint, commenting that “the arsebadger aliens could have been cleaner” while futilely attempting to wipe the slime off his shield, only managing to spread it even more.

Entering the elevator with the others, you leaned against the side rails and waited, transferring some alien remains to the elevator while doing so. Too tired to do anything, but too wired to sleep, you collapsed on the couches in the lounge and the others followed your lead. 

“Fuck.” Steve groaned. Everyone turned to look at him and found he was sprawled like a starfish on the floor. The supersoldier had fallen off the floor. If you had the energy to do so, you’d be laughing your head off.

“I thought you could do this all day, Mr. America?” Bucky smirked. He was the only one still standing, and wasn’t even looking at Steve. He was sharpening his knives in the corner of the room. Fucking supersoldiers with enhanced senses.   

“Leave me alone, dickweasel.” Steve muttered, rolling onto his side while flipping Bucky off.

“Hey Cap,” you called, voice slightly muffled by the couch cushions. “You curse so often that I bet you can’t go 24 hours without cussing.”

“Capsicle can’t go an hour without cursing, let alone a whole day,” Tony said, grinning. “He’d never take the bet.”

Steve huffed. Everyone knew about Steve’s competitive streak. He would never back down from a bet. “It’s on. Starting at 12 tomorrow, I’m not allowed to use any curse words for 24 hours. I’ll be tracked by F.R.I.D.A.Y all day so there aren’t any complaints. If I win, Y/N has to do both of our mission reports for a month.” 

You narrowed your eyes, knowing Steve was well aware of your tendency to procrastinate on or even forgo doing the mission reports entirely. “And when I win, you’ll allow us to get a team cat! And I get to name them.” You were met with groans from your teammates. 

“But you always pick the stupidest names,” Sam said, crossing his arms and glaring at you. “Remember your plants? Who names a succulent ‘Eggboi’?”

Before you could respond to Sam’s slander of your naming abilities, Steve cut in. “Deal.”

_________

It was 11:59 am and the Avengers were gathered in a circle, surrounding you and Steve as you shook hands. 

“I think I’ll name them ‘Le Ole Razzle Dazzle’. It has a certain ring to it, wouldn’t you agree?” You smirked. “Or Razzmatazz for short.” 

Steve frowned. “First of all, that’s a terrible name. Secondly, you’re severely underestimating my self-control -”

“This bullshit’s coming from someone who jumped out of a plane WITHOUT a parachute,” Bucky interrupted. “Self-control, my ass.”

While Natasha was kind enough to cover up her laughter with a cough, no one else gave Steve the same courtesy. With tears in his eyes from the laughter, Sam announced, “The bet starts in three. Two. One.” 

When it became clear that nothing interesting was going to be happening for the time being, everyone left to do their own thing, leaving you and Steve alone. You smiled at Steve as innocently as you could, fluttering your eyelashes to seem less suspicious. He just looked at you weirdly.

“You’re planning something.” It wasn’t even a question. You should have known Steve was too smart to fall for your puppy eyes. The fact you tried using the puppy eyes trick was quite ironic as you were planning on winning a kitten. 

“Mayhaps, my good friend. But you can’t stop me.” You laughed as you ran out of the room, leaving Steve shaking his head at your antics.

Time for Phase Two. 

_________

You held your breath - afraid that one wrong move would alert the enemy to your position. Slowly placing your hand on the metal grate in front of you, you peered through the bars of the vent to make sure the target was still in sight. Although crawling through the vents was a bit more Hawkeye’s style than yours, you needed to be as stealthy as possible.

Your mission was simple - subdue the target by any means necessary. 

Lifting the grate slowly, you managed to lift it enough to pass through. There was a small clang as you moved, and you held your breath to make sure no one was looking or had noticed you before sliding feet first out of the hole. You were free-falling for only a couple of seconds, with your legs together, making sure to point your feet. Your arms were above you, hair floating above you. You couldn’t help but revel in the glimpse of weightlessness which made it seem like you could fly.

You landed, exactly as you intended, on your target’s shoulders, twisting until both yourself and Captain America were on the floor, with you on top. You hoped that wasn’t the last time you were on top of Steve.

“Jesus Christ! What the fu-” Steve stopped and took a deep breath, craning his neck to look at your smug face. “Fudge.” You pouted. “That was dirty, Y/N. I didn’t expect this from you.” You couldn’t believe he was using the patriotic Captain America gaze of disappointment on you.

Grumbling, you picked yourself off the floor and dusted yourself off. You extended your hand out to Steve who, after narrowing his eyes at you, took it. He was honestly right to doubt your intentions. As soon as Steve turned around, you took the liberty to smack his ass. Hard. 

Steve whirled around with a wounded look on his face. “Y/N!” he shouted, hand reaching back to rub his butt. Seeing the innocent smile on your face, he huffed and walked out, completely ignoring the sniggers from the rest of the people in the room.

“Love you too, Cap!” you called out after him. He just flipped you off.

_________

Steve was fed up with the bet. You had been provoking him all day, popping up at the most random times to cause chaos and get him to break. He bet you could give Loki a run for his money for his title as ‘God of Mischief’. 

Sometime while he was training, you had snuck into his apartment and had rigged his bathroom door to dump a bag of flour on his head, so he literally could not take a shit in peace. Fuming, he punched a clean hole through his wall, which Tony was certainly not happy about, and tried to lay down on his bed before realizing that someone had replaced his bed with one that was too short so his legs hung off the sides. Steve had to take a minute to stop himself from giving you a piece of his mind.

That wasn’t all. Even Fury was in on the bet. On Y/N’s side. He had been called into Fury’s office under the guise of getting a new mission but was instead locked in the room with the song “Never Gonna Give You Up” by Rick Astley blaring on the speakers for an hour. He ended up punching the window and jumping out of the building to escape the torture. It definitely was not one of his finer moments. Y/N was going to pay for what she did.

_________

There was only an hour left of the bet. Steve had survived a feather ambush, a cactus crowd, and a salt shaker stuck to his leg. (It was still stuck. He couldn’t get it off.) All things considered, Steve was feeling pretty smug, certain that he would win. But when he took one look at Y/N’s face, he immediately thought again. 

Trying to escape, he speed-walked into the lounge, trying to escape from Y/N, but not wanting to be rude. Instead of an empty room, every single Avenger was there. Raising one eyebrow, Steve walked past Bucky, who smirked at Steve, and tried to open the door. When it didn’t open, Steve looked back at all of the smiling Avengers. 

“Why am I being locked out?” All Steve wanted to do was wait out the rest of the bet in his room, but sadly, the Avengers were a bunch of nosy bitches who liked to bet on his life.

“Well, I didn’t want you to miss out on the main event,” you drawled, tilting your head slightly with an innocent look on your face as Steve slowly turned around and pouted.

“Just get on with it.”

You beamed, pulling out a tablet. “It will be my pleasure.”

The lights dimmed dramatically, leaving the room in darkness except for the spotlight, which shone directly at the corner of the room, where Bucky just happened to be leaning against the wall. Picking at his nails with a knife, Bucky was unbothered by the stares and the cameras pointed at him, taking his time to start talking.

“This is what I call the incident of a thousand seconds.”

Bucky didn’t even get two sentences in. “Absolutely not.” Steve wanted to curse up a storm. “No way.”

Natasha cut in. “Well, now I’m intrigued. Spill.” 

“I’m just saying. You know exactly how to end this, pal.” Steve just glared. There was no escape. If Bucky put his mind to something, there was no stopping him.

“As you know, Steve respected one Peggy Carter.” Steve groaned loudly, shoving his face into his hands. “One day, Peggy wanted to ask Steve about some battle strategies, but it wasn’t the right time.”

“Do you really have to make puns about my misery?” 

As if Steve hadn’t spoken, Bucky carried on. “Steve had just gotten back from a successful mission and was celebrating with the rest of the Howling Commandos. Peggy came by and asked Steve if he ‘had a sec’. And poor, poor, Steve. Without even thinking, he responded ‘Yes, I have a lot of--’”

“Oh fuck off, Buck.” The room spun around to face Steve, whose face paled. “No.” His eyes widened. “I didn’t say that out loud.” But, looking at Y/N’s grin, he knew he had messed up. “Fucknugget.”

_________

Steve wasn’t one to go back on his word. The next day, he signed the paperwork for Y/N to adopt a pet. He hoped that with Natasha going with you to the animal shelter, she would stop you before going too far, but he very much doubted it. The newest addition to the team was set to arrive any minute, and he could tell that Sam and Bucky were the most excited.

“And a drumroll please,” you shouted, always having a flair for the dramatics. Steve didn’t move an inch. Unbothered, you held up a gray kitten like it was Simba from the Lion King. 

“Introducing… Princess Avocado Elizabegg Eggbert.” 

Steve let out a wail of anguish. “Please. I’m begging you. Please change her name.” 

“No.” Cuddling Princess Eggy closer, you made indecipherable high-pitched sounds at your new baby“Please?”

“You’re such a sore loser.”   

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@tessabennet​ Thank you for reading this and encouraging me to finish!! :)

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