#because this time it is - some may say - a crime against nature

[thequeervampiric]

Victor Frankenstein immediately after bringing life to the creature: 😬😬😬😬 I forgot about the rammies bro

[fairuzfan]

im trying to ask all different kids of accounts bc i can't get one solid answer - how would u specifically define zionist? do you think the people who are currently israelis (and are not west bank settlers, may they all be tried for their crimes) should be able to live in a decolonized palestine?

I had to take a couple of days mostly because I was trying to find a single concise answer for you in a citation. Before I give you a definition of a Zionist, I must first describe what Zionism and it's implications are. Here is Ismail Zayid's "Zionism, the myth and the reality" (click).

The very first couple of paragraphs of the book, he says:

Zionism, as a modern political creed, grew in close association with three interacting major forces which exercised a profound influence on the character and nature of the Zionist movement, resulting in three basic qualities characterizing this movement, namely: settler colonialism, expansionism and racism.

The first of the three major forces was the growth, in the nineteenth century, of European colonialism and imperialism and the expansion of the colonial settler regimes. The alliance made between Zionism and European colonialism is clearly attested to by both sides, identifying reciprocal benefits in the alliance. Herzl, in his "Der Judenstat," expressed clearly both the racist nature of Zionism as well as its role as a settler colonial outpost: "We should, there, form a portion of the rampart of Europe against Asia, an outpost of civilization as opposed to barbarism. We should, as a neutral state, remain in contact with all Europe, which would have to guarantee our existence."

There's more in the book that I can't type up lol, but in essence a Zionist subscribes to the idea of Zionism itself, and insists on the establishment of a settler colonial entity whether passively or actively.

Zionism is a settler colonialist movement, as stated by the founder of the movement for Zionism, Theodore Herzel (quoted above in the smalltext). It modeled itself after much of the European colonialist strategies, enforcing borders and nationalities on a previously border-lose world. I mention the making of borders as a fundamental part of colonialism because by rejection of those borders as a concept, we start to imagine the world in a post-colonial universe. Sherene Seikaly makes this point in her book "Men of Capital" in the introductory chapter:

But in such a search, it is almost inevitable that nationalism—its “lack,” its “strength,” or its “weakness”—will stand as a metonym for politics. In some renditions, the weakness of normative nationalism—a “political deficiency” and a lack of a national “spirit”—resulted in, as the leading historian of collaboration continues to argue, the catastrophe of 1948. In response, scholars have documented a national project among the Palestinians. This work is invaluable and has shifted the terms of debate as well as our understanding of the social and cultural geography of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries in Palestine. However, to continue reveling in the marriage between national consciousness and politics reifies colonial epistemologies. Moving beyond nationalism as both the means and ends of politics is long overdue. Certainly, nationalism was one aspect of subjectivity formation, but it was not the only way to make politics. What I seek to destabilize here is not whether Palestinians were sufficiently national, but to ask why that sufficiency and/or its lack continues to be the measuring stick for whether people can remain on the land they resided on for centuries. Must people’s investment in the random and shifting borders that imperial and colonial officials drew determine their status? Are there other ways to think about politics outside, beside, underneath, and alongside this national prism?

I've said this multiple times before on this blog in different ways, but I'll state outright: I reject the notion of nationalism as a way for us to authenticate Palestinians' claim to the land they've lived on for centuries, as Seikaly mentions. Zionism's core goal is the establishment of such borders is aligned with European colonialism's core goals: division of the world so that they may categorize itself within the world's hierarchy.

Now, the core saying in the Free Palestine movement you often hear is "From the River to the Sea." This, basically, is a rejection of the establishment of those borders as a necessity for the Palestinians to be recognized. Zionism relies on border-making for it to be an actual thing. Without borders, Zionism would not exist. Which is why the "Balfour Declaration," that had essentially districted and redistributed Palestine is often referenced by both Zionists and antiZionists. Balfour, a well known racist and antisemite, had advocated for the establishment of a "Jewish State" not because he really cared what happened to either party — but specifically so that he could get the Jewish people of Europe.... out of Europe.

Seikaly mentions this in "Men of Capital":

However, we should qualify its meaning to get at the specific condition of Palestinian invisibility in colonial epistemologies. Zionists of the late nineteenth century did not imagine that there were no people on the land of Palestine, but rather that they were not a people. Theodor Herzl described a set of caricatures that inhabited what he called the land of Israel: the wealthy effendis who could be had for a price and the remaining impoverished peasants who could be smoothly removed without incident. These people were a motley crew without anything defining or unifying them. Zionists from various political leanings did not share Herzl’s confidence that the people who lived in Palestine would not be attached enough to its land to resist their displacement.  However, the Zionist emphasis on the lack of a politically coherent and distinct people in Palestine who deserved to make claims to the land on which they had resided for hundreds of years would continue apace. The caricatures of the effendi and the peasant, as well as the depiction of the Palestinians as insufficiently rooted, continue to have currency. In the meantime, Zionists were hard at work shaping a cohesive settlement community around a new ethno-national understanding of what it meant to be Jewish. They called themselves the Yishuv. Zionism promised Jews who had suffered religious, political, and racial persecution for centuries in Europe that they could finally become European but only by leaving Europe. Anti-Semitism and Zionism had one thing in common: the belief that Jews could never assimilate in Europe. The process of becoming European by realizing a settler colony would be an abundant source of persecution: For the Palestinians it entails ongoing erasure; for the eastern (Mizrahi) Jews who did not fit the Ashkenazi (European) mold, it has meant decades of marginalization; and for the Ashkenazi, it required killing centuries of tradition, language, and culture to fit the template of the new Jew.

So now you know that Zionism is, at it's core the establishment of borders to reinforce itself as a colonialist entity — thereby enforcing a separation between the colonized and the colonizer that can seem material, but is, in fact, immaterial. Zionists are people who ascribe to the ideology that a Settler Colonial "Jewish State" must exist, and that its establishment is necessary for whatever reason, thereby enacting those borders and displacing the indigenous populations. But what does a post-colonialist society look like if we no longer have these regional borders and nationalism as we've come to understand it?

Palestinians argue for the Right to Return to their homes. I have family members that cannot see the places they were born in because they were kicked out and not allowed to return. I think, for these people especially, it's only natural that they be allowed to return.

You ask if people who are currently live in Israel should be able to live in a decolonized Palestine. Short answer: yes. Of course. There is no reason to reject these people who are willing to live in a decolonized Palestine.

Long answer: still yes but I'm going to re contextualize it a little.

We've established that a decolonized Palestine is one in which borders are irrelevant, as is the current version of nationalism, and no need for categorization. In a decolonized Palestine, as long as you are not a perpetrator of a "crime" (I put that in quotations because of the current colonial implications, but I lack a better word for it) that makes you — and not your grandparent/parent — directly responsible for colonization — like as you mention, settlers who violently expelled Palestinians — and willing to participate in a Palestinian society in which there is equality of all peoples regardless of race, ethnicity, economic status, or religion, then it is possible to become Palestinian.

Israelis are all, to a certain extent, culpable in colonization. There are antiZionist Israelis, but nevertheless, it doesn't change the fact that they are settled on land that was acquired violently. Of course, the same can be said for many USAmericans. To a certain extent, I am a settler in Turtle Island despite being a refugee. I willingly participate in a colony, whether I actually agree with it or not.

I think from hereon, to live in Decolonized Palestine as well as a Decolonized Turtle Island, we must make the reparations necessary to the communities who have suffered systematic violence at the hands of the colonial entity to truly live in a post-colonial world. You might be asking how I think that's going to be conducted — I am not sure. But what I do know is that living without borders — or in other words living without colonialist labels and all sorts hierarchies that arise — will require a reframing of the understanding of our world as well as how we interact with each other in it.

[teabutmakeitazure]

“Say, Chrollo, will you ever hurt me if I don't comply to you?“

The first thing he does when asked such a question is tilt his head and smile. The bastard smiles at you as he sits on the sofa with one leg over the other, still in his loungewear and hair still tousled from sleep. “Why so inquisitive so early in the morning?”

At his question, you simply cross your arms to show you will not back down without an answer. Though you yourself are still in your pyjamas, you hope you could be at least a little threatening. Even if you are sort of hiding behind the kitchen counter. “Questions cannot be answered with another question,” you state simply. “So, will you ever hurt me if I don’t comply with you?”

Chrollo feigns thought for a moment. He puts on the entire charade. A hand on his chin, his eyes looking elsewhere, and a hum leaving his mouth. “Are you asking about something that’s treason level or something more like an innocent crime?”

You raise a brow at that. “All possibilities.”

“I’m afraid I can’t answer unless you’re more specific.”

“Chrollo,” you exhale sharply, “it is 8 am. I am up against my will, and you are testing me for no reason. Please, just answer the question.” Hands now flat on the granite counter, you stare into his eyes hoping he would stop fooling around.

After a minute of thoroughly having his fill looking at you, he concedes. “It depends. You refuse to comply with me multiple times a day, yet you remain unharmed.”

You gawk at him. “And when have I refused? You are simply tarnishing my image.”

“Just last night you had refused to sit next to me because you had already done so earlier that day,” he states. “I believe that falls under ‘refusing to comply’.”

“Oh please,” you say, “I only refuse to sit too close to you when you clearly have dirty intentions.”

“Is wanting to show affection such a crime?”

“Yes! Wait, no! You’re distracting me. Answer the question.”

Chrollo sighs. This time, he leans forward and rests his forearms on his knees before replying. “Cuter transgressions can be easily forgiven. Frankly, I wouldn’t even realise their malicious nature until some time passes. Other acts, on the other hand, more extreme ones will be met with equal ferocity.”

You narrow your eyes at him, ready to call him out on his less apparent but still petty acts, but he cuts you off. “If you’re planning something, I would suggest you don’t continue such foolishness.”

That statement makes your mood do a whole 180. The event you saw in your dream vividly comes back and you shake your head. “I’m not planning anything. It was just a question.”

“Questions are not born on their own accord. Something must have happened.”

You take a moment to debate whether or not you should tell him, but you decide in favour of it. He should know that complete trust and love is impossible in this relationship. Especially after how you fell into his clutches in the first place. “I had a dream,” you start, and he perks up immediately to sit up straight. “I was running. I don’t know where I was, just that there was lots of broken glass that crunched under my shoes and there were a few abandoned houses in the vicinity.”

A pause, and you continue. “I remember screaming I was sorry, but all that happened was some knife inside my chest and your hand holding the blade. I didn’t see your eyes, but the way you said you didn’t forgive me was a little… cold.”

No words are shared for a few moments, but the silence breaks when Chrollo gets up and comes to stand on the other side of the kitchen counter. There is no discernable expression on his face, but you follow the movement of his lips regardless. “I’m sorry you had to see such a thing in your sleep.However, I’m sure that if I do something like that, it may have been for a good reason. Not that I would hurt you over something like refusing to share the same cup of coffee.”

The nonchalant chuckle he lets out only makes you grimace. You sometimes wonder what you can do to get under his skin.

[lesbiansforboromir]

In a BoromirLives fanfic, Faramir must be forced to confront this line of his in particular; Whether he erred or no, of this I am sure: he died well, achieving some good thing. His face was more beautiful even than in life. It's vital to me that this is addressed. Because in Tolkien beauty is holy, they are intertwined inextricably, the holy will be beautiful.

Boromir did not live a beautiful holy life according to most, his life is not spoken of with uncomplicated worth by any but Denethor, Eomer, Theoden and Pippin (all either 'simple' or outwardly rebellious against god). But he did die a beautiful holy death, it is what most people praise him for and in Faramir's mystical dream where he sees Boromir's dead body floating down the river, this is his reaction. Boromir's corpse was more beautiful than his living body, because in death he was 'redeemed' and served his purpose in the great holy plan. He 'died well'.

This is horrifying right? It horrifies me when I read it. And I think it so concisely reveals how Faramir and many others viewed Boromir. I am essentially here to argue that this is all about piety, once again, yes I'm a one track record.

Gandalf, when hearing of Boromir's death from Aragorn, declares; It was a sore trial for such a man: a warrior, and a lord of men. Galadriel told me that he was in peril. But he escaped in the end. I am glad. It was not in vain that the young hobbits came with us, if only for Boromir’s sake.

Now, what is Gandalf saying here? Boromir did not escape, he died. Does he mean he escaped corruption? Well, no, since apparently this 'escape' had something to do with Merry and Pippin and Boromir shook off the pull of the Ring long before he was sent to find them. What role did Merry and Pippin play in this 'escape'? Well, Boromir died for them, he had too, there was no other way out of that ambush. So by process of elimination the only thing the 'young hobbits' did that was 'for Boromir's sake' was... to be there so he could die for them, right?

And remember, his death did not actually save them or really help in any way, the hobbits are still taken and the Uruk-hai's downfall has nothing to do with Boromir. In fact Aragorn squandered any time Boromir might have given him to catch up to the Uruk-hai by spending hours on his funeral. So, the death alone is what is being called 'good' here, what is beautiful. Boromir dies and that is beautiful and something to be glad for, according to Gandalf and Faramir.

But why do they think this? Faramir has his 'alas for Boromir, whom I too loved' and Gandalf laments 'poor Boromir', so they have at least some pity for him. What was 'good' to them about Boromir dying? Well we all know this one don't we, it's the accepted narrative of it all, Boromir 'redeemed' himself with this deed. He tried to take the Ring, and for this crime he needed redemption that he gained through vainly giving up his life to try and save Merry and Pippin.

But, in fact, Boromir himself has a slightly different way of phrasing it. Boromir says, of his own death; ‘I tried to take the Ring from Frodo,’ [-] ‘I am sorry. I have paid.’

He paid for it. To Boromir, in this cosmic exchange, he chose wrongly and paid for the offence with his death. This wasn't redemption, it was spiritual commerce, crime and punishment. Which is a perspective that once again demonstrates Boromir's enduring lack of 'faith' or spirituality. The powers of the west and Eru may exist, but they exist to him as forces of nature, some fact of the world we all must just live with, not something that fills him with hope or brings him nobility or meaning or a 'higher purpose'. Boromir does not want to be closer to divinity, he does not want to be beautiful or noble, he wants his people to be safe.

But of course, this is entirely opposite to Faramir's perspective, and if not downright heretical then at least unfaithful. So, when alive, Boromir cannot achieve 'beauty' in Faramir's mind, because he is unfaithful. It is only when he is dead, when 'fate' draws him into this spiritually good 'end' that sees him give up his life for a holy quest, when Boromir's life is no longer defined by him but by his death, that he can be beautiful.

And bringing this all the way back around, there are two ways you could do this in a boromirlives fic. Either, Boromir comes back but he does not look like he did in Faramir's dream. He did not pay, he is still alive to define who he is and Faramir finds himself slowly drawn into this terrible psychological horror as he realises he misses his brother's death more than he missed his actual brother.

Or Faramir needs to be confronted with a brother who looks dead to him. Boromir has come back and to Faramir's eyes he looks exactly as he did in the dream, but now this corpse moves and speaks and can no longer be confined to one perfect conceptual moment. And this also horrifies him. It is for authors to decide if this is just an aspect of Faramir's perspective, or if Boromir actually 'came back wrong' as it were, he did pay but somehow he came back anyway.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Hello cat, may i request a hero who's had a string of bad relationships and a villain who's absolutely in disbelief that that could happen. Like they're absolutely flabbergasted that multiple someones didn't like the hero.

Have a good day! Drink water and rest :>

With the villain's knife nearly digging into the hero's shoulder, they looked up at their enemy, panting and exhausted. They knew the villain loved the thrill, the damn sparring.

It was all a game to the villain, a funny and meaningless game when they toyed with the hero. They liked to watch them fight, loved to challenge them.

The villain seemed way more relaxed than the hero did, after all the hero had a bunch of responsibilities on their shoulders that had an actual weight. The hero was 90% sure the villain was some millionaire with too much time on their hands.

"Quite the intimate position, dear," the villain whispered. They winked and leaned down, making their knife press a little harder against the hero's shoulder. "You look lovely today, by the way."

"Your pick-up lines get worse, do you know that?" the hero asked. They tried to wiggle and somehow get away from their nemesis but it was to no use. The villain sat down on their hips and pressed them into the ground. Their smirk never faltered.

"Oh, come on. You love it."

"Just a little," the hero said. They were pretty sure all of this was a big joke. And even though that was true, even though the villain pretended to like them, the hero welcomed the effort.

It made them feel special. Especially when the villain got jealous.

"Don't tempt me," the villain said. However, their smirk fell when they saw the hero's sad smile. "What is it?"

"What? Nothing, nothing. Where were we? You wanted to stab me?" The pressure faded and the villain looked quite puzzled.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"Why do you care?"

"Because you're the only interesting hero in this boring city. Would hate it if you actually fought me."

"I am actually fighting you."

"You're holding back, don't think I am that dumb, please."

The hero sighed. They supposed it wasn't a good idea to tell the villain what kind of troubles they got into when they weren't in costume. It wasn't smart to reveal that much of themselves, was it?

They took in another breath.

But wasn't that why they kept their identity a secret?

"...it's kind of pathetic," they said.

"I commit crimes to get your attention. That is pathetic," the villain joked and somewhere deep down, the hero felt more secure. It was strange how the villain could be such a stranger yet the person the hero was closest to.

"I'm just enjoying this more than I should. I'm not very good when it comes to personal relationships, so your efforts are really refreshing."

"You are not good with personal relationships? You with all your conflict-resolving talk and your words of encouragement and your helpful nature? You?"

"Yeah...can't seem to keep a partner."

"You're kidding. You've kept me for three years." The hero smiled. Whether it was intentional or not, the villain managed to calm their anxiousness.

"I guess I am too needy. Or too distant. Too pushy, I don't know. Maybe I am one of those people who doesn't end up with anyone." They shrugged and the irony of saying that while the villain was sitting on their hips only occurred to them later.

"Oh please, people must be throwing themselves at you. I mean, hello!?" The villain looked down the hero's entire body, suggesting that the hero was some kind of royal everyone drooled over. This time, the hero felt their cheeks burn.

"Ugh, stop it. You're so annoying." They pushed the villain's face away, partly because they wanted to touch them, partly because they didn't want the villain to see their glowing face. But the villain only looked amused.

"You're totally lovable," they said. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

With that they winked at the hero and disappeared into the night.

And the hero realised they had a terrible crush on their enemy.

[astaroth1357]

Showing the OM Cast Trashy Reality TV Shows

We all have our weaknesses. Mine is called "Watching People Who Watch Reality Shows Talk About Reality Shows I'll Never Actually Watch."

Contents: Well I mean. Reality TV if that spooks you.

~♡♡♡~

Lucifer

You cannot convince me this isn't a guilty pleasure of his. I can absolutely see him pulling on some sweatpants and watching Love Island with MC on lazy day.

Sometimes, when your life is stressful, you just want to sit down and watch the DUMBEST thing possible. Pure junk food for the gray matter, you know? Can't get enough of the trashy romance shows in particular.

He gets pretty invested, even if he denies it. He'll usually pick out a favorite person or favorite couple and gets PISSED if anything happens to them. Everyone else, he couldn’t care less about.

If he misses a week, he'll get a text from MC asking if his favorite person/couple is still doing okay and nothing more. If something big happened though, he'll secretly clear his schedule so he has time to watch it with them as soon as possible.

Very "husband who says he doesn't care but the second you mention the name of a person he doesn't like, he'll go on a 20 minute tirade" sorta vibe.

Mammon

A very enthusiastic enjoyer of these kinds of shows. He loves the drama!

Definitely has one of the long running-types (like Vanderpump Rules) like a comfort show, though he mostly sticks to Demon RTV. MC isn't going to have a CLUE what 2nd Circle Beats or Devildom Dynasty is all about...

Mammon strikes me as someone who either has been on or auditioned for a reality show in the past. Just... look at him. Tell me he hasn't!

His modeling agent probably told him to so he could get better shoots... But I'll guess he was pretty popular on whatever he showed up on. Fan favorite for sure!

Would definitely show MC some of his favorite shows if they're into that short of thing. Demon RTV is.... edgier (the violence gets pretty heated) but the causes are all the same. They should be in for a good time!

Leviathan

Reality TV is for normies!! Why would he want to watch that???

The very thought of watching attractive people go on and on about their love lives makes him physically ill... Like he doesn't get enough of that stuff from Asmo and Mammon already!!

If MC is going to try and get him to watch ANY of them, it has to be a show that's almost guaranteed to be a mess from the outset like Love After Lockup or MILF Manor (which is a crime against humanity, btw. Sigmund Freud haunts us all.)

Make him sit through a second of Too Hot to Handle or F-Boy Island and he may straight up dump them. Or melt into a smoldering pile of envious goo.

If easy-watching is what they want, why can't they watch something else? Like a cuddly Slice-of-Life or some dumb card game anime?? There's even sports anime FAR more worth their investment with a billion times the substance!!

Not a reality TV fan. Keep it away from him. He'll whine, mope, or go ballistic if he has to see it.

Satan

Approaches human reality shows kind of like he's watching a nature documentary... but still laughs at the stupid bits.

Watching a trashy reality show with Satan can be pretty entertaining because he'll spend the whole time trying to grasp "human culture" from all the chaos. Or try to deconstruct why anyone would want to what these shows AS one is playing.

What's even funnier is when he makes comparisons between how things happen in the show and how they would play out in Devildom instead. Like, if a succubus catches their SO cheating, they'll either add the new partner into the relationship or behead them both. Depends on the day.

Particularly fond of one's that follow around bombastic families because then he also gets to pick apart human family dynamics in the process.

MC has to constantly remind him that a lot of it is staged and not EVERYTHING he sees to true to human life.... but it is true to human entertainment.

Asmodeus

Keeps up with both human AND demon reality shows and has even hosted a couple in the past!

He LIVES for the tea! He BREATHES in the drama! Man can't get enough!! He'll even skim through the tabloids and keeps up with any feuds like he's following genuine war updates.

Since Asmo is such a popular figure in Devildom public life, it isn't even surprising for the paparazzi to stop HIM to get a few photos and ask him his opinions on any fights or scandals.

Unlike Mammon, he's never been in one himself (MC has no idea how bloody Demon RTV can get and does he want to ruin his skin like that?? Hell no!). He doew hang out with the stars of shows he likes all of the time, though.

He sometimes has watch parties with Mammon and MC gets invited along now. Being in the middle of those two is insane because it's like getting to know ALL of the dirty laundry of the kingdom's elite at every get together. Gossipy bitches be chattin' fr.

Beelzebub

Man will watch anything as long as they supply the snacks.

Does Beel care about reality shows? No. Not even a little bit. Will he watch all 16 seasons of Married at First Sight as long as MC refills his popcorn bowl? Absolutely!

Honestly, poor Beel can hardly keep up with the drama anyway... If a show has too many love triangles, he'll lose track of who's dating who and sit there lost for an excruciating amount of time.

Was even more confused about why anyone would watch these shows after MC told them they were staged. All that shouting is over nothing...?? This is a really weird genre...

MC would have an easier time getting him invested in like... I dunno a cooking game show than anything having to do with relationship drama. Though they would run the risk of soaking the couch in drool if they try...

Belphegor

Not super into them or super against them. He'll watch one in the background until he inevitably falls asleep.

Belphie is probably one of the brothers most likely to agree to watch any reality show MC wants with them, but with the understanding that's he's only using it as an excuse for cuddle time.

Belphie weirdly has both zero emotional investment in anything happening on the screen but also a frighteningly good memory for what actually happens per episode... MC could quiz him on actor personalities, timelines, scandals, or relationships and he'll somehow always get it right.

He can tell you that Vassago and Sitri from 2nd Circle Beats are having a feud over who sent the succubus to crash Baal's birthday party, but seriously don't expect him to care. He wants soft blankets and warm bodies to nap to. Give him that and he's happy.

Part of it is just learned behavior. Belphie was Asmo's go-to watch buddy for the longest time. Whatever part of his brain that soaks up class lessons in his sleep seems to work just as well for the dramatic minutiae of a reality show, so he's like a walking DVR.

Diavolo

Thinks that all reality shows are so quaint and amusing, but they definitely skew his impression on everyday human life...

After being exposed to some of the longer running shows, he was really surprised that MC and Solomon are so... chill with each other?

I mean. They weren't throwing drinks, talking shit, or stabbing each other in the back every second of day, right? Obviously they must be quite close!

He even comments on how truly well they must get along as Master and Apprentice! Such a beautiful bond... Stronger than their natural human impulse for complete social and emotional disorder!!

(Please educate him on actual human dynamics and NOT just the ones that get dramatized for TV. We're not that bad, Dia, promise.)

Barbatos

Doesn't exactly like the shows, nor does he have time for them, but if MC likes them then he'll swallow his distain.

Honestly, Barbs looks down on the humans in reality shows even more than he does most of humanity in general. The things some of them would do to chase fame is simply... Well. He looks forward to seeing certain individuals among damned one day.

He probably busies himself by giving MC a foot rub or caring for their nails while they watch their shows. Anything that can keep his eyes off the screen.

Occasionally, something OUTRAGEOUS will happen and MC will hear him make a small scoff of disapproval, but that's about it.

He's well aware that a portion of what is presented is fake or at least staged to some degree, so he doesn't let it paint his perception of human culture. That said, he thinks that anyone who's willing to make a spectacle of themselves for a public audience speaks quite enough on its own. (And seriously don't get him started on the demon variety of these shows unless you want to seem him get grouchy).

Simeon

Also not the biggest fan, but he does enjoy getting to guiltlessly throw shade from time to time.

At some level, Simeon thinks it's a little impolite to gawk at total strangers and judge how they handle their relationships... butvon the other hand, they ARE the ones who agreed to the cameras so...

Has a strict policy to never watch reality shows in front of Luke so he doesn't get a bad influence. But also, so the little angel doesn't end up hearing the absolute INFERNO that Simeon roasts the actors with.

"Ah... So naturally gifted in all but wits!" "I do believe that young man is quite familiar... I think I once saw something much like him at the bottom of my shoe." "Mm? MC? Are you sitting on the remote? I think you may have changed the channel to Devildom TV... No? Oh. My mistake. They just seemed so heartless that I thought they'd fit in well here..."

Tearing. Scathing. His contempt cannot be contained. It is, however, a good outlet for him so please let him roast away!

Solomon

Guy is so out of touch with the modern era that watching these shows is just as bizarre to him as watching a viewing screen into a Victorian ballroom would be to us. Who keeps creating these strange words every other month...?

Reality dating shows give him whiplash. People get married now after 90 days? Or at first sight?? Or before they even SEE each other at all??? The last time he ever thought of courtship, it was still mostly arranged by the couple's families... Things have really sped up.

Not that he's complaining too much, because that gives him all the more reason to go through with his fantasy of proposing to then marry the MC in less than 12 hours (or however long before the brothers notice he's attempting to steal them away).

He feels like he has a leg up on the angels and demons around them for once because at least MC doesn't have to stop and explain human customs to him every five seconds. ... Just the modern ones.

I feel like watching Reality TV with Solomon is a very, "Let's get a little drunk and laugh at the screen" sort of affair. Very loose with a lot of jokes flying at the actors expense. He may or may not remember what all happens in the show, but hey, it's good fun!

[kwillow]

I have this strong feeling that theo would be very happy to live in one of my oc's nations. (Hes a minotaur prince of a country that religiously collects any and ALL forms of knowledge cause they believe knowledge no matter what about or how you got it, is not evil also they do necromancy) Unless theo likes to lie in which case just dont do it infront of the crown prince and he'll be golden. The prince tends to skin people alive for lying to him u.u

Theo's a man of ethics, you know. He's taken a Hypocritic Oath.

Alas, I worry Theo might not be as at home in such a nation as one might think, despite his, erm, hobbies.

His studies into necromancy/blood magic are done out of a sense of filial duty, and as a rather fussy man with a prudish personality, he finds the hands-on application of it quite revolting and something to be endured rather than enjoyed. Additionally, Theo may be a nerd who loves books and dark magic and books about dark magic, but he is also a proud scion and adherent of an archaic aristocratic line. As such, he comes packaged with some rather staid, traditionalist values and the belief that most people are inherently his lesser. His few social experiences haven't dissuaded him from the opinion that the vast majority of people are some combination of brutish, stupid, and dissolute.

All that to say - he believes that he himself has the proper motivations, intellect and capacity for self-control (ha) to practice responsible crimes against nature, but would he say the same of wide swathes of society? Certainly not! A kingdom wherein necromancy is widespread and celebrated would naturally have too many lowly people who should never practice such a gruesome, potent art doing so, and that means the kingdom itself must be corrupt.

He would view the collection of dubiously-attained knowledge similarly. He would certainly like to partake in such knowledge, because he is a noble man of good breeding and fine manners who can understand and apply such knowledge with a gentleman's delicate touch. As a curiosity, and out of an appreciation for historical artifacts, he would like ancient tomes of evil work preserved, but not accessible to the unwashed masses who would sully them or use them for ill. Better to remain in a private library, read only by those who engage in appropriate self-flagellation after. Who decides what to preserve and which people should get access to it? Well, himself, of course! He wouldn't trust any other curator's judgment. Another strike, in his view, against a kingdom with a laissez-faire approach to science.

Also, while he values (often brutal) honesty and is certainly not a consummate confabulator of the caliber of Hyden or Ambroys, Theo will use deception to achieve his own ends. Just... not often very well. He's not exactly rocking a Charisma build. He also tends to chafe against male authority figures, especially if they threaten any consequences of his actions. It might end badly for him on the "skinning alive" front.

Anyway - I wouldn't stamp Theo's visa to the minotaur prince's kingdom, for everyone's sake. Best case scenario, he rudely complains about everyone there being debased reprobates the whole time and everyone is extremely uncomfortable. Worst case scenario, I've got one dead rat-sans-pelt and the city's libraries have been ransacked by a man who feels like common people are too dumb and immoral to read medical textbooks and the Kama Sutra alike.

[fandangotales]

500 Followers Event, figured I would do it right out the gate so I didn't forget lol. Also, be aware this is lengthy and I am so sorry for it.

How do you think the characters (Jean, Ningguang, and Sara) would react to a reader who listens to crime and history stories while playing, in particular crime cases such as Jack the Ripper, history stories such as the South Sea bubble and the Depression, and war stories such as the American Civil war or stories from the world wars?

How would Jean react to hearing about the devil of Whitechapel who paralyzed London and was never caught? What would she think of a world where monsters like Jack roam while her god is defenseless.

How would Ningguang react to the first financial crash in history...and the fact that so many people actually fell for it?

How would she feel knowing about just how often our world has financial crashes and just how many troublers it has with currency, and more importantly how would she feel knowing that such times could engulf the world while her God calls it home?

How would Sara react to the bloody and horrible nature of our conflicts, because while Inazuma's civil war may have been bad, I feel that it utterly pales in comparison to the sheer devastation and madness that was America staining itself red.

How would the ever loyal general feel knowing just how devastating and horrific the wars of our world can be, and just how plentiful they are? How would she feel knowing that her creator could be caught in one such conflict with none of them there to protect them?

I intend to do something like this where the Acolytes get tormented with gruesome facts and stories by a child reader who is a history buff and decides to tell them some of the tales about our world...and promptly gives all of them nightmares in the process lol.

I hope to get on the idea...sometime this or next year because I have a few other projects I am working on and I know just how badly I tend to procrastinate.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy this ask, if you don't want to do it that is okay. Here is hoping I did everything right in regards to the rules in regards to this ask, but regardless have a great day and stay safe.

If you do end up writing that, I’d love to be tagged so that I can read it. Also, please don’t worry about your ask being troublesome, I’m honored to be getting an ask from one of my favorite SAGAU writers! Keep up the good work on your writing, I always love reading your posts! <3

Honestly, considering the way Teyvat works in regards to safety, and wars… I think it’s fair to say that many, if not all of the people there would be shocked by what life is like on Earth.

For example, if you decided to go out on an adventure by yourself, the worst you’d have to worry about would be hilichurls, considering that you aren’t going anywhere particularly dangerous.

On Earth, that simply wouldn’t work because there are a lot of bad people, and bad things that could happen to you if you were simply out on a walk at night. Especially if you weren’t in the company of another person.

If Jean heard about people who’ve done horrible things like murdering multiple people for… “The fun of it?”.

I can imagine her being repulsed, and incredibly concerned for your safety.

You may be the literal God of Teyvat, but would that stop anyone from randomly deciding to murder you, “for the fun of it?”

You might hear this idle voice line more often than the others:

“I do hope the Knights of Favonius are all working hard…”

She wants to tell you to take precautions against those with hostile intentions, to make sure you aren’t out to late… if only the code didn’t restrict her from voicing her thoughts.

For now she’d have to settle with reminding you of how safe Mondstadt was. With the Knights of Favonius, you would be safe.

With her, you’d always be safe.

Just… please be careful, alright?

The first time Ningguang heard about how terribly this world deals with money, she’d probably laugh.

“Oh, how amusing.” She’d chuckle, before realizing that it was your reality, instead of just a poorly made joke.

The idea of multiple currencies seems especially stranger to her, since Teyvat only uses Mora. (Disregarding the use primogems, which is only for you.)

One day, however, as you were talking while playing Genshin, she heard you bring up something called “inflation”.

You then proceeded to complain about how food prices where getting ridiculously expensive, and how your “fridge” had literally no food in it.

Ningguang seemed to freeze, being brought back to her early days as a child.

She had been through similar struggles, but knowing that her God is going through financial issues?

That her God is suffering because of the undeserving world in which they reside?

Preposterous.

“There were over 60 million casualties from World War 2…”

The voice droned on, as another daily commission was completed.

Sara’s face blanched, taking in the numbers.

60 million.

That was well over the number of citizens living in the entirety of Inazuma.

“The war was notable for the Nazi-sponsored genocide of the Jewish people…”

Genocide of people?

Why?

Her hands shook around her bow, as you guided her to shoot a hilichurl, directly in the head.

Sara heard you sigh, as the monotone voice was silenced.

Your divine voice spoke over the background music of the game.

“Third war I’ve had to research this week, interesting, huh?”

This was… considered an everyday occurrence for you?

Another shot, the hilichurl faded to dust.

You lived in a world where wars like that frequently happened-

She steeled herself, finding resolve as she struggled to keep shooting the hilichurls.

Sara would find a way to bring you to Teyvat, where you wouldn’t be in any danger, ever again.

[microcosmicheart]

Your Eyes Tell

When your person looks into your eyes, what do they see and what do they feel?

1 2 3 4

Pile 1

This pile’s person is giving “You two against the world” vibe.

What do they see?

They might have chased after you for a bit before the two of you got together.

They like you ALOT.

I see images flashing through their head of all the times you two have laughed together. They really treasure you and your connection because they understand that your nature is more social so you’ve had plenty of opportunities in the past to have partnered or stayed with someone else.

What do they feel?

They feel that with you, their life is full of adventure but in a way that's due to your mysterious(?) nature. 

Like they have no idea what’s going on in your head sometimes but it doesn't scare them at all. They’re ready to do whatever, whenever.

They’re in love with you fr fr. It took a minute to get the cards cuz they kept sneaking extra ones in. They have so much to say about you <3

Have a lovely day <3

Pile 2

This pile’s vibe is kinda dark but not like evil or scary. More like adrenaline pumping at night, for whatever reason.

What do they see?

Cards flipped right out awww

They see their fate. The KNOW yall are soulmates fr.

The two of you might have had to overcome or fight through a few obstacles to be together.

They feel very deeply about you. Giving partner in crime.

Also getting that whatever you are/do (career) or have gone through, they respect you. Period.

I’m hearing  “I don't care. I don't care.” from them while someone else tries to twist your loves’ view of you.

What do they feel?

They can not fail when they’re with you.

Side note, you may be a bit ‘backwards’ to the people around you. Your person loves you all the same.

(They lowkey are tryna write you a letter)

They feel your reasons for the way you are, and they’re careful to have me not use ‘understand’.

They themselves feel their emotions veerrryy deeply, so when they watch you in all your ‘backward’ glory with context to your situation and time to truly sit with what you've shared with them, it's like to them you're normal.

I see people gawking at you, maybe because of something you’ve said, but there stands your person, simply waiting for you to continue <3

Have a lovely day <3

Pile 3

This feels like a young/childhood love. Like yall have been around each other for a minute.

What do they see?

Getting goosebumps. This is a ‘rush’ or ‘whirlwind’ of love

I think they've seen you go and grow through a terrible relationship.

When they look into your eyes they see someone who at one point beat themselves down with a proverbial hammer, and with that same hammer built the badass that they know today.

What do they feel?

Ya’ll may be older now or when you get together cuz the vibe just switched.

Like I said, they may have seen you at your best, worst, your most mid; cuz while I was pulling they would pick a card but throw three or four others out at the last minute. They've seen all of you, so naturally it would be hard to sum it up all in one card.

What’s interesting is this person isn't very good with words and yet…

“I've seen you while you were in the wrong, positive you were right. I've seen you confused and unsure of your stance on things concerning your self and well being. I've seen you bloom. Wilt. Sprout. Grow. I was by your side through it all and that's where I'll stay.”

Have a lovely day <3

Pile 4

Goofy ahhh couple!

Yall definitely singing at the top of your lungs together (and one or both of you be on that hoe fr)

What do they see?

First of all, you came out of nowhere. “Like a bolt of lightning.”

This group also might have some age on them cuz the songs and the way I'm dancing to them have 90s bounce to it.

They may have been manifesting you but not like “This is what im manifesting”. More in a way where you're just everything they could ever want in a partner “PEAK partner”

What do they feel?

I felt an immensely grateful energy before I even pulled.

You may have unknowingly freed them from a lot of their fears or maybe helped embrace a part of themselves the world hasn't been very kind to.

They feel free, loved, happy. <3

Have a lovely day <3

[soleilnomoon]

nsfw where y/n accidentally eats an aphrodisiac but zoro doesn't understand what's going on and he just wants to train in peace (but in the end he gives in please)

ahh so sorry this took forever, ty ty for your patience 😊💛 i do love disrupting zoro's peace with nonsense & i had fun writing it; i hope you enjoy <3

2.7k words, fem reader (no pronouns), nsfw, 18+, mdni; a bit of angst, there's some fluff if you pretend that zoro not choking her is fluff, smut shenanigans; feat. zoro being a lil mean (he's a petty bitch when he's jealous im sry), reader being dense and pouty and ridiculous, a wild sanji appears! other cute things like: pussy slapping, oral (f receiving), fingering, yk the vibes.

the last thing you remember, is a small, obnoxious voice in the back of your head saying don’t do it; but the thing is, once you’re told not to do something, you feel that much more inclined to see it all through. it’s sound logic in your opinion, one that you employ whenever — and, more importantly, wherever — you can.

except this time around, you fuck up in a slightly irreparable way.

from an outdated catalog, you order what you assume is an herbal tea to help with sea sickness among other various ailments. and while you can’t exactly pronounce or read most of the names on the ingredients list, you assume that it will be remotely harmless. it’s tea, after all. so, imagine your surprise — once the water is boiled, once the bag has been steeped, once the hot liquid settles in your stomach — when it feels like everything has stared to slow down around you. something shifts inside of you, suddenly it feels as if your body’s been transformed into a gelatinous thing, your organs bouncing against one another, your legs nearly give out when you try to stand up.

naturally, you feel a little off.

it starts again with a small itch underneath your skin; no matter what you do, no matter where you scratch, the itch remains — spreading all over your body, making you wholly too sensitive to touch, which is a fucking shame as your crew mates are always touching one another in some way. you’re not exempt from that, although today you do your best to keep your distance, finding it rather difficult to let anyone’s touch linger for longer than a moment. in the middle of the day, during your quest to avoid your crew mates, you run into sanji — or collide more like — and he reaches out to steady you, as if it’s a regular occurrence for him. which, it is, but that’s not the damn point right now.

you’re in the middle of a crisis.

he grips your shoulders firmly, lips set into a straight line as he checks you over; once he’s satisfied, his playfulness comes back. “where are you running off to?” you choke out a small laugh, one that makes you look less panicked and more like your usual self. he has absolutely no idea that you really do need to run away from him, and you maybe feel a little bad that you’re lying to him — however, in your defense, you’re certain that if you don’t find a way to alleviate that bothersome ache in between your legs, you’ll riot. now, normally, that extreme way of thinking would be cause for concern, but given the circumstances, you’ll forgive yourself for this transgression.

sanji raises a brow at the way you can’t seem to stop fidgeting, your snap your fingers quietly, almost as if you’re trying to ground yourself. he’s unsure why you would feel the need to do that, but he doesn’t press the issue. “i haven’t seen you all day.” his words are harmless, you know that, but he carefully drizzles them onto your skin — slow-moving, honeyed, potentially life-ruining — and they bring an inescapable heat to your body. your self-preservation is practically nonexistent right now; and you know that if you’re not careful, you’ll cross a line and may not survive in the end.

you’re sure this must be some punishment for a crime you committed in a previous life, because it makes absolutely no sense why his hands sliding down your arms makes you want to—

“nowhere,” you blurt out suddenly, cheeks deeply flushed as you shimmy out of his hold, “i’ll… talk to you later.” your words are rushed and jumbled, but you’re beyond caring; you work your legs as fast as you can, hoping sanji won’t think to follow after you. if you had better sense, you wouldn’t have drank the tea without properly investigating it first; but you’re foolish, so very, damn foolish.

something hot rolls over you, making it difficult to think straight; without realizing, your feet take you to the very last person you should be around right now.

everyone knows that when zoro’s training, he’s not to be bothered unless absolutely necessary; yet there you are, disrupting his focus. typical. you pop up behind him breathless, throat dry, chest heaving as if you can’t quite catch your breath — everything about you is clumsy and loud, so he sighs when he turns around to face you.

“what is it?”

you blink slowly and absently lick your lips; his question lingers in the air and circles around you — a solemn vulture, ready to tend to the dead. while normally a lush, vibrant place, your mind goes blank. zoro narrows his eye at you and your newfound silence. it’s suspicious, really — you’re a chatterbox, one that he constantly tells to shut up, albeit this is mostly done out of affection from him — so he’s unsure if this is a trick on your part, but he refuses to participate.

“make it quick, i need to get back to training.”

despite knowing that he really does want you to hurry up, you can’t bring yourself to say anything. not out of fear of upsetting him, but because you’re not sure how he’d react to you telling him the truth. clenching your teeth, you consider your options, rocking a bit on your heels as you look around; again, he thinks you’re being strange and refuses to beat around the damn bush any longer.

“spit it out,” he says gruffly, annoyance buzzing around inside of him. he’s trying to remain as patient as he can, but you’re taking too long and if he lets you have your way, he’ll be standing there all day waiting.

“okay, okay,” you squeak, voice lowering as if you’re afraid of someone hearing you, “there’s something wrong with me.” the words tumble out of your mouth faster than you can manage, making you stutter over them, further confusing the thick-skulled swordsman before you. his frown deepens, and he prompts you to repeat yourself. slowly.

it's his turn to blink at you stupidly. “why would you drink it without knowing what it would do—”

you let out a strangled noise, frustration piling onto your chest the more you talk about this. “i get it, i messed up, can you just help me out?” the flush hasn’t left your cheeks if anything it burns so badly that you refuse to keep eye contact. because the longer you stand near him, the more you struggle with keeping your hands to yourself; the longer he looks at you, the more you want him to see all of you. with a sigh, you explain all of the things that happened to you — in detail, since he insisted and you’re too wound up to fight him on it — which leads him to understand that the tea you drank contained an aphrodisiac of sorts.

why else would the idiot cook even seem remotely interesting to you if that wasn’t the case?

it’s not out of jealousy, he tells himself as he places his swords down carefully; but maybe a part of him likes that you came to him instead of anyone else. he refuses to give it a name and won’t think about this any harder than he already has; he has a feeling that if he lets it fester, it’ll turn him into a lovesick fool — like sanji — and there’s no coming back from that.

somewhere in between his sly smiles and teasing comments, zoro’s presses you against the wall, mouth every bit as sinful as it is disrespectful when he drops a playful kiss on your lips. he’s testing the waters — to see how much you can take before you implode; unfortunately, his experiment is short-lived, you’re already pulling him back, annoyed with his games. you almost tell him to fuck off, but you need him — and you refuse to keep on suffering like this by yourself. your lips are on his rather quickly, soft and eager, tongue flicking against his bottom lip before slipping inside of his mouth.

kissing zoro is a risky endeavor; it’s all-consuming, dizzying, and electrifying at the same damn time. if anyone were to ask you what year or century it was, you wouldn’t have an answer for them. not one that makes any sense, at least. when he slips a hand into your shorts, you turn into putty. your panties soaked, arousal clinging to your skin when he pulls the fabric aside. you should feel mortified at the startled cry you let out when he strokes down your slit, fingers thick and rough, hips rolling forward as you try to tell him to hurry it up. he chuckles at your impatience, which only makes him want to tease you more, but he understands that you’re in a precarious situation — one he’s set on solving right away.

“i know,” he says against your ear, goosebumps prancing along your arms when his fingers rub circles on your pussy, “don’t worry, i’ve got you.” you want to ask him what he means by that, but by the time the question forms in your head and travels to your mouth, zoro’s pulled off your shorts and panties before boldly thrusting his fingers inside of you. with trembling legs, you cling onto his shoulders, press your face against his chest as he thrusts his fingers in and out of your tight hole. the moan you let out is loud enough to rouse the dead —which only encourages zoro to pump his thick fingers faster. he enjoys the way you can’t stop whimpering, and the way that you squeeze around his fingers; that level of desperation arouses him, but he ignores the growing bulge in his pants to take care of you first.

something tells you to keep your voice down, but with how fast zoro’s fingers are fucking you, it’s damn near impossible. and when you place a hand over your mouth to silence yourself, he slaps your pussy in retaliation. you stare at him incredulously, stumbling over your words, hating the way your hips bucked from the force of the slap. zoro, in turn, gives you a dark look, one that fizzles out whatever smartass remark you were ready to give him.

you’re not sure what possesses you, but when he thrusts his fingers back inside of your pussy, thumb rubbing firm circles around your throbbing clit, your head spins, making you say something ridiculous. “s-sanji would’ve nev—” he swallows the rest of your words when he kisses you roughly, teeth tugging on your plump lip. his tongue is commanding, stroking yours with such familiarity that you have to remind yourself that this is real. the kiss is more sensual than necessary, making you forget your point altogether. he knows the only reason why you mentioned the cook is to rile him up, and while it did work, he refuses to let any it fuel his jealousy. he has things to do today, after all.

“if you wanted the damn cook so bad, why did you come to me?” his voice is gravelly and husky, a dangerous combination for you given your current state. you want to tell him that you don’t want sanji, that you want him, but you’re also quite childish and petty at the most inconvenient times. you know, you know, you know. you’ll work on it one day. possibly. he doesn’t expect an answer out of you, especially when he drags his tongue down the length of your neck, nipping and biting your soft skin. you know that once he’s through with you, you won’t be able to face the others for a while.

by the time he inserts a third finger, your skin is littered with dark red marks and his hand is coated in your slick arousal; it trickles slowly with some of your wetness spilling onto his wrist. and since he’s so damn chivalrous, he holds you steady as you thrash against him, hips bucking wildly as you moan his name loudly. you’d forgotten that you were committed to keeping quiet, but with zoro you tend to be louder than necessary. he loves it though; his smirk is proof enough. he pulls his fingers away, much to your disappointment; you pout, grab onto his arms, and ask him why. grinning slyly, he tells you to watch your mouth and kneels before you.

zoro grabs your leg and drapes it over his shoulder, his tongue running flat along your slit, giving your pussy a long lick before dipping inside. you thread your fingers through his short, messy hair, grab the strands roughly, moaning louder, breath coming out in shallow puffs as he devours your pussy. you’ve never known zoro to be a messy eater in general, but the way he messily slurps and licks, flicking his tongue against your clit hard, making you tense and shriek. you’re sure everyone’s heard you by now, but you’ve lost the capacity to care — not while zoro’s eating your pussy like it’s the only meal he’ll consume for a long time. he should probably ease up, and almost considers it until he remembers that you brought up sanji and what he wouldn’t or would do with you.

he slips a finger inside of your needy hole as his tongue circles around your clit. you know you won’t last longer at this rate — it’s a miracle you lasted this long anyway — but he starts sucking on your clit hard and you lose the remainder of your sanity. the orgasm claims most of your life, and your voice is incredibly hoarse by the end of it. zoro works you through the orgasm, finger pumping in and out swiftly, his tongue flicking your clit repeatedly, which only prolongs things. your wetness drips onto his chin, some of it landing on the floor. you’re so embarrassed by it all — by the shameless way you rode his face, by how needy he makes you feel without even trying — and you’d hide your face if zoro wasn’t so busy ruining your life.

“zoro,” you say softly, feeling weak but you still manage to yank on his hair hard enough to catch his attention. when he finally does pull back, he takes a breath and licks your arousal from his lips. he knows that sooner or later he’ll have to take care of his erection — it presses against the front of his pants painfully, and it takes everything in him to just walk away from you — but he’s not done training and he’s wasted enough time as is. you know you shouldn’t ask for more, but the desire to seek him out later grows stronger by the minute. you watch him for a moment, admire the broadness of his shoulders, the thickness of his arms, until you remember that you’re half-naked and that anyone can come in and see you like that.

your embarrassment nearly triples as you trip over yourself trying to get dressed again; your hands shake and your legs can barely hold you up, but you can’t let him see just how much he affects you. you whisper a soft, thank you before taking off. you still feel his lips and hands on your body, and you feel like you’re being burned alive. despite finally finding relief, a different ache plagues you, crawls around your lower abdomen and throbs so much that you decide to sleep the rest of the day away.

with his back turned, he can pretend that he’s composed, even though he’s everything but — he knows there’s no way he can go back to training after he had his fingers and mouth in your cunt. if he were the poetic sort, he’d say it was the highlight of his month, but thankfully he’s not. still, it doesn’t stop him from looking over his shoulder, watching the way you scurry off, hips swaying, ass even more appealing the longer he stares at it. when you’re finally out of sight, he lets out a defeated sigh, internally berating himself for getting too carried away. if he had more discipline, he’d have been able to resist you more — or, that’s the lie he’s going to tell himself until he starts believing it.

[shatcey]

William Rex

William's route was indeed created to be the first. There are a lot of interactions with other characters so you can easily figure out who they are. William explains their curses and abilities, and you can see how they use them in the story. You can see this dark world in the most monochrome shades, and William himself doesn't make it easier for Kate. He wasn't trying to hide anything from her or shelter her… He just let her finally open her eyes.

Yes, he is a charming and funny person who reads people's emotions quite easily. As I mentioned earlier…

And yes, he calls himself selfish, but the more you read the story, the more you doubt it. He doesn't do anything against other people's wishes. The only exception when he judges someone for their crimes. In this case, he is really selfish… He makes a decision and just destroys a person without second thought. And there is something enchanting about his righteousness…

This should not be surprising… his eyes, nails, and even his clothes indicate that red is a natural color for him… For a normal human, killing should be a terrible act, but it's a game… so why not. Gilbert kills everyone who disagrees with him. So Will with his punishments doesn't feel that bad…

On this route, for THE FIRST TIME in all Ikemen games, WE are treated mentally, and not the other way around. Some might say that Will forced Kate to change her way of thinking according to his ideology. Yes, he may be doing it because he likes it, but his intentions are not as selfish as you might expect from him.

Just think about it. We constantly think: "I like to do - no, I shouldn't," "I want to say - no, I shouldn't." We constantly stop ourselves and suppress our desires, dreams and hopes. Yes, the real world doesn't give us a chance to be truly free (this will already be anarchy), but up to a certain point… this is a very healthy way of living.

William teaches Kate to be free. And the more she does as she pleases, the more attention she gets from Elbert. And he knows… not the right word.. he feels that it's beautiful.

I like his life philosophy so very much, except the very gloomy fatalism. And this philosophy of his is so solid and convincing that it makes it disturbingly attractive.

Are you ready to take responsibility for all your actions?…

But, in the end, I'm not really convinced that he loves Kate. Rather, he lets her love him. And considering how much she loves him (I would even call it an obsession), it makes sense. It's like she loves him for both of them. But maybe, just maybe, I cannot read his completely unreadable red eyes)))

I would like to say that I like him… well… at least to me his eyes don't look as creepy as they used to, and I find something charming in his smile… but… I don't know… Something didn't click in me. Let's just say it that way.

[anonymous-chicken-was-taken]

What the Ace Attorney Villains Could Get Charged With (to the best of my research) (in America laws)

Game Two

!Disclaimer! I know nothing about law take this with a grain of salt I was just bored.

Richard Wellington

Assault and battery - Two cases of both. One when he killed Dustin Prince and the second when he hit Phoenix with the fire extinguisher. Though, depending on whether or not Phoenix saw him coming, he could be innocent of the second assault charge. Not the battery, though. I doubt either would count as aggravated assault, as it was the fall, not the fists, that killed Dustin; though Phoenix's is a bit more uncertain due to the weight of the fire extinguisher and the fact that he's only not dead because he's a freak of nature.

Incrimination - He tried to frame Maggey with the name written in the sand.

Obstruction of justice - Can you say "tampering with the crime scene"?

Theft - He stole Phoenix's phone, even if it wasn't technically his intention. It doesn't really matter, since his own phone was likely regarded as evidence. So, theft no matter how you look at it.

Fraud - So much fraud, seeing as he's a con artist. That's what con artistry is. The textbook definition of fraud, all the time, as a job.

Conspiracy - As he was in a GROUP of con artists, his fraud is conspiratorial in nature.

Second-degree murder - He had the intention to kill or severely injure Dustin, but didn't seem to be thinking about it. Thus, no premeditation.

Computer fraud/abuse - Yes, this is an actual thing. When he deletes the contacts off of Phoenix's phone, he's commiting a crime. Doubly so since his actual intention to delete information off of a piece of evidence during a criminal investigation, which may lead to some transferred intent or something.

Perjury

Morgan Fey (includes crimes from Game 3)

Conspiracy - She plans the murder of Dr. Grey with Ini Miney, in depth. Perhaps the most clear-cut case of conspiracy in the series. Also all KINDS of conspiracy in Bridge to the Turnabout.

Obstruction of justice - She did the tampering of the crime scene in Dr. Grey's murder, hiding and fabricating several pieces of evidence regarding Maya.

Incrimination - You know the deal. Frame-ups are incrimination.

Treason - Depending on how you interpret the government in Kurain, she could be guilty of this by committing crimes against the government. I'm trying to figure out what crime she may have committed trying to usurp Maya and Misty, so I may change this later if I figure out something more accurate.

Corruption - If you don't think treason makes sense, then she definitely committed this, regardless. Even without any monarchy, there would have to be some kind of business model for the spirit channeling, which makes her a business executive of sorts, therefore capable of criminal corruption.

First-degree murder - By proxy, when Ini Miney kills Dr. Grey. They planned it together, after all.

Attempted regicide - This is the closest real life law to describe when she tried to kill Maya due to her status. By proxy, of course. If you don't buy the Feys being some kind of pseudo-monarchy, then this is just attempted murder.

Assault and battery - Three charges, by proxy. One for Dr. Grey, one for the drugging of Maya, and one for Dahlia attacking Maya at Hazakura temple. All are aggravated except for the drugging because knife. It's possible some of the assault charges wouldn't go through due to the fact that Dr. Grey and Maya may not have seen the attacks coming.

Child abuse - Her treatment of Pearl could easily be considered this, particularly in the third game when she tries to trick her into murdering her cousin. That's pretty bad parenting.

Perjury

Acro (Ken Dingling)

First-degree murder - The murder was about as planned as you can get without taking it to its logical extreme Manfred-von-Karma-style. Yes, he intended to murder Regina, but transferal of intent is a thing. I'm honestly not sure if the fact that he was intending to kill a child carries over, but if it does, the punishment would be greater.

Obstruction of justice - A bit of a grey area, but he did hide the murder weapon and burn the cape, so I believe this applies.

Child endangerment - This or a similar charge may apply due to his goal to kill a child, by my best estimation. Even if it doesn't, failure to report suspected child abuse can count as child endangerment, and... well, the basically the whole circus was grooming this sixteen year old girl, so...

Incrimination - Depends if you think his framing of Max became intentional at some point along the way, which, considering the fact that he testified against him, it almost definitely did.

Battery - No assault, actually, since Russel didn't see the statue coming! But still battery. Automatically.

Perjury

Matt Engarde (+ Shelly de Killer, by extent)

Conspiracy - He hired an assassin.

First-degree murder - He hired an assassin.

Burglary - Breaking into a place with the intent of committing a felony. While he didn't do this himself, he had Shelly de Killer do it, and anything a hitman does while carrying out the act they were paid to do is a crime the hirer is also guilty of.

Assault and battery - Given Shelly de Killer suffocated Juan and there were signs of a struggle, this is presumably true. Matt is guilty by proxy. Given that we have no idea what he used to kill him, I have no idea if this is aggravated or not.

Fraud - Shelly de Killer pretended to be a bellboy at the hotel. Matt is guilty by proxy.

Blackmail - The ENTIRE case hinges on blackmail in the form of kidnapping Maya. However, he also takes significant steps towards blackmailing Shelly de Killer, so he may actually have two cases of this on his hands.

Kidnapping - This is a bit of a grey area, since it isn't certain that he directly ordered Shelly de Killer to kidnap Maya and use her to blackmail Phoenix. However, given that she was hidden in his house, he seems to know what happened, and he assists by reminding Phoenix of the situation, it's safe to say this was a conspiratorial crime. He's almost DEFINITELY going to be found guilty of this.

Wiretapping - Hiding hidden cameras in a "gift" for someone, as well as around his private residence... wiretapping for sure. Only if the video included audio, though. If not, it doesn't count.

Incrimination - In the plot twist of the century, he's actually guilty of this through conspiring with Phoenix himself. While he did not directly tell him or formulate and communicate the plan to pin the blame on Adrian at first, he did so later and clarified that this was always his intention. While Phoenix has the defense of being blackmailed at the time and the fact that he didn't actually provide any incriminating testimony (perhaps he's accessory?), Matt likely isn't going to be so lucky.

Invasion of privacy - See: wiretapping. Even if the cameras didn't have audio, they'd still be a huge invasion of privacy.

Taking a hostage - A few different names for this depending on where you are, but the basic principle remains the same. This is a separate crime from kidnapping and blackmail, as neither automatically mean a hostage situation. By proxy; even if he weren't conspiring, Shelly still defines this as part of the duties he was paid for, so the whole hired-felony-committing thing still applies.

False imprisonment - This is also not technically the same as a kidnapping charge. Shelly not only moved Maya to a different location against her will (kidnapping), but he also kept her there (false imprisonment). By proxy.

Perjury

GAME ONE

[miracles-and-butterflies]

Posting an old AU, which did later and very loosely inspire my work: Intertwining Threads of Gold.

Allow me to introduce Severed Threads AU.

As this is a really old AU (the second Encanto AU I made after Fracture), it’ll be no surprise to you that’s it’s already completed. No spoilers or withholding information here! So, with that said, I’m just gonna drop the plot below.

Story starts in 1951. (For reference, Casita’s rebuild/the return of the miracle came about at the end of 1950).

With Isabela no longer having to be the golden child, there is a huge question of who will be Alma’s successor. She is leaning towards leaving the matriarchy to her children, the triplets, when she passes but the council talk her out of this. The council want to rule themselves but do respect most people wouldn’t accept a leader outside of the Madrigals, as Pedro was the one who sacrificed himself and it’s their miracle that has made their town a paradise. So… their candidates are limited to the Madrigals.

It doesn’t take them long to settle on Mirabel, as the weakest link, and plan to rule through her.

They easily manage to convince Alma to appoint Mirabel as her successor, who agrees that Mirabel (though will need some training) would be a good candidate. After signing over the rights, she doesn’t tell any of the Madrigals, naturally wanting to wait until Mirabel is older. The only Madrigal who does know is Dolores because of her gift but she is sworn to secrecy.

Though the council did initially plan to just wait for Alma to die, they just get impatient as they realise that may be further away than they first thought because of Julieta’s healing food. They plan to murder her.

Cut to early November. Mirabel is usually away with Dolores at the Guzmáns preparing for her and Mariano’s wedding, which makes her ties with the family distant. The council decide now is the perfect time to strike because Dolores is out of the way. At a party, one of them slips poison into Alma’s glass and she quickly dies over the next few days.

Before the news of Alma’s death can spread through the entire town, the council take Mirabel to the town hall and basically announce the death of her abuela, read out the documents naming her the next town leader and officially make her the next town leader. So… Mirabel is going through a lot. Because what the f—

The death is immediately suspicious to the rest of the Madrigals, as it came out of nowhere. Only made more suspicious by them finding out, through the other townspeople, that Mirabel is now the town leader. They don’t get a moment to ever talk or even see the girl, who is incredibly busy and being pulled like a puppet on strings. The council are purposefully keeping them apart, to keep control over Mira.

Julieta and Bruno are the ones who eventually workout their mother has been poisoned - thought it should be noted that Antonio and Isabela also assisted in this discovery. The news spreads like wildfire through the town and a mob rises up, the Madrigals included, demanding answers and that the person responsible be killed.

Realising this has blown up massively, the council act quickly. They pretty much abandon Mirabel and save themselves. Mirabel is arrested and is to stand trial in the future for her alleged crimes. While under arrest, she is driven “insane” by the lawyers who try to speak with her - they are all being paid off by the council, so they are just trying to make Mirabel confess to being guilty anyway they can.

The council unanimously agree to stand against Mirabel, fishing out any evidence they have and bringing it to court. This also includes the manipulation of Dolores, who agrees to say what they need her to. As she is made to believe that by Mirabel being guilty, she can be saved because of her age.

The trial runs over a couple of days. Mirabel finds out that Dolores is to stand in trial on the last day and plans to an escape (into the prisons garden) to be able to plead with her cousin as she head to court. Which, to her credit, does work. Only Dolores is pulled away and Mirabel never gets any sign that her cousin thinks/knows she’s innocent. Mirabel realises that she is completely screwed; she’s going to die.

Mirabel is found to be guilty and her means of death is left to be decided by the head of the council. As there is no official town leader, the rest of the council are left to make the choice. Based on something Mirabel said when they first made her town leader about Marie Antoinette, they pick beheading. Mirabel dies shortly before her seventeenth birthday.

Julieta becomes the next town leader a few weeks after. The council thought she would be the most controllable after Mirabel, which they were right on.

The family, though shaken over Alma’s death and Mirabel being a murderer, they do slowly fall back to normality and learn to move on. All saving Dolores, who is driven mad by her guilt and frequently claims that Mirabel is haunting her - she is kept in her room for the most part. Only her parents, Julieta and Camilo visit her regularly.

Luisa is also not as easily moved on. She gets pissed when Mirabel’s belongings (that she had in prison) are returned to them, mainly just books. She writes on the front page, mentions nothing about what she did or didn’t do to Abuela - just talks about the book itself.

While complaining to Isabela about it, Isabela points out that Mirabel would have been monitored and probably not allowed to write something so freely as her final words or a message of love. Which gets them both to thinking… how much control did their sister have? Both in prison and before?

They basically become detectives. There’s some breaking and entering, stealing things from the council, trying to make sense of anything Dolores has to say, and ultimately realise that Mirabel is innocent and the council are pieces of shit.

Timeline of events:

Late December 1950 - Casita is rebuilt and the magic returns

1st May 1951 - Alma signs over rights of succession to Mirabel

20th July 1951 - Dolores and Mariano are engaged

2nd September 1951 - Alma is poisoned

4th September 1951 - Alma dies and Mirabel becomes the matriarch

9th/10th September 1951 - Mirabel is arrested

4th November 1951 - first of Mirabel’s trial, she pleads her case

5th November 1951 - second day of Mirabel’s trial

6th November 1951 - final day of Mirabel’s trial, she begs Dolores for help and fails

8th November 1951 - Mirabel is sentenced

13th November 1951 - Mirabel is beheaded, Dolores is the only Madrigal in attendance

1st December 1951 - Julieta becomes the new town leader

Summer 1952 - Isabela and Luisa realise something isn’t right

[darktapufifi]

Felt silly so I decided to write up some lore/info for Billy :)

Space Riders AU (made by @onyxonline)

SillyBilly (Formerly; The Laughing Priest) - Average critter height - He/Any

(I haven't had time to draw my boy so have some temporary gacha versions)

In order:

Off duty uniform

On duty uniform

Underwater uniform

Casual outfit

Sleepwear

Gala events

Have I thought of their powers yet? Nah

will i eventually come up with something perfect and make it cannon permanently? Probably

SillyBilly's history below (its long)

For the longest time, as far back as they can remember, Billy was under the Prototype's control. He was a high bishop in his ranks, always successful on his outings to conquer and convert and spread the word of his god and the promised 'Joyous Heaven', spreading the 'Joy' and red smoke across many planets. He did this all because, at some point, he had grown reliant on the smoke and lost his sense of self; what he knew before of his life was gone, just a subservient pawn for the Prototype. His reign as the 'Laughing Priest' lasted years, with many outside of the cult referring to him as the 'Devil Priest' due to his horns and mannerisms when confronted; his twisted humor and malicious intentions for any Space Rider that drew near were normal for them; however, there was something odd about him: he would never kill.

Unfortunately, it was never meant to last, as one day a Space Riders unit managed to apprehend him and take him back into custody. He was devastated that he lost, stripped of his mask and the red smoke he so desperately needed and locked up for his crimes and for his own safety, as it was clear to everyone around them at that time that they were not of sound mind. He was given help, against his will at first, constantly preaching on about the Prototype and suffering through the withdrawals of the red smoke, but eventually breaking free of the cult mindset, though ultimately being left with nothing, no memories, no past, just his name and his charm—something from his past that reminded him far too much of his time spent under the Prototype's control.

Over the course of a few years, he grew to know himself better, showing improvement and growth, to the point where he openly expressed his desire to help others stuck in the situation he was in, actively wanting to redeem himself for his actions and to right the wrongs in his life. Doing his best despite the prejudice or fear he might face, especially from those who know of his past. He works harder than most and puts in effort above and beyond what is required for every task he does, even if he doesn't take breaks on top of that. He manages to always wear a smile while doing work and to keep a goofy and considerate personality about him, no matter the situation. He is an asset to any crew he joins, keeping the mood high and the tension low. Once the Prototype's pawn, he is now a loyal knight to the Space Riders.

 

Though that's not to say there aren't any lasting effects of his past, when going out on missions, he always has to wear his mask no matter what, as any consumption (inhalation, etc.) would not end well. Despite what many may think, his humor is a way to cope with them, naturally incorporating it into his personality without a second thought. He also suffers from insomnia due to nightmares of his past, which leads him to be an avid coffee drinker, not letting on to anyone about his situation or how he's doing; only a very select few know of his conditions, especially those of the medical staff that worked on his case, and he likes to keep it that way.

(Also additionally, SillyBilly from the past in his Laughing Priest fit for those who read this far <3)

(all of this additional info is being posted to SillyBilly's UnVale page as well)

[cornyonmains]

Guys, when I tell you I've been OBSESSING over the interplay between the phrases 'his beloved son' and 'history is written by the victor' know that I mean it. And here's why.

For a long, long time, I've been trying to figure out what Tankhun's piece on the chessboard is. It just seemed to ridiculously simple to make him the rook and doesn't line up with the other long range attackers Korn placed on the board. Pete as bishop and Porsche as queen were both instrumental in Korn's plot against the minor family, hence their status as long range attackers. Tankhun won't even leave the house, which takes me back to that fucking dialogue, because it stuck in my over-analyzing craw.

Now, there's a few things in this exchange that jumped out to me, with the first being Tankhun's face when he uttered the words 'his beloved son'.

My horny on main masses of the KP fandom, does this look like the face of a son celebrating a victory with his father? Or is it the face of a man celebrating a victory against his father?

Well, I know I've got my opinion, so buckle in kids. It's about to be a ride.

The next thing worth pointing out is our jump to Korn's room, where if we follow the established pattern of green meaning danger, we're about to get ourselves some pretty heavy-handed messaging:

Now, a few things happened in this scene. The first is that Korn responded with 'History is only written by the victor'. He didn't say victors, as in the plural, he said VICTOR. I actually tried to include this photo with the words, but for some reason Tumblr decided to scoot them all to the right in this very unsightly way, but what's important is we have a visual of what's happening in the background.

You see the green Mr. Belvedere era lamp casting an eerie green glow on that bronze statuette of the violinist? You know who else played the violin? Kinn, in the Filmania version of KinnPorsche. Also pictured are the two fighting fish housed in completely unacceptable bowls, which is really going to play into the symbolism of where Korn FUCKED UP as I continue this long winded and convoluted rant.

Now something we've all been asking is why these bodyguards never wear bulletproof vests, why they're given all this training, all this great equipment, but no safety gear. Well, if Korn's staying true to his 'survival of the fittest' philosophy, the idea that competition breeds strength, then it makes sense he'd only want to keep the bodyguards most capable of survival around. And THIS is where we see Korn's first real weakness as a strategist.

The thing about 'survival of the fittest' is that people don't understand that it doesn't mean the survival of the biggest bads of the animal world. And if you doubt my word, may I present exhibit A of this desperate misunderstanding of that concept made manifest:

Like seriously? How do these dorks exist?

And the answer is because they adapted traits that would allow them to best REPLICATE in nature, not conquer it.

So with all this in mind, doesn't it stand out to you that Tankhun's bodyguards are really the only scarce few to survive? That Tankhun has a care for keeping them safe and alive? He clearly demonstrated this in his own way with Pete. There are subtle moments, subtle indications, that he's in fundamental disagreement with his father's philosophy.

Something else that stuck in my head was how quick and seamlessly he brought up his brothers with Chay, even going so far as to offer a visual aid, which most people don't do when they mention they have siblings. I think Tankhun knew about Kim and Chay, and that blowing up Kim's spot was a calculated move. And why was it calculated?

Because I think Tankhun knows that Korn wants Kim to take over the main family. That Korn has a deranged philosophy of pitting the family against one another to breed the strongest possible leaders for his empire, and that Kinn's life is in mortal fucking danger, for the crime of caring about his brothers enough to step up and do a job they didn't want to do. I think Tankhun knew Korn faked his death and was using it not only to draw out gun, but to get Kinn out of the way as well. Korn drove a wedge between him and Porsche to separate them, I think Korn was the one who told Kim where Chay was to keep him out of the final showdown, and I think he did that specifically to keep Kim from protecting Kinn, and Tankhun KNEW this.

But the thing about survival of the fittest is that while Korn might be a psychopath, his kids aren't. Korn's biggest weakness is he couldn't replicate himself in his sons, and that's why Tankhun sent him that text. He was telling his father, "You're the one who's weak. You're the one whose being is not worth replicating. Your lack of love is your weakness and I'm going to show you why."

Tankhun knows so much more than he lets on, and that's when it hit me. Tankhun isn't any piece at all. Tankhun is the invisible player on the other side of the board that Korn's REALLY playing against, but he's out to save all the pieces he captures.

Meanwhile, while the fish in separate bowls may be symbolic of a lull in the fighting, there's still two fish left, so Korn's giving them a break while he plots his next move. The trouble is, much like fish living in two separate tanks, raised to kill each other, his ideas are never going to breed, and that is where Korn's fundamental understanding of survival of the fittest being about strength rather than replication is going to fuck him over.

[queer-geordie-nerd]

I talk about Mira a lot, and I’m doing so again 🤷🏻‍♀️

She was a beautiful woman, and a powerful and talented actor and writer, no doubt, but much more importantly, I feel, she was also a woman of vast and deep integrity - she fought against injustice and nationalism/racism all of her life and her principled and public stance against the war and ethnic divisions in Yugoslavia cost her dearly and yet, it was a position she never ever moved away from and believed in profoundly. It is very easy to have principles when they are not being tested, and another thing entirely to stake your very life on those principles.

Even when her stance cost her her home, her career, and her friendships, and the enormous amount of threats against her life forced her to leave her country, she never once backed down from her belief in unity and cooperation.

The anti war essay she wrote and published as she fled is still one of the most powerful pieces of writing I’ve ever read and I am going to post it here in its entirety because it is fierce and amazing:

Letter to my co-citizens

I hereby wish to thank my co-citizens who have joined so unreservedly in this small, marginal, and apparently not particularly significant campaign against me. Although marginal, it will change and mark my whole life. Which is, of course, totally irrelevant in the context of the death, destruction, devastation, and blood-chilling crimes within which our life now goes on.

This is happening, however, to the one and only life I have. It seems that I’ve been chosen for some reason to be the filthy rag everyone uses to wipe the mud off their shoes. I am far too desperate to embark on a series of public polemics in the papers. I do, however, feel that I owe myself and my city at least a few words. Like at the end of some clumsy, painful love story, when you keep wanting, wrongly, to explain something more, even though you know at the bottom of your heart that words are wasted; there is no one left to hear them. It is over.

Listening to my answering machine, to the incredible quantities of indescribably disgusting messages from my co-citizens, I longed to hear at least one message from a friend. Or not even a friend, a mere acquaintance, a colleague. But there was none. Not a single familiar voice, not a single friend. Nevertheless, I am grateful to them, to those noble patriots who kindly promise me a “massacre the Serbian way”; and to those colleagues, friends, and acquaintances who, by remaining silent, are letting me know that I cannot count on them any more.

I am grateful also to all my colleagues in the theatre with whom I played Drzic, Moliere, Turgenev, and Shaw, I am grateful to them for their silence, I am grateful to them for not even trying to understand, let alone attempting to vindicate, my statement concerning my appearance at the BITEF Festival in Belgrade, the statement in which I tried to explain that taking part in that production at that moment was for me a defense of our profession which must not and cannot put itself in the service of any political or national ideas, which must not and cannot be bound by political or national limits because it is simply against its nature, which must, even at the worst of times, establish bridges and ties. In its very essence it is a vocation which knows no boundaries.

I know that all this talk about the cosmopolitanism of art seems inappropriate at a moment like this. I know that it may seem out of place to swear to pacifism, to swear to love and to the brotherhood of all peoples while people are dying, while children are dying, while young men are returning home crippled and mangled forever.

How can I say anything which won’t sound like an ill-fitted nonsense at the moment when, for absolutely unfathomable reasons, Dubrovnik is being threatened, the city where I played my favorite role, Gloria?

But I have no other way of thinking. I cannot accept war as the only solution, I cannot force myself to hate, I cannot believe that weapons, killing, revenge, hatred, that such an accumulation of evil will ever solve anything. Each individual who personally accepts the war is in fact an accessory to the crime; must he not then take a part of the guilt for the war, a part of the responsibility?

In any case, I think, I know and I feel that it is my duty, the duty of our profession, to build bridges. To never give up on cooperation and community. Not the national community. The professional community.

The human community. And even when things are at their very worst, as they are now, we must insist to our last breath on building and sustaining bonds between people. This is how we pledge to the future.

And one day it will come. For my part, until recently I was willing to endure all manner of problems in transportation, communication, and finances to trek the 20 hours across Austria and Hungary between Zagreb and Belgrade. I was willing to use risky, even dangerous modes of travel, just to keep holding my performances in the two warring cities, to appear at precisely 7:30 on stage with my Zagreb or Belgrade colleagues and to alternate Corneille and Turgenev for the sake of professional continuity, for the sake of something that would outlive this war and this hatred which is so foreign to me. Time and time again I was willing to make my life a symbol of a pledge to the future which must be waiting for us, until that day when some ardent patriot finally does slaughter me as so many have promised to do.

I was willing and I would still be willing to undertake all and any efforts, if the hatred hadn’t suddenly overwhelmed me with its horrendous ferocity, hatred welling from the city I was born in. I am appalled by the force and magnitude of that hatred, by its perfect unanimity, by the fact that there was absolutely nobody who could see my gesture as my defense of the integrity of the profession, as my attempt to defend at least one excellent theatre performance. I had no intention of acting further in performances outside the BITEF Festival, as I stated in my letter. BITEF as an international theatre event attended by the English, Russians, French, Belgians, and even one Slovene seemed to me worth participating in, especially because any decision not to participate would have meant betraying a performance I had worked on under the most difficult circumstances during the March 9th Belgrade tanks, daily threats of a military coup, etc., etc.

It is terribly sad when one is forced to justification without having done anything wrong. There is nothing but despair, nausea, and horror.

I no longer have any decisions to make. Others have decided for me.

They have decided I must shut up, give up, vanish; they have abolished my right to do my job the way I feel it should be done, they have abolished my right to come home to my own city, they have abolished my right to return to my theatre and act in my performances. Someone decided that I should be fired from my job. Thank you, Croatian National Theatre; thank you, my colleague Dragan Milivojevic, who signed my dismissal slip. I know that lots of people are losing jobs, that I am just one of many, simply part of a surplus work force. I constantly ask myself whether I have any right, at this moment of communal horror, to make any demands of my own. One thing seems certain: I plan for quite some time (how long?) not to perform on any stage in this crumbling, mangled land. Perhaps they needn’t have hurried so in firing me. Perhaps this would have simply taken care of itself. With more decency. And dignity. Not so crudely. Of course, this is not a moment for tenderness. But won’t someone out there have to be ashamed of this? And will this someone necessarily be me, as my fellow actors try to convince me in their orthodox interviews? Can the horror of war be used as a justification for every single nasty bit of filth we commit against our fellow man? Are we allowed to remain silent in the face of injustice done to a friend or a colleague and justify our silence by the importance of the great bright national objective? I ask my friends in Zagreb, who are now silent, while at the same time they condemn Belgrade for its silence.

It is hard to write without bitterness. I would like to be able to do that, because we should “Love Our Enemy.” I wish we all could. Herein perhaps lies the solution for all of us. But I fear that we are very far from the ways of the Lord. His is the way of love. Not hatred.

To whom am I addressing this letter? Who will read it? Who will even care to read it? Everyone is so caught up by the great cause that small personal fates are not important any more. How many friends do you have to betray to keep from committing the only socially acknowledged betrayal, the betrayal of the nation? How many petty treacheries, how many pathetic little dirty tricks must one do to remain “clean in the eyes of the nation?”

I am sorry, my system of values is different. For me there have always existed, and always will exist, only human beings, individual people, and those human beings (God, how few of them there are !) will always be excepted from generalizations of any kind, regardless of events, however catastrophic. I, unfortunately, shall never be able to “hate all Serbs,” nor even understand what that really means. I shall always, perhaps until the moment the kind threats on the phone are finally carried out, hold my hand out to an anonymous person on the “other side,” a person who is as desperate and lost as I am, who is as sad, bewildered, and frightened. There are such people in this city where I write my letter, the city my love took me to, a feeling it seems almost indecent to mention these days. Nothing can provide an excuse any more, everything that does not directly serve the great objective has been trampled upon and appears despicable, and with it what love, what marriage, what friendship, what theatre performances!

I reject, I refuse to accept such a crippling of myself and my own life. I played those last performances in Belgrade for those anguished people who were not “Serbs”; but human beings, human beings like me, human beings who recoil before this monstrous Grand Guignol farce in which dead heads are flying. It is to these people, both here and there, that I am addressing my words. Perhaps someone will hear me.

The punishment meted me by my city, my only city and my theatre, my only theatre, the only theatre I felt was mine, is a punishment I feel I do not deserve. I was working in the way I have always felt I had to work, believing in people and our vocation which is supposed to bring people together, not tear them apart. I will never “give up my Belgrade friends”; as some of my colleagues have, because I do not feel that these friends have in any way brought about this catastrophe which has afflicted us, just as I will not turn my back on my Zagreb friends, not even those who have turned their backs on me. I will try in every way possible to understand their panic, their fear, their bitterness, even their hatred, but I plead for the same dose of understanding for me, that is, for a story which is different than many others, for a life which has deviated, due to the so-called destiny, from the expected and customary. Why must everything be the same, so frighteningly uniform, leveled, standardized? Haven’t we had enough of that? I know this is the time of uniforms and they are all the same, but I am no soldier and cannot be one. I haven’t got it in me to be a soldier, soldiering just isn’t my calling.

Regardless of whether we will be living in one, or five, or fifty states, let us not forget the people, each individual, regardless of which side of this Wall of ours the person happens to be on. We were born here by accident, we are this or that by accident, so there must be more than that, mustn’t there?

I am sending this letter into a void, into darkness, without an inkling of who will read it and how, or in how many different ways it will be misused or abused. Chances are it will serve as food for the eternally hungry propaganda beast. Perhaps someone with a pure heart will read it after all.

I will be grateful to that someone.

Mira Furlan,

From Belgrade and Zagreb, November 1, 1991.