#I complained about the other person who said the show was somehow racist and like. even if I never heard anyone else ever say anything

[aromanticannibal]

I saw someone complain about how apparently raine was created only to be eda's love interest and op was like hoho ofc the only nb character is a love interest with no character development and like.

I'm sorry I am physically unable to see this as a problem. raine is good representation, like they just are. not ever queer character needs to be incredibly important to the plot to be good rep? also it's not like raine is a side character that was thrown in in the back for cheap rep, they have an important role for eda's developpment and theyre literally the head of the rebellion against belos (aside from eda who rebels against everything). and THEY'RE NOT THE ONLY NON BINARY CHARACTER EITHER?? masha I think is their name is nb too (and they are a very very side character but we already have raine it's not like they're the only nb character again) and the collector uses he/they pronouns im pretty sure. good lord.

I want to bang my head against a wall. how do you Live.

it reminds me of when I saw someone saying TOH is shit queer representation and racist (??? somehow) because it doesn't do enough? bro? the main character is a neurodivergent OPENLY bisexual black latina girl. what do you want MORE. she's in a relationship with her lesbian girlfriend, the world girlfriend was said, trey kiss and hold hand. They put so much diversity in this show it got fucking canceled.

[olderthannetfic]

https://olderthannetfic.tumblr.com/post/741535020460736512/httpswwwtumblrcomolderthannetfic740933819656

The strangest thing about this fandom is that I feel like the kind of fanfic that people like this person LIKE (I don't know who this person is but just guessing based on their Takes) reads as a lot more racist to me. Like people who can't seem to be able to write Julian Bashir, a character who was not given any specific racial or cultural background in the actual show (which was apparently his actor's choice) other than maybe Vaguely British, as having this very like, stereotypical idea of what it is to be Middle Eastern/North African. And obviously it's one thing if it's someone who is MENA writing about their own culture - you can usually tell when that's the case, IME from fanfiction - but when you get people who are not MENA and aren't particularly informed on the culture other than reading a few Wikipedia articles, and feel the need to write him like visiting relatives in the desert who are all wearing thawbs or something... like I'm sorry but I think that just says a Lot that you can't view an Arab character without doing that, and that you seem to think it's a Problem With The Show that he's not already depicted that way!

(And some of these people do at least a minimum of research but some don't - I remember seeing one fic that said that Persian was a dialect of Arabic. Buddy. Pal. They aren't even in the same language family. Persian is more closely related to English than Arabic...)

I think it was brought up in an earlier ask in this chain about how a lot of people are focused on Represent the Culture and dont' realize how acting like everyone of a particular ethnicity has the same cultural background is itself racist, and particularly the idea that non-white people from Western countries (and Europe especially) somehow can't truly be Of That Country. It just really makes me feel like a lot of this discourse is being increasingly driven by people other than who it affects, because that is something that I hear people who are minorities living in Europe complain about constantly.

--

[salt-volk]

Saw the post about "other sites" and I'm feeling ~salty~, so lemme give some context for where the bar is with pet sites to y'all. Maybe you've seen ads, maybe you tried playing it and quit because the tutorial is its own circle of hell, maybe you're a blessed person who has never heard of it: Sylestia. It's run by one (1) man. He codes the entire site, has exactly 0 help - by choice. People have literally offered to help him with coding stuff *for free* and he refuses to let anyone touch his precious code.  His ex girlfriend (yes you read that right) is supposedly the other admin - she barely ever shows up, posts games/events that are full of errors, once vanished in the middle of running a game, and has personally insulted players before because they dared offer feedback on one of her ugly ass designs. There is exactly one artist for avatar items and one for pets - one other artist is listed in the credits but it's unclear what regular work, if any, they do for the site. Over 200 different avatar items are released per year, and new pet traits debut anywhere between 4-8 times per year, AND the site is in the (glacially slow) process of redoing all the art for various species. The site is at least 98% RNG by volume - including items you pay premium currency for. Retired items? RNG only. Getting pets? RNG. Getting items period? RNG. And the RNG is also awful - people are constantly having to literally beg for rates to be adjusted.  Plenty of features for events are also just. straight up gambling - you can pay solid chunks of premium currency and walk away with items that are literally worth nothing. You think DV is grindy? Sylestia not only practically requires you to spend a full workday glued to it - including events that basically require you to literally not sleep for several days - the site owner is actively making new content to further encourage ridiculous amounts of grinding. Why? Because he's worried that older players will be bored without new content - so instead of fixing any of the old content on the site, or the site itself which is a mess, he makes new content that ALSO doesn't work.  As of December, the site will be in its ELEVENTH YEAR IN BETA. So when I say "not fixing old content", I'm not talking like, a couple glitches or iffy art. I'm talking *half the site is completely incompatible with the other half*.  And all of that my friends, is still somehow not the source of my salt.  Someone pointed out to the site owner that one of his avatar items was, perhaps, a bit racist. It was (I should say is, it's still on the site :) ) a stereotypical native american dress, CLEARLY based off of the stupid Pocahontas movie, titled "Pow Wow Costume". It was released with a Pilgrim costume in the site's early years. Pretty not great, yeah? Multiple people complained, provided him sources explaining why "Maybe don't keep this on here, maybe this isn't great".  He, is white. He responded by saying he a) would not remove it, b) did not think it was offensive, c) what about the Christmas items or St. Patrick's day items the site has aren't those the same, and d) he actually visited a reservation once so he knows it's OK to have those items, and e) native players should actually be HAPPY to have those items because it was to iNcLuDE tHeM.  I am not joking.  The site has 0 acknowledgement of pride month, not a banner, not an announcement, no items, no anything - it DOES however have an entire festival for the American Fourth of July holiday. The owner claims he doesn't like to have political things on his site, make of that what you will.  The owner also issued a mass ban on a bunch of people because they said some rude shit (about the racist items, the rng, his refusal to get coding help, general issues taking feedback, etc.) in a private, off-site discord server. How did he know what they said? Why, he asked some players in the server to *spy on the others for him*.   He edited time stamps out and published a bunch of the screenshots from this private server, out of context and who knows if they were edited, and threw a public tantrum about how the players were harassing him and secretly planning to destroy the site… by bitching in a private discord.  So yeah. Not excusing Anji's behavior, but happy to show y'all exactly how much worse it could be LMAO. 

[blackgirlsuperherorants]

Stuckys, we need to talk. Like, seriously.

I understand you're upset that Stucky is not canon in the MCU, but you have got to stop yourselves from using that fact to shit all over Black characters just because of their newfound proximity to Bucky Barnes. Seriously. No, seriously. I'm going to call a bunch of you out, now, but I hope you listen and take heed.

1) This isn't about queer representation for you. It's about Chris and Sebastian being hot white men and you wanting to see them make out on screen. And that's literally fine, who doesn't want to see that? But you need to start admitting that's what it is. Because if it wasn't about that, and it was really about queer representation, so many of you wouldn't be calling Sam Wilson "sloppy seconds", and y'all wouldn't treat both Sam and Anthony like an afterthought. Even with a lot of y'all becoming Sambucky shippers, you're doing it under the guise of Sam being some sort of consolation prize because Bucky can't have Steve. Sam has no agency, and also is treated like he isn't as good. Literally, I saw a TikTok with some girl pretending to be Bucky and Sam, and having Bucky literally tell Sam he's sloppy seconds because he can't have Steve. Literally yikes, guys.

Also, it's always girl fans who do this. I'm not saying there aren't any, but I never see gay men who are MCU fans shipping in this toxic way. And I definitely have seen gay men ship Stucky, but I swear to God there seems to be a clear difference in the way they ship vs the white girls who clearly just want to watch Chris and Sebastian make out. Literally every toxic Stucky I've ever seen who does stuff like this is a white girl. I'm not going to say no gay men are toxic fans, because there probably are some, but the amount of fans I see shitting on Sam who are white girls far outweighs any toxic Stucky gay man. Like I always say on here, Stucky is an obvious ship and I understand why people ship it, but it never had to be canon and treating it like it's the end all be all, and especially shitting on other ships like Sambucky, is really weird and, again, makes it obvious that it's not really about queer representation for you.

2) Bucky is allowed to flirt with Sarah Wilson. The same girl I saw saying Sam was "sloppy seconds" also said Bucky was only flirting with Sarah because she's an "extension of Sam", and because Kevin Feige won't let Sambucky happen so Sarah is the stand in. How insulting and sexist to insinuate that a woman is simply an extension of her male family member. No matter how you meant it, that's a really sexist notion. I've seen people make funnier jokes, like Bucky can't decide which Wilson sibling he likes, or he's going to become a Wilson one way or another. Neither of those jokes takes autonomy and humanity away from Sarah. ALSO, Sarah is a dark skinned Black woman being portrayed as desirable to the white boy fave on a major TV show that is part of the biggest film franchise in the world. I'm not sure if y'all know how much colorism effects Black women, especially dark skinned Black women. Hollywood almost never casts dark skinned Black women as desirable love interests. Especially one that isn't super modelesque with basically European features and bone straight hair. This is a positive thing for representation of dark skinned Black women, and I KNOW you've seen how happy Black girls were just seeing that 2 second interaction. How dare you reduce it to being there because Marvel stole your Stucky, and especially not because she's simply "an extension of Sam." At this point, there's no clear indication that Sarah and Bucky will literally happen, but goddamn, you can't let Black girls be a love interest for just one second? Even if you like "queer Bucky", bisexual men exist, damn. Sticking Bucky with Sharon for no reason, like they did with Steve, would have been weird and bad and you would have been more valid for questioning Marvel's motives for doing it, but letting Bucky be himself and flirt with a cute girl on a boat for 2 seconds isn't a bad thing. And if Sarah does actually become his girlfriend, it's an absolute win, and you need to let Black girls have this.

Like, I get Stucky, and I also understand wishing Marvel would just finally let any main character be actually queer. I seriously understand. But can you complain about that without shitting on the Black characters and the fans who are happy about them, right now?

I never was a fan of Stucky, because I don't think you have to have romantic feelings for someone to care about them that deeply, so I don't understand the Stucky shipper assertion that Marvel somehow stole something owed to them... but I also do understand why you ship it, and it's honestly not a bad ship. You guys just take it too far and make things uncomfortable for everyone else. And, as I've been saying for years, sometimes you make it lowkey racist. People have been shipping Stevesam since CA:TWS and you guys have downplayed it the entire time, and even used Sam as Steve's stand-in for Bucky in your fics and all of that. I remember reading fics tagged Stevesam where Steve would be having sex with Sam and then reminiscing about how it was with Bucky and wishing he were still with him, and y'all literally never saw how gross that was. Using Sam like a consolation prize. Now Steve is gone and you're still treating him like that.

And Sam and Bucky have never once treated each other like a stand-in for Steve. They treat each other like individuals with autonomy, and they even care for each other on the level that the other person needs it. It's actually really fucking good, the canon version of their relationship that's unfolded with the show. If y'all could let go of Steve for a second, literally, you would see how great Sambucky's dynamic is and that neither of them would ever see the other as "sloppy seconds" or some kind of consolation prize. It's gross.

Also, I hope Sarah gets that super soldier dick just to piss y'all off.

I'm done.

[teaholder]

People for the most part aren’t saying shit like “uwaaaa simon deserved to die because he was irredeemable!” Literally the whole point was that he could have changed and was given multiple opportunities to, but he chose not to. His death isn’t justified, it’s supposed to be fucked up and sad. Grace literally starts sobbing and holding the ashes of her best friend. She WANTED him to change and he ignored her and uhhhh LITERALLY THREW HER OFF THE TRAIN-

Everyone is aware Simon has trauma. But Grace has trauma too and she improved herself. And the reason that people say “Grace did nothing wrong” is because 97% of Simon fans are racist and misogynistic. Blaming all of his shitty behavior on her, saying his behavior was justified because “Grace lied to him” (never mind the fact that she lied to him because she knew that he would have zero problem KILLING A SIX YEAR OLD-), complaining about how Simon didn’t get redeemed in a show about redemption even though Grace is the protagonist of b3 and the whole season was about her redemption. If anyone says something like “fuck Simon and his white boy problems” it’s because we’re fucking tired of black characters getting shit on because everyone favors the white boy instead. There’s also obvious racist coding on him where he he expects Grace to owe him everything and tell him how to behave

I’ll also say the npd incident on Twitter is shitty as fuck, but it wasn’t a confirmation. An ignorant part of the crew said Simon was a narcissist, got called out, and took it back. It’s a huge stretch to say the season was ableist for killing him. Also anyone with any disorder can be shitty and they aren’t exempt from being called out. You can argue that the killing off of Simon was ableist because it implies that he deserved to die for having npd, but I literally covered that point in the beginning by saying his death was never supposed to be deserved

The last thing I’m gonna say is that like. Do people know they can like an antagonist character without trying to justify their actions??? I personally had fun watching Simon be a bastard and that’s why I liked him. Sometimes a character is traumatized but also a bastard that’s fun to hate. That’s the point of most villains

Sayonara

...okay. with all due respect, anon, not only are you wrong; you are also quite literally proving my point. i'll try to keep this as brief as can be, which if i were honest, might not be very brief.

for starters, most of the people who vehemently hate simon– which really consists of a majority of the fandom, let's be honest– reiterate that his "refusal to change," (ie. his refusal to redeem himself) is why he deserved to die. because if grace changed, learned, and grew as a person, he could have, too; however, his perceived refusal to do so makes him somehow worthy of his demise. this mindset, accompanied with some other things i'll be touching on later, makes it evident that there was ableism written into the show with simon's character. however, we can get to that in due time, since i want to respond to some of the other things you brought up first.

i'm well aware that his death is supposed to be fucked up and sad. that being said, his death can be fucked up and sad while also having ableist ideology embedded within it– the ableism is the problem here. also, if it was meant to be so sad, then why did they demonize him to the extent that they did, and why did the audience celebrate his death? all that being said, i will leave the mentions of the ableism for when i get to where you bring it up.

second of all, saying simon was given multiple opportunities to change ignores the fact that without guidance, some people will not be able to change. without a support system, some people will not be able to change. and don't come in here with "grace guided and supported him!" or "grace doesn't owe him any of that!" as if support isn't something almost everyone needs in order to grow; especially support from a friend. as for my first example, she really didn't guide or support him; not in the way he needed to grow as a person. all of his "opportunities" to change were moments where grace ended up lashing out at him for doing something wrong without explaining to him what he was doing that was wrong. she'd simply end up putting distance between them– making simon think she's going to abandon him just like samantha had– or saying something along the lines of "now's not the time, simon." and scolding him; or, at worst, pulling rank on him. people like simon need love and support to grow as people, and of course you're going to want it from someone you admire and trust. literally the only reason grace came to grow was because she was shown love by this little girl and she saw how much the girl– who she believed to be human at the time– loved this denizen as if she were her own mother. that made her realize she was wrong about the denizens.

the only reason it didn't work like that with simon was due to his previous experiences with samantha. telling himself that the denizens didn't have real emotions was the way he coped with the abandonment. calling them "null"s and saying they don't feel anything made it easier for him to accept that he was abandoned, because that'd mean if they did feel something, then samantha just didn't care for him enough. i know we're on the topic of simon and grace, but it's important to touch on at least one of the reasons why simon's "opportunities" to grow weren't really opportunities, since he's so deep in his maladaptive coping mechanisms and disordered thinking processes that it just doesn't occur to him that tuba was actually capable of loving hazel. even right before he killed tuba, he still believed what he believed despite what he knew about her since he just couldn't wrap his mind around a denizen genuinely caring for a person.

thirdly, on your point of him throwing her off the train– i'm not saying he was in the right to do so, because... no, he obviously wasn't. however, he wasn't initially planning on throwing her off after she saved him. it was her saying she doesn't know why she did it– which, again, i don't blame her for; i understand how she feels there, sometimes your gut tells you to do something, and you just do it– that triggered his paranoia, made him fear that if she doesn't know why she saved him then she could easily betray him again. her breaking his trust made it difficult for him to trust her again, even after she saved his life. the moment he realized what he had done, he started crying and regretted it. yes, he was also laughing, but that's not because he found it entertaining that he had [supposedly] killed his friend.

and, yeah, a lot of simon fans have a chance of being racist and/or misogynistic, that's one thing you got right. and i understand the sentiment of saying she did nothing wrong to combat the bigotry towards her; the only problem is she has done wrong, just as much as simon. she's not perfect, either. acting like she's done nothing wrong completely undermines her growth and development.

moving onto my next point, it does bother me a lot that you said she knew simon would have no problem killing a six year old because that's just... not true. simon never showed malicious intent toward hazel, neither before nor after he learns she's a denizen. grace believed simon would kill hazel because, after he killed tuba (which was initially an order from grace, btw) and she discovered hazel is a denizen, hazel was afraid she was next– which makes sense in the mind of this kid who just lost her parental figure and knows simon's distaste towards denizens. simon values grace's opinions, if she had just sat him down and explained things to him before the point where he started harboring resentment towards her (that is, episode 5 and earlier) then he likely would have listened. would he have a difficult time understanding and accepting it? yes. but he wouldn't have killed hazel. he would try to understand because grace mattered that much to him.

obviously she isn't to blame for [most of] simon's harmful actions, but she was one of the most influential figures in his life and quite literally shaped many of his beliefs and world views, along with samantha. she is not responsible for his actions, but it's important to acknowledge her role in all this, since she had a pretty big one.

also, i'm sorry, but him expecting her to owe him everything– since i assume you mean the line in episode 10, where he said that to grace– was a direct parallel to the first episode of book one where grace saved simon from when his harpoon pack broke. he said he owes her one, and she responded with something along the lines of, "you owe me everything." simon expects her to tell him how to behave because she is not only the leader the the apex, but also because he is quite literally dependant on her; she's the only person his age who he can confide in, since there is absolutely no one else their age around them, they are surrounded by kids several years younger than them.

OKAY. now to the ableism discussion. remember when i said i would try to keep this brief? yeah. apparently there wasn't much i could do to make it brief.

while the canonicity of simon's NPD is semi-subjective (i say "semi" because... it was observably written and coded into his character), the clinical narcissist tweets made by lindsay still massively impacted how the fanbase perceives him and that is undoable. also, it's funny that you say "an ignorant part of the crew" when the whole crew has a massive history of ableism; the fact that they got called out and deleting their tweets does not mean that they took it back and changed for the better. it is not a stretch to say the season was ableist for killing him because it quite literally was.

a while back, a friend of mine had called out lindsay's ableism and owen, you know, the creator of infinity train, blocked them for it. then owen proceeded to delete some tweets where he said things about how sociopaths are incapable of change and he wanted simon to be one of those types of characters in order to show that not everyone on the train is good. owen is literally ableist. the "ignorant parts" of the crew is the whole crew. no one took any statements back, they just tried to sweep everything under the rug. owen saying he wanted to make simon like this and then him dying due to his incapability to change is quite literally proof that ableism was written into his character.

and just one question to you. do you have NPD? like, really, do you? because if you don't, it's awfully strange that you're trying to argue that it's not ableism.

and, finally, yes. people do know that. i know that. i like many villains without justifying their actions. do people know that others are allowed to defend the characters they like who are widely hated and misunderstood by the fandom??? i also had fun watching simon be a bastard, but AS SOMEONE WITH NPD, it fucking irks me how you guys treat him. so sorry that i don't tolerate ableism directed towards my very stigmatized disorder! lmao.

[shirophantomvox]

Analyzing Killua Zoldyck's Character

Illumi Analysis| Hisoka Analysis| Chrollo Anaysis|

What’s up y’all?! I’ve had at least 2 cups of coffee this morning and I am ready to write my butt off! This post will be about Killua Zoldyck, my second favorite character and you will know why by the end. If you’d like me to write about your favorite character, Be sure to send me a message and I will get on it ASAP.

Here we go!

I saw Killua for the first time on Tumblr. Someone created various icons for several anime characters and edited them. They were all aesthetically pleasing but for some reason, his picture stood out. Now that I look harder, it is because he was holding a Pepsi can instead of the off-brand one they drew for him in the cartoon. I noticed everyone on TikTok and Twitter had the very same icon as their profile picture (usually those that like to troll and say racist things to others). Once I started watching Hunter x Hunter, I realized the character immediately. Thank you for your edits!

Killua Zoldyck is the youngest child in the family and is the only child that developed a mind for his own.

Instead of taking the pleasure of killing, he runs/avoids and achieves this by becoming friends with Gon. It’s interesting to think that no one in the Zoldyck family wants to kill for fun except for Illumi.

I remember Zeno telling Chrollo: “Do you think I enjoy killing?”.

This makes me think that the family’s job is to destroy enemies that are a threat to society. Are the Zoldyck’s taking on the role of cops or an extension of such? If that statement is true why does Illumi take pleasure in abusing his power when his own grandfather only does it when criminals are involved? Granted, Silva and Zeno’s reasoning for brutally fighting criminals isn’t legal, and (to me) are considered to be vigilantes, at least they don’t go around doing the horrible things like how Illumi and Hisoka do.

This very reason why Killua ran away from home. He decided to rebel against his mother and implied: “Fuck you. I’m going to do what I want.” Killua and his siblings are victims of child abuse and show that they deal with that abuse in different ways. Killua masks his abilities in public and tries to keep them under control, Kalluto seems to be very quiet and obedient, Milluki is just as abusive as Illumi, and we already know about Illumi. Milluki is physically abusive; this can be seen when he is whipping Killua for running away and threatens to destroy Gon, Kurapika, and Leorio while Illumi plays mind games on Killua and uses his Nen to do the trick.

Killua’s character is very special and in a way takes the lead as the main character instead of Gon. I don’t know if that was intentional or not. Killua is a 12-year-old boy who leaves home to escape his abusive home and see the world for his own. During phase 1 of Hunter’s Exam, he instantly clicks with Gon; probably because he’s the only 12-year-old there. They constantly challenge each other to see who will win and who will buy dinner or some other reward. Because of his abusive home, Killua often masks his feelings. This is noticeable every time Gon talks about him being his best friend and he always reacts as if he’s embarrassed by it.

Gon is his shield from going bat-shit crazy like his family. They both have faced opponents (like Hisoka and others) where Killua could have unleashed his assassin abilities but didn’t. Yes, some of the opponents are stronger than him, but it wouldn’t hurt to try.

Killua is the best friend Gon could ever have. Since he knows about aura and any supernatural abilities, this is why he stops Gon and even insults him for pushing himself too far. Killua stopped Gon from using too much aura in the past especially once Kite’s arm was cut off by Pitou. Because Killua wasn’t there to stop him when fighting Pitou, this resulted in Gon’s downfall. Did Killua believe it was his fault that Gon almost died? He isn’t responsible for Gon’s actions but he focused so much on running away from his “demons” and masking his temper by maintaining his friendship that he wasn’t paying attention to Gon’s noticeable and developing temper.

Killua Zoldyck is a child that suffered from abuse and to escape that reality, he runs away, takes Hunter’s Exam only to match with his brother, chooses defeat, and then kills an opponent, not of his own free will.

But wait, there’s more.

After being rescued from his prison of a home, he goes to Heaven’s Arena, met Zushi and his teacher, develop Nen, follows the Phantom Troupe around and somehow managed to survive that, meet Bisky, join a game to get closer to Ging, witnesses Gon disappearing, trying to form a relationship with Alluka, and then tries to heal Gon with a quickness.

Whew, chile!

At the beginning of the show, it appeared as if Killua was taking on too much and only did so to keep his mind off what he escaped from.

One thing to point out is Killua’s motivation to heal Gon no matter what. It is implied that he doesn’t care what will happen to him or anyone else as long as Gon can live again.

Wait.

Isn’t that along the lines of what Gon said about getting revenge for Kite? He didn’t care about what happened to him? Hmmmm. I guess they’re very similar after all!

Killua and Gon are BFFs and will do anything for each other. Friendships in real life should be this way; let’s follow his fictional example.

Face

Killua’s face is the typical shape for someone his age. His eyes are wide, as blue as the morning sky, and honestly, I wish he’d smile more. Even though he is 12 years old, he still has a babyface.

Hair

Killua’s hair color is very similar to Princess Allura’s and Lotor’s. According to verywellmind.com, the color white represents innocence and purity. Ironically, Lotor and Killua are the opposite of that while Allura has maintained her innocence. Killua’s unique hair color and hairstyle are amazing! I love how it stays in shape while he is fighting or running.

Clothes

Regarding clothes, he is JUST like his brother. Again, Illumi irks me, but they both have a great taste in fashion. Through the show, Killua changes his clothes more than Gon, which is funny. I guess if Gon changed his clothes too much it would take away from his character. Killua’s default style contains a sleeveless white shirt with a purple one underneath, basketball shorts, and gym shoes. Just look at these outfit changes! This is why Killua is my 2nd favorite character in this show.

Behavior

As stated before, Killua cares more about others. This is ironic because the Zoldyck family only cares about themselves or their family while Killua feels the complete opposite. It’s almost as if he trusts strangers more than his own family. A common phrase: “She/He turned to the streets” that I’ve heard in my hometown can be applied here. Killua probably hates his family and turned to strangers to find love and comfort since they neglected that. He is also the only one that tries to develop a relationship with Alluka. At first, I thought “Wow he’s only developing a relationship with her to heal Gon” but then I realized it was bigger than that. Alluka has been separated from her family because of her dangerous abilities. She will demand something and if that person doesn’t fulfill her demands, they will suffer horribly. Killua learns that Alluka has a healing ability and while Illumi complains that Killua was hiding rules from him, he never took the chance to talk to him about it and continued to threaten Alluka. The family “banished” her to a confined room for who knows how long because, apparently, she had been possessed by a demon from the Dark Continent and they do not know when it happened. Despite knowing that Killua could parish with the rest, he still develops a relationship with her. He is the true example of excepting someone for who they are. As far as I’m concerned, running away was the best decision he made. It saved his life and in return, he’s going to save another. I do find it ironic that something considered to be so dark has the power to bring something back to life when usually it’s something bright like a light...interesting. You all know what I’m saying. Most television shows only portray angles to heal others while demons only seek to destroy. The Zoldyck family is wrong for pushing Alluka away. How could you do that to your own kid? Shit, you should be blaming yourself for not watching her and allowing the demon to posses her.

In conclusion, Killua is my second favorite character. He is bold, loves his friends, and isn’t afraid (anymore) to step up to people he may not win against. His character has blossomed from a young boy afraid to step up to his brother to a boy who isn’t afraid to do so. He has learned about Nen and has gone through many trials and tribulations just to say he is much stronger than before. What characters would you like to hear about next? Send me a DM!

Fin.

[rubysunnday]

Hug

A/N: Here is the second piece of writing for Tuactober 2020! 

Tuactober 2020 Day 10: Hug

Prompts by @totallyevan​

The Hargreeves siblings weren’t really an affectionate family. Their father never gave them any affection - that came solely from their robot mother so it didn’t, really, count - and they as sibling had never been close enough to hug one another.

But after being separated and stranded in the 1960′s, things changed. 

People changed.

Y/N Hargreeves was considered the baby of the group - despite being the same age as her other siblings - and her other siblings were very protective of her.

But now she was three years older than the rest of them, bar Klaus who was older than her by two months, and their relationship had shifted. 

Everyone was suddenly showing their emotions more and showing how much they truly cared for one another. 

Y/N first noticed the shift when she found Allison, completely by accident. 

She’d been walking down the street of South Dallas, heading back to the apartment she was sharing with some friends, when she passed a beauty parlour. 

Y/N wasn’t sure why she looked in through the window. Naturally curious, she guessed. But one look had her halting in the middle of the street. 

“It can’t be,” Y/N muttered, staring at the woman the other side of the glass. 

She pushed open the door to the parlour and instantly the room fell silent. The black woman who worked there all looked up at her, ready to defend themselves against yet another racist person in the city.

Y/N stared at Allison as she hung the broom back on a hook on the wall. “Allison?”

Allison whirled around, newly dyed and straightened hair bouncing slightly as she did so. She stared at her sister, eyes wide. 

“Y/N?” Allison asked, gaping.

Y/N giggled and stepped forward as Allison practically ran at her, the two meeting in the middle of the room in a hug. Y/N clung to her sister tightly, standing on her tip toes slightly (Allison had always been taller) and buried her face in Allison’s hair.

Allison clung onto Y/N, taking in her sister’s perfume, the feeling of her hair and the fact she was alive and in front of her.

“I thought you were dead,” Allison said, stepping back and putting a hand on Y/N’s shoulder.

“Same here, I thought I was the only one left,” Y/N replied, tucking her hair behind her ear. Suddenly aware of the numerous women staring at them as if they were insane, Y/N gave them a meek wave. “Oh, hi.”

Allison looked up at smiled slightly awkwardly. “Ah, this is my... adopted sister, Y/N. We haven’t seen each other in...”

“A while,” Y/N finished, nodding. 

“We’ll be in the back,” Allison added, grabbing Y/N’s hand and dragging her out to the back of the parlour.

Allison shut the back door behind her and turned back to face Y/N. “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

Y/N smiled slightly. “Yeah... when did you get here?”

“1961,” Allison replied, sighing. “It’s been... a long time. What about you?”

“April, 1960,” Y/N said. Allison raised a shocked eyebrow at her and she shrugged, rocking back on the heels of her shoes.  “Guess I’m older than you now.”

Allison chuckled softly and brought Y/N in for another hug. Y/N didn’t complain, hugging her sister back tightly and breathing in the smell of her perfume and hairspray. 

The next sibling Y/N hugged was Klaus. 

And she wasn’t in the least bit surprised to find he’d started a cult. 

Because what else was Klaus supposed to do when he got stranded in the 1960′s?

Allison had given her the address of his mansion - said mansion wasn’t, technically, his but Y/N chose to overlook that bit of the story - and Y/N had driven her car out to it.

She sighed despairingly, shaking her head as she turned the engine off and stepped out of the car. Knowing Klaus, it was unlikely that he’d answer the doorbell so Y/N, with the lock picking skills she certainly did not have, broke into the mansion, shutting the front door behind her as quietly as she could.

There were white sheets covering almost everything inside - presumably this was to protect the furniture whilst Klaus had travelled the globe with his cult - and there were several rather... unflattering paintings of Klaus looking as religious as you could get when you ran a cult.

“Klaus?” Y/N called out, stepping around a pile of boxes on the floor. “You here?”

There was a loud bang followed by a curse and Y/N smiled to herself, recognising Klaus’ voice. 

Her brother emerged into the hallway, long hair tousled and shirt crumpled, and stared at her, his eyes wide.

“Y/N?” He asked, dropping his flask onto the floor in surprise. “Oh my god, you're alive?!” 

Y/ N laughed and ran up to Klaus, jumping up to hug him. Klaus lifted her off her feet and spun her around in a circle, clinging onto her tightly. 

“Hi,” Y/N giggled, resting her chin on her brothers shoulder. Her face was beginning to hurt from smiling.

“Hey, Y/N/N,” Klaus said, setting her down and pressing a kiss to her head. “You look stunning, little sister.”

Y/N’s smiled grew even more as she straightened her jumper. “Thank you. I like the hair,” she said, nodding to Klaus’ long locks.

“Oh,” Klaus said, tucking a piece behind his ear and trying not to look to touched by the compliment. “Thank you.”

Y/N shook her head and launched herself at him again, hugging him once more. He smelt different to the last time she’d hugged him. Less tobacco and weed and more... well, more Klaus.

“I missed you too,” Klaus said softly, kissing her head once more.

Vanya was the next sibling Y/N got a hug from. 

Y/N had stepped into the electronics store and looked up at the balcony and immediately spotted her sister. Her heart had stopped for a second as Vanya smiled at her and Allison.

“I can’t believe I’ve got two sisters!” Vanya exclaimed, smiling as she walked down the stairs.

Y/N nodded slowly as Vanya approached them, standing in front of them awkwardly. It took the three of them a few seconds of staring at one another before it all clicked into place.

Allison opened her arms and Vanya came forward into the hug, pulling Y/N in with her. Y/N smiled to herself as she became sandwiched between Allison and Vanya. She rested her head on Allison’s shoulder, still smiling.

“Oh, god,” Y/N moaned as Klaus suddenly appeared behind her, latching onto her and Vanya.

“Hi,” Vanya said, her voice muffled by the three of them.

Y/N burst out laughing as she let go slightly, still holding onto Vanya.

“Hi, Vanny,” Klaus said, kissing her head as he let go. 

Y/N, taking advantage of Klaus stepping away, hugged Vanya once more, clinging onto her sister. “I missed you,” she whispered.

“Thank god someone did,” Vanya replied, hugging her back just as tightly. 

When they were younger, Y/N and Diego struggled to get along. They didn’t hate each other, they were just polar opposites and struggled to find something in common.

Not to mention the fact Diego was really annoying as a brother.

Y/N had been making herself a cup of tea in Elliot’s kitchen, minding her own business. It’d just been her and Diego - everyone else had disappeared off to deal with their lives - and they’d stayed there to wait for Five. 

She walked back from the kitchen and set her mug of tea down on the table and sat down on the sofa opposite Diego.

Neither sibling said anything for a while, both content with their own company. 

Y/N looked up at Diego and sighed to herself. “Diego... I... I missed you,” she said quietly, looking directly at her cup of tea in the hopes it would somehow make the conversation easier. 

Diego stared at Y/N in surprise. He smiled slightly and leant forward. “I missed you too, Y/N.”

Y/N looked up from the tea and looked at Diego. Diego smiled at her and Y/N suddenly felt her eyes burn. “No, don’t give me those eyes, Diego, I’ll start crying,” she warned, shaking her head.

Diego scoffed and stood up. He sat down next to her and put an arm around her shoulders, bringing her into his side. “Oh, shut up,” he said, leaning down and kissing her head softly. 

Y/N sniffed and wrapped an arm around Diego’s middle, holding onto him tightly as he returned the hug. 

Before now, Y/N had only hugged Diego three times before. The first time was when they’d gotten their tattoos, the second had been when Ben had died and the third was when she and Klaus had ‘saved’ him from the giant piece of ceiling that almost killed him.

But this hug was different. It was a genuine one. A hug that was wanted from both parties and was, more importantly, needed by both of them.

Diego would never admit this to his sister, but even though he’d only been in Dallas for a few months, he’d missed her the most. 

He just hoped the hug was saying what he wanted to because god knew how he’d be able to get the words out without stuttering. 

/

Five had disappeared before Y/N had really gotten a chance to properly form a bond with him. They’d known each other for years  and had grown up together but they’d never really... spoken. 

Obviously they'd sneak out to Griddy’s occasionally and Y/N would help Five with his equations, but they’d never really gotten to bond with one another because one day he’d been there, the next he’d gone. 

Y/N knew that Five had been through hell. Out of all of them he’d been through the most. 

But even though it was Five’s fault they were in 1960 Dallas in the first place, it’d been Five she’d been worried about the most. And Five she’d wanted to suddenly find the most.

Because Five always had a plan. And always made things better.

“Hey, Five,” Y/N said suddenly.

They were sitting in a diner, waiting for Vanya. Five had a giant pot of coffee in front of him and Y/N had a fairly large cup of tea and a plate of waffles.

Five raised an eyebrow and looked at her. “Yeah?”

Y/N give him a small smile. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said, unsure of what else to say. “I missed you.”

Five returned her smile, only this smile was a true one, not a forced one. “I’m glad you’re here too, sis.”

Out of all her siblings, Luther was the one Y/N had never really been close to. They were polar opposites and she’d often been kept apart from her father’s precious ‘Number One’. 

So, it was no surprise that Y/N had never hugged Luther. In all her years of knowing him, not once had they hugged or shared a sibling moment.

Because their relationship just wasn’t like that. 

But here they were, being shot at by what felt like the entirety of the commission. 

Luther had as arms around Y/N, Allison and Klaus, shielding all three of them from the storm of bullets flying around them. Y/N didn’t register it at the time, but she was holding on to Luther; holding onto him in the hopes he’d protect her.

And then the bullets stopped. 

And then Y/N suddenly found herself been thrown through the air, into the farmhouse. 

She hit the wall of the house with a significant amount of force, splintering the wood. Y/N hit her head on the window frame and fell down into the snow, dazed, confused, and on the verge of passing out.

Y/N closed her eyes for what felt like a few seconds but, judging from how much the house around her had change, was more like a few minutes. 

“Y/N!”

Y/N groaned softly, rolling onto her side as Luther ran over to her. “Oh, hey Luther,” she mumbled, clumsily sitting up and practically falling into her brother. 

Luther caught her and grabbed her shoulders, his eyes frantically checking her over. “Are you alright?”

Y/N nodded, patting his shoulder. “Yeah, yeah, I will be,” she muttered, rubbing the back of her head. 

Luther sighed and pulled her in against him, holding Y/N tightly against him. Y/N froze, eyes growing slightly wider as Luther hugged her. 

Luther was hugging her.

Y/N slowly returned the hug, wrapping her arms around Luther and resting her head on his shoulder. 

Luther’s hugs were the best ones, she decided. 

“What’s wrong, Klaus?” Y/N asked, frowning at him as he stared at her as if he’d never seen her before.

“Nothing,” Klaus said, still staring at her. “Just... can I have a hug?”

Y/N frowned even more but, now used to her brothers sometimes weird requests, stepped forward and hugged him.

Klaus hugged her back tightly, resting his head on top of hers. Y/N chuckled softly, but didn’t complain about the hug.

Ben, who was currently in possession of Klaus, sighed sadly as he hugged his sister for the first time in 17 years. He kissed her head as he let go and smiled at her. 

“I love you, sis,” he said, meaning it even though it was Klaus who said it. 

Y/N smiled back at him. “I love you too. 

[lilisouless]

hmm you seem to dislike Eric Heisserer just based off some comments and i actually want to know more about this if that's good with you.

Is not him personally, but as the showrunner, pretty much anything that goes wrong in the show is on him.

1-The brownface stuntdouble incident, because wth was that?

2-Alina being half shu was something that Leigh and Eric decided together and i was so exited for it. I am going to not try and sound like an asshole , i don't think anyone at all deserves to be a victim of racism but i think Alina being an outsider in the camp because she was half shu was more interesting and sympathetic that the book canon, where she was an outsider for "not being pretty" (which we only have her word for it, so it´s clearly just low self steem) and somehow, literally every woman in her camp is a bitch but her (i am not lying, thats the reason Alina doesn't have friends aside from Mal in the book) But anyway, it was a great change to show how people in the grishaverse used the war as an excuse to be racist (a very common and real thing in life) Alina having "the face of the enemy" and how it differs with Mal´s situation (with this i am not completely sure on how would it be, i assume Mal´s casting was colorblind since Kit Young auditioned for the role). Mal , if he shares Archie´s exact ancestry, is a quarter Suli, which makes him diferent from Alina since Ravka is not in conflict with the Suli (in fact, acording to Inej, the grisha are the ones who are not nice to the suli). So Mal, would have a diferent treatment, but still be an outsider.

All this sounds like an good thing to explore, to make Alina more sympathetic, more mature, someone who understands the downsides of the grisha army and thats why she sympatizes with anyone. But Alina being shu is PURELY reduced to a mean spirited comments, zoya´s infamous scene (and completely uncalled for) , there are some good things that come fron it (her friendship with Genya is stronger in the show with Genya asuring her that won´t change her eyes , despite what the maids just said ,which also brings how Alina doesn't want to change herself to fit in). All the potential, pretty gets pretty much wasted.

3-Zoya, everything that has to do with Zoya, you can tell he hated her. I won't elaborate, i have talked a lot about her before.

I am just going to say that i am suspicious about a man who makes a male character sleeping with the girl he raised, and inviting the audience to sympatize with HIM and slutshaming the girl.

4-I am not comfortable on how he talked about Jesper´s sexuality , but that may just be my shipper bias so i will refrain myself from commenting on that one.

Is too early to talk about Inej , Jesper (develoment wise) and Nina (dam, Matthias is really the only crow that i have no complains about) , there are things i am not liking, but i will wait until season 2 until i decide if Eric screwed them up too, i´ll give it the benefit of the doubt.

Other than the bronwace incident (seriously, what was he thinking?) i actually think all of the things above can be fixed , i don't think all of this characters are a complete waste. Alina´s thing CAN still be adressed on season 2, now that we are having Tolya and Tamar (this time he is not allowed to screw it up) and Zoya , as she and Alina ended up in good terms on the show/Alina doesn't hate her like in the book, actually has the potential to be handled better than how she was used in book 2 , but that requires actually caring about the character, and in Zoya´s case, i doubt it.

In short, he hasn't made a mistake i think he can't fix BUT that won't happen if it´s not pointed out the things that did came wrong.

[dyketubbo]

mkay. ive woken up, it doesnt seem like theres any new developments, so. post explaining what the hells been going on about the ae/emeraldduo qpr discourse ig woo. this is going to be from my perspective, because i am one person. shocker. anyways,

basic summary: i made a post saying that because c!kristin is canon and philza and techno have boundaries against shipping, i believed that maybe there should be a genuine effort to chill out with putting c!philza and c!technoblade in a qpr or platonic marriage, as c!philza being married to c!kristin is based off the irl marriage and c!philza and c!technos friend dynamic is based off the ccs dynamic even outside of the dream smp (such as, of course, the antarctic empire being a smpearth thing). i also said this because i feel like theres a genuine problem in the fandom with how it treats kristin, not only in fanart (making her skinny and white), but also just. in general, overshadowing her with the idea of emeraldduo being married, shit like that, and it irked me esp bc shes a woc while philza and techno are white men.

people get pissed at me, both to my face and behind my back, and i get insulted, called stupid, arophobic, anti-polyam, told i dont understand friendship and that i dont have friends. i joined a server just to wake up and find myself banned and blocked with no explanation, left to assume that i was talked about behind my back while i was unable to defend myself. out of all the people who disagreed with me, one person. one. person. was nice to me and didnt call me arophobic, actually giving me constructive criticism and a chance to elaborate. one. i finally start to feel better two days after the fact, consulting people outside the fandom to get second opinions and getting happy when people agreed with me and even gave insight to things i didnt consider, and what do i get?

someone rbed to tell me "not to go on twitter" because people were talking about me, and informing me that there was a group chat dedicated to "talking about how wrong [i am]". what the rest of the post said, i dont remember, because the person seems to have me blocked and i fucking panicked after being told theres literally an entire group of people talking about me on twitter- of which, yknow. is known for harassing people and even once had a black girl doxxed?? not to mention that the person who mocked me for supposedly not having friends did so when i said to leave me alone, and ive said publicly for people to leave me alone consistently, and. well, insulting and going after someone, or even talking about them behind their back, when they said to leave them alone is in fact harassment, by definition.

im accused of not listening to philza, with the only clip being given to me of him talking about c!emeraldduo being like "the platonic version of achilles and patroclus", as if platonic = queerplatonic. yesterday was the first time i was given a clip of phil talking about qprs specifically, given to me by someone who didnt evem disagree with me anyways, again showing the people disagreeing with me were barely actually willing to cooperate with me. i have. complicated feelings on the clip (mainly with how its worded as just headcanons and only given the definition of "platonic life partners" which.. hm.), but this post isnt about that.

regardless, i vent to my friends, because i was having a delusional breakdown, and one makes a post saying they didnt want to interact with the fandom after people went after me. they inform me that both people who insulted me before and others reblogged from their post to again assert that im arophobic, claim that no one was talking about me outside of people publicly talking about how "arophobic" i am (which.. is people talking about me), claim that i called people racist and sexist (i didnt?? i dont think anyones racist and sexist, not even for what i brought up concerning the fandoms treatment of kristin, it gives me a bad taste in my mouth, but i would never call anyone racist or sexist for it [outside of the whitewashing but thats a different issue from the qpr discussion]), and then they were sent anon hate, one even asserting that they were arophobic and talking over minority groups and therefore deserved to be in their bad home situation. outside of their post being in the dream smp tag, its hard to believe that people just. normally found their post. unless they were going through the recent posts in the dream smp tag (which i dont feel is the case), it is.. concerning that they found my friend trying to defend me so quickly and immediately decided to continue to talk about me behind my back and even insult them as well.

so.. yknow, not great in asserting that there arent people tracking me somehow, which is incredibly triggering and paranoia inducing.

either way, in the end, if people disagree with me about the situation, i dont care, i cant stop them, but i just want people to stop being fucking pricks about it. i want people to stop being pissy at me and about me, i want people to stop insulting me and telling me and telling people i interact with that im arophobic when im not. i want people to stop pretending to care when they tell me to take a break when theyre the fucking reasons i have to take a break. i want people to stop being condescending to me, to stop talking about me, to stop acting like theyre superior while fucking insulting me.

i just wanted to bring up an issue about the lack of respect kristin gets, and people as always turned it into something about philza and technoblades relationship when that was literally the behavior that i was complaining about. i hate that me wanting to talk about how kristin and her marriage to phil is treated turned into me having several breakdowns in one day because i kept getting worse and worse news about how people were treating me. i hate that i did take breaks, that i actively distracted myself, went outside, took care of my pets, took care of myself, talked to my friends, and yet people just acted condescending and went all "if you cant handle criticism then leave :/".

what the fuck is wrong with you people? why is it that this fandom actively defaults to harassment and using ccs against fans when an issue arises? and i fucking hate that this is my first goddamn actual interaction with aeduo fans. im genuinely terrified of aeduo fans now if this is how they react to problems. fuck everyone who talked about me behind my back, fuck everyone who acted condescending towards me, fuck everyone who called me arophobic or anti-polyam or whatever the hell they had up their sleeves, fuck every single grown ass adult who saw a teenager have a fucking breakdown over the shit they did and said and decided to continue. fuck everyone who didnt even bother to have a goddamn level conversation with me before insulting me and attempting to tell others that im arophobic and other shit like that.

this shit happened because of two paragraphs. i said two goddamn paragraphs about a personal issue with the fandom i had and now ive genuinely been pushed almost to the point of relapsing. i dont give a shit if people think i have a victim complex, i just want people to leave. me. alone. its the fucking least you could do. oh, and go fuck yourself. if you genuinely thought id be apologizing after that shit, fuck you. i shouldnt have to be the better person with this shit, i shouldnt be pushed to choking on my own fucking tears because people wont let it fucking be. im not goddamn apologizing after three days of getting insulted and harassed and talked about behind my back for a fucking shipping issue. piss off.

[zhuhongs]

Okayyyy besties, so I’m gonna elaborate on the tags of this post now lmao. Also this obvious but like dont rb

SO when I was in high school i had many issues lmao and the notable one's for this story was that i was passive aggressive to a fault and could rarely if ever call ppl out on their bullshit even if it was egregious (i'm better now <3). AND SECOND that i grew up watching anime and made Being A Girl That Liked Anime my personality. SO loser dudes flocked to me bc i was a mostly conventionally attractive but still obviously “not like other girls” weird girl that liked the same anime. And in most cases I knew more than them about anime which they thoguht was cool and also felt threatened bc i was a girl. SO yea needless to say high school was insufferable for me but like, it was mostly my own design bc i had a weird relationship with wanting attention from guys even though i absolutely loathed most of the guys that liked me. Bc they were Rich White Guys That Liked Anime and said slurs and just sucked in general.

But there was one of these men in particular that was such a completely insufferable incel that somehow ended up being apart of my friend group bc we felt bad for him and he seemed like we could make him into a good person. Me and my friends ofc were wrong. SO I spent 3 years of high school being hit on by this guy to no end but bc he was a wimp he would never say it and endlessly drop hints and I knew but he was a bad person so i just evaded. Until senior year he became so bad about it I just Had to Do Something.

So this dude (his name is rhys.. I'm just gonna use his name it doesnt matter) was complaining about how he was lonely and said somevery misogynist and racist things about his ex and I was about to kill him until he said he caved and made a tinder bc he just turned 18 and I hatched a plan. I was gonna catfish him and teach him a lesson in a roundabout and safe way bc i was terrified of conflict. And then I did!!

I took some pictures of myself in a wig that werent very convincing at all and tbh I'm 90 percent sure we had seen that wig on me before but he probably forgot lol. And edited it and wrote a bio that was 100 percent guaranteed to get a swipe from him and worked my magic. It was so funny, esp bc one of my friends who thought it was mean tried to tell him it looked like me and he was like "what!! No they're completely different" ☠☠☠ I was just acting like one of those girls who want to be an anime character and are insufferable and he ate it UP and then after 2 weeks I told him I was a catfish and blocked him and he LOST IT!! He was telling me he was abt to get a plane ticket to his old state and just pack it up he was so upset. He told everyone abt this girl and I saw the whole thing and my friends were all in on it. And to this day he doesnt know it was me. He still messages me sometimes and *#*%&^*$*@ it's so funny. But yea... that's how I got revenge on my bigoted incel irl from high school ♡

And screenshots for fun and me time ♡

My catfishsona and said white guy lmao

Him liveblogging their flirting to me and my friends. There was a lot more but it's so cringe.. I hate this man.. I rlly do. Also the bad crop on one is to show that hed literally lb their flirting while on the next tab I was using tinder to fuck with him... he never ONCE put 2 and 2 together.. embarassing ♡♡

And the reveal!!

LMAOOO... and that's the lore ♡

[captlok]

Pacifism Isn’t A Character Trait

Or: MLK Day is Upon Us so Let Me Do You a Learn

Or: As An Aang Stan I Got a Bit Over-Zealous But Lemme Explain Why For A Hot Minute

Plus some History and Tumblr commentary that even non-ATLA fans can chew on

And by ‘hot minute’ I do mean this is going to be a long meta, so strap in.  For those of you who just might be tuning into this debacle, I, a person who has not used Tumblr, much at all, except for the last half year, ran into some trouble. 

If you wanna skip the whole TLDNR interpersonal stuffs and get straight to Why Aang is the Best Thing Since Sliced Bread, I will embolden the relevant parts, and italicize the crit of Korra, if you want that alongside.

I was excited that ATLA was seeing a resurgence due to the Netflix remake. I wasn’t even trying to apply any steep expectations for it. (learned not to do that the hard way with the last live action adaption, and to a much lesser extent, ATLOK, since it had good . . . elements, *ba dum tsshh*) 

So, these are a couple aspects of the issue: (1) Even on the internet, I am extremely introverted and until recently mostly came for content, not socializing. My main online interactions thus far have been in forums and artist-to-artist on DA. Tumblr is still very strange to me because it splits up its ‘threads’ so you can’t see all the replies if a certain pattern of users responds in their own space. I’m not even 100% sure it’s in chronological order, and replies are not nested next to each other so you can look in the comments and someone will be replying to something you can’t see in that window. And also since it is a bizarre hybrid of a blogging system, posts are somehow considered ‘owned by’ or an ‘extension of’ OP in a way forum threads are not. (2) ATLOK was good in a cinematic and musical way, to be sure. It also had some good concepts. I can go into it just appreciating it for the worldbuilding and be somewhat satisfied. But the execution was terrible. I was on AvatarSpirit.Net for years, and If I had maintained my presence on ASN to current day and had gotten around to downloading their archive now that the forum is dead, I would include some links to other peoples’ detailed analyses on just how flawed both the plotting and Korra’s frustratingly flat learning curve was especially in the first two seasons. But, that is a task for another day, and only if people are interested. 

No, what I’m addressing today, on the issue of Korra as a writing exercise, is how Mike and Bryan said specifically they wanted to make her ‘as opposite to Aang as possible’ and in so doing, muddied the central theme of the original ATLA series.

Now, again, I was mainly an art consumer for my first major round of ATLA fandom. Tumblr is an alien beast to me. But, after I write my first major Aang meta, talking about how amazing it is that he has the attitude he does, and how being content in the face of this overwhelming pain and suffering is an ONGOING PROCESS and an INTENTIONAL DECISION and not a simple PERSONALITY TRAIT, I start hearing that Aang gets a lot of hate from the fandom. Now this would be bad enough if it were merely people not liking his crowning moment of pacifism because they don’t understand the potential utility (I’ll elaborate on that in another post) or the ethics involved.

Aang is easily the most adult member of the Gaang. But he apparently gets hate for his few moments where he actually acts his age, a preteen, and maybe kisses a girl in a historical timeframe in which ‘consent’ discussions were probably nonexistent. Even in the present day, we are still practically drowned in movies that reinforce this kissing without asking trope. And even some female bodied people complain that asking kills the mood! But somehow he is responsible and reprehensible for this, even though the first time she kissed him back. I’m only going to get into the pacifism discussion today, but that was just another layer of annoyance bouncing around in the back of my head.  Other peoples’ crit of Korra that was stewing in my subconscious, plus this Aang bashing, which thankfully I had not directly read much of, made up the backdrop of gasoline for the match that set it off.  Even that seems a pretty melodramatic way to phrase what I actually said, which was: Aang, on the other hand, lost dozens of father figures and was being steamrolled by Ozai who was gloating about genocide TO HIS FACE, yet he still reigned in all that quote, ‘unbelievable rage and pain’ (The Southern Raiders). We Stan Aang, the Superior Avatar. No I did not f**king stutter. #AangSupremacy In another meta, someone complained that I was too defensive of Aang as a character and didn’t apply literary analysis enough, which I quickly rectified.

What set this off? Someone was kind of indirectly praising the line from Korra,  “When I get out of here, none of you will survive” To them it was emotionally resonant or whatever, and I have to point out that no, it was a martial artist not having control of their state of mind, as is the bedrock of the practice. It was never addressed by the narrative, which is a severe oversight.  I had a conversation with someone in the chats, making this distinction between Korra’s character traits and life philosophy. If she were to kill people while enraged and she was fine with that, that’s one thing. But if she regretted it, that’s a whole other kettle of fish. People argue that she comes from a warrior culture, unlike Aang.

Never mind that warrior monks are a thing. That’s what Shaolin monks are. You can be a pacifist and skilled at fighting. Those things are not mutually exclusive, which is the whole point of Bagua, Aang’s style.  And also, Katara’s style. 

That’s one reason I like Kataang so much- their congruent styles. Both of their real world martial arts are dedicated to pacifism, even though ATLA specifically doesn’t spell that out for Katara and her learning arc. 

There was a meta where someone briefly tried to argue that knowing “martial arts” is against pacifism. No. Quite the opposite. I’d argue that you are not a true pacifist unless you know exactly how to handle yourself if someone attacks you.  If you are not in a position to make conscious decisions about how much force to use, rather than merely operating on survival instincts, that is not pacifism. Or at least, not any energy or effort towards pacifism as a practical everyday tool.  I’ve made a few attempts to learn some tai chi and aikido, and it’s improved my physical and mental health, but some other things have gotten in the way. #lifegoals

I’m not going to tag the unfortunate soul whom I was replying to, because they’re probably tired of all this, but I’ll be sending them a PM to say that I’ve made this into a different post, because as I mentioned before, threads are somehow considered “owned” by OP, so it’s been pointed out to me that I should separate it.  I also said, I have basically ZERO respect for Korra uttering violent threats when the writers already minted a far more emotionally devastated and yet still resilient and centered character earlier in their franchise. People always try to excuse away people who genuinely like Aang more.  As if it’s just nostalgia or whatever. For me, no, it’s absolutely not. It is respect for a character who stands toe to toe with real people who are kind in the face of overwhelming injustice. (I have another meta on that). 

Both OP and people in the chats try to make excuses that she wasn’t raised as a pacifist, and that would be fine if they had addressed it with Tenzin and she had stated outright that she was rejecting pacifism and mind training. As it is, we are left with this nebulous affair where the lines between ideology and personality traits are blurred. 

We are told she “has trouble with spirituality” but what does that even mean? Does she have trouble with focus? Does she have trouble relating to the canonically real spirits? And pacifism specifically nor inner peace that it flows from is never even talked about as an extension of spirituality, which is canonically tied to airbending.

“Aang didn't have to deal once with the loss of his autonomy in atla” OP claims.

This was after I had noted that Aang was getting kicked around by Ozai and was most likely going to die.  Similarly, someone in the chat rejected the idea that a 12 year old trapped in a stone sphere that is heating up under a cyclone-sized blowtorch feels powerless. 

Sorry but that’s flat out ridiculous.

No one wants to admit that both of these people were faced with similar situations, and when push came to shove, one showed his LIFE PHILOSOPHY through conscious effort, and the other was abandoning the basis of martial arts, which is, no matter what the situation, keep thinking. Hold the panic at bay. Non-attachment would have served her well in this situation. Tenzin should have told her this. Before, or afterwards. It should have been addressed in the writing.  

People see this as “bashing” Korra, and oh well, can’t help that. If I think the writers didn’t follow through on their themes, that is my concern.  OP said I was “offended.” No, not really. 

I wasn’t offended by the post itself, or its commentary. Thought I made that pretty clear.

This is not dramatics. Let me be blunt.

As a ideological pacifist, and an actual practitioner of meditation, based on Buddhism, NOT just the fan of some show, I am for calling out writers who write one way from the survivor of genocide, and then stray from that ‘thoughtless aggression is immoral no matter HOW hurt I am’ to ‘let’s not address this character’s aggression in the narrative whatsoever.’ OP attempted to derail by accusing me of being racist or sexist against Korra. Also ridiculous. It honestly should have set me off more, but it didn’t. 

Meditation is about reigning in your emotions. Managing your anger when it gets out of hand, and digging down to the roots of it. Being responsible for your own behavoir. Acknowledging ownership of your own actions. Not blaming anything YOU DO on anyone else or any circumstances in your life. Like an adult, or should I say, an enlightened adult.

Or at the very least, that is the ideal ypu strive towards while being imperfect in the present.

. . .

Now.

I’m going to quote a passage in a Google Doc of mine, even though I’d really prefer if you asked to read the whole thing, with context.

“What do humans do when it is necessary to, or greed makes a nation want to recruit?

They go to the army to get trained, right?

Granted, having someone scream and get spittle on your face is, in the grand scheme of things, poor preparation for having bullets whiz past your chest and grenades shatter your ears. And, what do you do to prepare you for the pain of getting your leg blown off? Hopefully, nothing. Like taking a test where you only got half the study guide. But, it’s about the most ethical way to go about it, right?

Not everyone even sees action. So any more more extensive mental preparation for physical pain than that, and you’d have people definitely protesting.

Well, as it turns out, pacifistic protestors themselves, if they were in the right time and place, also very intentionally do this type of mind training. Except, when they did it, they actually did sit still and took turns roughly grabbing each other and throwing each other down and in some cases, even kicking and bruising each other.

Turns out, those pacifists are, in some ways, more hardcore than the army.

Why is this?

Because a pacifist’s aim, unlike a unit, who wants to gain the upper hand in a situation, is to grit their teeth and grind their way through all those survival instincts, and totally submit.

In this, they aim to get the sympathy of the public, who clearly sees they are not aggressive, or a danger, no matter how much the footage is manipulated or suppressed.

In this, they hope to appeal to their attacker’s better nature.

Make them stop and think, wait a second, are these people a threat like we’re told they are? I’m attacking someone who’s letting me beat them up. Or a bunch of people. All forming a line, and letting us peel them off. Or sitting, and bowing their heads. If I’m on the ‘right’ side of things, the law, why am I doing this?

It’s not like a bully, who’s just a kid.” They’re more self-aware.

And might I add the situation influences a pacifist’s actions too. There’s no reason to let a single or a few random attackers beat you up if you can evade or disable without permanent damage.

Pacifism is a dynamic set of responsive actions informed by values. Not a proscribed set or a checklist.

But in terms of organizing against state power, and recording wrongdoing, which unlike during the Civil Rights can happen from all angles from smart phones nowadays, these are the motivations.

“So, the pacifist knows this, and that’s why they go through all that trouble of training themselves to, not only submit, but not turn tail and run, either.”

See, a character trait is something like being a morning person, or ways of handing information, or a given set of emotions a character feels. Once you cross over into actions, you must make the distinction of whether an impulsive character agrees with their own uncontrolled actions, or is embarrassed or remorseful. Those are life philosophy. Now sure, one type of person or character may be more likely to subscribe to pacifism, but there is no gatekeeping on what you have to feel or how you look at things. You can be easygoing, or feel all the rage in the world, but as long as you at least attempt to have a handle on those desires and feelings to where they do not cross into actions, you are still doing the work of metacognition, which is what martial arts and its accompanying mind training are for.

It’s what we see Aang do.

He’s informed us, during the Southern Raiders, on how much rage and pain he feels.

Pain points, TRIGGERS, that were directly struck at when Ozai gloated over him.

He joins with all the past Avatars for several moments, and just like every other time he is in the Avatar State, he is enraged. He wants to exact revenge on the unrepentant grandson of a baby murderer.

We see it when he turns his head away, face still screwed up in anger.

For another example, I could cite my difficulties in being aware and reining in my tongue sometimes. I know the roots of these issues and I seek to let them go.

It’s just that process takes way longer than Guru Pathik would have us assume.

In fact, I would even say that Aang’s portrayal throughout the three seasons is not strictly a realistic representation of at least the sad side of grief. I addressed that a little when I talked about real life figures. But what it IS, is a metaphor that cuts very deep to the heart of pacifism. As I showed in that Doc . . . There is no limit of suffering a pacifist is willing to go through, internal or external, for the preservation of peace.

This was demonstrated during the Civil Rights, and with Gandhi and all his followers beforehand, inspiring them. The pacifists’ method of swaying hearts is probably the reason BLM exists in such numbers as it does today. Will the types of narratives that correspond with their full stories of the way they collectively planned and trained for and approached conflict make it into fantasy media? I’d say, probably not. For a host of reasons.

It could be hoped for, I guess.

But we DO have Aang.

As for myself, whether speaking sharply is an “action,” per se is up for debate- certainly it doesn’t seem to violate the non-aggression principle put forth by the vision of a “stateless society.”

For another example, let’s take my explanation at the beginning. I am examining how circumstances affected my actions, and now am attempting to fix it, if indeed it needs to be fixed. 

At least one person said that it not so much what I said, but how and when I said it. I don’t actually think I’ve said anything “wrong” per se. So I have to figure it out. 

[I’m considering splitting up this next part into a second post, as it only slightly relates to pacifism itself and is just kinda some more commentary on Tumblr itself- Tumblr discourse, as it were]

[I’ll put more brackets when I’m done in case you want to skip this part as well]

An interesting social difference between Tumblr and other places is this command you often get, “don’t chat/reblog/message me back.”

This is interesting for several reasons. For chats and reblogs, other people may be following the “conversation,” so it’s actually pretty rude and presumptuous to tell a person not to respond to whatever you said, because other people watching still may be interested in your take.

In a forum setting, if someone involved in a conversation doesn’t have anything left to say, usually they just don’t respond.

This method would work perfectly fine for Tumblr, but for some reason, maybe its super odd format, probably due to the “ownership”/“extension of self” I mentioned at the beginning of the essay, people don’t tend to do this.

Now, in comment sections, sometimes you’ll run across an amusing sort of “mutually assured destruction” where two people both say this to each other. You’d better stop responding. Omg just give up. Why are you still arguing. Etc.

But see, no matter where this behavoir pops up, and no matter who starts in on it, those who do this usually want to have the last say on the matter.

Instead of merely not replying, they want to assert verbal control over the conversation.

Tumblr, in its weirdness, is also sort of like a mutant comments section. You can post comment section threads as your own post.

Which is one reason why I’m puzzled when people say ‘don’t read the comment sections’ when Tumblr is so popular.

I’m an oddball in that I browse comment sections for fun.

Probably due to alexithymia, I didn’t really comprehend the emotional toll it takes on many people, so the warnings to “stay out of comment sections” read to me like “hey don’t eat that dessert.” After I’m done with the ‘meal’ of an article or art, I like to see what lots of different people have to say about it. The fluff. Anything vitriolic I either blip over, or extract anything useful, or if I judge the person is reasonable enough, I might engage.

Sometimes I mis-judge on how reasonable someone is, and I shrug and move on after being cussed out or whatever.

In this, I suppose I succeed much of the time in being a verbal pacifist.

[But let’s get back to the more serious stuff.]

We’re talking about what is done in life or death situations, here.

For myself, I may in the near future be working more with dangerously mentally ill people. I’ve had a little exposure to it through various means. Nurses are obligated not to retaliate against patients, and those who have, have been fired in some situations. Again oddly, this is not primarily what triggers my anxiety. Unfortunately enough, this requirement has also resulted in nurses getting seriously injured and violated. I hope to influence whether “no harm” techniques such as tai chi and aikido and arm locks may be allowed. The voluntary philosophy I was luckily already on board with is enforced by bureauacracy, directly relevant to my potential profession.

Were someone to get involved in a dangerous profession, such as a police officer, their moral duty would also be to own up to any spur of the moment anger or fear they acted on. 

It’s just that their bureaucracy acts differently, in excusing their actions.

Ideally, they would be taking steps far in advance, to avoid this often-cited fear of death reaction. As training pacifists like Aang do. 

And yes, army people are trained differently than police officers because the army, often, even when threatened, is supposed to avoid engagement or deploy deterrents that are non-lethal almost all costs, unless ordered otherwise. Whereas American police are given pretty much complete discretion and often not taught de-escalation techniques. Even police from other nations are better trained in that regard.

Enter the ironically named @avatarfandompolice whose account description should really speak for itself. Combative, dismissive, and their attention-hungry bread and butter is to find people they think it’s acceptable to ridicule.  They basically tried to say trauma was a valid excuse to take out your anger on other people, and in this situation, potentially kill. 

Now, does this hold up in the real world? Yeah, sometimes. Especially if some law breaker or law keeper has not been given the anger management tools, they perhaps could be excused, or better yet, rehabilitated.

But especially if anyone finds themselves in dangerous situations, or intends to put themselves in such, it falls to them to do this preparation.

As an aphant, I am at a bit of a disadvantage, compared to an average martial artist, being unable to visualize an attacker. But I still attempt it.

As the main “police officer” of the world- the coincidentally blue clad figurehead that is supposed to keep order, it is apparently fine for Korra to not do the work Aang did to keep level. To blow it off as too much trouble: clearing the First Chakra of fear. For herself or others. And its resultant anger. Had she had access to the Avatar State, the authority figure pretty much would have killed people.  This is what the “fandom police” and a certain chat goer ultimately support. Maybe they didn’t understand it that way, and since the second had blocked me, they will also never see this explanation. Unless I were to share it in Google Doc form I suppose.

So, I responded. “Remember kids, you are not responsible for your own behavior if you have the excuse that someone else did something bad to you.” A frighteningly common sentiment on this site.

When it’s low stakes like CAPSLOCKING or internet fights, that’s not such a big deal. But what happens if this attitude leaks into the real world? This isn’t even about Korra or Aang anymore, it’s about toxic mindsets. I didn’t know fans taking pro-Korra posts as anti-Aang was a common in the fandom. I’ll say again I’ve only just gotten really active on Tumblr like the past few months. This is about pacifism itself. MLK and his hardworking, training followers (yes some of them sixteen and POC and not super-powered like Korra) facing down firehoses and staging sit-ins long trained for would shake their heads at this defense of reactionism. 

Pacifism is not a Personality Trait.

It is deliberate actions and preparation taken over a period of time.

Then the “fandom police” tried more of this, and these two conversations ensued, the comments with another user resulting in the title and main thesis of this essay:

https://captlok.tumblr.com/post/638777472806273024/avatarfandompolice-response-to-my-independent

https://captlok.tumblr.com/post/638806142933467136/the-plight-was-not-what-i-was-getting-at-it-was

[bat-besties]

Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

Remus is the most eccentric customer who visits Janus and Virgil's café. When he goes missing after talking to a mysterious stranger, Janus resolves to investigate further- and Virgil isn't letting him go alone.

AO3 10k 

Huge thanks to @mariniacipher, I could not have written this without her. She let me talk about the idea for hours, it has somehow developed into a series, and the story itself took a real twist because of talking to her! Another massive thank you to @5-crofters-jams, who did a marathon edit of the entire piece for me, and has made the story so much smoother and more effective (and much less British because my original dialogue did upset her American sensibilities XD) Also thanks to @tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors, who knew everything I needed about pigeon corpses!

CW: dead bird, touching the bird corpse, bird funeral, Remus levels of comments about gore and innuendo, drug mention, mention of vomiting, kidnapping and captivity, feeling nauseous from anxiety, light dehumanization, brief allusion to racist violence

- 

Remus was...

(There was usually a little gesture there: Virgil’s rolled eyes, or Janus’ helplessly fond smile, or a disapproving look from Remy-)

....Remus.

Their anarchist cafe saw its fair share of unusual customers but only one of them was, well, Remus.

Morning sunlight threw beams which striped the posters covering the walls- old propaganda posters mixed with ads for tutors, food banks, and drag shows. There was a quiet chatter of customers, occasionally broken up by bursts of laughter or a called greeting to another patron as they came in. Kids from the skatepark sat on a pile of beanbags charging their phones, having given up the comfortable chairs for a small group of elderly butches with stretched tattoos who were now speaking with slang from fifty years ago. A mother whose baby was trying to grab onto her braids was trying to feed him with one hand and hold her husband’s with the other. A college student frowning at their laptop screen and consuming coffee at an alarming rate was seemingly oblivious to the punk trying to discreetly read their laptop stickers. One of a Pan-African flag matched the full-sized one on the wall, swaying with wafts of coffee and baked goods along with spider plants and assorted pride flags. Old photos of a Black Panther group in the town, reprinted and signed by some of their patrons, were framed proudly on the walls.

Since everyone had been served, Virgil was taking a few breaths to check over the register and prepare for the next rush. The rhythm of checking, preparing, and letting the background chatter fade into the background blended into a pleasant, thoughtless routine. Cups out. Setting out more sandwiches. Look over the register. Maybe get something from the back-

“Morning, shitwad!”

Virgil ducked under the counter as something thumped into the coffee machine behind him, and a few of the regulars laughed in good nature.

“Oh, good morning, darling,” Janus replied smoothly, appearing from the kitchen. He was wearing a yellow shirt which contrasted with his deep brown skin perfectly, as well as a bowler hat and dapper bow-tie. He pulled plastic gloves over his hands with all the elegance of a debutante preparing for a ball.

There was a shrill wolf whistle. “Those are some sexy wrists!” was the next comment, followed by a squawking laugh, and Virgil rolled his eyes as his friend brought a flustered hand up to adjust his collar. Every day, he faced the deep attraction between the most sophisticated person he knew and the most outlandish, and he didn’t know which was more obnoxious. As Virgil popped back up, Janus reached over to the projectile on the back counter. It was the small, feathery body of a dead pigeon, carefully wrapped in cling wrap.

Virgil gave Janus a long-suffering look and got out a bottle of disinfectant. “Morning, Remus,” he grumbled, despite his irritation. “What can I get for you today?”

“My friend died at 3am last night,” he replied instead. “I need to store her in your fridge until you both get off work, and then we’ll hold her funeral!”

When they were alive, Remus treated the pigeons as gently as they did each other-

That is to say, he was ruthlessly protective of chicks, ready to grab and move anyone encroaching on territory, and, if pecked, was fully ready to bite back. Still, at his two-tone whistle a whole flock of assorted birds would fly down to meet him. His eyes would shine bright as they flew around him like a feathered whirlwind, and settled on the surfaces all around him like a hopeful congregation as he fed them with whatever he had. Despite their number, almost all had names and ascribed personalities.

Exactly how he could tell the difference between two seemingly identical pigeons Virgil had no idea, and he wasn’t entirely sure that Remus wasn’t fucking with him about it.

“Why did you throw her if you’re trying to preserve her?” Virgil said, but he tried to keep the frustration out of his voice. In fairness, it didn’t look too damaged by the blow. It would take a lot to change the kindness Remus showed the doves, as roughly as he showed it.

“I thought you’d catch her, emo! It would have been a beautiful moment!” he protested, throwing his grey eyes open wide.

Virgil took a deep breath and nodded. “You know what? Yeah, maybe it would have been. But you forget-”

“Fight or flight,” Remus filled in. He shrugged. “I guess that makes sense.”

As usual, he was dressed in as many layers as he could be, with only a hint of pale skin showing on his face and through a pair of fingerless gloves he had cut himself. Everything else was an amalgamation of black and brown leather, denim, flannel, a puffy coat, a long flowing skirt in leopard-print, and fishnet tops over cotton T-shirts, leaving barely any Remus-outline at all. It didn’t matter what the weather was; his outfit might change components, but it never revealed so much as his neck.

Everyone had their reasons, Janus would quietly say at almost anything their customers said or did. It wouldn’t have crossed their minds to ask why he covered himself so much, but it was something Virgil couldn’t help but wonder about sometimes.

Maybe Janus was right and Remus was handsome, but his face was so obscured by his moustache, stubble, and makeup in purple and green- or whichever colours he felt like- that he seemed to be aiming for ‘gives you a headache after you look at him too long’ more than anything else.

His hair was almost literally a bird’s nest. He had completely rejected offers of a hairbrush or a comb, insisting he preferred it the way it was. The third co-owner of the cafe, Remy, with whom he was staying at the moment, had made many attempts to detangle his hair, all of which had been met with screaming and gnashing of teeth. After each clash, Remy would send Virgil a barrage of complaints by text. But while Janus had offered for Remus to stay at his own apartment, Virgil and Remy had made a mutual decision to save them from 24/7 pining by volunteering instead. Janus had refused even considering dating him the very first day he had barged his way into the cafe- and into its founder’s affection. As long as Remus came to them for food and shelter, it would be an unfair balance of power.

Remus reached into an inner pocket of his coat and slid a purple pin with a spider silhouette on it over to Virgil. “You could stab this into those big brown eyes of yours,” he said, widening his own at the barista.

“Sweet, thanks,” Virgil said, pinning it onto his apron string. It did match with his spider-web hair design. “Then I won’t have to look at Janus getting flustered any more.”

Remus grinned at Janus, who was trying to act as if he’d been so invested in carefully holding the pigeon that he hadn’t heard. He leaned on the counter and dropped his voice into a stage-whisper. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. “I think he’s sexy.”

“That’s disgusting,” Virgil whispered back. “I’m going to throw up in your coffee.”

He shrugged. “I’d still drink it. Then I’d just be able to judge you based on your stomach bile.”

“You’d be so fucking impressed by my stomach bile,” Virgil retorted. “It’s so acidic from anxiety it would kill you immediately.” He turned to start wiping down anywhere the pigeon had even possibly touched.

“Bartender!” Remus yelled in an exaggerated English accent, banging on the counter. “Bartender! I would like a coffee and a sandwich, please!”

“One moment, my dear,” Janus said in a more passable impression, opening up the freezer door and placing the tiny corpse into an empty ice-cream container well away from the rest of the food. “I’m just cryopreserving- what’s her name?”

"Her name is Loki,” Remus supplied, his voice dropping to a matter-of-fact tone which was surprisingly tender coming from him. “She's good at stealing chips from tourists. And flying and shitting at the same time.”

Janus threw away his gloves, thoroughly washed his hands, then made a small note: "Loki: not for consumption." He glanced up at Remus so he could see the note, who repaid him by throwing his head back so he could laugh. Janus' mouth quirked into a snicker too, and the rest of the coffee shop seemed to fall away from the two looking at each other.

"We're going to get a violation," Virgil interrupted, because that was the expression of a Janus who would complain and pretend not to pine for hours after Remus left. He turned on the coffee machine to hopefully distract from the moment. "It's a dead fucking animal."

"So is the rest of the meat," Janus dismissed without looking at him. "And it is wrapped up and away from the rest of the food."

Ever since Virgil had joined the team and the cafe had begun to establish itself as a firm success, the city council had done everything in its power to shut it down. Each time, the cafe had won, even if their most recent fight was one of the most nerve-racking experiences of his life, and their personal lives had been dragged through the dusty carpet of every courtroom in the city. Each step of the way, Janus insisted that the risk was worth it.

After all that, Virgil was not letting the cafe close on account of a dead bird, as skilled a thief as she might have been.

"It’s a pest animal you let in here," he insisted.

Janus dismissed him with a shrug. "Come now, so is Remus."

The customer grinned. "You flatter me, rattlesnake." His eyes traced Janus' face as they scrunched up with joy. "Can you tell me about Dodgy Knees again?"

He closed his eyes as if pained. "Diogenes! Diogenes! I'll break your knees if you mispronounce-"

"Kinky!"

He rolled his eyes fondly. “Oh, is that so?”

So Virgil tried to ignore the disaster scenario of the cafe being shut for good, fixed a cup of coffee and a sandwich for Remus, and somehow got caught into a conversation about the pros and cons of leaving society to go feral in the woods.

“No, I do agree, but wolves-”

The door rattled, and an older white man with salt-and-pepper hair and a pinstripe suit walked in. He wasn’t entirely out of place amongst the clientele, but he honestly looked more like the businessmen in some of the cartoons Janus had papered one wall with. Remus ignored the bell as he leant his elbows on the counter, gesturing with his sandwich as he talked to Virgil while the barista came up to the register.

“How can I help you today?” Virgil asked the man, who was glancing around the decor. That type of customer was almost certainly drawn by the coffee, all blends hand-picked by Remy.

“I’ll be in and out in just a moment,” he replied with a small smile, and Remus stopped talking. “An espresso to go, please.”

Virgil nodded. “Sure, a moment-”

A blush crept up Remus’ cheeks, and he ducked his head with uncharacteristic shyness. As the man caught his eyes his entire expression softened, the hard lines of his face seeming to melt as his lips parted slightly, like he would say something. But, for once, he was speechless.

Janus looked as though he had been slapped in the face. “Are you acquainted?” he asked, in such a casual tone that Virgil knew he was deeply hurt. He arched an eyebrow as he waited for an answer.

“I- yes, I believe we are,” the customer gave a genial smile in return, his eyes fixed on Remus’. “Some time ago.”

Janus’ eyes narrowed. “Where do you know him from, Remus?”

There was a crinkle of plastic and leather as Remus shrugged. “Long story,” he said distantly.

Virgil slid a cup of coffee over to the man, who tapped a black card to the card reader and gave him a quick smile. “Keep the change,” he quipped. It was a tip some ten times greater than their recommended 20%.

“Thanks,” Virgil mumbled, but his focus was on his friend, who was drifting out of the door, as he tended to do at the end of a conversation. “Hey, Remus, we’ll see you later?” he called after him.

“Sure, Virgey!” he replied, giving him a quick grin before he held the door for the businessman, and the two of them walked out together. The older man ducked his head to whisper something into his ear, and Remus laughed and linked their arms as they headed into the street.

As soon as the door swung shut, a cloud settled over Janus’ expression. “Well,” he said, adjusting a sandwich which was just slightly out of line with the rest. “They say a stranger is a friend you haven’t met yet. It takes all sorts. To each, indeed, their-”

Before he could utter another saying, Virgil interrupted with a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure it’s not what it looks like.”

“And what does it look like?” Janus asked caustically. “Remus was acting unusually, yes?”

“Sometimes people get nervous,” he ventured. “If they like someone-” There wasn’t a single trait Remus said wasn’t his type; a silver fox with money was as good as any.

“Don’t say ‘like’, it’s so middle school,” he snapped, and Virgil flinched at the tone in his voice. He grabbed a cloth and headed over to a table which some regulars he knew were just vacating to wipe it down. Poor Loki’s funeral was going to be a tense event.

Except, as night fell and the cafe began to glow with the golden lights and the warmth of the ovens, and as Remy arrived to help them with the evening rush, Remus didn’t show up for the body in their freezer.

The brief liveliness Janus had shown bustling between the kitchen and the front faded as the final family trickled out. He waved away most of their offered money, seeing as it was a birthday party and he knew them, and Remy and Virgil made meaningful eye contact but didn’t protest.

As they closed, Remy filled the awkward silence with chatter about the men he was dating, the new hair product he had tried, the fact Remus never washed up when he was told to, and he was, like, so sick of it-

But no Remus appeared to defend himself, even after they left half-an-hour late and each one tried to call him.

He didn’t appear at Remy’s to sleep overnight, and he didn’t come into the cafe at all the next day.

That next night, Janus disappeared into the back, leaving Virgil to clean up by himself.

His stomach was upset, and he couldn’t help but think about that man over and over.

Long story- what exactly did “long story” mean?

Remy used the phrase when it really was a complicated story full of exes and rumours and friends of friends-

Virgil used it when he was asked why he didn’t speak to his family any more.

But he’d never seen Remus look like that before, and the guy had seemed nice- and there was an obvious suggestion for why his friend was busy overnight.

He realised he’d been wiping down the same table for the past five minutes.

“Virgil,” Janus said quietly behind him.

“Yeah?” he turned, and his brow immediately furrowed at his friend’s sombre expression.

He had his phone in one hand, and his hat in his other. “I’m going to ask you for a favour,” he said slowly. “You are quite free to decline it.” He paused. “I want to go to the house of the man who Remus went out with, and check that he’s alright.”

“I...don’t know that’s a good idea,” he said, twisting the spider badge on his apron so he could avoid the weight of his friend’s expression. “I mean...it could be an invasion of Remus’ privacy, if that was an old friend or-” Scared of causing further upset, he tilted his head to fill in ‘something else’.

“Yes, I know.” He sighed, looking out into the night through their plate-glass windows. “You know I’m not one for hunches-”

“Eh, you turned out a guy for being an undercover cop in like two seconds because he asked about ‘The Antifa’-”

Janus gave him a look with almost the level of exasperated fondness Remus engendered, and Virgil fell silent.

“I’m not one for hunches, but I’m usually right when I have them, then,” he finished lightly. “I have a very bad feeling, and a Google Search for anyone in the town who could possibly have a black card doesn’t make me feel any better.”

Anxiety coagulated in his stomach, but he tried for his final hope. “Are you sure it’s not...jealousy?”

He gave him a long, tired look. “The thought has never even been a worry of mine,” he said drily. “Still, I can go by myself, and make my own self a bother, worse, a fool.”

And it wasn’t really a question at all whether Virgil would let that happen. “Two of us is just a bother,” he replied with a confidence he didn’t feel, unclipping his badge from his apron and slipping it into his hoodie pocket.

Janus hung up his hat and put on a neat suit jacket over his outfit. “Thank you, really-”

He shook his head, opening the door so that a rush of petrichor and tarmac washed out the pervasive smell of coffee and food from the cafe. “Let’s go.”

They walked out into the night, still damp from the earlier rains. The lights of the shops around them reflected against the wet tarmac, and music pumped out of passing cars giddy with the promise of the coming weekend. They headed to the bus stop, Janus politely greeting every person they passed, and Virgil ducking his head so he didn’t have to. He didn’t know if the people who replied were familiar to his friend from the neighbourhood, or just trying to be polite in turn.

As soon as the bus stopped with a hiss of steam, Janus led him down to the back, and sat by the window, checking the map on his phone again. “It will be some time,” he said. “But, I ask you to be patient.”

“Course.” Virgil rested his head on Janus’ shoulder and closed his eyes. “Just tell me the stop before and I’ll be...right with you.” Moving vehicles lulled him to sleep anyway, and he would just worry the whole way otherwise.

“Of course.” Janus wrapped an arm around him, so he wasn’t jolted as the bus started again.

As Virgil dozed in fits and starts, the window changed from views of convenience stores and fast food shops to blocks of apartments, to anonymous offices and retail outlets, to high-walled parks, and then houses set back from the road by sweeping drive-ways or pavements almost as wide as the road was. Finally, his head was jostled off Janus’ shoulders, and he blinked as the stop dinged, too loud after the fog of sleep. Outside, it was pitch black but for the pools of light beneath the streetlights, and the golden glow which the mansions kept far behind barred gates.

They stumbled off the bus, and Janus checked his phone just once more before they headed off down one of the identical sides of the road.

Virgil pulled his hoodie close around him against the night chill. He considered putting his hood on to protect his ears from the nipping wind, but they were already two black men alone in a very white neighbourhood. It wasn’t worth it when his stomach was already rolling with anxiety. He rubbed his thumb over the badge in his pocket and tried to breathe the cold air in 4-7-8. They walked over empty roads, past rows and rows of similar houses, until they turned a corner and cars lined the road, piling into a single driveway which was illuminated like a Christmas lights display. A few fancily-dressed guests stood by the cars, but most of the noise came from inside. The house towered even its neighbours, and was built in the faux-Classical style which he hated.

Janus checked the address against his phone, then nodded. “That’s it. What did you call those, again? False temples?”

“Temples to dumb rich Americans and bad architecture,” Virgil supplied with a quirk of his lips.

“Quite right,” he replied, assessing the entrance. “And in all likelihood, Remus is stuck inside with his…”

“Yup.” He looked between his own patchwork hoodie and Janus’ dapper suit. “Maybe you could sneak in, but I definitely wouldn’t fit in.”

He straightened, and adjusted his bowtie. “Then we’ll go around the back,” he replied.

Virgil shook his head. “Nope, nope, nope, that’s- Jesus Christ, no, that’s a great way to get arrested or even shot. No.”

“Virgil,” Janus said quietly. “These past two months, Remus has visited us every day except that brief time after the fight over the milk cartons, or whatever it was-”

“I asked him to clean up a drop of milk and he poured the rest of the carton over my kitchen,” he said sourly, which he felt he was entitled to despite the situation.

“Yes, yes,” Janus dismissed. “Anyway- he always comes, doesn’t he? So now-”

“I have a really, really bad feeling- and bad thought, and bad everything-” he protested, backing away from the gate.

An orange sports car swerved past them, and parked horizontally across the driveway, and a young white man in a tracksuit the same colour as his car leapt out and gave them a wide grin. “Hey! Hey! Hello!” he yelled, and flashed them peace signs, to which Janus replied with a pained smile and Virgil a small wave. “Everything’s started- have they done the fireworks yet? Or the, shit, thing with the melted chocolate and it flows-”

“Chocolate fountain,” Janus supplied with the smile he reserved for his more aggravating customers. He slipped his arm into Virgil’s and pulled them forwards. “We were hoping to arrive for that too, ah-?” He waited for the man to supply his name, but instead-

“I like your hair!” he said to Virgil, admiring the spider web design. “Rad!”

“Yeah, thanks,” he replied, subtly trying to pull them backwards as Janus marched him to the door after the guest. “Your car is...yeah, that sure is a car.”

“Sure is!” he replied with a blindingly white smile. He flashed something at a bodyguard at the door- who had sunglasses, earpiece, everything- Virgil noted with a sickening thrill of fear.

“And your friends, sir?” the bodyguard asked.

“Yeah, yeah!” The guest tossed his car keys at his chest and headed through to a foyer filled with well-cut suits and low-cut dresses, champagne glasses and trays of canapes. Marble floors reflected the lighting, which glinted out from chandeliers above. A wide staircase glided up to the hidden upper floors.

“Oh, hey! Hey, you!” the young man yelled as soon as he got in, bounding over towards a woman who greeted him with a grin, raising her glass like a toast.

Janus and Virgil just blinked at each other. “Are you...sure?” Virgil asked quietly. “Remus is here?”

“I’m honestly not so sure any more,” Janus muttered to him. “But let’s not rely on whatever chemicals are keeping our dear friend happy, and start looking around.”

They moved through a throng of people and out into a wide ballroom, filled with yet more guests and a live string quartet playing in one corner. Along with the music was the trilling of occasional birdsong from tropical birds fluttering inside several oversized golden cages dotted around the room. A few others held white marble statues, but they couldn’t compare to the shifting flurries of reds, blues, and greens. Without agreeing on it aloud, the friends first went over to a small party congregated by one of them, in case the birds had attracted Remus.

“No, but then I said-” A balding man was proclaiming. “I said, Rudy, that’s not the Dow Jones Industrial Average at all.”

The group burst into laughter, Virgil gave Janus a bemused look, and they moved on.

Everyone was well-dressed, in sparkling necklaces or ties in jewel colours or even in more casual clothes, like the man from the sports car, which still seemed to drip wealth. Wearing sneakers with a suit wasn’t that fancy a look, but when even Virgil recognised that pair from an ad campaign for a luxury fashion line which would come out next month, he guessed it didn’t matter. Nobody looked at them twice. Still, there was nobody dressed in the contents of an entire rummage-sale bin with purple eyeshadow used as contour.

“There-” Janus whispered- “Is that?”

They both froze as they watched a man with a moustache waltz past in the arms of a lady dressed in black. It wasn’t Remus.

Virgil scanned the room again, eyes passing over the gilded cages, and the tropical birds and statues inside them- nobody in the crowd admiring them was any business of his-

As they parted, the figure inside the tallest gold cage became clear. It shifted position- an animatronic? He looked more closely as it moved after everyone had turned away, fiddling with golden chains around its-

“Oh God-” he whispered. “Look.”

Virgil was an avowed atheist, but if the person inside the cage wasn’t a statue, he must have been an angel. His shining hair was cut short to show of the clean marble lines of his face. His chest was sculpted too, covered in scars which looked like they must have come from a golden sword like the one he was gripping. He looked as if he would swing it into position if not for the gold chains wrapped around his arms, tethering him to the delicate bars of the cage. He was gazing out into the distance.

Most striking of all, dove-grey wings crested over his shoulders and trailed all the way down to his ankles. His white tunic contrasted the hints of pale purple, pink and blue shimmering in his wings.

It was one of the most beautiful sights Virgil had ever seen.

He glanced at Janus for his reaction.

He found only an expression of absolute horror. Janus was completely silent for a moment, struggling for words, before he gasped. "Oh, Remus- what did they do to you?”

A cold feeling washed over him.

No- those were their friend's grey eyes, and that was the shape of his face, stripped of his facial hair and usual tacky makeup. No wonder Virgil hadn't recognised him.

Compared to the usual chaotic spark in his expression, he looked blank. As if his mind was somewhere else entirely- or like he'd been drugged.

Still, Virgil couldn’t help but be drawn back to his wings; they were hyper-realistic, even twitching as he tried to tense his shoulders to alleviate the pressure of the chains on his arms. And the amount of feathers it would have taken to make that shifting, downy gradient...not even all of Remus’ flock had that many. It was compelling, but sickening.

It felt wrong to look over his arms and legs when he was usually so adamant about covering them, so he dropped his eyes and tried to erase the knowledge of how muscled Remus was beneath his usual shapeless outfit.

It wasn’t that Virgil found his friend attractive exactly, but with wings like that, dressed like that- he was a centerpiece, clearly, and even as his stomach churned with the wrongness of the display, it was a palpable effort to keep his gaze from snapping back to him. “I’m gonna be sick,” he muttered to Janus.

“He’d never, ever choose to dress himself like that in front of everyone," Janus whispered, anger crackling red at the edges of his quiet voice. "And even if he did, he’d never shave off his moustache.”

He shook his head. “So...what do we do?”

In response, Janus sauntered over to the left, took a champagne flute from a waiter, and then gestured for his friend to follow. They zigzagged through the crowd until they got closer to Remus, whose eyes remained glazed and distant.

They stopped just by him. Up close, it was clear the tunic was some kind of cotton material, and the sword had blunted edges. He was wearing makeup too, and a lump in his mascara made Virgil feel another sharp pang of pity. As ridiculous as painting them on would have been, how real the scars looked in comparison to the rest of the outfit was jarring. He was built and scarred like a fighter, and all the little touches to make him look delicate only emphasised how roughened he was. Both were at odds with everything he knew of his friend.

“Remus,” Janus whispered. The name fell like a plea. “Remus, it’s us.”

All of a sudden, the man’s eyes snapped to them, his expression melting into disbelief. “Remus?” he echoed. It was as quiet as a whisper from a crypt. “You know him?”

“You’re-” Janus’ face fell. “Remus, that’s you-”

The man almost imperceptibly shook his head. “Twins, we’re twins- you know him? Please, is he okay?” He looked almost identical, though up close the differences began to stand out. He was probably more muscular, but who could tell under all of Remus’ clothes? The main differences were a gap between this twin’s front teeth and, more than that, his eyes. Even as he looked at them desperately, there was something missing from them, some jolt of hope or excitement which just wasn’t there. Their heaviness was an uncomfortable weight on Virgil’s face.

He wrapped an arm around himself. “Sorry, he went missing-”

“But we tracked the man he left with back here,” Janus filled in. “Isn’t he here too?”

The man shook his head again. “No, I- I’ll earn more information, after this. I don’t know anything,” he whispered. “I just know he found him, and he wants him to come back without a fight.”

Virgil never should have just watched as that man walked Remus out of the coffee shop. Long story his ass- “What the fuck is happening?”

Remus’ twin tried to shrug and then winced as the movement tugged on the chains. His wings fluttered with the movement. “They just tranqued us the first time. I don’t know why he’s delaying recapture-” He took a deep breath. “Just tell him to run away as soon as he can.” His grey eyes hardened to steel. “He might as well keep doing it.”

“I will if I can find him, thank you.” Janus took a small sip of his champagne. “What exactly was the capture for, if I can ask?”

The captive glanced around the room, and at the movement Virgil cut his eyes to the side. Nobody watched that he could see. “The wings, of course,” he said with a bitter smile. “Yes, yes, they’re real, go ahead and look at them.”

Janus’ eyes widened, subtly taking in the wings.

“My name’s Roman,” he continued in a low, urgent voice. “Tell him that Roman said to run, okay? Don’t listen to any of their offers or threats. I’m not a gladiator anymore; I’m here instead. It’s...not too bad.”

As Janus opened his mouth, Roman shook his head. “Don’t talk to me too long.”

“We can get you out,” Virgil said before he knew what he was thinking. “Whatever this is-”

“Go,” Roman insisted. “It’s not worth trying to do anything for me. And don’t call the police-”

Janus rolled his eyes. “You really don’t need to worry about that.”

“Fine.” he lifted his eyes to the middle distance again. “You should go now. Please.”

Virgil gave a little nod, taking Janus’ arm. “Okay. We’re gonna go.”

“Thank you,” Janus added. He opened his mouth as if to say something else, but then let Virgil lead him away.

He steered them back through the ballroom with their backs to Roman, trying not to glare into the eyes of each of the guests they passed. It would almost have been easier if there was a big fuss and show about the captive man, rather than the chatting and dancing and gossiping with, oh, a living being as a conversational curiosity-

As they came back into the entrance, Janus began to turn towards the sweeping staircase.

“No,” Virgil said under his breath, trying to tug him back to the doorway. “No fucking way. I know you’re angry but-”

“I’m not angry,” he replied coolly. “I am, rather, curious. Because I don't think they tell everything to Roman, and we’re not going to get luck like this again. Any information will help.”

He glanced up at where the staircase twisted out of sight. If Remus was up there, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. And, despite his words, Janus was throw-ignorant-customers-out-of-the-cafe mad. Except, he wasn’t quoting memoirs of increasingly obscure activists or putting neat yellow gloves on in warning, so Virgil didn’t know what he would do.

On cue, Janus reached into his breast pocket and drew out the gloves. He slipped one on, tugging it into place. “Better for fingerprints, and more neat.” He glanced at Virgil. “You don’t have to come with me, in fact it may be better if you didn’t.”

It wasn’t fair for Janus to pull on his ridiculous gloves like a boxer about to face a much bigger opponent, and ask him not to fight by his side. Even if Virgil had decided to leave the party, it wouldn’t have been fair.

“I will,” he said, tucking his hands into hoodie paws. His heart was thumping against his ribcage as if it would break out- that was a thought to tell Remus when they saw him. “I’m gonna complain about it afterwards.”

Despite his apparent composure, it took Janus a moment too long to answer as his eyes traced Virgil’s face. “Of course.” He took his arm. “Shall we?”

He was half-expecting an alarm to blare as soon as they set foot on the first stair- but nobody noticed. They took another few steps, feet sinking into the thick red runner. The back of his neck prickled with stares, but he knew from long experience that those were imagined. Or were they? No, that was anxiety. Janus’ hand tightened on his forearm and he stopped. Above, someone paced past on a wooden floor in the measured rhythm of a guard. He gagged.

“Deep breaths,” Janus murmured.

“I hate this,” he replied. Then he forced a breath in his nose and out of his mouth.

After the footsteps faded, they kept walking until Virgil moved his heavy boot onto the polished wood floor as gently as possible. Identical two-panel white doors stretched along the hallway without any noticeable distinction, until the corridor took a right turn at the end of the row.

“You take the left, I’ll take the right,” Virgil whispered, and Janus nodded.

With their footsteps echoing almost too loud on the floor, they each crept to the far ends of the hallway. There was nothing beyond the corner except another staircase, and thankfully no more doors.

He tried the door handle on the far right with his sleeve over his hand, and it turned. He nudged it open and peeked in to see a huge bedroom strewn with suitcases and clothes, and a sparkling necklace of diamonds carelessly draped over a black dress. But no Remus. He shut it and moved onto the next.

Locked. The next was too. His hands were shaking like there was a motor in them.

He closed his eyes and leant his head against the wall, trying to ground himself in the sensation. Okay. Next one- unlocked.

It was a bathroom, all white marble and gold like downstairs. He closed the door and glanced over to Janus, who shook his head.

He glanced at the staircase before crossing the corridor and turning the handle of the middle door slightly.

A voice rose behind the door, deeper and smoother than Remus’. “Hello?”

Virgil reached in desperation for the next door handle as footsteps sounded from inside, and tugged it open in time for Janus to walk in quickly and efficiently in the rhythm of the security guard. He followed with a few strides, shutting the door behind him in with a fumbled click. The room was an empty guest bedroom. Janus was hiding himself under the bed before Virgil caught his arm and pulled him out. He headed to the big sliding window.

“Please, please-” he whispered to himself, trying to lift it. Locked, locked, oh God-

Janus searched the mantelpiece for a moment before pressing a cold key into Virgil’s hand. He tried to put it in but his hands were shaking too badly and he couldn’t-

Janus took it off him. It fit with a click.

Virgil pushed up the window in a rush of cool air. He climbed out onto the little ornamental balcony running between a few windows and stood flat to the wall, chest heaving, before Janus followed with a tumble. He reached over and shut the window while Janus crouched down below the sill. The room was still empty.

Virgil slid down the wall, trembling hands over his mouth. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears and he was sure he would be sick-

Janus had curled into a ball, forehead to the stone of the balcony.

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that.

After a while, they ended up both sitting side by side in the space between the two windows, hands twisted together. It was silent.

Virgil glanced back into the room. “It’s empty,” he whispered. “We should leave.”

Janus nodded. “One moment-” He crept towards the other window and peeked in the bottom before he dropped to the ground, hand over his mouth.

Virgil widened his eyes. On cue, his heart finished its brief rest.

Janus pointed to his suit jacket, then made a rectangle shape with his fingers. Virgil frowned. His friend repeated the gesture, and it clicked. Black card.

He so, so badly wanted to run now, but instead he crawled over to poke Janus in the side so he would move over to give him space by the window. Their eyes met, and Virgil pulled his hood over his cold ears to settle in for a wait. He kept his head down, pillowed on his forearms, while Janus risked peeking up every few minutes.

Suddenly, Janus grabbed his arm. Virgil lifted his head. He could just about see Roman standing in the doorway, rubbing at the deep red marks around his forearms, and the captor leaning back in a leather armchair holding a glass.

Janus put his hands up to the window-

“Janus,” Virgil hissed, but then the window slid a crack upwards and voices travelled through.

“Quite the party, wasn’t it?” the captor said, pouring himself a drink.

Roman nodded too quickly. “Yeah,” he said in a hoarse voice, attempting a smile which didn’t reach his eyes, which were fixed on a closed silver laptop on a side table. “Yes, it was...very grand!”

He rolled his eyes. “What did you think of the decor?”

“Quite magnificent! Like a- an aviary in a palace.” His wings were trembling as though there were a breeze running through them.

Tilting his head and looking Roman up and down, the captor spoke just as genially as he had in the cafe. “You really aren’t as interesting as your brother was. Too many blows to the head, no doubt.”

Roman’s mouth tightened. His fists had too.

Against the deep, comfortable, red-brown tones of leather and what must have been genuine mahogany, and the backs of books all bound neatly and sticking out of the shelf as though frequently read, Roman’s outfit stood out as even more fake. Gold accents in the sandals he was wearing matched the subtle gold trimmings of the room, but if the study were a convincing stage, Roman looked like a badly cast understudy.

The captor laughed. “Predictable. This isn’t the fighting pits.”

Virgil and Janus shared a look before watching again.

“Your brother’s been living like a tramp and he’s still more beautiful than you are, under all the mess,” he commented, as casually as if he was observing the weather. Roman’s eyebrows drew together, watching for the end of the statement. He brought up a hand to cover a scar along the edge of his neck. “He’s not as scraped up as you, of course. And he really-” He swirled his whiskey for a moment before taking a sip of it. “He really is genuine. You can imagine worse things than this, can’t you?”

He paused, then nodded.

He shrugged. “He can’t. That’s the difference.”

Janus grabbed Virgil’s hand. He curled over and pressed it to his own forehead. Virgil rested his hand on his back and bent to whisper in his ear. “Hey, only I need to listen, so-”

He shook his head and Virgil cut off, peeking back over the windowsill.

For just a moment Roman glanced at the window before he asked, “So, where is Remus anyways?” He seemed to freeze as he waited for the answer, a statue once again.

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” He held his hand out and Roman looked at him blankly. “The laptop,” he snapped.

“Oh!” He grabbed it from the side table and tried to hand it over from a distance.

He took it and flipped it open. Roman stepped back immediately, hopping from one foot to the other like a boxer. Virgil felt himself tapping on Janus’ back in sympathy.

The captor flipped the screen open and typed for a moment before he began to read something. Virgil felt Janus’ chest go still.

The captor laughed. “Oh, would you look at that- “Queer Eye’s Karamo Brown urged to cut ties with Salvation Army”.” He shook his head. “There’s nothing worse than a hypocrite- did you know about this?”

Remus’ brother’s jaw tensed and he shook his head.

He carried on reading for a little while, tutting, and then switching to another tab. “Okay, fine- come and look.”

He crossed the room to stand behind the man, hands gripping onto the back of the sofa as if he would fall over without its support.

“Don’t touch the furniture.” With a roll of his eyes, he reached his hand behind him, twisted his hand into his captive’s wing- then tugged. As he pulled a handful of feathers away Virgil winced, but Roman only reacted with a tightening of his hands. Then he took a measured step back from the couch.

“You know,” the captor said so softly that Virgil had to strain to hear him. “You know, Remus would have cried and cried at that.” He scattered the feathers, spotted with blood, over the floor. “That, or started swearing- and the crying would come after that.”

“You’ve told me before,” Roman snapped. As soon as he spoke, he froze again. “Oh, uh- I’m sorry-”

The laptop clicked shut. “I asked you to behave this evening,” the captor said, getting up and tucking it under his arm. Virgil and Janus crouched down further. For some reason, a tiny chip in the stone paving caught Virgil’s eyes. A tiny fissure ran from it into the rest of the solid slab. “That meant all of this evening.”

“Please-” His voice broke, and pitched high it sounded like Remus’. Janus’ hand tightened on Virgil’s until it hurt.

“Out.”

Virgil tugged on Janus’ hand and bent his head to his ear. “C’mon, we need to go.”

Janus looked up. His eyes were shining, and at the same time Virgil felt like a monster for not crying and a sharp annoyance that his friend had given into his emotions. He took a deep breath, and both feelings passed. He tugged on his hand again. “Okay, time to go,” he whispered.

He decided not to risk closing the window while the man was still in the room, just nudging Janus to the side. They crept across the balcony, slid up the far window, and climbed through one after the other, painfully slow.

They padded through the empty room, then opened the door and slipped out together. Downstairs, the last of the party guests were trailing out, either upright with exhaustion shining in their eyes to match the sparkle of their jewels, or with the help of a few discreet employees supporting champagne-soggy legs. Wordlessly, Janus slung his arm over Virgil’s shoulder, and he let his friend lean on him as they passed security and walked down the long drive to the dark street. He was heavy, but Virgil was careful not to stumble.

They carried on walking that way until the corner, when Janus straightened up and adjusted his jacket. Still, they crossed the road side-by-side and didn’t speak.

As they walked, the bottom of the sky was being washed out into greyness. The houses were unlit now, and they looked smaller in the dark. It just barely smelt of metallic dew. Virgil thought he might start screaming if he opened his mouth.

They reached the bus station sooner than expected. There was half-an-hour before the first early-morning bus. With a huff of air, he sat down on the pavement and leaned his back against the pole.

“Well that was just what we expected, wasn’t it?” Janus said lightly. He stayed standing, facing the mansion they had come from. Virgil looked up at him in silence. “I’m going to murder that man,” he continued in the same tone. “The security for that house is shocking. I’m sure it isn’t that hard. Perhaps I should let the twins do it, though.”

He nodded. “I’ll help bury the body.”

“You know, Virgil,” Janus met his eyes. “You really are the best friend anyone could ask for.”

"What?" he mumbled as he looked down. "He was a dick."

"Come now, you also broke into the house of someone connected to illegal fighting rings whose interior decoration tended to the alive and miserable.”

Heat flooded into his face. “Least I can do.”

“Quite a bit more than the least.” His lips quirked into a smile. “Especially for someone who was terrified of talking to customers a year ago.”

"Oh, shut up." He poked Janus' neat brogue with his boot. "Mr. Sherlock Holmes here figured out the whole thing anyway." His chest felt funny, and he hugged his arms around it.

"Well, Watson," He took a deep breath and decided to stop tormenting Virgil with his tenderness. "I have our final deduction- the man had no clue where Remus is."

"Really?"

Janus shook his head. “He was just looking for an excuse for Roman to slip up the whole time. Taunting him, the furniture, physically hurting him- it was all trying to push him to some tiny ‘infraction’ so he could bluff about the information.”

“Huh.” He replayed the events and nodded slowly. “Sure, I can see that. Still, we don’t know if he’s always like that. He didn’t deny the information when Roman touched the furniture- which is a fucked up rule, Jan- I don’t know if him not saying where Remus is was an excuse at all. He said Remus was better than his brother, and he gets pissed when you suggest cutting those clumps out of his hair. He must have been-” He regretted saying it to Janus, but it was deduction time. “He must have been really- cruel to him for Remus to act anything like Roman. He enjoys being cruel, clearly.”

“You’re right.” He twisted the finger of his glove. “Still, surely telling Roman about how scared Remus was would upset him. And he didn’t, so something doesn’t add up.”

Well, his intuition hadn’t lied before. “So what do we do?”

“We find Remus first.” He straightened his shoulders. “Remy would have texted if he went back to the apartment, we can assume he’s not at the cafe since he was found there, and he could have gone to his usual parks and streets but if he’s being watched he wouldn’t. So, where would he go?”

“It wouldn’t be anywhere with a lot of people,” Virgil added. “Or maybe even with a lot of birds, since they all come to him. Somewhere abandoned?”

Janus nodded. “I think we could check out some of the old warehouse districts.”

He nodded. “Sounds like a start. That one’s only ten minutes after the home one.”

They waited quietly, each caught up in their own thoughts. The bus to their district began trundling past until it slowed down for them and the door opened.

Janus shook his head at the driver. “Sorry, we’re not coming.”

She began to close the doors again without comment.

“Wait!” Virgil waved at her. “Wait a moment! Wait-”

She stopped with a huff almost as loud as the bus’ exhaust. Janus let Virgil pull him through the door by his hand, tapping his card dutifully.

He raised an eyebrow as they stumbled into some seats.

“Where’s the place we were talking about running to just before, uh, bird-friend left?” Virgil whispered, even though he doubted the tired commuters would be listening in for names and details. “And where can you bury the kind of bird friend in our freezer? And where wouldn’t be a place you’d search?”

“The forest?” he replied. There was only a scrubby patch of it outside the city.

“Yup. Look, we should go back to the cafe to get Loki, anyone asks and we’re just, you know, getting rid of the health violation in the fridge in a way which isn’t a health risk to a park or anything.”

Janus stifled a yawn. “That’s very smart.”

“Thanks, it was kinda impulsive, but-” Virgil shrugged as he looked out the window at the unrelenting row of houses. “I’m happy to be out of there.” He tucked his arm around his friend. “And you can nap until we get there.”

“I’m just fine, Virgil,” Janus replied, affronted. “Besides, I don’t want to rumple my outfit.”

Virgil gave an exaggerated yawn himself, and Janus immediately followed. He glared at him, which only made Virgil give him a small grin. “Bedtime.”

He was met with a head thunking onto his shoulder. “You had better wake me up in time,” he threatened.

“I will.” He readjusted so he was more comfortable. “We’ll be fine.”

*

By time they reached the cafe the sky was white and grey. Virgil waited by the bus stop, leaning his head against it as a half-asleep Janus unlocked the front. After enough time for Virgil to consider if he could sleep upright (five minutes), he reappeared with a canvas bag with a rainbow flag hand-printed on it, and a stack of three sandwiches, which he handed to Virgil.

The bus came soon after, and they collapsed into one of the back seats.

They had barely finished the sandwiches by the time they reached their next stop. They got out onto a cracked bit of sidewalk and looked at the trees rising above them. Silent, they walked forward until the concrete suddenly ended.

Virgil breathed in the stench of wild garlic and dug his toe into the slimy layer of dead leaves. Damp air curled in his mouth as though it would die peacefully there. Something chittered in the distance, and then cut off suddenly. He tried to tilt his head up to look at the trees and suddenly the vertigo of only sleeping for a few hours on the bus journeys hit him.

It was a world away from the gilded cage and the dizzying party.

He took a deep breath. “This feels right.”

Janus nodded. He tucked the bag under his arm carefully. “I hope…” he trailed off softly. “Well, Virgil, let us venture onwards.”

He touched his friend’s elbow for just a moment before he walked into the dark trees. After a moment, Janus followed, and they walked on together.

There was occasional litter, plastic bags and water bottles, but as they got deeper into the thick trees and tangled brambles along the forest floor it disappeared. Janus winced as he tried to lift his perfectly shone shoes over a muddy patch Virgil’s leather boots trudged through with ease. The trees were stout and gnarled, fungus protruding out of them like infections.

They wandered without any real direction, just trying to make their way further into the labyrinth of trees.

Virgil suddenly caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye and he grabbed his friend’s arm.

It could have been a pile of abandoned clothes and torn out feathers-

But there was a glimpse of leopard print, and the vague outline of wings, and a low crooning coming from the figure curled there.

Janus crouched down six feet away from him, laying Loki’s bag by his side. “Remus,” he said so softly that Virgil barely heard it. “Remus, it’s Janus.”

Remus froze. Then his wings curved up around him. They were a lot taller than Janus was crouching. A pair of grey eyes came up to meet Janus’. His lips parted as he looked over the two of them. His purple and green makeup was smeared together until it looked like a black eye, and even his moustache seemed to have its own case of bed-head.

“We-” Virgil cleared his throat against a sudden lump. “Well, Janus, mostly, he found the guy’s house? And we went there, and, uh, we were worried about you so we looked.”

His eyes widened.

“We found your brother,” Janus said in a quiet voice. “Roman. He told us to tell you that he wasn’t a gladiator any more; he was there instead. That it, uh, wasn’t too bad.”

For a moment, Remus stopped breathing. Then he brought his hands up to his head, slumping his shoulders and letting his wings wrap around himself. “Bullshit,” he said hoarsely. “What else did he say?”

Janus bit his lip. “He told you to run away as soon as you could, and not to listen to anything they offered or threatened.”

Remus made a strangled yelping laugh which set Virgil’s teeth on edge. His wings were trembling so much that there was a slight breeze on his face. “Roman’s saviour goddamn hero bullshit-” He twined his fingers into his hair and started tugging. “He’s not- fuck,” he winced as he caught a matted section. “Not pathetic enough for that job.”

Janus tried to reach a hand out to untangle his hands from his hair, but Remus only stilled and leaned his head into his glove. Janus gently tugged at his wrist, but Remus wrapped his fingers around his hand and held it to his hair.

“Dude, you’re not pathetic. You broke out of that place all by yourself?” Virgil found his voice off-putting in the silence, but he kept speaking. “That’s hard. And you hid in the same town, in plain sight, for ages. And-”

“I ran away,” Remus said into his knees. “And I knew he’d get punished or die. He had to fight people. All goring out eyeballs and pulling out guts by the handful. Or the clawful. Depended on what kind of people were captured.”

“There are more people like you?”

He shrugged and, just like his brother, the movement made his wings move. “With the weird animal thing? Oh, sure. I would rather have a tentacle dick but you get what you get.” He spoke without humour.

Janus pressed a tiny kiss to the back of his hand, not seeming to care about the smear of dirt on it. “Darling, I’m sure you’re well enough endow-”

“No!” Virgil yelled, holding his hands up. “I have risked myself too many times today for you two to have to listen to that from you.”

Remus shrunk back further into a ball. “Sorry.”

For a moment Virgil was struck genuinely speechless. Then his brow furrowed. “Hey, no, I was just teasing.”

Janus turned to glare at him. He widened his eyes in response. Maybe he should have guessed Remus would be more delicate, but, well, it was Remus.

“Anyway, it’s okay, alright?” he attempted.

“Yeah, sure.” He lifted his head and smudged his makeup even more with the heel of his hand. “Fine.”

Virgil pulled the third sandwich out of his pocket and handed it over. “Figured you’d want that.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

Remus took it and began to carefully undo the wrapping. He took a small bite of the corner. “Mom and Dad are normal but Roman and I just were just born this way- oh there ain’t no other way,” he sang as he shimmied his wings. “But we lived in the middle of nowhere, and we stayed at home our whole lives, even though we talked a lot about hiding ourselves so that we could move. We kept ourselves to ourselves and we had a farm.” He threw his crust to the forest floor, seemingly by habit of having his flock around him. “Hope they didn’t search there for me; that would suck. Our parents saw us get captured, so at least they know what happened.”

Janus nodded as he listened. “How long ago was that?”

“Two years.” He stuffed the rest of the sandwich into his mouth.

“Goodness,” he said softly. “I can’t imagine.”

The corners of Remus’ moustache twitched up into a smile. “Nah, you couldn’t. Thanks,” he said through the remains of his sandwich.

Virgil waited for him to finish eating.

“We brought Loki with us, in the bag,” he said. “We figured it would be a good cover, and we can hold the funeral here.” He reached into the bag to pull out a trowel. They definitely hadn’t had one in the cafe, so Janus must have stored it there after Remus disappeared.

Janus reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and drew out a bag of classic Lays. He handed them over to Remus. “I do hope the flavour’s alright. I think it’s a classic.”

“Perfect,” he muttered. He stumbled up to his feet with a wince, holding his wings out for balance. Even without them fully spread out, the wingspan blocked the entire section of tree behind him. He rolled his shoulders back and flapped his wings.

Both of them stared.

Remus grinned and widened his eyes. “I can fly, you know. I could shit on you midair like-” All at once, his face crumpled and he held a hand up to his mouth. “Sorry, it all hit me again,” he said with a voice like sandpaper.

Virgil put his hoodie sleeve over his mouth as he swallowed back a guilty laugh. He started digging into the soft forest soil to distract himself.

He heard a flutter of feathers- had he been missing that under the whisper of all Remus’ shifting clothes before? - and then sobbing into a suit jacket. It was kind of scratchy on your face, Virgil knew, but it hid tears pretty well. He moved his whole shoulder into his digging, watching a depression form as the other two murmured words of upset and comfort to each other.

“I thought it was you,” whispered Janus against the shell of Remus’ ear. “And- my heart just stopped.”

“I wish it was.” Remus leant his forehead against Janus’ chest.

“But then how would I hold you, hm?” he replied, and there was the brush of fabric on fabric. “We’ll get him out.”

“You promise?” Remus said, and Virgil’s hand clenched around the handle. It wasn’t a good idea to-

“Promise. Split my chest open with a pickaxe and hope to pickle my heart.”

There was a wet laugh. “Kinky.”

“Come now, that was romance as well as kink.” His best friend’s voice was unbearably soft.

A warm feeling settled in Virgil’s chest despite the chill of the weather. Dammit. He stabbed the trowel into the ground again, ignoring the wetness in his own eyes.

He kept digging, until a set of feathers nudged into his face. “Did you poke me from all the way over there?” Virgil asked incredulously. Remus’ wing was as wide as he was tall, and he used it to poke him in the cheek again. It was a little disconcerting to see how much it moved like, well, a limb of his.

A feather brushed over the tears on his cheek. The wing retracted, and Remus came over to kneel by him and take the trowel. He sunk it into the ground, gouging out a huge section of earth with a small battle-cry. He flung it over his shoulder rather than adding to Virgil’s careful pile and then grinned at him.

A smile tugged at his mouth as he reached for the bag. “I think you finished the grave.”

He carefully wrapped the pigeon in the canvas bag Janus had chosen for her and handed it to Remus.

He looked at the little bundle in his hands for a long moment. Then he took her out of the bag. He began to unwind the plastic wrap.

Janus winced.

“That’s not clean-” Virgil whispered.

“It’s going to pollute the forest otherwise,” he replied without looking away from the corpse in his hands. “This is more natural. Besides, they’re pretty clean birds.”

So they watched in silence as he carefully took it all off and placed her in the grave. She was still intact, though her body had stiffened. “Thanks for being here, even if you were technically using her to stalk me,” he said. “Um, this was Loki. She was mischievous, and bold, and really smart. I’m going to miss her.” He cleared his throat and nodded, eyes wet. “Okay. Ready.”

Virgil scooped a handful of dirt with his trowel and scattered it over her. It pattered softly against the earth. Remus was staring hard into the distance. A few rays of sun poked through the trees as he pushed the rest of the dirt back into place. “Should we leave some rocks or something?”

Janus nodded. “I can collect-”

“I thought Roman was dead until a few days ago,” Remus interrupted. It sounded like a statement from a scratchy vinyl recording. “Ghosties are easier to carry around than big living brothers who got jacked from murder. Whatever you need me to do to get him out, I’ll do it. Killing, going back- whatever.”

“I don’t need you to do those things,” Janus said firmly. “All I need you to do now is come to my apartment,” he turned to his friend. “I’m not putting you in any further danger, Virgil-”

“Bullshit.”

He paused, brow furrowing. “Beg pardon?”

“That’s bullshit,” he repeated. “This is the part where you’re you’re going to think you’re being really smart about everything,” he held his hands up, “but you stick to your principles too much and you risk yourself and maybe those two-”

“Thank you for your confidence, Virgil,” he said acidicly.

“Anyway.” This was a spectacularly bad idea. “I’m helping.”

Defensive, his voice grew more formal. “If this is about the court cases, or the job, I promise you that you owe me nothing-”

“I like you, and I like Remus, and I don’t like what’s happening.” He shrugged. “It’s not a big thing; it’s just as simple as that. Okay?”

After a moment, Janus gave a nod.

“Aw, you like me?” Remus cooed. He wiggled his shoulders and grinned, his eyes crinkling up at the corners.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Course.”

Janus gave Remus a helplessly fond smile. “Then it’s decided. I think we could all use some sleep, then we start this evening.”

[whoslaurapalmer]

finished rereading the raven cycle and you know how last year i said i could be pickier about the raven king but didn’t want to? this year i did want to! 

-i mean, i love the raven cycle. interesting magic, very comfy, would sell my soul for the gangsey.  -but most of this post is gonna be me complaining about the raven king  -the tl;dr of it all is ‘the pacing of the raven king is too fast and too slow at the same time. it’s not that i think it was terrible, but i don’t think it was written as successfully as the previous books. i think, because the pacing of the book is so uneven, that the balance between events, and perhaps the balance between the magic and the characters own inherent internal coming of age power, is off. oh btw i am considering reading call down the hawk but Have Concerns’ 

-noticed the ‘blue is calling gansey from the phone/sewing/cat room and gansey is calling blue from the bathroom-kitchen-laundry’ parallel which i thought was very, very cute. that has my whole heart  -also noticed a lot more of gansey’s whole person just constantly thinking about (or not-thinking about) his death  -BUT THEN THE PROLOGUE TO THE RAVEN KING SMACKED ME IN THE FACE AGAIN HOW COULD I FORGET THAT GANSEY LIKE. LITERALLY KNOWS HE’S GONNA DIE AND THE RAVEN KING IS HIM TRYING MAKE SURE EVERYONE WILL BE OKAY AFTER HE’S DEAD -I CANNOT HANDLE RICHARD CAMPBELL GANSEY THE THIRD MY GOD THIS BOY 

-canNOT overstate how much i really do love gwenllian.  -i love her so much. i love her so much  -same with malory. still love him. 

-okay i guess i appreciated artemus a little more -i think my thing is like. do i have a problem with blue being part tree? no not necessarily. but the pacing in the raven king is so uneven that i think what i dislike is how the reveal happened  -no i don’t know what i’d do differently!!  -every time i disagree with a writing choice in a book i try and think ‘now lulu, as someone with a Literal Degree In Putting Words Together, what would you do differently?’ which is a REALLY good writing exercise but mostly just ends up with me going ‘uhhhh. idk. probably have to backtrack a couple plot points and restart from there. no i will not elaborate.’

-last time i thought the raven king moved too fast and this time i agree but also thought it moved too slow?? -i devoured the first three books every time and then both times i read the raven king i kept putting it down because i thought the pacing was so off, so i was simultaneously interested and not interested in what was going on -too fast re: there were A LOT of characters going on, laumonier and piper and henry and neeve and plot points were just piling up and more like slamming together than converging (piper being laumonier’s daughter and henry’s mother being seondeok especially feel less like pieces falling into place than, oh look! ~a thing!!~), ALSO GOD NOAH NEEDED TO SHOW UP MORE (just like. a smidge more noah. would’ve put a lot together), and the speed of finding glendower/driving back/gansey dying/the epilogue -too slow re: somehow so many things are happening but nothing is happening in some parts, some parts dragged, people are just moving around with no real direct sense of working towards the end, blue and gansey were at lunch while adam and ronan were in cabeswater that one time?????????????  (-not that they can’t get lunch. but they had time to get lunch???????)  -oh i think the four of them maybe felt the most disjointed as a group in this book, which is again not necessarily terrible, but a thing  -and these things are just so disappointing because i thought the pacing of the first three books was so GOOD!! things take their time to happen but HAPPEN and i love that so much!!!!  -i do feel bad criticizing the raven king bc i know maggiestief was going through health problems at the time and it took longer than she wanted to finish. but i am still criticizing it because it’s still a very unsatisfying ending 

-reading this time i felt EVEN MORE FIRMLY that gansey should’ve been glendower, and even went so far as to consider, is the text saying he’s glendower, it’s just not explicitly stated?? because of all the parallels??? of gansey being old and young at the same time, gansey + his own magicians, the parallel between glendower shoving that guy in a tree and gansey wanting to do the same to ronan over the pig, the timelessness of the things gansey loves, the Power of command in his voice, a resurrection in the first place  -and i was going to just say, yeah, it’s there, until i got to noah’s chapter again. -i think noah deserved at least one chapter per book (and maybe more during the raven king) and that would’ve made an already tight plot even tighter, especially in the raven king.  (-i was also thinking that if gansey was glendower then something else would’ve happened when they found him, no i still do not know what) 

-big respect though to maggiestief saying glendower had to either be dead or evil and by that page number there wasn’t enough room for him to be evil -and big respect to the fact that, of course it’s not about teens finding a hero, it’s about teens becoming heroes (these thoughts also pulled from her twitter reread), finding glendower (alive) would never have been narratively good or satisfying  (-especially because it makes sense that glendower was dead all along -- if gwenllian was put to sleep wrong, who’s to say that glendower wasn’t, too?) -BUT, IT ALSO MAKES SENSE IF IT’S GANSEY  -but then you have like. the whole time it wasn’t even glendower. it was noah  -which is why i wanted more noah!!! to better lead to that!!!!!!! cause i feel like that kinda comes out of nowhere!!!!!  -the balance of the magical and the real is just off in the reveal i think  -man i don’t know. this is a lot of words. 

-i also appreciated adam’s character arc better this time, which was really nice. -but i still feel no great attachment to ronan and adam’s relationship  

-you know what. i want more mr. gray and maura -idk if i agree with him leaving henrietta. much like the previous paragraphs and my whole gripe with the raven king, it’s not terrible but i don’t think it’s done well, as well as it could’ve been, as well as the previous books  -also! more adam and persephone would’ve been good 

-i was rereading maggiestief’s tweets where she reread the books and i forget which thread this was in but she picked out one of the ‘character x says something that makes character y reevaluate every single interaction previously’ lines and she was like ‘that’s all these books are’ and i was like ‘YEAH MAGGIE. I FEEL LIKE I SEE THIS LINE EVERY SINGLE SECOND.’ and not necessarily in a good way  -sometimes you can reuse a line and it is a parallel or a connection. sometimes you are just reusing a line over and over. 

-she also mentions writing arguments from a point of, both characters are right, or think they’re right, or as right as they can be or something to that effect  -which i really like, and i absolutely 100% see in her writing  -and so i don’t know if this is just a me thing, because i have this obsessive need to backtrack through even the tiniest disagreements after the fact to calmly figure out where i’m coming from and acknowledge where the other person’s coming from, so while i like that every character comes from a place of ‘i’m right’ i feel like it leads to a lot of arguments left unresolved  -but i think that’s just me feeling like everybody should always talk everything out as much as possible so  -and like resolution doesn’t have to be a big dialogue acknowledgement  -but i still didn’t feel like it left a lot of room for these characters to really work towards change -they do change! but i wanted to see it more 

-oh hey so. did gansey successfully sell of monmouth? did ronan get a diploma anyway? 

-me: ‘thing’ is ultimately a vague, unspecific word and should be used sparingly in a narration, much like ‘interesting’  maggiestief: /flinging out ‘thing’ all the time me: you know what, though???? sure, good for her 

-i like henry. but he’s written terribly, the poor guy comes OUT OF NOWHERE too and should’ve shown up earlier more than his two times in blue lily lily blue, and adam and ronan’s super casual racism towards him is like..................................................................mostly unchallenged and really unnecessary  -if a racist comment is going to remain unchecked and unchallenged by the narrative and the characters, what does it accomplish? -especially because it never ever shows up again or showed up before -and gansey just kind of scoffs it aside and blue doesn’t even really truly call it out which is like, the amount of other things gansey will call out???? the amount of stuff blue will call out??????? AND THEY JUST LET THAT GO?????? -so, again! it’s not necessary!! it does nothing!!! it just adds unchallenged racism that has no place!!!!!!!!!!!!

-also reading this time i felt like maggiestief went out of her way to just not say what race blue was  -that shouldn’t be a thing you just repeatedly dance around and never confirm for your main character 

-so my library still does not have the ebook for call down the hawk but i am vaguely considering buying it to read it but also....................i don’t know -i did read the first eight chapters because they were online and i’m like. Intrigued but also?????? Concerned. idk. idk

-looking at it from a distance i have the same concern with it that i do with king of scars.  -do i think dreamer trilogy is necessary in the way that it explores things that are set up in the raven cycle and have big potential consequences? yes. the hunt for the ‘greywaren’, kavinsky proving that there are other dreamers, trying to make sure a dreamed thing can still exist if something happens to the dreamer, the possibilities and limits of dreamers, ronan trying to dream another cabeswater, ronan’s fear about what’s real and what isn’t/what he dreamed and what he didn’t dream, and maggiestief clearly loving writing ronan and wanting to write more of him -do i think those things are executed well in the dreamer trilogy? from what i’ve read about it, maybe not????  -especially re: ronan and adam’s character arcs????? -which i feel like, stupid and bitchy being picky about. -change and recovery do not happen in straight lines. but i think this kind of cycles back to the way she writes arguments with like, is it too unresolved to the point that no change, either positive or negative, is happening?  -ugggg also makes me worry that i just wasn’t Reading it enough or thinking about it enough  -my additional concern is that maggiestief should’ve maybe had firmer rules for what can and can’t be taken out of a dream  (-yes i suppose that limiting the very nature of a dream goes against the power of ‘the dream’ so it makes sense for it to be limitless BUT i feel like especially the dreaming of people is gonna paint you into a corner if you’re not careful)  -but i am also BIG worried re: the character arcs.  -also where ronan’s character arc is after the raven king, do i think he would do the reveal in mr. impossible?? i...........do not know  -well i didn’t think so AND THEN I READ OPAL which i kind of enjoyed, with reservations, which is mostly back to ‘is no change happening’  (-i love that opal is like, ‘ronan’s inner child’ or whatever it was and i liked her more this time around but last year when i read the raven cycle i was like ‘but what’s the point of taking opal out cause they just kind of shuffle her around?’ now, what was the point of taking opal out if they’re gonna put her back??? and actually almost COMPLETELY IGNORE HER in the short story????? there was so much potential there for her and ronan and it didn’t happen...........) -nightwash kinda just happened too, huh.  (-in general ronan bringing his nightmares back with him is like. God Perfect) -but this all really takes me back to maybe there should’ve been limits on dreaming -also after reading the first eight chapters, i’m like -i 100% respect maggiestief for not wanting to rewrite the raven cycle and not wanting to just write about henrietta, i absolutely do -but it feels so strange to read about ronan and adam and not read about gansey and blue as well?  -which isn’t TERRIBLE, but.  -but when i see like, single lines from or little sections i’m like ‘oh that looks like a good time’ because i do like the way maggiestief writes because a great deal of it is so rhythmically poetic and beautiful, but so is a great deal of the raven king while still being disappointing.  -i feel like i’m just gonna feel about it like how i feel about the raven king honestly -and well king of scars.......

-ANYWAY -might read it. might not. still going back and forth on this a lot. i was leaning towards, i’m gonna do it, but now i’m leaning more towards, i don’t want to, i want to keep the image of these characters where i like them, and right now i am aggressively combing through fanfic because i care a great deal about post-raven king trauma discussion and that’s mostly what i want at the current time

[mermaidsirennikita]

I know I'm pretty late with this but I just want to thank you for all the no-bullshit answers over Siena stans. At first I was actually pretty sympathetic towards them and could understand people being weird about her because she's fucking Anthony, but the blatant tone-deaf comparisons between her and ANY of the black characters, only being interested in Simon as a character when Siena should fuck him because Anthony "needs to suffer ;)" or when he refers to his affair with her OR acting like shipping the only two black characters that are male and female on the show is somehow them being better than any of the other fans while deliberately ignoring Kate being a dark-skinned Indian woman now and the context that could likely come with that, not to mention the insane notion that somehow, a white woman like Siena suffers JUST AS MUCH AND EVEN MORE as these black characters who we see suffer 10 times more on this show just broke the camel's back to me. Like complaining about ~classism and comparing it to racist writing while erasing a woc and placing Siena as some would-be daughter of her parents (which in this context would literally be them wanting Indian immigrants to care for a British white woman in the 19th century....) is not y'all being Aware, it's being blatantly tone-deaf and racist. No amount of "you guys just hate sex workers :,(" is gonna erase this. I hate how they think they're being So Smart with calling out the classism issues in the show while conveniently buying into the bullshit "~racism doesn't exist anymore sweeties~" argument that the narrative TRIED to sell to us while at the same time having some obvious issues with the characters of color and how they're focused on and even framed against the white ones. And even now, thinking that them obsessing over this white female character and considering it them being Different and Better than the rest of the fans? Nah y'all are just being terrible at this point. It's only gonna get worse once season 2 comes out and they'll only enforce the whole "~racism doesn't exist sweeties~" excuse in order to be blatantly racist in any of the Kate hate and comparisons they'll likely make in order to tear her down as a love interest and wife to Anthony in order to prop their white fave up. No matter how much they wanna pretend otherwise, Siena's role as a sex worker doesn't erase the fact that she's a conveniently attractive white thin woman that fans will sooner flock to ship with Anthony than with Kate now, given the casting.

One final complaint, but I also find it ironic how they wanna pretend that Kate is apparently gonna be some carbon-copy of Siena just because her character description and moments with Anthony will include her 'calling him out on his bs'. As if the book where she is a legitimate character didn't exist a full DECADE before Siena was created. Literally all the specific traits for their fave can be traced back to Kate and how they were sooner inspired BY Kate as a character in creating Siena than the other way around. Like calling Anthony out on his shit? Anthony having a thing for her hair? Those are canon stuff in the book where Kate is introduced. Their fave is neither original nor going to be the Staple for Kate, but they'll never admit this.

Sorry it’s taken me a moment to respond, I wanted to give this my attention and I’ve had an exceptionally busy week.

I agree with all of this.  To be honest, a lot of the obsession with Siena seems rooted in deep-seated racism and a preference for the precious white woman.  They are using the show to back this up, as you said, because the show handled race horribly.  But because the show handled race horribly and has widely been criticized by people of color on that front, it just reinforces my perception of the most intense stans as like.... deeply racist.  Coupled, of course, with the idea that Kate’s family would LOOOOOVEEEEEEE PORCELAIN SKINNED SIENA!!!!  WHOSE SKIN WE LOVE!!!!!  MILKY WHITE BABES!!!!  

These people of color, from Kate’s family (who by the way, most of these stans get wrong because they haven’t read the source material--I see a lot of references to Kate’s alive parents which uhhhhhhh not only are they both dead but they’re both dead in a PLOT IMPORTANT WAY lmao) to Simon to Kate herself are only used to prop up Siena.  Simon is used to make Anthony jealous, because to many white women watching this show, some supposed Simon/Daphne stans included, Simon does not exist as anything other than a sex object because he’s a hot black man.  Simon is literally reduced to a virtual sex toy or figure of animalistic sexual desire by so many people who watch this show, it’s INSANELY gross.  Called out for racism?  But we ship Simon and Marina together, so we can’t beeee!!!

I do disagree with you a bit on Siena’s personality, largely because I didn’t.... see much of one.  I don’t think the writers intentionally took anything from Kate there, I think they just were like “ah yes, a low-class sex worker, she’s gonna say ‘ell guvna fancy a fuck luv” but also argue with him because we can’t think of anything else for her to do or any other way to mine humor out of her.  

I also see a lot of conflation of racism and classism by these people, and... no.  Regardless of your class, if you are a person of color in the western world, you have probably experienced racism.  I mean, fuck, we just saw an entire expose about how you can enter the royal family in England and experience intense racism.  Regardless of whether or not Siena is lower class, she will never experience the type of adversity that people experience with racism.  There’s this desperate attempt to pretend that what Siena experiences is the same as racism, which is clearly an attempt to make an excuse to dog Kate.

But ultimately tbh none of this matters in terms of what will be ON THE SHOW (editing to clarify: of course it matters in terms of what it reflects re: racism and how harmful it is to people of color who have to see it).  Season 2 is going to happen.  I’ll hedge my bets now that it’ll be wildly popular.  Kate will be loved by the vast majority of people watching.  These people will have even less content than they do now and they’ll show their asses even more and get dog piled on or fade away.  Kate and Anthony are about as canon as it gets.  Anthony canonically says that she’s the best he’s ever had lmao, she is the love of his life, he marries her and she pops out several babies for him.  So I’m just getting ready to drink my Kate Sharma Stan Juice when that season releases, because racists are gonna be racist especially when they have a white woman to worship.  But I know what I know.

[menalez]

ive been saying that i’ll be posting receipts on the hetfem server, which was also heavily requested by plenty of people on here. this post is going to be pretty long, so i’m putting it under a read more. keep in mind, this isn’t every single wrong thing that has been said on the server, some may disagree with some parts even being wrong to begin with, and this post may have more added to it afterwards in the reblogs. the individuals who have provided me with receipts were all feeling threatened due to knowing how vicious and prone to harassing others the women in this server often are. so ive been sent countless receipts with context, which i have tried to summarise as well. please remember that the point of this post isn’t to call out specific individuals, but rather it is to showcase that the concerns and ‘rumours’ going around about this server were reasonable and true, and to show how lesbophobic and racist this server is (which many have publicly stated before being dogpiled by members of the server). 

first is the zionism and racism in that specific regard. “theHettyishere” is black-diaspora, “Autumn” is probablyaterf. both are partaking in the erasure & justification of how israel is treating palestinians, erasing palestinians proven ties to their country, erasing the war crimes israel partook in, and also erasing the racism within israel which prioritises ashkenazim over mizrahim and black jews.

then they got more blatant and started saying that if you’re anti-zionism then you’re .. anti-semitic ?? keep in mind these people aren’t even jewish 

then they go onto defending christianity

and falsely claim hitler ‘deeply respected’ islam. interesting considering hitler called muslims ‘half-apes’ and all but oh well!  

second set of receipts is the defending of blackface and justification of it. in both these ‘debates’, they literally only present one side and then act like they had a great discussion at the end of it when they’re all just confirming their pre-existing beliefs and using one another to support that. anyways, girlsfrommars had previously come under fire for publicly defending the blackface tradition existing in her country, the netherlands. this is her doing it again after backpedaling on tumblr on this topic, and people in the server standing by her. battleking is bookrebelwordwarrior on tumblr. 

the conversation kinda goes on for a bit and girlfrommars does the same thing she did on tumblr not long before this convo, which was give a “oh ok i’ll reconsider!” which may not be her truth anyways.

next is people on the server saying straight women don’t have enough good representation and even talking about being upset over bi women and even lesbians being represented?? again, autumn is probablyaterf. laughing bird will appear in the screenshots a lot, although i’m not sure what her url is.

idk how to tell these het and bi women.... that lesbians have practically no good representation. especially not as much as het women. there’s a lot of parts of this conversation that are highly questionable. tldr its bad if lesbians or bi women headcannon gnc women as bi or lesbians. also its bad if gnc characters aren’t straight.

this next screen is coming from a het woman so keep that in mind. i don’t know how to put into words why i find this iffy so yall can see it and decide for urselves

she justifies it w this when a couple of members make it clear they find her message questionable:

on a different occasion, girlsfrommars, a white woman, decides to randomly ask other white women in the server what they think about reparations. a bunch of racist white women show themselves during this conversation. please keep in mind i was not the one censoring their usernames so i myself have no idea who these women are, but the person censored in white is emanon, who has a tumblr. i dont know what her tumblr is, but she will appear in multiple other receipts after this. keep in mind this entire channel ends up being deleted by probablyaterf to cover up the racism and prevent the collection of receipts, which you’ll see evidence of later on in this post.

then one of the white women dismisses the impact of racism, basically,

then woc start to chime in (white is the white woman, ‘emanon’)

then, after this conversation went on for a while, a mod decides to tone-police and shame the woc for taking issue with what the white woman was saying. this mod is also white.

“my race doesn’t matter, but i’m jewish” sounds convenient. especially since this person admitted to being white and stated thats why she should stay in her lane the previous day:

back to the dispute between LB and the woc:

remember LB’s tone and behaviour in  the above screenshots as you’ll see how different it is from how she acted when a white woman was being lesbophobic on the server. 

probablyaterf eventually comes in with “both sides were bad :)” basically

girlfrommars makes a non-apology apology about bringing up reparations the way she did

the next set of screenshots is just.. i dont even know what to say about it? yall can see it for yourselves because i think its self-explanatory. battle king = bookrebelwordwarrior, thehettyishere = black-diaspora, autumn = probablyaterf.

then the subtle lesbophobia comes in

this convo was then moved to a channel that was eventually deleted (receipt of that will be shown on this post).

probablyaterf then comes in and says lesbians are All saying the things mentioned above 

then radfemkitten talks about how upset she was and probablyaterf goes on about how this conversation should stop or something 

PAT then lowkey admits that part of the point of her server is to be able to talk shit about lesbians without being criticised for lesbophobia: 

radfemkitten more or less confirms this

PAT basically says “if you think women here are lesbophobic then leave but if you keep criticising what is said then i’ll mute and maybe even kick you!” ok

after this PAT muted that woman for saying that some of the women were being lesbophobic. 

someone showed exactly where lesbophobia was present 

 “straight women should have a space where they can shit talk lesbians without criticism” basically ^. this is the 3rd screenshot where members of the chat, specifically the creator PAT, states that the server exists partially so that non-lesbians can say shit without being criticised for being lesbophobic. 

this was then said by emanon (racist reparations lady): 

then probablyaterf coddles the women who were upset for being held accountable and kicks out the women who called out lesbophobia

probablyaterf deleted entire channels which involved members being lesbophobic and racist for the bullshit reason she provided here, basically admitting she would remove things to prevent the collection of receipts:

this is why she is so confident on her blog about how people can’t possibly have receipts on her server. because she makes sure to delete the evidence. issue is, she did it too late. she then started twisting the story and lying to save face. she removed the conversations regarding reparations, separatism, the accusations of racism & lesbophobia, them complaining about there not being enough good representation of straight women, etc were all removed. evidence:

then it gets even more blatantly sketchy, where PAT basically tells the members of the group to not repeat the drama or dish the details of it, as any honest and open person not hiding questionable shit would do, apparently. 

the details and specifics of this drama were all kept quiet by those involved as well, and those involved agreed to not talk about what has happened in detail.

the bit “one of the members was crying SO MUCH because you called her lesophobic that she almost LEFT HER JOB :(” is funny as y’all can see the situation for yourself up there, she said something and people questioned her on it. this wasn’t a case of a poor defenseless victim being cruelly attacked or whatever.

“a lot of them do tho clearly” keep in mind that there were like what .. 4 lesbians that took issue with the server? and initially there was even less than that.

radfemkitten then goes onto a lesbophobic rant.  

then they changed the story within the server and claimed that the accusations of racism were directed at woc... when it was directed at white women exclusively, as shown above. keep in mind the person claiming this and putting racism in quotations is a white woman herself so. hmm.

next incident is some white woman being very blatantly lesbophobic on the server. several people took issue with it, and she received multiple warnings but was not kicked. keep in mind that earlier, someone was kicked simply for questioning a member on the server and saying they were being lesbophobic. yet when someone is blatantly lesbophobic, they receive multiple warnings and then get away with it. “pinkie the feral one” goes by roxxy, i don’t know if she has a tumblr. notice how laughing bird is comparatively very civil and patient with this roxxy person. 

bi & het women determining that lesbians talking about thinking of pussy somehow implies ‘homosexuals are sex crazed deviants’, is what’s homophobic, btw.

next are when the hetfem server came under fire after TD spoke against it and drama ensued. i was initially 100% for the hetfem server and said those opposing it were being illogical. however, after a while of that drama, some lesbophobia was starting to come out from the hetfems which is when i said i think both sides are wrong. the hetfems took this very personally and proceeded to make lesbophobic comments about how im just bitter bc i dont have a gf or something (altho i was in a relationship back then so lol) and then they blatantly said they dont think het women have power over lesbians. the convo resulted in them full on arguing that lesbians have it easier than het women.

next coming is the hetfem server arguing that abrahamic religions actually *helped* women and how radfems should be talking about that. keep in mind some of these are the same people that mock people who say islam is a ‘feminist religion’. 

next is them arguing on the hetfem server that Nasime Aghdam, the youtube shooter, is male and referencing a meme as a source. they completely ignored the fact that Nasime’s childhood photos make it pretty obvious that that meme was inaccurate anyways. also probablyaterf argued that it’s somehow racist to note that nasime aghdam resembles many other people in the middle east (somewhere im from & where ive lived my entire life). its interesting considering how many things she argued weren’t racist or homophobic, yet noting that someone isn’t a Weird Unusual Looking Alien like she wants to claim is ..racist

the probablyaterf goes on to strawman that i claimed all iranians are clones of each other or smth simply bc i said nasime aghdam’s face is not unusual in countries like iran. also keep in mind the person censored in red is a white woman lol.

henryhetta = foxfur-nadine.

listen.. ive seen women wearing borderline clown makeup in my country. it doesnt make them male. anyways then PAT says ‘maybe im wrong but ill insist im not anyways’, basically.

next is the time black-diaspora posted a pic of my mom taken from my country’s gov facebook page, which provides people with her first & last name. this was brought up on the server. they said i was lying (i was not) and went on about how im crazy and need to get laid. also calling me a ‘nigel’ in one of those screens.

then they just keep justifying it and insulting me. instead of taking issue with what a member of their server did.

so basically “calling out lesbophobia is bad, but posting information that leads to someone’s mom’s full name and facebook is ok, and somehow posting something from a ‘public news article’”

then they said “homosexuality is legal in bahrain” to somehow justify any of this??? as if Bahrain doesn’t have a history of killing, imprisoning, torturing, and exiling Bahrainis that they see criticising the government (which i frequently do) or anything. not like around 200 people have lost their lives for critiquing Bahrain’s government or anything. moreover, plenty of things are ‘legal’ in Bahrain but still lead to punishment. sex outside of marriage is illegal and gay people can’t legally get married, for one. and people have been imprisoned in Bahrain for kissing members of the same sex. but whatever i guess. anyways then radfemkitten argues that i sent a picture doxxing my own fucking mother to black-diaspora. so i endangered my own mother and then begged these people to delete the information they posted, apparently? 

sadly, that is the end of the receipts i have on the topic of BD endangering my mom and the hetfem server justifying it and finding ways to blame me for BD’s actions. so i don’t have the bit that confirms how she explained herself to others and justified it, however she did justify and defend it publicly when i called her out on it. BD was not kicked or muted or anything of the sort for what she has done, and as you can see, everyone justified it and took it as an opportunity to insult me. this wouldn’t have been as much of an issue if i wasn’t from a dictatorship and if my blog wasn’t so political. what BD posted is STILL present on another blog and i could not get staff to delete it, so if the information falls into the wrong hands i don’t know what’ll happen to my mother, or even to me.

next is them justifying allying with the right despite their homophobia, racism, etc. keep in mind some of these women reblogged white supremacist propaganda in agreement with it so this isn’t particularly shocking. christmas begins in november = autumn = probablyaterf.

the issue with this, by the way, is associating with a group that is often misogynistic, homophobic, and racist solely to have a slightly larger platform of people who are more or less heavily for gender, gender roles, and more, sends the message that somehow these are ok things to side with as feminists. yall notice how many ‘radfems’ are literally just conservatives who are against some aspects of misogyny or trans people? these are the people you’re roping in a lot of the time. and this makes the voices of radfems easier to dismiss by the left as well. instead of establishing a space in the left, you end up placing yourself closer to the right and effectively putting the success of your movement to a halt.

these coming screenshots are the hetfems arguing het women have it The Hardest in radfem spaces 

separate event is just some lesbophobia, again.

“imagine a straight/bihet woman wondering what the purpose of a lesbian is” go outside. there’s plenty of that. one idiotic woman saying that about bisexuality doesn’t somehow override that.

more blatant lesbophobia in a separate event. note the reactions underneath the text (all in agreement)

how often have gay people talked about how the stupid “you have equal rights now uwu” bullshit is simply bullshit? this is exactly what men use to dismiss feminists, why do it to dismiss talk of homophobia?

a bunch of white & het/het-passing women joking about making a straight pride or kkk march

remember the white woman, emanon, who argues against reparations because “what about poor white people? :(” she comes in with more racism, and some intersexism too! this is her calling caster semenya, an intersex black woman, a man and using ‘he’ pronouns for her. girlfrommars, the white woman keen on defending blackface, comes in to express her agreement.

then they argue that semenya was raised as a male.. because she refused to wear feminine clothing including in school & because some people thought she was, and thus treated her as such until they realised shes not, a man??

this is more recent than a lot of the previous receipts. i reblogged one post by radfemkitten a while back, and she was so flattered she felt the need to complain about it on the hetfem server, to which someone replied by likening me to a male hippo from madagascar. 

[inkdemonapologist]

Okay but I do actually want to know both the things you love and the things you could rant about from DCTL?

OH BOY UHHHHHH okay lets see, I'm gonna see if I can do the "add a readmore after you post it" thing and see if that'll keep it stable.......

But also, much like Sammy, I am incapable of shutting up unless you strike me in the head with a blunt object, so uh, forgive my wordiness:

THINGS I ENJOY:

- DCTL gave us Sammy's ink addiction and like, if you had asked me before all this "what would you most like to see in a franchise?" I would not have answered "one of the characters drinks ink accidentally and then discovers that he can't stop" but boy that sure is my favourite concept that I LOVE to see handled literally any other way than how the book handled it!!!

- I like what it added to Tom and Allison and Norman!! Like, it's not big twists on their characters or anything -- we already knew Tom felt he was doing the wrong thing, so getting to see his CRUSHING GUILT over creating the machine isn't New Information, but it's nice to see and understand more of him; for all of them I feel a lot more attached to them after getting to see more of them as people.

- Like 90% of the "I LOVE IT" category for me is how the book handled Joey, and Buddy's relationship with Joey. The way Joey isn't a Sinister Mastermind Who’s Just Screwing With Everyone but just manipulative in a more mundane way -- someone who thinks of himself as just the guy with the vision to call the shots; he wants what he wants and this is how he's learned to get it; he exploits people not through devious schemes, but just by offering them something that they want or need and asking too much in return, expecting their loyalty for his favours. And the way he interacts with Buddy, making Buddy complicit with him and keeping Buddy off-balance and insecure while making him a favourite and treating him as Special is just PERFECT --  gives a lot of content to kind of extrapolate off of when pondering what must've drawn the others in and convinced them to ignore the red flags. I was initially frustrated with the idea of Buddy not being an artist and jUST DECIDING TO LEARN TO ANIMATE ON THE SPOT ("I've never done this before but I'm sure I can just do an artist's job" is a weirdly common throwaway thing in media and as an artist iTS A PET PEEVE) but actually the way they use his plagiarism to make him trapped in a lie in ways Joey doesn't even realise ends up being a neat echo of other employees (coughTOMcough), who were involved in much graver sins but suddenly felt they couldn't object or they'd lose their one chance, just like Buddy. There's a lot here that I think is really great.

OKAY THATS THE GOOD STUFF, LET'S COMPLAIN ABOUT SAMMY:

- Uncomfortable Bigotry Vagueness that we all knew was gonna be in this list -- I dunno man, a guy committing a microaggression and getting startled and defensive when he's called out for it doesn't necessarily completely ruin his character I GUESS, but the way this was handled is just SO WEIRD AND VAGUE that it's uncomfortable and it doesn't seem to serve any real purpose. "Is Tom black?" is a question I actually have to ask because the text sort of implies he is while also dancing around it and apparently Word of God said he's not??? which makes Buddy's comment nonsensical???? And I mean, you could go that route, since Buddy wonders to himself if Sammy talks to everyone like this -- HE ACTUALLY DOES!! Even within the text of the novel, he uses "Joey" instead of Mr. Drew, which is consistent with his audiologs in the game -- but that makes the writing suggest "this character THINKS this guy might be racist but actually they're reading too much into it and it wasn't racially motivated at all, he's just a jerk!!" wHICH IS SOMEHOW EVEN MORE ICKY??? Anyway like yeah I guess it's not inconsistent with his character that while Sammy Lawrence may not have any specific grudge against minorities he has probably not checked his privilege or done the work to challenge his own internal biases, but “Your Fav Probably Contributes To Systemic Racism In Ways He Hasn’t Considered, As Do We All When Our Assumptions Go Unchecked” is still a wild thing to wade through in a fun story about demonic cartoons

- but yknow so is T H E   H O L O C A U S T

- Sammy's voice is wrong. I'm actually okay with him being a weird awkward asshole, I already kind of assumed he was and that's part of why I like him!! but there's so many places he doesn't quite... talk like himself? And not just in terms of word choice, like -- so in his monologue at the end, he's described as talking so quickly that his words are "tumbling out faster than he can speak them," which initially seems fine; like yeah, that's a Standard Scene we're familiar with, the person who's been Driven Mad With Insight becoming more and more manic as they try to convey it -- until I tried to imagine it and realised that Sammy doesn't talk like this. That's a really consistent quality I always notice about his voice; whether he's almost giddily excited in prophet mode, or he’s his irritated and overworked human self, or he's violently angry and his voice has that echo effect -- he always speaks very deliberately. He enunciates carefully. There's some circumstances where I'd buy this as showing that he's Not Himself, but I feel like those would kind of need to be in the middle of his transformation, not at the end of it.

- In fact a lot of the scenes with Sammy kind of have this feeling -- that it's not necessarily an exploration of Sammy as a character, but that he is filling a trope or archetype role here. Once he's fully transformed he excitedly describes the process as more of a mental compulsion, which is in contrast to his weird yeerk-infected behaviour when trying to get ink from Miss Lambert. Both of those scenes don't seem wrong on their own because they fit tropes we know -- but they feel weird when you try to fit them together.

- I also just in general am not a fan of the ink acting like a weird yeerk. It can be a parasite I guess but when it starts overwriting and puppeting people and crawling around to enter their body that's just a completely DIFFERENT kind of supernatural story and it’s not what im here for!!!

- THE FREAKIN!!! HE WILL SET US FREE!!!! WHY????????? SAMUEL LAWRENCE WHAT IS HE SETTING YOU FREE FROM??????? Sammy has No Motive for any of what he's doing, other than just Ink Made Me Do It. The whole thing that was INTERESTING about Sammy as a character is the contrast between this frustrated, ornery musician with no specific love for the cartoons he works on, and the manically devoted cultist he becomes. What happened in the middle there? What made him desperate enough to shift his mindset so much? "Something supernatural made him do things that don't benefit him in any way" is a very boring answer to this question!!! Susie was a victim who implies that her transformation has forced her to do things she didn't want to do, but we can still see her motive -- she wanted to be Alice, so she took a sketchy offer to try to get what she wanted. Even now, her violence echoes that goal -- to be a more perfect Alice. What did Sammy want? WHO KNOWS. Even in his ink-addled state at the end, we don't understand what he hopes the Ink Demon will even do for him, and in fact he seems to be responsible for creating the very scenario he's begging Bendy to reverse in the game.

- [sighs loudly into my hands]

- Overall I'm left wondering if the author just..... didn't like Sammy Lawrence? And I don't mean that in the sense of him being a rude jerk -- like, Joey is not a good person, but the author seems to be interested in him and in what makes him tick. There doesn't seem to be that same interest in Sammy. Sammy's role in the story is that of a monster, transformed into something murderous, unable to prevent or choose it. He's not a victim of anyone but the ink, no one had to manipulate him or figure out how his brain worked or what he wanted or what he feared or give him any reason to do the things he does -- ink got in his mouth and overwrote his personality. And we don't even get to see that change, not really. He starts out angry and defensive and continues being angry and defensive up until his very last scene, denying his ink-stealing but not really much else. We see all his prophetic sketches but we never see hints of this in him, we never see him start to act more excited and hopeful, we never see him seek out the demon he desires to please. Why do we never see Sammy struggling between his dismissive angry front and a building religious fervour he can't quite suppress? We don't get to see any of the in-between. There's no interest at all in why or even what it looked like as Sammy became what he became, when, to be honest, I suspect interest in precisely that is one reason he's such a big fav.

- It's funny, in a "cries into my hands" kind of way, when Sammy is just knocked in the head while monologuing and immediately removed from the story without further mention, like...... that sure is the pattern with him, isn't it, he just tries very very hard and never actually gets to matter, but it also fits right in here, too, in this book that doesn't want to think about his motives -- he rambles nonsensically, explaining nothing, gets one trademark phrase, and then is hastily removed so the story doesn't have to think about him anymore.

...................I think that's most of it.

...

Y'all............ I'm not ready for Sent From Above.......... I'm just not.... I'm not emotionally ready...... like..... Sammy has to be in that right..... he’s Susie’s boss and she has that big crush on him..................................... I’m not ready