#but when one side is genuinely claiming with no evidence or argument that being against colonial occupation is just antisemitism

[biblicalhorror]

The most frustrating part of engaging in any of this discourse with pro-Israel people is that they claim there's just something ineffable about "seeing and understanding" how supporting Palestinian liberation is directly calling for the eradication of Jewish people (as if that type of rhetoric isn't exactly how actual antisemitism often manifests in online spaces but that's a topic for another day)

They get through people debunking the "the land belongs to the people of Israel anyway" argument and the "LGBTQ Palestinians are safe in Israel" argument and the "Genocide isn't what's happening here so you should educate yourself" argument and when all of those points are meticulously disproven over and over they still stand with "Well, myself and your Jewish friends see the hate you have in your heart for us" and it truly doesn't matter what you say at that point because even if you yourself are Jewish they will claim that refusing to support the state, government and military of Israel is inherently hateful and bigoted, as if a religious ethnostate is some inherent human right that is being taken away from them. I know many of them are blinded by the relentless propaganda that's been around their whole lives and how hard it is to break free from a belief system that is so tied to your core identity as a human being but it is so frustrating watching people being led straight to the point over and over again and just turning around and refusing to see it.

It's also so frustrating to see people using the momentum of this movement to casually tack on actual antisemitism to these discussions, as if having Jewish people in positions of power is why the US bends over backwards to excuse the actions of Israel and not, yknow, the fact that our government directly benefits from having a military stronghold in the middle east. I've talked to some well-meaning pro-Palestine friends irl who casually use antisemetic talking points because they've ALSO bought into the narrative that Israeli = Jewish and so they blame the actions of Israel and the IDF on Jewish people's "religious values" and ignore the fact that this conflict really has almost nothing to do with religion itself and everything to do with capitalism, imperialism and maintaining the US's status as a so-called "global power".

[moonlightdancer26]

I genuinely have no clue where this fandom gets the idea that James and Snape were rivals. The definition of rivalry is competition for the same objective or for superiority in the same field.

If James and Snape were rivals, as many like to call them, what were they competing for?

Lily?

No. Snape and Lily were best friends, years before James and Snape even met. And Lily is not a “prize to be won” which many people—including James, as we see in SWM—fail to understand.

Their studies? [I’m including this because I’ve actually seen someone try to use this argument before]

No. That had nothing to do with their feud. And James and Snape excelled in different subjects. Snape was brilliant at potions and DADA. James was highly knowledgeable in transfiguration.

Unlike Harry and Draco (who were rivals when it came to Quidditch), James and Snape had nothing you could argue they were “competing over.”

Another important thing many people seem to forget about rivalries is that it means equality. Rivals’ statuses/dynamics are meant to be balanced. Does that apply to Snape and James?

James Potter: was a rich, well-groomed, spoiled pureblood Gryffindor.

Severus Snape: was a poor, unattractive, neglected half-blood Slytherin.

It can only ever be called a rivalry when both sides are equally powerful, which cannot be said for James and Snape whatsoever.

A huge reason as to why people like to call it that is because Snape apparently “gave as good as he got” (I like how there was not a single time that phrase was ever used in the series). They use a line said by Remus—one of Snape’s bullies, funnily enough—in OoTP as evidence of Snape’s supposed fighting back:

“Snape was a special case. I mean, he never lost an opportunity to curse James, so you couldn’t really expect James to take that lying down, could you?”

To a majority of this fandom, never losing an opportunity (opportunity: a time or set of circumstances that makes it possible to do something, Remus never said anything about Snape succeeding all the time) to curse James—who, in the author’s words, relentlessly bullied Snape for the past six years—in their 7th year (one year) meant “giving as good as he got” and automatically cancels out everything James did to Snape for the six years before that.

Demonising Snape for wanting to get back at James after being subjected to bullying, assault, and even attempted murder (the werewolf prank) for years is complete and utter victim-blaming. If the victim fights back, it is to be called self-defence, not “bullying back” (there is no such thing anyway) or a rivalry. Acting as though in order to be a “good victim”—whatever that’s supposed to mean—you have to take the bullying lying down, and if you defend yourself, you’re reclassified as the bad guy, is genuinely disgusting to me. If a woman were to defend herself against her assaulters, would she be in the wrong, would that negate what the assaulters did to her?

The pro-bullying and victim-blaming attitude that comes from this fandom is revolting. Defending oneself does not alter the dynamic from a person with more power bullying a victim to a rivalry between two equals. When will people learn to understand that?

And besides, there is absolutely nothing to back up Remus’s claim. In fact, there is more evidence that he was lying:

Remus makes it sound like Snape would just come up to James randomly and just hex him there and then. If he did, don’t you think Lily would’ve found out? Or at the very least the Hogwarts staff? That very much suggests that it was James who initiated these fights.

The Marauders had the cloak of invisibility, a map that could track Snape and everyone at Hogwarts’ every move, and the two-way mirror. What did Snape have?

Why would James hide it from Lily? If he was truly innocent and was the one being hexed senseless, he obviously would not have hidden it from her. What would he even have to hide if that were the case? It’s clear that he knew he was in the wrong and that Lily would have never gotten with him had she known what he was doing behind her back.

Remus is canonically a liar, who lied to Harry many times, especially about Snape. Why does this fandom act like his words about the person he used to bully should be trusted?

Moving on, none of the Marauders’ reasons for bullying Snape exactly scream rivalry:

James himself stated that he bullied Snape because he exists.

Remus called it “an old prejudice” when he and Harry talked in HBP, casting the Marauders as bigots (especially when you remember that Snape was a Slytherin whom they bullied because of his existence).

Sirius (in GoF) claimed that “Snape was just this little oddball who was up to his eyes in the Dark Arts.”

In SWM, we are shown that the reason James and Sirius attacked Snape—who was minding his own business—was because Sirius was bored, meaning they had done it for fun.

Lily claimed that James walked down corridors and hexed anyone who annoyed him “just because he can.”

Sirius claimed that “we [the Marauders] were sometimes arrogant little berks.”

Tell me, does this seem like a rivalry to you?

[cackled0g]

{Image ID: A reply by user ikishima. The text reads: "maybe its (sic) because you can literally search (transandrophobia) and see people lay out exactly why its (sic) transmisogynistic and no one needs to spoon feed you this information. but have fun using a term coined by someone with a fetish for raping lesbians I guess"}

For context, the post this user was replying to is this one

Well first off, I think it's a rude assumption to make that I haven't researched a term that I use near daily to explain traumas that I have personally faced. I have actually, believe it or not, researched transandrophobia. I've looked at both sides of the issue, and it has consistently been the side that is against a good faith term for a marginalized group's oppression that has been lacking in good arguements. Let's go over a few of the most common ones I've seen.

a.) The coiner, Saint, has been accused of having a corrective rape fetish. I have seen screenshots to verify that he has engaged with that, but from my understanding it was a password protected nsfw blog where he engaged with it and similar fetishes with his partner, who was a trans feminine person who had said fetishes. I don't know either of the people involved and haven't found any good sources leaning either way on that situation except for one callout document that has been accused of being bad faith and factually false. Like I've said, I don't know anyone involved in that whole situation so I can't say I have an opinion on it one way or the other until I have better evidence to go off of. Regardless of whether Saint is or is not a horrible shitty person though, I don't think he has full claim to the word "transandrophobia" and certainly not the concept behind it--the specific combination of transphobia and antimasculinism that primarily transmasculine folks face. The word is just the combination of the the words 'transphobia', the hatred of trans people, and 'androphobia', the fear or hatred of men, and I know that I at least stumbled across it before I ever knew who Saint was. It's simply the most popular term, aside from transmisandry, which I also use regularly. For trigger tagging purposes and general tagging purposes, it's the most widely used term and also has the most theory and good faith debate behind it from what I've seen

b.) The term 'transandrophobia' is inherently transmisogynistic because it copies the same formula used for the word 'transmisogyny', a word describing the intersection of transphobia and misogyny that primarily transfeminine people face. I don't find this a very compelling argument personally. First off, I'm not aware of if the term was in fact based off of the word transmisogyny, as the convention of "oppression"+" oppression "= "word for combined or intersectional oppression" isn't new or particularly controversial (see: misogynoir) when applied to other forms of oppression.

c.) The idea that transmasculine people are punished for their masculinity and not only their transness is inherently transmisogynistic because ???. I genuinely don't get this one honestly. Even if it were true that marginalized men weren't punished for their masculinity, which it isn't (see: black men bearing the brunt of police violence, the way that ast Asian men are hypersexualized by euro-american women, the way that all Asian men are desexualized by euro-american people) I don't see how that "false" belief being held is an intersection of transphobia and misogyny.

d.) Trans men don't need a word for their oppression because they don't face a unique oppression. This is demonstrably false. Many recent laws restricting HRT in the UK and United States have been actively targeting trans men. JK Rowling, the TERF surpreme, wrote an essay that extensively talked about trans men, books like 'Irreversible Damage' are explicitly about trans men 'ruining their bodies'. If that isn't blatantly transandrophobic then what is?

Of course, if anyone has any sources or additions feel free to drop them below or DM me. Engaging in good faith is highly encouraged, including from the person I'm responding to. I also may add on to this post later with more common anti-transandrophobia arguments as I think of them.

[papirouge]

Genuine question. Why is it good that Depp won? I heard he was also very abusive and that this trial wasn’t even over abuse, but over her saying she was abused (without saying it was him). But I admit I haven’t cared enough to research this. Is there something I’m missing?

I wouldn't say it's "good" but...I'm not surprised by the outcome. Beside hysterical radfem and pro Amber echo chambers, it was acknowledged that many elements of her evidence didn't add up which weakened her defense. So I guess it's...."fair"(?)

It's important to note that this trial was a defamation case, so in no way does it say that Depp is "innocent", just that Heard lied in her claims, hence defamation. Nothing more, nothing less. It doesn't say whether Heard or Depp never been abusive. There's this twitter post floating around saying people "fought for her to not being able to speak about this abuse" and that there was nothing positive to it, but such statement is willingly misguiding, because speaking about one's abuse and defamation aren't the same thing. Just because one has been abused doesn't mean they can say anything without consequence. That's why projecting this trial onto every DV victim is lowkey manipulative too, because not every DV victim is gonna put out her case out in the open in a tabloid magazine for the whole world to see - taking the risk of getting their butt bite back by the justice. This whole narrative is straight up femdoompiller fearmonger propaganda at this point. ....Not surprising from radfem with a complex of martyrdom.

It's funny to see how both side are equally pissed at the idea of "mutual abuse" btw lol Especially Heard defenders. Is it still "trauma defense" when you're actively pursuing your abuser to humiliate them?🤔 threatening to harm yourself if they leave you?🤔 gaslighting them that you didn't "beat", but just "hit"them?🤔 A handful of cherry-picked "specialists" saying "mutual abuse is a myth" doesn't absolve the fact that harming someone out of retaliation shouldn't be exempt of legal consequences. A crime is a crime. Period. This black and white thinking of what defines a victim (=a victim cannot lie and/or should have to bear with the consequences of their acts) is appaling.... You can be a VICTIM of defamation while being an abuser. You can be a victim of DV while being yourself abusive. I don't understand why it's so hard to grasp for both Depp & Heard stans. The parallelism between them is quite fascinating too - I already said how pro Amber arguments could be used by Depp stans against Heard (guilt by association, "being violent doesn't mean you're an abuser"/tRauMa deFeNsE, victim shaming, "you only defend her because she's hot and famous!!", character trial (drug addiction), history of abuse with exes, or "i refuse to trust the trial because a/b/c" ok Stacie, then don't be shook when people defend convicted abusers because they refuse to believe the sentence too🙄. SEE?? that's how you know these people don't use their brain and only biased emotionalism. That's why their defense is so flawed. Never use talking points that your enemy will use against you!!

Both pro Depp and pro Heard behaved horribly anyway. But radfem truly showed they ugly butt by behaving so horribly with girls just bc they sided with Depp, calling their names and all. They delude themselves into thinking they're on the right side of History by white knighting a female celebrity they never met or interacted with out of #femalesolidarity but they're right there bullying girls next door on the regular..... Harrassing young girls will never NOT be disgusting. NO ONE care if you standed with Monica Lewisnki Britney or Heard since day 1 if you can't behave like a decent human being with girls you interact with just because you dislike their opinion. Stop acting like you were a paragon of virtue and #feminism when you're out there SENDING DEATH THREAT to YOUNG GIRLS. You have literally no room to look down on TikToker joking about being aroused by Heard's abuse while wishing girls to be abused like Depp did to Amber. You are vile and disgusting, and the only thing History will remember is your own toxicity. Do better and stop telling girl to kill themselves just because you're pissy about a trial.

Good for Heard for appealing though. If she's been abused she deserves justice, hopefully she gets better evidence and her story straight. This trial surely humbled her and I wish she'll finally get peace ; no one deserves what she had to bear with (yes, even if she's an abuser). I wish Depp to fight his demons, stop the drugs, get to God and rebuke Marilyn Manson in the name of Jesus. Amen.

[nat-20s]

for @jonmartinweek day 8! (which I definitely realized was happening and for sure did not forget lmao). The prompt was free day/au, so I picked my own theme of “pets”. The last few fics have been pretty loaded, so please enjoy some pure post canon (literal and figurative) fluff

~*~

“I can’t believe I married a dog person.”

They weren’t even supposed to be in the shelter. They had made no plans to visit a shelter. However, as Jon has been learning over the course of the past couple years, a Martin not under duress and given free time outside will inevitably end up trying to befriend any living nonhuman creature in the immediate vicinity.

“I’m not a dog person.”

“The lapful of beagle puppy would indicate otherwise.”

“Just because I appreciate the company of a very good boy, yes you are, doesn’t mean I’m a dog person. Dog person implies I have a preference. I like cats equally as much as I like dogs. Unlike some of us, my heart is open to all manner of furry friends.”

“I don’t...hate dogs.”

“Uh-huh. Is that why you won’t pet Rufio here?”

“He’s nippy, I don’t trust him. And it’s just that dogs are A Lot. I find most of them a bit overwhelming. And needy.”

“Pff, that’s no excuse. You’ve been best friends with overwhelming, and you married needy.”

Martin lets out a distracted giggle as Rufio finally gets in a lick on his face. Okay, maybe it is a pretty adorable sight, but that’s hardly sufficient enough evidence to actually let such an energetic ball of fluff into their home. Still, it’s enough to convince Jon to sit down next to them, and give Rufio a very tentative scritch behind the ears. “I think we both qualify as the needy one in our relationship.”

“Pretty sure that’s called codependency. What would our therapist say?”

“She’d probably say that’s a bit harsh. And that we still need to work on our separation anxiety.”

“Hey, you know what helps with separation anxiety?”

“No.”

“A dog!”

“No!”

They get a dog. Their flat is decently sized and they both have steady incomes and enough free time between them to take proper care of her. They don’t get Rufio, but instead a 7 year old mutt named Daffodil who is, admittedly, the most gentle and sweet creature Jon’s ever met. They also get a cat, a rambunctious 2 year old tabby named Jack (“We can change the name.” “Jon! How dare you! Jack responds to his name, clearly he likes it!”) who had already decided Daffodil was his mom, and they couldn’t possibly bear not adopting them together.

~*~

“You know, we could get a tarantula.”

“Fuck off.”

“I’m serious! They’re not, like, evil in this universe, and some of them have cutest little pink toesie woesies.”

“You’re not serious, you’re being a bastard, and I hate you.”

Martin wraps his arms around Jon’s waist and presses a kiss to the side of his face, which Jon gives a half-hearted swat at, because, again, the man’s being a bastard. Stubbornly ignoring Jon’s pout, Martin presses his cheek to the top of Jon’s head, cheerfully replying, “I’m fine with that, as long as you promise to hate me for the rest of our lives.”

“Well, I certainly can’t make that promise. I won’t even hate you ten seconds from now. I suppose you’ll have to settle for love instead.”

“Hmm. Deal.”

“We’re still not getting a fucking tarantula.”

They do not get a tarantula. Their home remains admirably spider free.

~*~

Martin’s gasp is loud enough to echo, and Jon can feel him begin to vibrate next to him. The excitement is perplexing at first, they’ve been to this bookstore dozens of times, and it’s never elicited this sort of response. Then Jon looks over to the front counter, where a medium-sized cage and a “For adoption” sign have been put on display. With a wild, jubilant glee, Martin asks, “Sonja! Are those baby. Dumbo. Rats?!”

“Sure are! I’ve got a friend who’s a breeder, I take it you’re interested?”

“Yes, absolutely, 100%, we’re getting two immediately.”

“Well…”

Martin snaps his head over to look at Jon with a look of betrayal the likes of which Jon hasn’t seen since the panopticon. “Jonathan, no!”

“Um.”

“You can not tell me you you don’t like rats! Dumbo rats especially!”

“I…”

Ticking off on his fingers, Martin lists, “They’re adorable, they’re smart, they’re cleanly, they’re extremely empathetic, they’re tickilish, which is stupidly cute, they can be trained to use a litter box and do tricks, they’re snuggly and playful and perfect! They’re all the good parts of dogs combined with the best parts of cats in one tiny portable package! Look at their little ears, that are like that because of a slight difference in skull shape that has no negative health effects! Plus, we can set them up in the project room, since Captain Jack isn’t allowed in there anyway. How can you dislike rats?”

“I don’t know! They just sort of..freak me out. Or not all of them, just their feet. I don’t like their little man hands.”

Martin throws his arms in the air, proclaiming, “Their little man hands are one of their best qualities! Look, Jon, are you genuinely afraid of them, or just slightly discomfited?”

“I would say mediumly discomfited. This isn’t like spiders.”

“Cool. ‘Cause in that case, we’re getting the light tan one and the solid white one, their names shall be Peaches and Cream, and you will love them as much as you love our dog and cat children.”

“That’s a rather bold claim.”

“It’s an accurate one. You’ll see.”

Within a week, Jon is transporting Peaches ‘n’ Cream in the pocket of his hoodie, and he can feel Martin’s smug aura from two rooms away. Damn him.

~*~

“Did you know snakes don’t have an amygdala?”

“Okay? You didn’t have to bring me to a reptile store to tell me that.”

“I didn’t bring you to a reptile store to tell you that. I brought you to a reptile store because I want to hold a cornsnake.”

Jon rolls his eyes, but the fondness in his voice somewhat undercuts it. “Of course you do.”

Martin makes a scaly acquaintance in less than two minutes, and as the snake coils around his fingers, he continues, “Anyway, if they don’t have amygladas, do they feel fear in a way similar to us, or is it only a recognition of threats and instinctual response?”

“Martin, my love, I have no idea. Is this going somewhere? It’s fine if not, I’m just checking in.”

“Yes. Because if they don’t feel fear, I’m getting this snake and naming her Georgie.”

That makes Jon let out a sharp bark of laugh, and, for a moment, he’s able to reminisce without any pain. “You know, I think she’d actually love that? She also had a proclivity for all creatures great and small. And a terrible sense of humor.”

“Wow, you really have a type, huh. Also hey! My sense of humor is fantastic! It always makes my husband laugh, and he has very exacting standards.”

“Liar. Your husband finds joy with you at the slightest provocation, no good sense of humor needed.”

“Hmm. He is a bit of a softie, isn’t he? Which is why he’ll let me get this snake.”

“He most certainly will not.”

“But….look at her….”

“It’s not a matter of how cute she is, dear. It’s a matter of you made us get pet rats less than a month ago, there’s absolutely no way you’re going to be able to feed mice to a snake.”

Martin looks at the cornsnake, looks at Jon, looks back, and his shoulders slump. With a wince, he asks, “Maybe frozen mice won’t be too bad?”

“What if she’s picky?”

“...There are species of snake that only eat bugs.”

“Cornsnakes aren’t one of them.”

Waving over an assistant, Martin puts the cornsnake back with a defeated, “Fine. When you’re right, you’re right.”

Jon doesn’t particularly feel like he’s won an argument. In fact, he’s a bit disappointed himself, he always liked snakes. Big fan of reptiles in general, actually, which is probably what drives him to say, “Lizards don’t usually eat mice.”

That’s how they walk out of the store with three leopard geckos.

~*~

Jon’s helping Martin set up the gecko tank in what can now be affectionately called a zoo when all of the sudden it strikes him. Some of the animals in their home right now have life spans of 10-20 years, and never once had the necessary longevity of care come up as a reason to protest against them. Jon had felt so at ease with the concept of a future that he hadn’t even thought about it, hadn’t been steeling himself for the other shoe to drop. He’s stopped having bated breath every time something good happens, instead taking reassurance in a sense of permanence that he wasn’t sure he’d ever feel again. Martin must hear his breath hitch, because he immediately stops what he’s doing to take Jon’s hand into his own. “Something wrong, love?”

Jon shakes his head. “No, nothing. I suppose I’m realizing that we have time, don’t we?”

Martin must know exactly what he means, the weight behind the words, because he brings Jon’s hand to his lips and says, “Yes. Yes, we really, really do.”

[qqueenofhades]

Hi. You made a post a couple of days ago about how queer historical fiction doesnt need to be defined only by homophobia. Can you expand on that a bit maybe? Because it seems interesting and important, but I'm a little confused as to whether that is responsible to the past and showing how things have changed over time. Anyway this probably isn't very clear, but I hope its not insulting. Have a good day :)

Hiya. I assume you're referring to this post, yes? I think the main parameters of my argument were set out pretty clearly there, but sure, I'm happy to expand on it. Because I'm a little curious as to why you think that writing a queer narrative (especially a queer fictional narrative) that doesn't make much reference to or even incorporate explicit homophobia is (implicitly) not being "responsible to the past." I've certainly made several posts on this topic before, but as ever, my thoughts and research materials change over time. So, okay.

(Note: I am a professional historian with a PhD, a book contract for an academic monograph on medieval/early modern queer history, and soon-to-be-several peer-reviewed publications on medieval queer history. In other words, I'm not just talking out of my ass here.)

As I noted in that post, first of all, the growing emphasis on "accuracy" in historical fiction and historically based media is... a mixed bag. Not least because it only seems to be applied in the Game of Thrones fashion, where the only "accurate" history is that which is misogynistic, bloody, filthy, rampantly intolerant of competing beliefs, and has no room for women, people of color, sexual minorities, or anyone else who has become subject to hot-button social discourse today. (I wrote a critical post awhile ago about the Netflix show Cursed, ripping into it for even trying to pretend that a show based on the Arthurian legends was "historically accurate" and for doing so in the most simplistic and reductive way possible.) This says far more about our own ideas of the past, rather than what it was actually like, but oh boy will you get pushback if you try to question that basic premise. As other people have noted, you can mix up the archaeological/social/linguistic/cultural/material stuff all you like, but the instant you challenge the ingrained social ideas about The Bad Medieval Era, cue the screaming.

I've been a longtime ASOIAF fan, but I do genuinely deplore the effect that it (and the show, which was by far the worst offender) has had on popular culture and widespread perceptions of medieval history. When it comes to queer history specifically, we actually do not know that much, either positive or negative, about how ordinary medieval people regarded these individuals, proto-communities, and practices. Where we do have evidence that isn't just clerical moralists fulminating against sodomy (and trying to extrapolate a society-wide attitude toward homosexuality from those sources is exactly like reading extreme right-wing anti-gay preachers today and basing your conclusions about queer life in 2021 only on those), it is genuinely mixed and contradictory. See this discussion post I likewise wrote a while ago. Queerness, queer behavior, queer-behaving individuals have always existed in history, and labeling them "queer" is only an analytical conceit that represents their strangeness to us here in the 21st century, when these categories of exclusion and difference have been stringently constructed and applied, in a way that is very far from what supposedly "always" existed in the past.

Basically, we need to get rid of the idea that there was only one empirical and factual past, and that historians are "rewriting" or "changing" or "misrepresenting" it when they produce narratives that challenge hegemonic perspectives. This is why producing good historical analysis is a skill that takes genuine training (and why it's so undervalued in a late-capitalist society that would prefer you did anything but reflect on the past). As I also said in the post to which you refer, "homophobia" as a structural conceit can't exist prior to its invention as an analytical term, if we're treating queerness as some kind of modern aberration that can't be reliably talked about until "homosexual" gained currency in the late 19th century. If there's no pre-19th century "homosexuality," then ipso facto, there can be no pre-19th-century "homophobia" either. Which one is it? Spoiler alert: there are still both things, because people are people, but just as the behavior itself is complicated in the premodern past, so too is the reaction to it, and it is certainly not automatic rejection at all times.

Hence when it comes to fiction, queer authors have no responsibility (and in my case, certainly no desire) to uncritically replicate (demonstrably false!) narratives insisting that we were always miserable, oppressed, ostracised, murdered, or simply forgotten about in the premodern world. Queer characters, especially historical queer characters, do not have to constantly function as a political mouthpiece for us to claim that things are so much better today (true in some cases, not at all in the others) and that modernity "automatically" evolved to a more "enlightened" stance (definitely not true). As we have seen with the recent resurgence of fascism, authoritarianism, nationalism, and xenophobia around the world, along with the desperate battle by the right wing to re-litigate abortion, gay rights, etc., social attitudes do not form in a vacuum and do not just automatically become more progressive. They move backward, forward, and side to side, depending on the needs of the societies that produce them, and periods of instability, violence, sickness, and poverty lead to more regressive and hardline attitudes, as people act out of fear and insularity. It is a bad human habit that we have not been able to break over thousands of years, but "[social] things in the past were Bad but now have become Good" just... isn't true.

After all, nobody feels the need to constantly add subtextual disclaimers or "don't worry, I personally don't support this attitude/action" implied authorial notes in modern romances, despite the cornucopia of social problems we have today, and despite the complicated attitude of the modern world toward LGBTQ people. If an author's only reason for including "period typical homophobia" (and as we've discussed, there's no such thing before the 19th century) is that they think it should be there, that is an attitude that needs to be challenged and examined more closely. We are not obliged to only produce works that represent a downtrodden past, even if the end message is triumphal. It's the same way we got so tired of rape scenes being used to make a female character "stronger." Just because those things existed (and do exist!), doesn't mean you have to submit every single character to those humiliations in some twisted name of accuracy.

Yes, as I have always said, prejudices have existed throughout history, sometimes violently so. But that is not the whole story, and writing things that center only on the imagined or perceived oppression is not, at this point, accurate OR helpful. Once again, I note that this is specifically talking about fiction. If real-life queer people are writing about their own experiences, which are oftentimes complex, that's not a question of "representation," it's a question of factual memoir and personal history. You can't attack someone for being "problematic" when they are writing about their own lived experience, which is something a younger generation of queer people doesn't really seem to get. They also often don't realise how drastically things have changed even in my own lifetime, per the tags on my reblog about Brokeback Mountain, and especially in media/TV.

However, if you are writing fiction about queer people, especially pre-20th century queer people, and you feel like you have to make them miserable just to be "responsible to the past," I would kindly suggest that is not actually true at all, and feeds into a dangerous narrative that suggests everything "back then" was bad and now it's fine. There are more stories to tell than just suffering, queer characters do not have to exist solely as a corollary for (inaccurate) political/social commentary on the premodern past, and they can and should be depicted as living their lives relatively how they wanted to, despite the expected difficulties and roadblocks. That is just as accurate, if sometimes not more so, than "they suffered, the end," and it's something that we all need to be more willing to embrace.

[missmentelle]

How do I know if I'm being gaslit? What does that mean?

If you are experiencing “gaslighting”, it means that someone is intentionally trying to make you feel like you are irrational and insane. They will try to convince you that you can’t trust your own judgement, even about things that you experienced firsthand. The internet tends to use the term ‘gaslighting’ to describe any kind of lying or arguing, but it’s a lot more complicated than that - when you are being gaslit, it means someone is going out of their way to make you feel like you’re the crazy one who causes all the conflict in the relationship when in reality, it’s the other way around. A person who lies about liking your new haircut or starts an argument with you about whose turn it is to do the dishes is probably not gaslighting you - gaslighting is intentional, repeated, and specifically aimed at undermining your sanity and emotional stability. It is a pattern of abuse, and by definition, it can be very difficult to recognize and escape from. 

Examples of gaslighting include things like:

Insisting that things did not happen the way you remember them, even if you have proof. Maybe you and the abuser had an argument over WhatsApp yesterday, and they called you a slur. You definitely remember that this happened, because it was devastating for you, and you took screenshots in case they deleted the message. But when you confront the other person about what they said, they flat-out deny that it ever happened - in fact, they have no idea where this is coming from, and they feel insulted that you would accuse them of such a horrible thing. They didn’t do that. They’ve never done that. In fact, there was no argument. You made the whole thing up in your head. It doesn’t matter that you have screenshots - they don’t want to see them, because they know that you are totally misunderstanding what’s in them, just like you always do. When you’re being gaslit, the gaslighter doesn’t care about reality. They will flat-out deny what happened and create a new version of events that puts them in a better light, and they’ll insist that you are the one with the faulty memory for not remembering it that way. Even with evidence right in front of their faces, they’ll stick to their guns and say that you are completely inventing things. 

Constantly insisting that you overreact and blow things out of proportion. Maybe you saw a notification on your partner’s phone the other day, and you realize that they’ve been texting other people on a dating app. You are obviously very upset about the situation, and you aren’t sure if you even want to stay in the relationship. But instead of apologizing, your partner begins to get angry with you for how upset you are - they insist that you are blowing this completely out of proportion, that you’re being a huge drama queen, that you’re being manipulative and attention-seeking, and that it’s completely insane for you to be upset. Any time you are upset with the other person for genuinely hurting or harming you in some way, they flip everything around - all of a sudden, the conversation becomes focused on how unstable and dramatic you are, and the abuser’s wrongdoing is totally forgotten. The abuser paints a consistent picture of you as someone who freaks out over absolutely nothing and completely overreacts. 

Playing up your existing mental illness or insisting that you are mentally ill. Your abuser sees signs of mental illness in everything you do. If you have a history of mental illness, they’ll insist that it’s coming back - if you don’t have a history of mental illness, they’ll invent a new mental illness for you out of whole cloth. Did you get upset because your partner screamed at you? That’s not normal, you’re having huge mood swings and you’re definitely bipolar. Did you stick up for yourself when your partner was trying to control you? That’s definitely not normal, you’re acting just like this person they knew who had severe BPD. Whenever you are upset about the way you’re being treated or just refusing to be controlled, your abuser will play the mental illness card - suddenly, they are the hard-worn, loving caretaker and you are the very sick person who refuses to let them help you. Sometimes, when you are getting especially angry about your partner’s mistreatment, they may flip a switch and go from yelling at you to acting like your caretaker in an instant - they’ll start pleading with you to get help, offering to drive you to the hospital, and begging you to understand that you aren’t well and that they’re just so worried about you. The point, of course, is to completely undermine you as a person; they want you to believe that you are seriously mentally ill and incapable of understanding what’s real and what isn’t. 

Positioning themselves as the innocent “victim” in the relationship, even when they are the one mistreating you. To an outside observer, you are the one constantly being terrorized by someone who criticizes and controls you. But your gaslighter doesn’t want you to see it that way - according to them, they are the innocent victim who has to tiptoe around your constant unpredictable mood swings. They’ll claim that they try so hard to help you and avoid setting you off, but you’re just so unreasonable - they may even claim that you are the one abusing them. Any time you fight back, stand up for yourself or have a negative reaction to their abuse, they will find a way to frame things so that your response is the real issue, and not the abuse that provoked it. If they pinned you against a wall and you pushed them off you to get away, they will flip the narrative on you - they’ll swear up and down that they were just gently trying to keep you from hurting yourself when you violently attacked them. Somehow, every confrontation you have about your partner’s bad behaviour turns into you apologizing and feeling bad, even when you went into the conversation being pretty sure that you did nothing wrong. 

Intentionally turning friends and loved ones against you. A gaslighter will sometimes try to recruit your friends and family to “their” side, turning them against you. They will tell your loved ones all about your supposed mood swings, “mental health issues” and how difficult you are being, in an effort to win sympathy and destroy your credibility. The idea is that when you turn to your friends to say “my partner freaked out on me over something small last night”, they’ll respond with “mmmm, your partner already told us this story and they gave a very different version of what happened. It sounds like you’re leaving a lot out to make yourself sound better. Your partner says you’ve been acting weird lately, what’s going on with you?” It’s much easier to warp someone’s perception of reality if you can convince their friends and family to reinforce the fake reality that you’ve created. 

Dramatically misrepresenting your motives. A gaslighter will find ways to “prove” that you’re the kind of person they say you are, regardless of what you do. Even if you do something nice for them, they can find ways to twist things to suit their narrative. Did you buy them an expensive birthday present because you care about them? You’re clearly being manipulative and trying to bribe them somehow. Did you clean the whole house for them because you wanted them to be able to enjoy coming home to a clean living space? Nonsense, this was clearly you being passive-aggressive and trying to shame them for not being as clean as you. Your actions end up not mattering - no matter how hard you to try to prove that you aren’t the difficult, terrible person that your gaslighter says you are, they will always find ways to misrepresent your motives and lie about your intentions so they can turn your innocent behaviour into whatever they want it to be. 

Being gaslighted is an immensely stressful experience - it’s designed to make you feel crazy, and if you’re subjected to it for a long time, that’s exactly what will happen. It’s unbelievably stressful to be in a position where you feel like you cannot trust your own mind or make rational decisions. And when that stress inevitably starts to affect your mental health, that becomes further evidence that your abuser is correct and that you’re the crazy one. It can be extraordinarily difficult for a victim of long-term gaslighting to escape from their situation, because they genuinely start to believe that they are the problem in the relationship and that they’re lucky anyone will put up with them. 

If you suspect you are being gaslit, there are some things you can do to recognize the issue and break free from it:

Keep meticulous records. Write down the details of conversations and arguments as soon as they happen. Record fights with the audio recorder on your phone. Take and save screenshots of important conversations. Save voicemails. Keep a diary with dates and times of events. Nobody has perfect recall, but if your partner’s version of events consistently doesn’t match your hard evidence in a major way, that’s a pretty good sign that they are twisting the truth to suit their needs.

Talk to a neutral third party. Talk to someone outside the relationship that your partner doesn’t have access to - this could be a friend, a coworker, a neighbour, anyone that you feel you can trust. Turn to an internet group or forum if you have to. Show them the evidence you’ve collected or talk to them about what’s happening, and get a neutral perspective. People who have not been exposed to your gaslighter’s charms will be able to tell you pretty quickly that your situation is not normal. 

Think about your past relationships. Have any of your past relationships followed the same patterns as your current one? Has anyone in your past made similar complaints about you? If your last relationship didn’t have these kinds of issues, there’s a good chance that the new person in your life is the problem - not you.

Trust your gut. If you get the sense that something isn’t quite right, don’t ignore those feelings. Remember, you don’t actually have to be certain that you’re being gaslighted to justify leaving the relationship - if your relationship frequently causes you stress and anxiety or makes you feel like you can’t be yourself, something is seriously wrong and it may be time to go.

It’s also a good idea to talk to a mental health professional or a domestic abuse expert if you suspect you are being gaslighted - they are experts at helping your recognize it and come up with strategies to have healthier relationships in the future.

Hope this answers your question!

MM

[megashadowdragon]

Kyle Rittenhouse Found NOT GUILTY On ALL Counts, Leftists OUTRAGED, Push Lies As Fear Of Riots Erupt.

 The same lies from Democrats are persisting and fears that riots will erupt this weekend have many in fear

But others say this will set the Kyle Rittenhouse precedent, that people can defend their communities and not be convicted if attacked by blm rioters and antifa

comments on youtube

Acquitted of all charges. This was a victory for human rights and justice. I cried. Flat out. I was so relieved that this poor boy wouldn't be going to jail for the rest of his life for defending himself. I was relieved our right to self defense on this case was still preserved.

Anyone who thinks that Kyle should have been found guilty, either didn’t watch the trial or they are being completely disingenuous or they are just stupid. This wouldn't have happened: -  if the cops did their job even when told to stand down. -  if the mayor did his job. - if the governor did his job. But they sat by and let the world burn for 3 days.Show less

The Media is literally trying to tear this country apart.  It helps ratings.   Such a great day for Americans, and our right to defend ourselves.

The Judge did say dismissed with prejudice, right after he was found Not Guilty. if this is true, dismissed means he's still acquitted,  not guilty, but now the prejudice refers to the DA's misconduct, so he could be holding them accountable

Yes, but he also retroactively invalidated all of the evidence used against him, and opens up the DA to being disbarred and tried.  The second part being the most important.

  if it is not "with prejudice" then the other side can appeal which takes it to a higher court in order to overturn the previous judge or jury's decision. This happens very rarely.

100% acquittal. They chose truth over safety. Kudos to all the jurors. The fact he was shaking before he actually started sobbing is proof he wasn’t faking his tears

biggest thing I've noticed is them complaining that this sets a terrible precedent because now they have to worry about people being armed and protecting themselves which will seriously hinder their ability to riot, burn, loot and murder with impunity

Can’t wait to watch the crocodile tears of all the celebrities, politicians, and journalists. This is not just a win for Kyle, but to freedom and America as a whole. LETS GO BRANDON!!!

What I love the most is that they went stright to "corcodile tears" or "he's faking it", portarying a 18 y.o. as some kind of evil sociopath able to fake a panic attack. My point is that "guilty" people can have very genuine brakedonws and cry very real tears. The genuinity of a reaction doesn't imply one is innocent of guilty. But these folks coulnd't wrap their heads around it, of course to them if he cried he must have faked it, to them it wasn't possible that he was just re-living through a thraumatic experience.  

Don't get me wrong, I was convinced Kyle shot in clear self-defence and I'm happy that he was found not guilty. I was just astonished by the stupidity of those that assumed he was faking it.

Interesting how if a man cries while recalling the most traumatic event in his life, he’s called a phony, but if a girl claims to have PTSD because she got cat called, society believes her.

A well-regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, THE RIGHT OF THE PEOPLE TO KEEP AND BEAR ARMS, SHALL NOT BE INFRINGED.

The “why you mad” argument about innocence has always baffled me. You’re telling me it’s abnormal to be emotional when being smeared or falsely accused of something?

[zer0-is-me]

Chapter 2 - Izuku and Katsuki

Chapter 1, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

A/N:

Hi there! This is chapter two of... I need a name for this. Uhm, nevermind, if this gets more attention we'll figure it out then. That's a job for future me. Anywho, this is literally for those few people who liked my work and that one person who commented (tysm that made my day <3). Um, here goes writing the next chapter :D hope you enjoy!

Previously:

Eraserhead took a step towards him, and Izuku started to accept that maybe he just wasn't made for vigilantism, when a small something fell between them, clanging loudly in the quiet night.

After a beat, Izuku cocked his head and began, " What the hell-"

And it exploded.

Let it never be said that Katsuki knew what he was doing.

He never claimed that.

Sure, it had been a conscious decision when he started his... nighttime activities, but that didn't mean he had anything actually planned or thought out. At first, the nights were just him wandering around, saving a few people, and going back home at, what, 12AM? 1AM? At first he thought it was late; he should have gone to bed at 8:30PM. But then he thought that maybe it was worth it. Honestly, he wasn't so sure about the whole being-a-hero idea anymore, after... the incident, so why should it matter so much?

But then heroes started to actually pay attention to him. People started to pay attention to him. And his name began to be the one people called out at night when they needed help. This also meant that heroes went after him, too (he found that extremely annoying).

Katsuki wasn't sure why he was doing it.

(Maybe it was for a bit of personal atonement.

For the harm he had done in the past.)

Either way, when he had wandered into another neighbourhood for the night, searching for a lead on a case he had caught wind about, he hadn't been expecting to find another vigilante.

Vigilantes like him were rare; vigilantes who did proper good and did well in the job too, not killing, bitter ones (*cough* Stain, *cough cough*).

He wasn't completely sure why he did it. Sure, he was softer and kinder at night, for some reason, but he still wouldn't help someone who was being targeted by heroes. Let alone a hero he, himself, had been targeted by before as well.

He had been scaling a building with one of his support items, when he realised that someone was already up there - correction; two were. He was about to scale back down, unnoticed, when he overheard a familiar voice.

Huh. He didn't think the hobo's patrolling routes crossed over to this neighbourhood.

" Look, just come peacefully, and you might have a shorter sentence in jail," he heard Eraserhead say. " I honestly think you're doing good, but it's still against the law."

Oh, so there's another vigilante here. Well, if they were gonna get captured by a hero, they probably weren't good enough to be a vigilante anyway. Although, if Eraserhead himself had said they were doing good...

A robotical, glitchy voice answered. Either a quirk or a voice changer, like him.

" Awww, I'm so happy the one and only Eraserhead appreciates my efforts!" Katsuki heard them coo.

They seem nice enough, for a vigilante, so far, he had thought. No killing yet, anyway. Though, he also knew that looks could deceive. He decided not to intervene until he deemed it necessary.

Eraserhead's voice came again, " Yeah, well, I've been on your case for a while now, so I know firsthand how helpful you can be."

The smile was evident in the vigilante's warped voice. The tone was softer, too. " Then don't turn me in. You and I both know crime rates have dropped since I've appeared."

It was silent for a moment, and Katsuki wondered if something had happened. He was about to climb up and check when Eraserhead finally spoke.

" I'm sorry, I can't do that and you know it. It's my job," Eraserhead genuinely sounded sorry. Katsuki heard a quiet slap on concrete, and his mind provided that the hero had taken a step forward.

Internally, Katsuki was having an argument with himself.

He should help them escape. They're doing good, it would be wrong to take a real hero off of these streets.

But, on the other hand, he didn't know this vigilante. He wouldn't save a random lawbreaker! What if he'd misinterpreted the situation? What if this was a villain, and not a vigilante?

Another quiet noise of a foot hitting floor made him groan quietly at how weak-willed he was against himself.

Fuck it.

He grabbed one of his home made smoke bombs from his belt and lobbed it over the top of the roof. It made a loud clang in the quiet night.

After a moment, he vaguely heard the glitching voice of the presumed vigilante say, " What the hell-"

But he was already scaling the last meter of the wall quickly and didn't pay it much attention. With the trigger for the smoke bomb in hand, he pressed the button and heard the bang of it going off.

He leaped onto the roof top and grabbed the vigilante's arm, pulling him away from the smoke and where Eraserhead was trying to wave it away.

When at first the vigilante resisted, he growled quietly, " Do you want to get away, or not?!"

" ... Fine," the vigilante muttered, letting Katsuki lead them away and towards the edge of the roof, behind the hero.

Not waiting for the other to catch up, he let go of their arm and leaped onto the next building, blunting the force with a roll. He began running to the side quickly.

If the other vigilante couldn't catch up, that was their problem.

And yet not a second later, he heard a soft thud and the shuffle of clothes behind him, then the thump of feet joining his.

He jumped onto another building roof and looked behind him, still running. The other vigilante jumped down behind him, their head down, hood covering their hair and eyes.

Behind them, Eraserhead was only just recovering from the smoke and had realised they were gone. He only looked out after them and didn't make a move to follow, however. He must've known they were already too far away. Katsuki looked forwards again and leaped onto the next building.

When he deemed them far enough, he slowed down on one of the taller roofs and dangled his feet off of the edge. When the other vigilante saw this, they slowed down, almost confused. Katsuki felt their calculating gaze on him.

When it had been a few seconds, Katsuki thought that they'd just leave him there in peace. But then-

They sat next to him, feet also dangling off of the edge.

Well, not close to him, fortunately for Katsuki. They sat a few meters away, out of reach if either decided to try something.

A few minutes of silence passed, save for their quiet breathing and the occasional car driving past. Katsuki knew he should get up and carry on the reason he was here; to find clues on the case, but he couldn't bring himself to.

It- it was peaceful, for once. No villains trying to kill him. No suffocating adults or peers praising him not for he, himself, but his quirk. No yells or punches from someone he should trust and be loved by. No chaotic thoughts ripping through his mind, making him doubt and panic.

It was peaceful.

Well, for a while, at least.

" Why did you do that?"

The vigilante had finally spoken up, and Katsuki nearly missed it.

" Hah?" He sideglanced the other vigilante, looking at him properly for the first time.

His eyes were hidden by a dark visor and the shadows of his hood, the rest of his face covered by a black surgical mask. His hood was black with toxic green accents on the rim, and it attached to a black, obviously oversized hoodie. He had a belt which held small pouches and items, and what looked like a bow staff attached to his back. He wore black sweatpants and black trainers. He also wore tight-fitting combat gloves, like Katsuki himself.

" Why did you do it?" the vigilante repeated. " You don't know me, I don't know you. I could be a villain, for all you know. Wait, are you a villain?!"

" I'm not a fucking villain, dumb fuck," Katsuki grumbled, eyes sliding back to the floor all the way down. " And I don't know why I did it. I just fuckin' did."

The other hummed. " ... Well, thanks. I owe you one."

" Damn right you do," he replied.

" Are you always this rude?"

Katsuki turned his head and raised his eyebrows. " Are you always this annoying?"

They huffed a chuckle and crossed their arms. " ... So... What are you?"

Katsuki's expression pinched, as if saying, ' Wtf?'.

" What the hell is that question? What, am I supposed to say a motherfucking fairy?"

The other waved his hands about. " No, no! That's not what I meant! I mean, are you a vigilante? A villain? A hero?"

Katsuki gave him another unimpressed stare, then sighed. " You're fucking hopeless." ("Hey!")

" Let's see, I threw a smoke bomb at a hero and made sure the idiot who was about to get caught by him wasn't caught. I'm pretty sure I'm not a hero," he deadpanned. " And I literally just said I'm not a villain."

" Well, I mean, you could be lying," the other shrugged.

" If I was a fucking villain," Katsuki said, his patience wearing thin, " Then I definitely wouldn't have saved your hopeless ass. I'd say killing you would be a better course of action if I were a villain. I'm considering it now, actually."

The hooded figure ignored the last comment.

" A bit mean, but I get the point, I guess," they said. " So you're a vigilante. Cool, I haven't seen a decent one like me in ages. But, I haven't seen you around here before? Are you new?"

Katsuki scoffed. " Fuck, no. I've been in this for, what, two, three years? I'm from the neighbourhood nearby. Don't ask. What about you? Never heard of you before."

" You don't know my name, how can you be sure you've never heard of me before?" they deadpanned.

" Because I don't care."

The vigilante snorted. " I'm really feeling the love and kindness coming off of you in waves."

" Shut the fuck up," the blonde rolled his eyes. " Fine, what's your name, then, dumbass?"

" It's definitely not 'dumbass'," the other muttered (" Again, I couldn't give less shits."), before offering his hand and saying, " Kibo, the vigilante of hope! Pleased to meet you!"

Katsuki stared at the newly named, 'Kibo's, hand, before ignoring it completely. He stood up, stretching, and turned to leave.

He paused right before he was about to jump to the floor, and sighed.

" Name's Valour. If we're doing your cringe-y ass shit, the vigilante of courage and bravery."

As an afterthought, he added, " And, no, I'm not using your name, dumb fuck."

And then, he was gone.

A/N:

I have decided.

I'm keeping the second A/Ns, and you cant stop me. u dont fuckin control me.

anywayyyyy, this went on longer than I was expecting. Sorry bout that lol. Betcha didn't see Kacchan coming in all his explosive glory, tho.

Ugh i couldn't find a nickname for izu from baku without using his appearance (which, obviously, I couldn't do, even if i wanted to call him 'broccoli reject') so i just stuck with 'dumb fuck' :D It might change, it might not, who knows?

Remember to comment or do that heart thing-y-ma-jigy! Like it? Hate it? Tell me about it! I want to hear your opinions.

Alright bye byeee, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and remember that you deserve the world! Tell yourself that everyday, otherwise here's me saying it and hoping you'll remember it everyday. Because it's true :) Have a great day!! <3

Oh, and @mymanbakugou :D (if anyone wants to be tagged for future chapters, just say so! <3)

[socksual-innuendos]

Regarding The Pinup Zine Rumors

So I had my fun dunking on some stupid claims the past few nights and I would like to make a formal post on it since I am the moderator on the zine that handled character assignments and approval. 

So, for all of you fortunate enough to miss this, let me catch you up to speed. There are some people in this fandom who really enjoy throwing the word pedophile around when they don’t get their way or want attention, and given the zine’s success, they just had to find something to wank about. In this case, it was Jerry the Punk, a Great Khan in New Vegas.

The rest will be undercut due to length. General warnings I guess, if you can read the accusations you can read this post. If you can MAKE the accusations, try not to blow a gasket for being wrong.

Jerry the Punk is a side character in Red Rock Valley who can join the Followers of the Apocalypses. According to some people, he is ‘coded as a minor’ and we shall take that at face value and deconstruct it since there is nothing canonical about him being a minor.

Here is the claim in question

Now, firstly I would like to take full responsibility here for this characters inclusion in this zine. For general topic’d pieces, I gave our artists some suggestions of side characters and which factions they were part of. Where it came to the Followers of the Apocalypse, I had searched the wikia for known male characters in that faction. This lead me to seeing Jerry and looking at his page, which you can read here.

With that said, let’s dive into this objectively, since being subjective about this is no grounds for accusing someone of pedophilia.

Objectively, what we see on his character wikia.

This is Jerry, and here is his general Bio. No age, so that leaves things a wee bit tricky eh? Lets dig further. 

Here is some additional info, maybe we should check here for clues, such as the voice actor.

Listed as MaleAdult05

I could take the time to actually find Jerry’s lines in the files if you all would like and see if there is coded evidence that he gets defaulted to AdultMale#, which defuncts this claim immediately, (even Contreras isn’t named in the audio files as Contreras :^) 

EDIT: Jerry’s lines are found within the folder MaleAdult05, and with his age never specified or said to be read down as a teen, he is therefore not ‘universally read’ as a minor

For a more thorough write up on how Fallout as a whole handles its child and teen characters, please read this.

Lets move onto his quest! Cry Me A River.

Please check the quest wiki page and listen to the audio. He mentions about how the Followers brought books to his tribe when he was a kid and he’d read the old world poetry for hours. 

Already he refers to a time when he was a kid, which he talks about as if Long Ago and would be strange for a teenager to refer to as such, subjectively. There is not much else in regards to the quest as far as I am aware.

“He is minor coded” and “He can be read as a minor” then evolves to

“Literally referred to as a child in every interaction he’s in”

We are given no direct lines despite there ‘literally’ being mentions of this in every interaction about him. And who is saying this if so? To Papa Khan, everyone’s a kid. To Benny, the Courier’s a kid. Does every exact line of ‘kid’ mean that they are in fact a minor and not just younger or more immature than the person calling them that? Considering he’s not Khan material, I can see him being treated like he’s still a kid, especially since he has yet to SUCCESSFULLY pass the rite of passage. Here the second passage is from Bitter-Root’s wikia page

UPON REACHING THE AGE OF ADULTHOOD, you get the shit kicked out of you. Even if you want to argue that Jerry is alive and therefore hasn’t gone through initiation due to canon statements, another canon statement directly refutes it, and we are back to square one.

As for the argument of OP being distraught at the idea of a 16/17 year old being lewded up. I think that they would have a lot more issues than just us if they truly believed that Jerry was a minor and truly knew all there is to know about this rando NPC

Because Jerry canonically writes about fucking. Guess New Vegas is cancelled right?

So, objectively we can see that no, no he is not easily ‘read as a minor’. In fact we had 28+ people who are very against lewding up minors not read him as a minor. This does not account for the other people unaffiliated with the zine that I had talked to, but also did not read him as a minor.

Please be fully aware, headcanons are not canon, and personal interpretations of a character are never means to throw such hard accusations around. The people who are skeeved about this can feel how they want but that does not give them the right to make hard claims about someone they don’t know and they don’t care to talk to to clear things up with.

We as artists do hold a right to be outraged when someone foregoes talking directly to us so that they can make false claims of something genuinely horrible, so please check yourself if you think that this is an over reaction on our part or that this comes off as rude.

For those of you wishing to discuss this NICELY, I will be open to talk about it, off anon, and in good faith. All other interactions will be meme’d 

[starry-sky-stuff]

Sorting the Grisha Trilogy

For this sorting I’ll be using the superb sorting system created by @sortinghatchats. A brief breakdown, there are Primaries, the why, and Secondaries, the how. For a more in depth explanation check out @sortinghatchats or @wisteria-lodge. Here’s a link to a great and succinct explanation. 

Disclaimer: Spoiler warnings apply both for the Grisha Trilogy, the Six of Crows Duology and the Nikolai Duology. 

This turned into a very long post so I cut for length.

Alina Starkov has a very loud Lion Secondary that she increasingly grows into as the series progresses. Alina has literally no chill ever, about anything. She’s always ready to throw down. In Siege & Storm, she’s quite ready to tear the Crown Prince a new one for his suggestion that they lower the draft age. All the while Nikolai watches in exasperation because they very much need to keep the generals and royals on side. But Alina can never be anything other than what she is. he is genuinely disturbed by Nikolai’s ability to switch personas because it is so antithetical to her entire personality. Alina is the same kind of Lion Secondary that Katniss Everdeen from the Hunger Games is — someone who inspires an army and is ultimately used as a symbol and martyr by others for their own gains.

For her Primary I would also say Lion. Alina has very firm beliefs and they all come from within. She’s also got that lone wolf outlook that Lion Primary’s often struggle with. Repeatedly, she pushes people away and is intent on doing things alone. There’s also elements of the unhealthy Glory Hound Lion Primary, in that, as much as Alina is motivated by doing good, she’s also motivated by gaining power. Greed and power are such integral parts of her storyline. A Snake would claim they were gaining power to protect their loved ones, a Badger just people in general or maybe Ravka as a whole. But Alina gains power so she can defeat the Darkling and save the world. When she kills Mal, as much as it is to save the world, a part of it is also to gain power, for which she pays a price by losing said power. The very core issue in her relationship with Mal is the conflict between a Loyalist and an Idealist. For Mal, his main priority is Alina. For Alina, her priority is defeating the Darkling. 

Loyal and dutiful Mal Oretsev is an incredibly obvious Snake Primary. His entire motivation is centred on Alina. Everything he does is for her. He volunteers to hunt the stag for her, he deserts the army for her, he stays in the capital to protect her even though he hates it. “You’re my flag, you’re my nation” is a very Snake flavoured declaration of love. Mal is not in this fight because he wants to save Ravka or defeat the Darkling. He was completely okay with him and Alina escaping to Novyi Zem at the end of the first book and leaving Ravka to its fate. He commits to the fight when Alina does, and her cause becomes his cause. 

For his secondary, charming, likeable, Mal is a Badger. One of the first things we learn about Mal is that he can fit in anywhere and has no trouble making friends. Although he has a bit of a Lion Secondary Performance, at his core his a team player. He enjoyed the army because it was a community, and he’s at his lowest in the second book because he has no friends and no community. Part of why he’s much healthier in the last book is that he has a community again and a position within that community. In the White Chapel he can train and teach, and once they leave he has his own little team again. He falls into the leader role in the last book, not because he inspires loyalty the way Lion Secondary Alina does, but because he caretakes and looks after people. When they’re underground, and he constantly goes back to check on everybody and talk to them to make sure they keep up, that’s a Badger Secondary looking after his community. It’s probably not at all surprising that Mal has what @the-phoenix-heart has dubbed the love interest sorting. His priority is Alina, and he shows his love by following her and joining her quest, and in the end, sacrificing himself for her. Mal wasn’t going to die to save Ravka. He was sacrificing himself to save Alina. 

Nikolai Lantsov, whose entire motivation in the original trilogy is to gain the throne of Ravka to save Ravka, strikes me as more of a Loyalist than an Idealist. Either he’s a Badger whose community is Ravka, or a Snake who just has a very wide circle. Considering there’s no evidence of him dehumanising people, I would lean towards Snake. We later learn that part of why he wants to fix Ravka is a promise he made to a childhood friend who died in his arms, which strikes me as a very Snake motivation. An Idealist would be more motivated by the cause of helping Ravka, and a Badger would focus on Ravkans being in need of good leadership. I think much of his character arc in Nikolai Duology makes sense through the lens of a Snake Primary moving his priorities, as Ravka as a whole becomes less important and Zoya becomes more important. His primary was very difficult for me to accurately gauge because I think he actively hides it behind his secondary performance. Once we’re in his head, his motivations are very focused on the individuals he cares about. I think he and Zoya also bond over this Snake Primary that was let down by their parents and so transferred their loyalty onto Ravka as a whole. 

Initially, I thought he had a Snake Secondary. After all, Alina’s description of him being similar to a Matryoshka doll, always putting on different personas, is quintessential Snake Secondary. But when you actually look at how Nikolai solves problems, it isn’t with his charm or guile. Yes, he saves Alina by pretending to be Sturmhond, but they get into Ravka because he came up with a flying ship. In the last book, he saves the group because he just happened to have a secret military base he’d developed for a rainy day. In the Nikolai Duology, he literally came up with a plan for someone else to masquerade as him just in case he ever went missing. He solves his problems by pulling out some old tool or plan he’d previously developed on the off chance he’d need it. Total Bird Secondary. Now, Nikolai has a very good Snake Secondary model. It was something he developed in children to deal with his emotionally neglectful parents, by becoming whatever he had to be to get attention. But at his core, he’s an inventor, it’s what he enjoys doing, it’s what he does for fun, and it’s how he solves his problems. 

The Darkling, who views ozatskaya and even other Grisha as beneath him is a Dark Badger Primary. To the Darkling, only the Grisha are human, and even then he still thinks of him and Alina as above other Grisha. When parts of the Second Army turn on him he dehumanises them in turn. There’s an argument for an unhealthy Lion Primary, who believes wholeheartedly that all the terrible things he does are justified and he’s the only one who can save Ravka. But building the Second Army and Little Palace as a place the Grisha could belong seems to me like a Badger Primary looking to build his community. It’s also explains why he can kill all these people and feel no guilt whatsoever because to him they’re not really people. In the Rule of Wolves he even explicitly says that he whilst he values human life in general he does not value human lives specifically. 

The building of the Second Army is proof of his Badger Secondary. A skilled manipulator, he nevertheless uses genuine emotion and pieces of himself in the manipulation that I don’t think a Snake Secondary would find necessary. If you believe he did develop genuine feelings for Alina, then that would probably be a Badger Secondary who fell for his own performance. A Snake Secondary would probably have pretended to want a relationship with Alina without developing any feelings. His primary and secondary work together to explain why he was so affected by the Grisha turning against him. That’s his community, the community he built up from the ground, and when they turn on him he punishes them for their perceived disloyalty. 

Zoya Nazyalensky is a Snake Primary whose circle includes the Second Army and eventually the whole of Ravka. There’s an argument that she’s a Badger Primary who might’ve been a little burned, and she does treat ozatskaya as lesser than Grisha, but I don’t see the evidence of dehumanisation. Her reason for turning against the Darkling is that he killed her aunt, her only family and to her mind the only person who loved her. A Badger Primary might’ve been more motivated by him massacring Novokribirsk as opposed to a particular loss. Also, her feelings of failure are specific to her feeling that she failed her people — failing to stop the Darkling from killing her aunt, failing to protect the Second Army, failing to stop Nina from being captured. Throughout the original trilogy she’s burned. She’s lost her only person and so latches on to what is hers — the Second Army, Ravka, the Little Palace. She protects these things because they’re hers not because of any ideal. In the Nikolai Duology she unburns and opens herself up to admitting more people to her circle (or admitting that they’re actually in her circle and she does care about them). 

Zoya’s secondary was harder for me to pick. She’s definitely an improvisational secondary. We never see her making plans or being worried about being prepared, she just goes into dangerous situations and things work out for her. Snake Secondary in neutral state is possible. For the most part, she’s not particularly chargey for most of the original trilogy and could be a Snake that just doesn’t care. But she treats Nikolai’s Snake Secondary Model with awe and is, I think, too genuinely impressed by it to be a Snake Secondary herself. Lion Secondary makes more sense given that she’s a natural leader who inspires others more than makes herself likeable. The ending of Rule of Wolves also makes me lean towards Lion, since it’s her running headfirst to save Nina without any plan of attack and she doesn’t try to work her away around the situation like a Snake. She just runs straight into danger. 

Genya Safin, who wants nothing more than to belong, is a Badger Primary searching for a community. It’s why she stays loyal to the Darkling even after he destroys Novokribirsk, because he gave her a community and sense of belonging, and she believes these things are reliant on her loyalty and service to him. For her secondary, probably Badger too. Like the Darkling, she falls into the trap of believing her own manipulations and actually becomes friends with Alina. Also, the fact she spent years working on her tailoring skills seems like a Badger to me. 

David Kostyck, the quintessential inventor, has a glaring Bird Secondary. He’s the one who comes up with inventions, like the discs and the portable light, and is more comfortable in his lab than in the field. As for his primary, I think he might also be a Bird. He’s not a loyalist. If he was a Snake Primary then he probably wouldn’t have turned on the Darkling after Novokribirsk because Genya was still with him. He could be a Badger Primary who turned because of the massacre. But I think he’s a Bird Primary. He desires knowledge, not for the sake of power but purely because he wants to understand things. He strikes me as having a very decided morality. Merzost is bad because that’s a core Grisha teaching that he has adopted in his own system. 

Tolya and Tamar are harder to sort because they get less screen time. Tolya’s probably  double Lion, considering his concern with being honourable and his qualms with morally dubious actions. Also, his faith seems to me to be very felt and that is more Lion Primary. Considering his main role is as the muscle, definitely Lion Secondary. Tamar, who is totally okay with the morally dubious actions her brother abhors and, as of the Nikolai Duology, is in charge of spying is probably a Snake Secondary. Her motivations are less clear. Could be that she’s a Snake Primary who based her loyalties first of Alina then on Nikolai. She seems to be more attached to individuals than to any cause or country. 

In summary: 

Alina: Lion Primary/Lion Secondary

Mal: Snake Primary/Badger Secondary, Lion Secondary Performance

Nikolai: Snake Primary/Bird Secondary, Snake Secondary Model

The Darkling: Badger Primary/Badger Secondary, Snake Secondary Model

Zoya: Snake Primary/Lion Secondary

Genya: Badger Primary/Badger Secondary

David: Bird Primary/Bird Secondary

Tolya: Lion Secondary/Lion Secondary

Tamar: Snake Primary/Snake Secondary

[nym-ic]

THERE ARE GOING TO BE AN UNGODLY AMOUNT OF SCREENSHOTS. IF YOU DON’T CARE ABOUT THE DREAM SPEEDRUN DRAMA, YOU’RE BETTER OFF SCROLLING PAST, BECAUSE IT’S A LOT OF INFORMATION THAT REQUIRES THE GENERAL CONTEXT OF THE SITUATION

hi!! so i’ve taken some screenshots of the speedrunning discord in the interest of showing the toxicity i have seen in chat. i will also be including the screenshots of mods who were actually trying to stop the conversation because it was getting way out of hand.

dream’s messages in screenshots will also be mentioned after the toxicity and mods in the beginning.

this is an analysis of the toxicity and mod response as well as an analysis on the conversation that took place with dream.

also, small note: i will be using gender neutral pronouns for everyone mentioned in this discussion aside from dream, as we are aware of what he prefers :)

i am going to state this now that every single one of these screenshots was taken on december fourteenth, 2020 somewhere between 9:30 am and 11 am in the PST timezone:

this is just blatant hatred and toxicity. i don’t have to explain it because it’s very visible.

Mango is both a verifier and mod, and is seen actively trying to end the conversation and toxicity about dream, as it was completely flooding the general chat of the discord. i’m fairly sure the night before, general was locked about 2-3 times due to the spam and toxicity.

CasseBot as you will see later on in the screenshots, is also both a verifier and mod, and the screenshot above me is definitely a statement done in poor taste and uncalled for. however, in the screenshot below, you can see them reprimanding and handing out warnings to end the conversation about dream as well as the toxicity. the statement above was unnecessary, but they were actively trying to end conversation.

now, i will be sharing screenshots of the messages dream sent to the #coding-math channel in the discord, i am apologizing in advance for the pure amount of screenshots, but i was trying to capture the entire conversation, and i left out as many side conversations unrelated to what they were talking about as i could.

i am not blurring names here as it would be very difficult to follow the conversation, and the names are relevant to who is saying what to understand when certain people are talking at once. it should also be noted that these people were very calm in their discussion to dream, and there was no yelling or blatant calling him a cheater, which is a win in my book because it points toward an actually intelligent conversation

every single one of these screenshots was taken on december fourteenth, 2020 somewhere between 9:30 am and 11 am in the PST timezone:

the conversation in the beginning starts out incredibly calm, civil, and dare i say it, wholesome, as everyone taking part in the conversation at this point was genuinely helping dream find the files he needed from his world files in the version folder

the screenshot above is a closeup of the image seen in the screenshot before it!!

i’m not sure exactly what the eclipse directory is, but if someone is willing to explain it, feel free :)

aadil is an average community member of the server (not a mod or verifier!!), and can be seen supposedly very confrontational and flippant of certain evidence, though this is due to the wording of their messages, as they quickly corrected themselves below

Kohru here mentions being able to hide different ways to do the same thing dream is being accused of, however does not send anything due to the fact that they likely don’t actually know. i state this because they use an argument a few screenshots ahead saying they could “get [their] mom to do it” which is an argument that isn’t actually professional to what they’re discussing, however this could be due to the time that these messages took place.

this is where you can see dream start to get a little frustrated through his sarcasm and wording of the statement, but he is still remaining otherwise civil in the conversation, and those having the conversation (aside from a few choice reactions to things he sent as messages including flipping off emojis and a clown emoji) with dream were also being reasonable debaters and relatively non-toxic.

ImZaJojoReference (an average community member, not a mod or verifier!!) states “evidence” claiming anything dream will put forward will be fake, but then does not produce anything else to the conversation of note that could explain why they believe this.

we’ve seen dream admit this many times that he does not have the knowledge in math nor statistics to be able to accurately debate this data, which is the reason for his hiring of staticians to help him in his own investigation and defense of himself. he states he has several, so again, i’m excited for the outcome because maybe the situation would finally get resolved!

throughout this entire conversation, i noticed that Kohru, an average community member (not a mod or verifier!!) was very confrontational in their statements to dream, though i will attribute this behavior to the timestamps of the messages, as it’s so early in the morning (in my timezone at least. this could be fundamentally flawed).

these are all the screenshots i took from the Minecraft Java Edition Speedrun discord, and i hope i grabbed enough screenshots to remain primarily unbiased to both sides of the argument, but i can conclude that most of my perceived bias will be dragged from how i brought up toxicity, and how i was glad it was being taken care of.

if you made it all the way through, thanks for listening to my rambles in between, and i hope this provides information for people who aren’t in the discord, or are generally confused on the dynamic dream holds with the speedrun community. the #general chat is mainly just completely toxic, and there are a few of dream’s defenders in there, but they get almost immediately shot down because of their like of him. this means that many of the people against dream aren’t truly listening to other sides of the argument (not including the many screenshots i provided of the more level-headed members of the discord). dream’s rebuttal will likely bring forward new information, and though a lot of it will be ignored by this community because of their almost pure hatred for the guy, it will be everyone’s decision to make up their own opinions on the subject.

taking information from many different sources and making sure you take in both sides of the story is very important to making an informed decision on the matter at hand. i hope these screenshots of the conversation made information a little more digestible due to its casual and lax nature

I AM NOT ADVOCATING FOR THE SENDING OF HATE TO THESE CHOSEN PEOPLE. I HAVE BLOCKED OUT THE NAMES OF THOSE ACTING TOXIC BECAUSE I KNOW HOW THE COMMUNITY IS. TOXICITY IS NOT A WAY TO DECIDE IF A PERSON IS BAD BECAUSE IN ALL LIKELIHOOD, THOSE PEOPLE WERE UNDER 18 AND THUS CHILDREN. EVEN IF THEY WERE ADULTS, SENDING HATE AND DEATH THREATS MAKES YOU JUST AS BAD AS THEM.

if you send hate to the mods or the people having genuine discussion with dream, i don’t know what else to tell you other than you’re an idiot. because those people were pretty much the nicest people on the server.

thanks for reading, hope you have a good day!!!

[pau-neko-chan]

Small details that make me ship karumana

Various fans have already contributed supplementary materials as fuel for the karumana ship but I’m here to talk about more minute details of their individual characters that make me believe in a supportive and refreshing relationship that can develop between these two. I plan to discuss details ranging from the start-up ship fuel from the main series to the supplementary material hints in order to  provide a more psychological perspective in their compatibility.

Anime: S1 Ep 8 - Karma expresses interest in Okuda when the boys in class asked him who he likes.

The foundations of this ship

Many may claim that their interactions in the series aren’t enough to support a ship but if you look into supplementary material and analyze their individual characters beyond the obvious spotlight ship in the series, you can see how much Matsui Yusei teases fans with karumana ship fuel. According to Okuda’s character profile, she’s someone that the ever-alert Karma has allowed to get close. While in Karma’s character profile, Okuda is said to be the girl he can talk to about anything and his cautious heart and distant nature faded away around her. They’re cited to be the most easy-going boy-girl relationship in the class. In a translated character relationship chart from the official fanbook, Matsui confirms that these two like each other for how comfortable they are with each other, Karma finds her to be the easiest person of the opposite sex to talk to, Okuda feels relaxed around Karma in general, and Karma thinks Okuda is cute.

With these foundational details in mind and by reading beyond what the series gives us, here are a few points that make me believe in Karma and Okuda’s chemistry.

Okuda is not spineless

While she appears to be helpless and shy, she can stand her ground on what she believes in. Much like others in 3-E, she is her own character and doesn’t exist to be that token straight ship for Karma. During the class civil war, she chose the “save” team because she believes that if science can destroy, it can also save.

Anime: S2 Ep 17; Manga: Ch 144 - Okuda chooses the Blue team to save Koro-sensei

They could have easily put her in Karma’s team because of friendship and loyalty but the choice to “kill” would simply be against Okuda’s caring and harmless nature, one of the main traits why Karma is so comfortable around her. Later into the game, Isogai and Maehara talk about who they think would win and Okuda yells out that she wants Karma to win, despite being in the “save” team. This shows her own resolve and ability to separate her personal principles from her relationship with Karma.

Manga: Ch 147 - Okuda states why she wants Karma to win

It’s not that she wants Koro-sensei to die, it's that she understood what killing Koro-sensei means for Karma. She, of all people, knew the hard work Karma put on behind the scenes. When others simply dismiss Karma’s achievements as “genius,” she (and Koro-sensei) knew that Karma works hard, no matter how much he tries to hide that side of him to the world. This comes with his resolve that he is not the best and he has to put in effort if he wants to be the most capable in reaching his goal. Okuda sees all that. Given the choice, Okuda would rather save Koro-sensei, yet if things don’t go her way, she trusts that Karma earned the chance to fulfill his goal. This duality illustrates that whether the class decides to save or kill, she can accept it wholeheartedly. She wouldn’t have regrets because she gave it her best shot from a decision she made herself.

Anime: S2 Ep 1 - Karma hides evidence of him studying hard on the last day of summer break

In relationships, it’s important to have set boundaries for what you share with your partner and the things that make you, you. Okuda’s character exemplifies this well as she is not shown to be a side character that follows Karma around, she’s a friend whom Karma can share his vulnerabilities with while being able to keep her individuality intact. While she is known to be lacking in the ability to communicate, in the end, she’s able to say what’s on her mind when it matters—without any filters. She is brave and strong in her own way and has the capability to provide a new perspective—a trait that can stimulate Karma’s intellect. I believe this would blend well in their relationship because Karma seems to be the type who would get bored hanging out with someone who can’t keep up with him. This shows that their relationship can be an equal exchange of support and trust rather than one being subservient or wary of the other.

Additionally, her pure honesty and lack of fear for Karma is a perfect example of how she can stand up on her own. Everyone is afraid of Karma to some extent which makes them avoid him, possibly right according to how Karma likes to push people away with his behavior. Having someone whose basic nature is to not get swept away by the norm, to be able to choose for herself in how she views Karma, and to be overall honest with her intents really paves the way for a mutual trusting relationship.

Anime: S1 Ep 8 - The girls in class find Karma attractive but scary but Okuda disagrees.

What I find interesting in Okuda’s lack of fear for Karma is that she says this even after seeing him directly start a fight with delinquents the day before. This is episode 8, 3 episodes after her debut in episode 5. Assuming that Karma only started approaching her after learning about her poison-making skills, that’s quite a short period to get to know Karma—a known violent delinquent and the most skilled fighter in class—and to claim that he is “not that scary.” This implies that by this time, they have started to get to know each other better, Karma probably treats her well, and that they’ve interacted enough off-screen to arrive at the conclusion that he is not scary. Much like how Karma’s interest in her comes from her chemistry skills rather than her looks, this girl knows Karma is more than his external features and she can speak her mind even though it’s contrary to the public opinion.

Karma’s character development

Manga: Ch 19 - The boys ask Karma who he’s interested in among the girls in class

From the key scene that fueled this ship, many may claim that Karma is just using her for personal gain. I personally believe this argument is made by people who stopped understanding character growth at season 1 or simply cannot grasp at all that humans change over time. As with a lot of relationships, the interest in other people has to start somewhere. For Karma, the interest starts here with the maturity level of a 15 year-old prankster. Being one of the main characters, Karma goes through character development in the way he views the world, himself, and the people surrounding him. He changes a lot in a span of one year so it wouldn’t be impossible to believe that his interest in Okuda grows beyond having a convenient drug dealer.

One common trait that makes Karma comfortable around people like Nagisa and Okuda is that they are seemingly harmless to him. The statement and intent sounds problematic as a standalone but it’s important to point out how Karma uses this information in his relationships. A typical toxic psychopath would prey on their harmlessness to bully them into taking advantage of them. Karma’s comfort hanging around harmless friends stems more from their inability to hurt him rather than his capability to hurt them. Although Karma is labeled as a violent delinquent, he isn’t a low-level scum-type delinquent that starts a fight for the sake of fighting. As far as I can remember, all cases of Karma’s problematic delinquent behavior is fighting with strangers who provoked him first or he was actually trying to defend someone weaker. His friendship with Nagisa started with a common interest and he was comfortable until he felt threatened by Nagisa’s dormant skill for assassination. Not once did he try to take advantage of Nagisa’s pacifist nature for his personal gains. The same applies for his friendship with Okuda—she piqued his interests with her chemistry skills, he learns that she is harmless and comfortable to be with, and a genuine friendship evolves from there. His interest in her skills may be mischievous but he never showed any aggression or intent to take advantage of Okuda. Neither did he force or threaten her to do those for her. She even wrote that she was able to experience challenging experiments because of his requests in her yearbook message to Karma, something that sounds like she actually enjoyed the fruit of his mischievous intents.

Anime: S1 Ep 8 - Karma tells why he’s interested in Okuda

For those who believe that this scene is a weak foundation for liking someone, well, at that point, Karma hasn’t really developed a romantic type of interest in her. As mentioned, this is how his interest in her begins, not the sole reason for him to be attracted to her. Playing around, making mischief happen, sharing fun times is something that develops friendships. A good friendship is the solid foundation for a comfortable romantic relationship later on. Character development is a real thing and these two won’t have the brain of mischievous middle-schoolers for the rest of their lives.

Anime: S2 Ep 6 - The Witch and The Knight used chloroform to save the day

Karma can feel at ease with Okuda

During the Test of Courage, Karma and Okuda were paired up which gave them time alone to talk about something that’s been bothering Karma. As we all know, Karma never shows his vulnerabilities to anyone at this point in time, not even around classmates who are known to get along with him. Koro-sensei had to earn it by looking out for him and it took time for him to warm up yet even then, he wouldn’t be caught casually sharing something as personal as his fear. The exception is Okuda. The series never explicitly shows how Okuda earned that trust but this scene paints something unusual in Karma’s well-guarded nature. It’s not impossible that they’ve shared enough moments off-screen—moments valuable enough for Okuda to earn Karma’s trust halfway through the school year. To note, it appears that Okuda never even initiated asking Karma what’s bothering him and yet, Karma simply shared what’s on his mind to her.

Anime: S2 Ep 1 - Karma talks about his fear to Okuda during the Test of Courage

We don’t actually see this kind of vulnerability display around friends that Karma spent a lot of fun times with on-screen such as Nakamura and Terasaka. During the civil war, Nakamura notices something unusual in Karma, as if something is bothering him but Karma immediately brushes it off and shows his usual face excusing it as having just woken up. Karma and Nakamura have been shown to get along well as fellow pranksters, possibly with more lines in scenes together than Okuda and Karma ever had in the entire series, yet for some reason, this friendship hasn’t reached the point where Karma can at least give a hint of what’s bothering him when he’s alone with Nakamura even after she asks him about his thoughts.

Manga: Ch 144 - Nakamura notices something unusual about Karma at the start of the class civil war

As for Terasaka, he seems to have earned a teasingly trusting friendship with Karma. Terasaka gives his trust in being manipulated by Karma’s wits and Karma seems to show acknowledgement for how this pseudo-Takaoka has grown. Yet the most Karma would show around him is a vague suggestion that he would like to see him in the real world again someday as colleagues. Perhaps this is simply how men communicate with each other but I guess with everything they’ve experienced, Karma acknowledges some sort of friendship with Terasaka, but not enough for him to expound or eloquently communicate why he would like to see Terasaka as a politician when he himself becomes a bureaucrat. Karma’s unsolicited suggestion for Terasaka hints at his vision for his future and how he sees someone like Terasaka in it but his language doesn’t scratch the surface of intimate vulnerability as it did around Okuda in the test of courage.

Anime: S2 Ep 9 - Karma tells Terasaka to become a politician after career counseling with Koro-sensei

Throughout the series, we see Karma come out of his small world and slowly connecting and caring for his classmates. He gets along quite well with them and appreciates their company and how this class allows him to be himself. All this is temporary as they will go their separate ways once they graduate. In addition, Karma also appears to be the type to value the quality friendships he has built. This would imply that in order to maintain a bond with him after graduation, Karma would have to actively show an interest in connecting with them. In the case of Okuda, he seems to be interested in her enough to look forward to spending more time with her after graduation, as shown in his yearbook message to her stating that his year was made more fun with her around and that he’s looking forward for more.

It seems in each relationship he has, there exists an aspect that makes one distinct from the others. The existence of shared interests and getting along, a sense of comfort and security without fear of being betrayed, the willingness to extend effort in seeing them again, and the extent of being able to express in detail his vulnerabilities and deeper musings seem to be some distinct factors that make up Karma’s quality relationships. While each notable friendship satisfies at least one or two categories, none of them have all four except Okuda. The presence of all these qualities in his relationship with Okuda makes her stand out and have the potential to grow from good mischievous friends to lifetime supportive partners.

In the case of battle compatibility, Okuda may be far from giving Karma direct assistance in the battlefield. However, there’s an angle I wish to discuss that makes me think of how it translates to their compatibility. One scene that oddly stood out for me was during their encounter with delinquents in their Kyoto trip. The delinquents attacked, leaving the boys unconscious, subsequently kidnapping Kayano and Kanzaki. Okuda managed to slip away and hide leaving her to check on the boys when the environment became safe.

Anime: S1 Ep 7 - Okuda reappears apologizing for hiding when the delinquents attacked.

What made this scene interesting is that Okuda could have been kidnapped along with Kayano and Kanzaki and the result would have been the same. The boys could have read the trip manual and called Koro-sensei. Sure enough, Koro-sensei could single-handedly save them once they got to the hideout. It didn’t matter whether one, two, or three unarmed girls got kidnapped. So why paint this scene with her being able to slip away without the delinquents getting a chance to grab her?

My interpretation for this small detail is that Karma doesn’t always have to worry about Okuda. Karma gets into a lot of fights. Even in his future career as a bureaucrat, he will surely get into dangerous situations involving politicians. He has always been the type to be on guard 24/7. Even back when he was comfortable around Nagisa who he believed to be harmless and a good friend, he couldn’t let his guard down. Imagine the stress that burdens his shoulders having to keep his guard up for himself and having to extend that to another person. Wouldn’t that be too much for him to sustain in the long run?

Anime: S2 Ep 18 - The feeling Karma got when Nagisa sneakily poked his back while looking for him in WcDonalds

Anime: S2 Ep 18 - Karma and Nagisa hanging out in the middle of their second year

For someone without exemplary combat abilities like Okuda, slipping away to safety is a smart move. Even at that moment, Karma acknowledged that she did the right thing. Of course we know this is not the type of running away in order to abandon a comrade. I believe it’s safe to claim that nobody in 3-E would truly go that route. What Okuda did was wise and if the scenario were a little different, slipping away could have given her the chance to send support, prepare weapons, and an overall better fighting chance than just standing there frozen or getting herself kidnapped. She slipped away using quick thinking and if you think about it, it takes skill to sneak away unnoticed when both ends of a narrow ally are surrounded by big, menacing delinquents. Her ability to act wisely by herself can definitely be a load off Karma’s chest knowing that the people he cares for can take care of themselves should he be rendered unable to protect them.

Additionally, Okuda’s nature is the type that Karma can trust to be capable enough to protect herself without feeling that she’s a threat to him, something rare among his relationships with other friends. This detail is small and subtle but it hints her potential supportive and reassuring dynamic with Karma wherein Okuda can safely lend background assistance without worrying a combat-ready Karma. As Karma mentions back at her later in the series, running away is also a battle strategy. Whether he learned this technique from Okuda or not is a mystery but I like to think that towards the end of the series and almost a year of trust and friendship, some of Okuda’s traits and mindsets have rubbed off on Karma enough for him to adopt it in his strategies.

Anime: S2 Ep 23 - Karma grabs Okuda’s wrist to get away from danger

For someone as cocky as Karma, being able to pull off a humble-yet-wise move is something noteworthy. This humility could be the mixed influence of Koro-sensei’s care and Okuda’s nature. Not only does Okuda provide a load off his shoulders, she is also capable of bringing new perspectives in solving problems for Karma.

In a long-term relationship, Karma deserves to feel at ease. Whether as a friend or a life partner, he deserves someone he can trust not just in opening up, but also at times when he’s vulnerable. For me, this is something that his dynamic with Okuda can provide. She may not be the best to fight alongside others in the frontline but she can provide background support so Karma can be guaranteed that he is not alone in a fight and he will not be coming home to a lonely place after a fight.

From being an approachable friend that he gets along with to a partner he can trust and be vulnerable around, all these seem to point at a special connection Karma feels around Okuda—enough for her to be just the right support he needs while being able to treat her right. Okuda may not talk or stand out much but Karma seems to see traits in her that make him gravitate towards her with ease. She doesn’t stand out in the general crowd but she stands out for Karma, where her traits are appreciated. 

____________________

Notes: I have the tendency to lean towards the less popular ships in Anime (such as Yukihira Souma x Tadakoro Megumi in Shokugeki no Souma) over the obvious ships in the spotlight. I believe it has something to do with my inclination to more mature and supportive relationships that appeal to people in their 20s rather than hormone-induced pairings that sound like high school flings targeted for 14 year old girls. To note, I was at that age once but once you hit your 20s, you realize that some ships are more problematic than you remember. This is my second time watching AC (first time was in 2016) and I honestly don’t recall shipping them back then. I don’t even recall picking up on karumana hints before. But now after rewatching it in my 20s, I find it quite intriguing how I find this couple so cute, while knowing that I’ve grown out of my shoujo manga days. These days, I don’t have tolerance for shoujo-esque ships that are practically “it’s not sexual harassment if he’s hot.” Looking back, a lot of shoujo mangas/anime were like that in my teenage years. While Karma started out with high Marty Stu potential like shoujo main boys, AC developed its characters well such that their characters and future career paths were more realistic—something you come to appreciate as someone who has already gone through their own 7-year timeskip.

[lvstcd]

#59 with john b, #75 with jj having like a angsty!love hate relationship with the reader ooo, #87 with john b

“can you dance with me?” “you’re not mad?” x john b routledge

warning: swearing

tonight was one of the infamous keggers that you and the pogues would throw every friday night. you and your boyfriend, john b, had gotten into it an argument earlier about him inviting his ex girlfriend, sarah cameron. you knew that they had ended on good terms with a mutual agreement that they weren’t working out. but now here you were, deeply inlove with the brunette mop head who you called your best friend and boyfriend. 

as you grab a red solo cup filled to the brim with milwaukee beverage, you start to zone out, staring at the ground as a flashback of the argument from this morning. 

“babe, calm down, i just invited her to the kegger, tonight, it’s not like i proposed to her.” john b exclaims, walking towards the front door, his keys in his hands since he had to go work a couple shifts before the party tonight, then he would go pick up the kegs and head to the boneyard. “exactly, johnny, you fucking invited your ex girlfriend to a party where people will be drinking. she’s a fucking lightweight and will be all over you and i will have to watch and beat a bitch.” you yell, throwing your hands in the air. he rolls his eyes and lets the screen door slam behind the two of you as he stalks off towards his beat up van. 

“you’re overreacting.” he mutters, walking to the driver’s side of the van as he averts his gaze to you, observing your worried and hurt expression. “fine. see if i care if she comes. ill invite anthony.” you scoff, crossing your arms and turning around, not bothering to watch john b get pissed at the mention of your ex. “oh for fucks sake, y/n, anthony is a piece of shit and sarah isn’t. you’re just jealous because i invited sarah to the kegger, and you shouldn’t be because i love you and not her!” you stop and turn to him, a evident frown on your lips at his insult towards you. 

“screw off, john.” you sob slightly, stopping off towards the chateau, leaving john b to flinch at his name. you never called him john unless you were genuinely upset or mad at him, so he knew that he would have to go straight to you at the kegger. 

you glance up at the guy who handed you the cup and smile before turning around and walking towards kie and pope who are standing by the dance floor, awkwardly talking about god knows what. “y/n!” kie smile at you, throwing her arm around your shoulders as you gulp down half of your beer, a grin on your lips. “hey baby!” you giggle as you inhale a big breath of salty air, your nerves calming. “have you seen john b yet?” pope asks as he fiddles around with his cup, glancing around for the brunette. you shake your head no and shrug, “don’t give a fuck if he’s here or not.” you mutter before taking another drink of your beer. kie shoots you a worried look, dragging you off away from pope. 

“spill.” she whispers lowly, her eyes not leaving yours. “kie, im not spilling my beer, that’s a waste.” you chuckle, bringing the lip of the cup back up to your mouth. “you know what i mean, y/n/n.” she states a slight frown on her lips. you shrug again and rub chin, wiping off some beer that spilt on you. “john and i got into it before he left for work... he invited sarah to the kegger and i just... i lost it i guess. i did overreact but then he called me jealous and it hurt because im not jealous i just don’t want his ex here.” 

kie nods and kicks some sand with her foot before looking back at you, “i think you are jealous. if you weren’t, you’d be fine with sarah coming.” you groan and throw your head back, “i’m not jealous!” kie chuckles and pokes your shoulder, “yes, you are. just admit it. it’ll make things easier for you if you admit it.” you snort and rub your eyes, letting out a loud sigh. “fine, i was fucking jealous, better?” kie smiles and links your arms together heading towards the dance floor. “yes. now, come on. i can’t handle change by r.o.a.r. is playing.” she smirks at you, walking backwards, almost bumping into random people. 

you both start to dance, letting the music take over you and putting you in your own world, everyone around you fading. john b slowly makes his way over to you, watching you feel yourself and move along with the music. kie glances at john b and walks towards him, patting his shoulder before walking away, causing you to come back to reality and notice your boyfriends presence about 6 feet in front of you. “can you dance with me?” you yell so he can hear you over the music and chatter around the beach as you still sway along with the music. 

he makes his way over to you and you wrap your arms around his neck, resting your head on his shoulder. “you’re not mad?” he asks, his hands resting on your lower back. you shake your head no and continue to move, staring at the sand as the music takes over. “i’m sorry for calling you jealous.” he mutters into your head, placing a kiss on your hairline. “don’t be. i was jealous. i overreacted. lets move on, okay?” you ask, glancing up at him, a small smile on your lips. he nods and places a kiss on your nose before resting his forehead against yours. 

“i love you and only you. you know that right?” he asks as he continues to stare into your eyes. you nod and smile up at him, “i love you and only you, too.” he smiles and places his lips on yours, everyone around you fading once again, but it’s only you and john b this time. 

“lets bury the hachet.” “fuck your hatchet.” x jj maybank 

warning: swearing

to say you didn’t like jj maybank was an understatement. the blue-eyed blonde mop was on the top of your ‘fuck off’ list. you were close with kie, pope, john b, and sarah, but for some reason, you and jj couldn’t even agree on the same topic. if you said you like mac n cheese, jj would claim mac n cheese was disgusting, even though he ate it like everyday. 

no one knew why you and jj couldn’t get along. well, everyone but you and jj knew why you two couldn’t get along. kie would always point out the obvious sexual tension in the room but both of you denied the accusation and claimed that you two wouldnt fuck if you were the last two people on earth and had taken hormone pills. 

you were thinking about all of this while you sat in the chateau in between kie and pope who were focused on john b who was talking about something unimportant. “y/n, you good?” pope asks, turning the attention to you. you nod and smile at your friends while jj snorts, taking a sip of his beer. “probably day dreaming about doing me.” you scoff and flip jj off, “in your fucking dreams, maybank.” you sneer at the boy as he mocks you. “more like in your dreams, y/l/n.” 

“oh wow, stealing my comeback, not a shocker since your thick skull can’t think of anything else.” you shoot back, fiddling with your fingers while your friends silently facepalm and groan at the argument at hand. “oh fuck off, your dumbass couldn’t think of any comebacks if you tried.” 

“says you! you steal my comebacks all the time, you fucking idiot.”

“suck my dick, y/n.”

“how can i suck something that doesn’t exist?”

“ill show you it exists-”

“can both of you shut the hell up?! we’re all so tired of hearing your fighting. we dread being near you two because we know exactly what will happen. just fuck already and get over it, goddamn.” john b blurts, causing you and jj to go silent and avoid each other’s presence. “im going to take a nap.” you respond, standing up and walking into john b’s room, your dedicated spot for naps. 

when you close your eyes, you hear the door open and close. assuming it’s john b, you ignore it, knowing he’s most likely going to give you a pep talk about the incident before. “can you wake the hell up?” jj asks, causing you to sit up quickly and glare at the boy. “can you get the fuck out?” you spit, falling back onto the bed and rolling onto your side. 

“i didn’t come in here to argue, y/n.” you scoff and close your eyes, letting your thoughts wander through your head, “then get the hell out.” you mutter, cracking your neck so you can get comfortable. “can you stop being childish for a goddamn second?”

“says the 16 year old with the mental age of 2.” you respond, still keeping your eyes closed. “oh my god, forget it, i’m not even going to try.” jj starts while walking towards the door, slightly twisting the knob while you sit up confused. “try what?” you ask, confused as to why the blonde came in to talk to you anyways when he knew it would be a fight. 

“john b is right. i’ve noticed that they all have been making less plans with us and it’s because of our fighting so i came in here because if we both really love our friends, we need to grow the hell up.” 

“how the fuck do i need to grow up?” 

“just shut up, and listen. let’s bury the hatchet.”

“fuck your hatchet.” you sass, causing jj to roll his eyes and run a hand through his hair. “you’re so fucking stubborn.” jj mutters, pacing around the room, the gears in his head turning. “wow jj, thank you. that’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me ever.” you respond sarcastically before going silent as you hear the door click. you and jj turn to each other and run to the door, realizing that john b’s door locks from the outside. 

“dude, what the fuck?” you ask, hearing whispers from the other side of the door. “you two can come out when you make up and stop insulting each other 24/7. in the meantime, we’re going to the wreck.” you hear john b explain before you hear the screen door slam shut and the house fills up in silence. 

“shit.” you mutter, turning around and flop on john b’s bed. “if you would’ve just buried the hatchet.” jj mumbles, sliding down the wall and putting his knees to hsi chest. “oh fuck off.” you mutter, your hands in your hair as you stare at the ceiling. 

after 10 minutes in silence, jj sparks up a conversation. “why do you hate me?” he asks, staring at the floor boards as you turn your gaze to him, your eyebrows furrowing together. “what do you mean? you hate me..” you respond, confused as to where this was coming from. 

“i don’t hate you. it just seems like you hate me so i act like i hate you too.” he mumbles, fiddling with his fingers. “i don’t hate you, jj. you just annoy me and make these stupid comments that set me off, so i respond.” 

“i make the comments because it feels like a habit between us. all we do is fight. i don’t know of a time where we haven’t actually said something nice to each other. you’re not a bad person, y/n.” you nod at him and slightly smile, “neither are you.” 

“so what happens now?” he asks as you shrug and cross your legs. “wait for them to get back.” he chuckles, “no not that. what happens to us? do we go back to fighting all the time or do we become friends or do we just not associate with each other?” 

“what do you want to do?” you ask, biting your lip as he looks away in thought, a small smile on his lips. “i want to get to know you. i want to know everything about you. so start talking, y/n/n. they won’t be home soon.” you smile at the boy and nod as you start to spill information about yourself, feeling relieved that you two won’t fight anymore. 

“that’s my ex-boyfriend.” “well kiss me so they see.” x john b routledge 

you and john b had been nonchalantly flirting with each other over the past couple months. you both hadn’t discussed the situation at hand, but everyone was used to it. kie called john b your boyfriend and pope called you john b’s girlfriend. you both would disagree with the titles and leave it at that. 

you and the pogues were on the beach, enjoying the sun and catching some waves when john b runs over to you and scoops you up before running into the water before throwing you in, a yelp leaving your lips as the ice cold water hits your skin. “routledge, you’re dead.” you glare, a small smirk on your lips as you start to make your way to john b who is running towards the shore towards kie and pope. you shove john b with a laugh before freezing in your spot at the sight of your ex in front of you. “oh shit...” you mutter, turning around so your ex can’t see your face. “what?” john b asks, noticing your weird behavior. 

he glances around behind you before turning his attention back to you, “what’s up?” you groan and glance behind you. “that’s my ex-boyfriend...” you mutter, quickly pointing at the guy who was now looking at you. john b nods and glances at you, “well kiss me so they see.” he mutters, grasping your attention. “what?” 

“kiss me so he see’s. did i stutter?” he chuckles, bringing his hands up to your face. you heart beats in your chest since this would be your and john b’s first shared kiss. you quickly lean forward and place your lips on his, hearing your ex scoff behind you and stomp off. yet, you two still don’t pull away. 

when you both pull away for a breath, john b smiles down at you, his hands still resting on your cheeks. “your exes should come around more often.” he smiles at you as your cheeks heat up and you shove his shoulder, “shut up.” 

taglist: @jjsredhat @livinglikepogues @jjsbxtch @jj-bxby @baby-pogue @jellyfishbeansontoast @ilovejjmaybank 

[hell-much]

RFTA - Cutting Room Floor - 5

A complete alternative (a bit more angsty/dramatic) version of chapter 28, where the Viserion attacks. Sansa and Margaery do go for a walk in the Gods Wood and end up separated from Olin during and after the attack.

...

Sansa had cursed Jon numerous occasions during this day, several times quietly, a couple of times out loud, to his face. The discussion with him had left her with a hesitant sense of reconciliation, grudgingly so, but at least the appeal to to slap him in the back of the head had ceased sometime after the sun had set.

It yielded at sufficient force with a line of words from Margaery.

“This is not the best thought.”

In the morning hours Margaery had been considerably delighted at the prospect of going for a walk through the Gods Wood. Thereafter on the same day, as Gilly had turned up to watch over the Little Lord, Margaery’s enthusiasm had been wavering. At the shake of her head that followed Sansa was ready to hurt Jon. 

“There is nothing scandalous or even improper about us taking a walk,” Sansa had insisted pulling Margaery to the side of the chamber out of earshot from Gilly who was fuzzing over the little Lord, and had offered Margaery’s hand in her own a delicate, encouraging squeeze. “We are not doing anything forbidden.”

Margaery had studied their joined hands and glanced towards Gilly. 

“I am aware you had other burdens in King’s Landing, but your time there must have taught you how dangerous gossip is, how rapid it can spread.”

“No one will even see us out in the Gods Wood,” Sansa’d insisted.

“Can you guarantee that?”

Sansa had exhaled soundly and bent her head towards the ceiling.

Of course not.

She could also not guarantee that there wasn’t anyone looking through the keyhole in this juncture, simply she found it somewhat inconceivable. They had gone back and forth for a while, and Margaery had declared her concern another good six times before Sansa’d convinced her to join at least for a short while. 

Sansa did marvel how much of this idea still would do Margaery any good. Or if she was simply so insistent out of sheer spite against her brother; against strong-headed Northerners that had no business showing interest in her personal life. 

Margaery might have concurred with Jon’s appeal to keep things discreet, and Sansa had not outright opposed to it then, but she couldn’t help the quiet thought that had pieced itself together into her mind amidst all that.

Perhaps outright confrontation would bring them a vast deal more than any pretending. 

In the end, yes, they needed to be smart, but what did that entail?

Margaery wouldn’t go anywhere anytime soon, not if Sansa had a say in it. And even if they averted a scandal now, wouldn’t the potential retaliation from prevailing and feigning, bear a grander, or equally strong, chance of making matters worse for them in the future?

Now they had the advantage on their side that there were bigger things to deal with; things to provide distraction. 

Sansa did not want to make any wagers on it, but felt that for the larger part -while disapproving without question- the Northern Lords would yet come to terms with her involvement with Margaery, a lot easier than to Jon’s with the Dragon Queen. 

It was conceivable that was just naïve wishful thinking. 

In the precaution that Margaery insisted on after leaving their chambers, Sansa’d made sure they remained on side passages and servant staircases. Two guards were all they came across on the path to the Gods Wood, and once arrived there it was so silent, she could have been deceived into believing they were the only people left in Winterfell. 

Margaery took note of the solitude too, because she caught up from going three steps behind Sansa, to strolling by her side, drawing the hood of her cloak she’d used to obscure her face back. 

“The days are becoming shorter.”

Sansa did not look at her as she let the remark settle.

So she had not been imagining it.

In the four days since the Dragon Queen had arrived they’d lost almost an hour of daylight. It could not be much later than the night that Sansa had come back from the Wolf’s Wood, the night Margaery had been in labour, and then when nearing, Winterfell had been dipped into the most brilliant sunset colours; now it was pitch dark around them.

“It must be the weather,” Sansa decided a note afterward. “The Maester claims we should expect a snowstorm.”

It was a clear night, so her speculation did not withstand any deeper examination and she was content Margaery did not engage in any. 

Pushing the thought elsewhere, Sansa twirled in her stride and arrived to a halt facing Margaery, the solid roof of crimson leaves above their heads; beautiful eyes sparkled in the moon as Margaery looked up at her, startled for a flash, again smiling when two pair of gloved hands entangled. 

“Admit it,” Sansa demanded.

Margaery blinked in bewilderment. “Admit what?”

“That we would have spoiled such a mild night, sitting inside.”

Sansa took the fraction of a step closer to her, it did not take a full one to feel Margaery’s warmth against herself, her softness; they stood so close it was hard to work out who formed the small visible puffs of air that vaporized in the cold between them. 

“I have never noticed that about you before,” Margaery mused smiling. 

“Noticed what?”

“That need to be right,” Margaery returned with soft challenge. 

“It’s not my fault that I generally am right.” Sansa shrugged and leaned in. “I am receptive to compelling arguments.”

In the very last second before she could lean down and join their lips, Margaery ducked aside and drew a step backward from her, her face still tender, but her eyes determined, serious. 

Part of Sansa wanted to groan, felt frustrated with the -in her eyes- futile precaution. Only today had carried enough arguments already. It had been a small battle getting Margaery to come here in the first place, she would not spoil it by pressing on something Margaery wanted to be -however paranoid it may have been- vigilant about. 

Sansa examined her up for the length of another breath, caught the mild blush on her cheeks and the quiet persistence in her eyes. Letting go of only one of her hands Sansa judged not to comment and instead returned to their slow stroll. 

“I have been pondering about all that went on today,” Margaery revealed as she slipped into step next to her. 

Sansa was not for a moment soothed or deluded by the mellow tone Margaery strived for. 

“With what result?”

“Perhaps it would be best if I went into my former room, the one down the hall.”

Sansa denied herself the reaction of shaking her head and outright denying the proposal. Instead, she continued walking next to her in patience, sought her strongest to look at the positive side of the notion. 

If she was genuine, it meant Margaery was in fact doing better, was growing stronger. Only two days ago she’d been so depended on her, so yearning for Sansa’s presence, she’d never would have had it in her to offer it in the first place. Considering that, Sansa could almost forget how much she loathed the thought.

“Why,” Sansa demanded gently. “Explain it to me.”

“I figured from the start staying in your chambers was not the best solution,” Margaery voiced her unease with a sigh. “Only then I did not have it in me to put up the fight I should have.”

“For how miserable you were you put up a good portion of a fight.”

“People will learn about my being here. The claim that you are concealing my presence or that I require to recover will become weaker. It will become harder and harder to explain why I am living in a chamber not deemed for my status, why I am not only sharing your chamber but your bed too.”

Sansa replied nothing, regarded only the steps they were taking through untouched snow. 

“I do not predict that the Lord who addressed your brother will keep his knowledge to himself, and once word spreads, it would be best not to hand people any more reason for further suspicions.” Now it was Margaery who had stopped and shifted to her, her expression holding gentle urge. “Believe me, I want this as little as you do, but this is about more than just us. I could not bear it, if I, if our affection, was endangered you or your house.” 

And I cannot endure the concept of not having you around, Sansa thought. 

It was ludicrous, but standing here, looking at her, the outcome of what she’d chose if it came down to it, did not appear complicated. 

She’d chose Margaery in a heartbeat.

It was a fatal, a negligent course of thought, but all on her mind, all her concerns throughout the day, every judgment, even those regarding the future of Winterfell were inevitably interwoven with Margaery. 

“Say I concede,” Sansa started out. “Say you move out of our chambers, what would change?”

“For one, our relationship would not appear as evident. We wouldn’t give gossip that much of a target.”

Sansa looked down at their joined hands, thus up into still determined eyes. 

“Are you positive about that?” She moved on before Margaery could find a meet. “Because as I understand it… I’d still be spending every waking minute by your side. Do you expect, us flying back and forth between our chambers would give people less to chat about?”

What that would that look like? Her going there early in the morning hours, leaving late at night. Perhaps with clothes wrinkled from resting on the bed together, lips swollen from kissing, hairdos unkempt from fingers brushing through it.

Margaery looked at her with sympathetic, but likewise tired eyes. “I am not claiming that it is the ideal solution, but we cannot just do nothing.”

“Can’t we?” Sansa challenged. “I expect any impulsive action, any arrangement not seen through would just proof those watching us, that there is something to hide.”

“There is something to hide,” Margaery said with a soft smile, alike when it was evident the case Sansa was making compelled to her at last.

“In my eyes we have two options,” Sansa carefully advanced further.

“And those are?”

“We could end it now,” with those words Sansa dared to lean closer again, slid her free hand beneath Margaery’s cloak as she talked and settled it on her waistline, tugged her close, so tight that there was not an inch between their faces. “Stop doing everything that could be viewed unsuitable.”

Even as they were so incredibly close she could sense Margaery’s torso rising with every breath she drew, just to suggest it out loud, to present the prospect of breaking off what was passing between them throbbed in her. It didn’t matter that it just had the purpose of getting a rise out of Margaery, to establish how preposterous it was. It ached.

She pulled her closer; tightened her grip and if just for the incoherent fear that Margaery would duck away again, at a stage where she already blended into her hold.

“Or?” Margaery’s voice was a tad rougher than before.

“Or, we proceed as we have, act like there is nothing inappropriate about what we are presenting and dare them to prove us wrong.”

Margaery exhaled and shook her head, never leaving Sansa out of her sight. “That is setting events all too simple, sweet girl.”

“We will be smart about it,” Sansa vowed, her head dipping forward bringing their foreheads together. “We’ll keep doors bolted, we observe our behaviour and words when servants are around. We can carry an altogether innocent appearance.”

She would have been just about ready to ban the servants from her chambers altogether, make her own bed, set up her own fires, carry her own meals from the kitchens; that and then some more if it only meant that she could keep falling asleep and waking up in Margaery’s arms; kissing her when she felt like it, holding her when either of them needed consolation. 

“I think you are belittling the threats this could draw to us,” Margaery pointed out. 

Sansa shook her head, hating how anxious Margaery sounded. “I know it scares you. What transpired, what was done to Loras, was awful, but it won’t happen here.”

The enchantment of the moment gone.

Margaery drew away, considered her earnestly. “Don’t be foolish. It could. And quickly. It’s winter and there’ll be a war. People will suffer shortages of just about everything, they’ll be freezing, hungry, mourning their sons and fathers. It’s extremely simple for humans to look for someone to blame in their suffering; a reason the Gods would bring all this upon them, forsake them like that.”

Those reasons sat firmer with Sansa then she wished to admit. She’d seen what people were capable of carried by desperation. 

“You know,” she uttered then, smiling faintly at her through those dark prospects, taking a terse glance around. “This is where I thought about kissing you for the first time.”

Margaery smiled and peered down to the ground for a note, the soft grasp on her fingers tightening.

“I wish you would have,” was the hushed response an instant later. 

She did not need to spell out why,  every moment where they were not together, not kissing, touching, holding each other seemed spoiled. 

“Four days ago, I was convinced I’d lose you,” Sansa took a strong containing breath. “I sat there by your side, held your hand and cursed every single time when I denied myself to do  as much as smile at you.”

Large eyes peered up at her loaded with grief, while she quietly waited for her to continue. 

“I am not naive, I am terrified of what could happen, but in the end, I am always more scared of losing you.”

Margaery sighed and rubbed her palms over the arms that were now resting on either side of her waist. “I am terrified of hurting you,” she declared. “Of causing you more pain than I already have. It seems that is all I end up doing, despite my best intentions.”

Sansa shook her head, in the moment she’d lifted a reassuring hand to Margaery’s cheek and was a second away from declaring that she could never hurt her, she could see Margaery’s face clearer than before, illuminated by… something. Saw the frown of confusion blossoming on Margaery’s face, a lot more precisely than she should have. She received her reacting to the brightness, to something in the air around them shifting. 

It had been a windless night, and still she felt gusts pulling on her hair and clothes, heard a rustling of leaves and twigs. 

She saw the blue blazes at first only as a reflection in Margaery’s widening eyes, and with that she wrenched her head skyward and realised they were filling the firmament above them like a roof of bright blinding light.

For a flash it intrigued her, so considerable, she could not follow hands that dragged on her clothes, on her arms and hands, could not give into any command her mind gave her. 

She saw the dragon fly over their head and with it arrived an ear-piercing screech and all she could accomplish was stand there, solid as a rock  and watch as the tree crowns over their heads went up in flames along with the facades of the armoury. 

Only then Margaery’s grip developed sufficient force to pull her to the ground. For a moment they just crouched there, uncertain of what was happening on, why the night was bright as day around them. 

Another cry of the beast ripped them from this rigour they had been captured in. Without uttering a sound, neither of them capable to if they wanted, hands interlaced and they both pushed to unsteady feet and started running. 

The Gods Wood had never appeared as broad as it did in those minutes. Sansa had toured the trail heading to the Weird Wood a thousand times in her life and it had never felt to draw out longer than just now, as intimidating screeches came closer again. 

All she knew was that they needed shelter, they had to get out from the open sky above them. The dispute to where and if they would find it in the direction they headed, alone became obvious when they’d arrived at the gate of the Gods Wood. 

Sansa pushed Margaery against the closest wall as fresh flames from above them struck the building to their right, setting it on fire. 

She hid her face against Margaery shoulders, felt arms claw at her waist, unable to identify if the weeping sound of fear was hers or from Margaery’s.

She felt a violent heat in her back that was infernal, so unbearable that her feet started to run on their own accord, the heat and the screeching the sole indicators that the fire spewing beast was moving away from them. 

The alley way to the courtyard was narrow and more and more people ran alongside them, squeezed rigidly to the wall on their left where the fire had not arrived at so far. The disorder of cries of pain and panic was negligible - albeit horrible on its own - measured to the sight that awaited them in the light of bright blue fires that illuminated the courtyard. 

Sansa came to a shrieking halt, Margaery bumping into her back harshly, when not a foot away from her a man flung himself onto the ground, rolling around and roaring in torment as he pursued to put the flames that had captured his clothing out.

Sansa could smell burned flesh, her mind and stomach revolted when she discovered that it was not the clothing that had caught fire. His armour, what must have been a chain shirt once had melted onto him, was steaming off his burned skin. 

“To the Crypts!” she heard a voice cry out from somewhere. “Everybody move your fucking arses to the Crypts!”

She had no chance to consider, to debate it, she could merely follow, perceived herself shoved along in the stream of bodies around them that followed the call, could do nothing but urge her feet to keep moving, stepping over those who remained battered on the ground. 

The stairs to the Crypts were jammed with people, as cramped as they were and as slippery, from countless feet that had taken them throughout the generations, it was fatally hard to watch her step, and she had herself slipping twice, merely obtained a grip of Margaery’s waist another time, alone scarcely kept her upright and from falling.

If either of them, if anybody, fell here, there was nothing that would save them. The crowd pushed rapidly and forced itself forward in fear for their lives, they would trample anything in their course into the ground mercilessly.

It felt like a miracle they arrived at the bottom of the steps unharmed and Sansa pulled Margaery into the first alcove she encountered not populated by people yet; pushed Margaery backward against the wall where tombs of people, of ancestors she did not know, were lined up to the ceiling. 

After the intense light that had submerged them minutes ago her eyes required a stage to accommodate. Her hands did what her sight did not accomplish yet; in mere seconds she’d ripped her gloves off, disposed them hurriedly on the floor and then her fingertips ran over Margaery’s face, along her cheeks, into her curls, her shoulders, drifted down her torso until they at last settled on her waist, merely halted when she was relatively certain she was unscathed, that she was yet there, still breathing, her heart beating.

Only then she granted herself to slump forward and let tears of relief soak the cloak over Margaery’s shoulder. 

“I am all right,” Margaery promised, urging her face into Sansa’s hair, her voice husky with tears of her own. “I’m all right. It will be all right.”

They stayed there and held each other, while the surrounding noise rose heavier and louder with voices, with shouting, cries, with men calling out for their loved ones. 

“Mama!”

The wail of a child sounded from behind Sansa and with it the relief to have made it here from just minutes ago dissolved into thin air.

It arose within seconds; she felt Margaery grow tense in her arms and then fingers that had been holding onto her started pushing at her instead. Sansa just barely caught her as she sought to slip out of her hold, out of the alcove, in the opposite way than the never-ending surge of people was moving from. 

“No,” Sansa breathed, quiet, but decisively, narrowing her grip on Margaery; pressing her so solidly into the wall, she could not be positive she did not hurt her just then. Only then her voice gained strength, reached close to that of those surrounding them. “Margaery, no!”

She forced her entire frame flat against Margaery, ignored struggling hands that thrust at her shoulders, and held her back with all the strength she had. 

“No!” She echoed more persistently, nudging her full weight into holding Margaery back, blocking her where she was, against the wall, down here, where it was secure. 

She realized what she craved, needed, to do, she understood it and ultimately she could not let her. She could not let her run back out there. Even struggling to make it up the stairs with the dozens, hundreds, of people that poured the other way… going back into the courtyard, out in the open where there was a dragon searing everything in its way to ashes… she’d lose her if she’d let go of her now. 

“They will come down here,” Sansa declared with more confidence than she had, as she continued on keeping Margaery immobilised against herself. “Gilly will bring him here, she’ll bring him to you.”

“You need to let go off me,” Margaery’s voice echoed so forlorn that Sansa was compelled to give in, but she contrived herself to sit this out, to stay rational and vigorous, while Margaery shook her head and every muscle in her body fought against Sansa. 

Sansa pressed her cheek against Margaery’s. “I can’t. I am sorry.”

One hand drew over Margaery’s neck, where she could feel her hair had turned damp from the battle she brought up. “I love you. I cannot let you go out there.”

For a flash it appeared like her words, reason, had reached Margaery’s mind at last, the struggling ceased and she accomplished a small intake of breath.

“I’m sorry,” Margaery whispered back and as she said it her foot collided with Sansa’s shin sharply. Sansa was taken by surprise, had not calculated on Margaery succumbing to that, that it gave Margaery the opportunity she had been counting on for, the chance to shift her aside at last and duck out from under her, leaving Sansa to twist around and grasp out for her. She merely caught a hold of her cloak, hooked it between her fingers, felt it slipping from them in the same note she had seized it. But it didn’t matter. 

She did not need to hold her back; there was no breaking through.

Margaery bounced back from the crowd like a bird trapped in a cage. Sansa watched with a knot in her throat as Margaery tried to force a path between the countless bodies, but she did not stand a chance.

Again and again she sought to strike a clearing, to shift between a gap not bigger than an inch. And again and again she failed, was forced back. 

Sansa’s heart broke for her, because she understood it, understood her, she did; her own sight became foggy with tears as she allowed the image of the small helpless little boy she’d held in her arms and fuzzed about not more than an hour ago; and then she joined her arms around Margaery’s middle and drew her backwards, back into her arms, holding her, Margaery’s back pressed into her front, as tears shook Margaery’s body. 

She’d quit fighting, showed no further struggle; only anguish. 

“Gilly will bring him to us,” Sansa reiterated her promise. “I know she will.” 

She prayed to be right; it was all she could manage. Hoping that Gilly had been quick minded enough to have gotten out of the keep, to get someplace secure. That, and that Margaery would absolve her. For making her go on that damn walk. For holding her back when she wanted to get to her son.

Was she a dreadful person for being glad that Margaery was not getting through? For trying to stop her in the first place from undertaking what every parent would have tried in her position? 

It had formed out of pure and simple selfishness, but she was prepared to restrain Margaery down here if she had to. She’d been so close to losing her once, she’d not endure going even through the fear of that again. 

Oh Gods, please let them be safe, Sansa prayed, squeezing herself closely against Margaery who’d turned into a crying picture of misery in her arms. 

“He’s fine,” Sansa vowed. “I promise you he is fine.” 

On the other side of the alcove she found the tear-filled eyes of a young woman, a young mother who had two small children of her own clinging to her skirts and struggled to contain a crying infant in her arms.

In the far corner she spotted a man pressing himself against the wall, breathing through pain, his shirt hanging off him in rags, his skin shining with angry red burn wounds.

She heard wailing and screaming all around them; heard several strange languages among the cries and appeals to the Gods. 

The trail of people at least had not broken, but at least slowed down, stopped moving forward with the speed it had before. Not for a shortage of people seeking shelter, she realised quickly, but because the Crypts were approaching their absolute capacity, the limit of people that could safely remain in them.

There were no more rushed steps, no more people running, only bodies pressing forward, the Gods only knew how many more behind them yet on the stairs up to the entrance. 

If the attack was still progressing, if more people tried to come down here, the Crypts would shortly become more dangerous than the outside. 

Sansa swallowed, her mouth felt parched, her mind enwrapped with apprehension. 

Someone needed to control the crowds, lead them to other cellars.

She wiped the notion of pursuing to achieve that herself. With the volume surrounding them she had little chance trying to establish herself heard and indeed if… what compelling words could she provide? There was a beast destroying everything above their heads, hardly anybody was mad enough to go up their voluntarily. 

It left her holding onto the hope that someone on top of the stairs had the understanding to close the iron gate; or enough coldness. 

With the fear settling more and more in her breast the grip she had on Margaery became less of a holding her, and more of a holding on. 

Worse, the image struck her like a blow in the gut, if the fires weakened the walls above them enough to collapse they’d be trapped here, all of them, buried alive. 

For a moment breathing became impossibly hard, and she sued her face into Margaery’s hair as the panic threatened to enwrap her and led her hands to shake. Unable to even look at the masses before them she squeezed her eyes shut and inhaled Margaery’s comforting familiar scent. 

“We’ll be fine,” she mumbled to herself, sensing the body in her arms still rocking with laboured breaths and abundant tears. 

If they made it out of here, she’d never be stupid enough again to step a foot down here for shelter, she vowed to herself. She’d sooner run from dragon fire on an open field than getting herself into this trap anew. 

In limited distance she noticed a man with black curly hair, for a second she thought to recognise her brother, wanted to call out, reach out, but found a moment afterward when he shifted his face, it wasn’t him. 

It was shameful how late in all this the thoughts of her family made its course into her awareness. 

Where they down here as well? Someplace in the crowd? 

She could not imagine either Arya or Jon choosing to hide out down here, but then also she could make out soldiers in the crowd in front of them, saw some of them crying. It strived sorrow within her for those brave men who’d lived through horrific battles; this was not something that either of them had ever encountered. 

Yet despite her best intentions, despite wishing she was mistaken, she could not imagine Jon seeking refuge in times of attack, Arya even less so. 

Dear Gods and what about Bran? He had no form of retreating on his own… what if he had not made it out in time? Maybe he had sat down for supper with the rest of them, she conciliated with herself; it not common for him, but not all that uncommon either. 

Please Gods, she prayed silently as she tightened her hold around Margaery. Please let them be fine. 

The first movement that held any purpose since her failed attempt to get out was took its form in a gloved hand that entangled tightly with Sansa’s. 

“It’s too many people,” Margaery whispered, her voice hushed and still throaty, but her words precise, allowing Sansa relief, that she had not desperation absorbed her, even if they expressed a dreadful truth. 

Sansa reciprocated her grip and let her eyes drift over the crowd that had arrived at a complete standstill now, a solid human barricade right before them. 

“Someone will bolt the doors,” she replied. 

“No, they can’t!” The high voice of a little girl startled them both had them look down where the child had turned up from pressing against her mother, shook of the hand that sought to keep her back, and reached out with plumb fingers gripping onto Margaery’s cloak with anxiety. “Father promised he’d come after us! They can’t close the doors!”

She could not be older than four, or five, her eyes should not have been so filled with terror and fear. No child’s ever should be. 

In genuine awe, Sansa watched Margaery, as she detangled herself from her and crouched down in the tight space until she was at a level with the girl, her hands coming out to smooth along two thick ash blonde braids that were framing the girl’s face. 

“I am certain he is already here and looking for you,” she declared and achieved one of her most winning smiles, despite the tears that had not wholly dried on her cheeks. “There are so many people struggling to get to their families. I reckon it will need a while until everybody has discovered their own little girls and boys.”

She talked with such assurance, such confidence even Sansa believed her, believed that all would be fine. It was hard to understand that this was the same inconsolable woman that had wept in her embrace moments ago. 

“But the dragon,” a large tear rolled over the girl’s cheek. “It was so scary when it--”

Margaery shushed her, gently shaking her head, fresh tears in her own eyes. “I know darling, I am scared too. But we have to be brave now. Your father would want you to be brave and look after your mama and brothers until he gets to you.”

With a corner of her sleeve she wiped at fresh tear stains. 

“She’s not my mama,” the girl sniffed and Sansa saw the woman’s eyes closing in defeat for a short moment, before they focused back on the crying child in her arms. 

The gracious smile was still on Margaery’s lips even when Sansa could see tears spilling down her cheeks. 

“I don’t think that matters now,” she said still softly wiping at the girl’s face. “I tell you what, I have to wait until I get to hold my little boy, maybe I can keep you safe until your father arrives to get you? This way no one is alone until we have all the right families together again.”

The child nodded as more tears dropped down her cheeks and Margaery did not hesitate another moment, raising her up into her arms, allowing short limbs to wrap around her neck and waist, sharing only a brief look with the woman across from them who looked bashful, but thankful for the vaster part. 

Margaery held the child tight against herself, pressed a kiss to the crown of her hair as she swayed her and brushed a palm over her head, all hoping someone else was providing the same compassion to her own child in this moment. 

What followed was an eternity where nothing happened; where they simply stood there leaning against a wall; it only grew quieter around them, what had been screams and strident voices before were now hushed conversations and muffled cries; replaced by a tense, dire apprehension. 

The movement of the pushing in people had come to a hold, whether because the attack was over, or because someone had locked the gates, Sansa did not dare to presume. 

“Do you expect the attack is yet going on?” 

The man who’d suffered the burns was cowered on the floor in the corner, staring up at them with wide fearful eyes; Sansa could perceive that he was shaking uncontrollably.  

Without thinking about it she unclasped her cloak and covered him with it, observed how he clung to it, pierced his fingers into the warm fabric as she knelt down beside him. 

“I don’t know,” she told him sincerely, scarcely containing her shock as she got a closer glance at him. 

It looked like the flesh of his face lay raw, his hair was gone, his skin turning black in small spots. Nevertheless she forced a smile, one that did not come close to the one that Margaery had produced before. “What is crucial now, is that we are safe here.”

The man studied her for a lengthy moment, something like recognition flashing through his eyes and then he nodded, the shaking growing less as he draped himself tighter in the material of the cloak and propped his head against the wall behind him, his eyes closing. 

Sansa studied at him for a stage, noticed how sharp his face seemed, how hollowed his cheeks, examined the shallowness in which he drew slow breaths, and then she flattened out her skirt and knelt on the ground next to him. Gently, so she would not provoke any pain, planted a hand on top of his; her eyes met Margaery who still held the little girl. 

In all she’d done, she’d only ever wished to protect her people, and those she loved. This kind of horror, this kind of dread was never supposed to reach them, she’d prepared for winter, perhaps, worst-case scenario, for a siege, but not this, not fire plunging from the sky like hail. 

What had even happened? Why had the dragon attacked in the first place? Something must have provoked it. 

Had it been the doing of the dragon queen? As a measure to demonstrate those who still doubted her, her supremacy, her strength? 

But this had not been either. This had not been a scare. This was set out to kill, to destroy. 

Perhaps it had solely been wild creatures coming out of control? And what about that ice blue fire? She was by no means an expert, but she had never picked up or read of any dragon breathing blue flames. 

The distant echo of a strong voice calling out, reaching them from what Sansa suspected to be the entrance, shook everyone out of their stupor. She could not make out more than a few phrases, not enough to make sense of them, but whatever was said, it provoked a murmuring, caused people to scurry to their feet. It took a while, but steadily people commenced moving again, this time in the opposite direction, outwards. 

She seized Margaery’s eyes that flitted over the slowly flowing stream restlessly, with anticipation and was swiftly by her side, a unforgiving tight, restraining hold on her shoulder. 

“They are moving,” Margaery told her, the agitation from before back.

“We wait,” Sansa’s tone was grim, did not recognize unspoken protests of any kind, as she looked into Margaery’s appealing eyes, that dashed back to the crowd, gathering her chances it seemed, but at last she nodded. 

They were not the only ones who kept from rushing to the surface at the first chance that presented itself. A solid fraction of the people showed to have no intention of leaving, instead accepted the increasing space around them to make themselves more comfortable, to sit on the floor, locate a better spot for themselves, to care for their injured. The rest seemed impatient to escape this place behind, as eager as Sansa felt and Margaery evidently was. 

To reach the moment in which the space had cleared enough to safely get towards the stairs took longer than all the conclusive time they had spent down here. 

This time when Margaery threw her a pleading look, Sansa nodded, took a quick glance to the woman across from them who shoved herself off the wall. Only the boy holding onto her seemed afraid, yanked on her skirts, begging without words not to move. 

Sansa raised him into her arms and let him cling to herself. Before slipping out of their safe spot she flung a glance to the man whose hand she had held for the last hour, he was still as she had left him, had not even opened his eyes at the increasing noise. She’d send someone down to help him, she assured herself, yanking her eyes away and not tolerating the suspect that it might already too late for that. 

Ascending the stairs was about as excruciating as running down them earlier, only now what passed it troublesome was the heavy progress of people, and those who sat on the stairs exhausted, hurt, crying; along with the dread of what they would discover once they had made it outside. 

The clouds of heavy smoke that reached them when they arrived in the courtyard hindered them from seeing anything; the smoke burned in her eyes and throat and she pressed a hand against her face in a faint attempt to make breathing easier. Blindly, in a pure instinct Sansa reached out to her right, finding Margaery’s hand in an instant. They both still held the small children on their arms and doing so was a lot harder only supported with one arm, but their hold only tightened. 

When they made a couple of steps forward Sansa recognized with dread that the chaos that they had fled from had only grown worse. The floor seemed scattered with injured, all direly illuminated by flames that where still dancing all around them in smaller and larger fires that had caught several buildings. 

Sansa turned her head, trying to assess the damage, hindered by waves of smoke that kept on pushing themselves into her line of sight, burned in her eyes at the same time. 

“Where do we go?” The woman, whose name she had never bothered asking, not even as she’d quietly been telling them the story of becoming a stepmom to three little children less than a year ago, looked at Sansa with large fearful eyes.

Just then Sansa had not the slightest clue. From where they were standing, among all this misery, among smoke and flames it appeared like all of Winterfell was destroyed.

“The great hall,” she decided then, only for the reason that the smoke cleared for a brief moment to let her see the intact walls of the building. “People will gather there.”

Margaery’s hand tightly in her own still, was what held Sansa back, and with a single look in her face knew what was in her mind. 

“No,” Sansa insisted. “It’s not safe.”

Margaery shook her head. “No it’s not. Which is why I have to find him,” she bit out, her voice tight with not yet spilled tears. “I should be the one protecting him right now.”

“You cannot protect him at all if you get yourself killed!” Sansa had never spoken with her so harshly, but did not give her a chance to free herself of her hold, was the leading force instead, tightening her grip and pulling her along. “We are going to the Great Hall.”

“Cora!” 

The large man who called out the woman walking with them stopped. It was nothing short of a miracle that in all this, in this misery and this chaos, in the not ten steps they had taken into the courtyard he’d stumbled into finding his family.

The woman fell into her husbands arms, sobbed into his chest, clung onto him for her dear life. The boy and girl both in Sansa’s and Margaery’s arms did not take long to catch up what was going on, and there was no holding them anymore if they’d tried, as they struggled their way out of their grip and into the embrace of their family. 

The joyful compassion at watching this small miracle of a family reunited did not last very long.

“Lady Sansa!” 

At the sight of Samwell Tarly holding a small child in his arms, there was no holding Margaery anymore. She sprung forward recognizing just when she stood right before him what Sansa had seen right away, it was not her boy he was holding. 

The way his eyes darted around, the way that a hopeful smile turned to confusion, then to realization, produced a churning in her stomach made her feel sick. “Isn’t Gilly with you? I thought she was with you.”

Oh Gods, no. 

She heard Margaery’s intake of breath, saw the short wild and desperate look she flung towards her over her shoulder and knew what was to come. 

“Margaery, no,” she said with a shake of her head, but it was too late already.

Margaery had already started moving; running, slipping through those who lay injured on the ground, to those struggling buckets with water and snow, towards the keep, concealed for a short moment by a wave of smoke and then all that Sansa saw was a shadow that disappeared inside the Keep. 

Unmindful of either Samwell Tarly, Sansa did not hesitate even a second and rushed after her. Calling out her name from the moment she stepped a foot into smoke filled corridors. She made it only a few steps forward before she had to stop, coughed so heavily she white spots appear in front of her eyes. 

She braced herself against the wall, then she gathered all the strength she had left covered her face with the crook of her elbow and moved further forward. 

It was her one and only fortune that she knew exactly where Margaery was headed, that and that she knew the hallways of the keep like the inside of her pocket. 

She caught up with Margaery just as she had opened the door to their chambers. 

Chambers which, as they found after a few quick steps through them, an adjoining door pulled open wide, empty. For a flash Sansa felt a bit astonished by the image of her chambers. If it had not been for the lingering smoke in the air, for the thin layer of ashes on all the surfaces, it could have appeared like nothing ever happened, like they had left the chamber behind only moments ago. 

In a last all too faint stray of hope, with clear hesitation in her step, Sansa watched Margaery approach the crib that stood by the fireplace in which the remains of what had been a fire glimmed. 

Sansa only saw her back, as she gripped onto the edge, saw the way her shoulders were starting to shake with another sob that sounded painfully working its way past her lips. 

Sansa took a hold of her shoulders, as she approached her from behind. 

The crib was empty. 

Margaery pressed a hand to her mouth, half coughing smoke from her irritated lungs, half holding back tears. 

Sansa tightened her grip on her and dragged her toward the window, pulling the shutters open and letting air that was only a bit fresher stream into the room. 

“You fool,” she chastised, twisting Margaery in her arms and embracing her tightly. “Of course they are not here.”

No one would just sit here calmly and wait out an attack at one of the highest points in Winterfell.

“Where are they then?” Margaery weakly mumbled into her shoulder.

She did not have an answer for that. The possibilities seemed endless. It was possible that they had been in the Crypts with them all along. Maybe among those who had stayed behind at the far end, who’d stayed behind for safety. Maybe they’d found a different hiding spot altogether. 

“Chances are, they are looking for us as we speak,” Sansa reasoned, forced herself to stay rational. “Moving around all over the place will not help us finding them any faster.” She took a tight hold of Margaery’s chin, forcing her to meet her serious expression, that stayed in place even as her heart ached seeing her swollen eyes and her tear streaked face. “No more running around.”

Margaery’s nod was hesitant, but it came at last. 

“Let’s go to the Great Hall,” Sansa contemplated thereafter. “Everyone seems to be gathering there so chances are good, Gilly will find her way there sooner or later.”

Not to mention that they needed to get out of here. 

Sansa had no illusions, this heavy smoke was not coming from the outside, there was a fire somewhere within the keep and they’d not made it out of the Crypts to be caught here next. 

Not allowing any defiance to that, not that Margaery was still putting up any, she pulled her to the door and through smoky hallways not halting or even losinging until they had made it to the exit. 

Only a few feet outside back into the chaos that was the courtyard she was brought to a hold by Jon appearing in front of her, crushing her in an embrace, and just then Sansa forgot all the trouble he had caused her today, the previous day, and let herself be held by him. 

He was alright. Thank the Gods he was alright. 

She blinked away tears as they parted, saw an angry gashing wound over his brow. 

“Arya and Bran?” She grasped onto his arm as she asked the question, not sure if she would stay upright should he give her an answer she did not like. 

“Both in the Great Hall,” he reassured her, managed a small smile as he did so; one that was quickly replaced with anger. “What were you doing running into a burning building? Have you lost your mind?!” 

The question brought the hand still holding onto her own back to her conscious. 

“Have you seen Gilly?” She asked him with urge. “She was watching Margaery’s son and we can’t find them.” 

His eyes darted to Margaery who was looking at him with sorrowful eyes once again filled with tears. 

“I think I saw her in the Great Hall.” 

Perhaps Margaery did not know him well enough to recognize his tone was not convinced, perhaps it didn’t matter to her.

Jon walked before them, making a passway for them through the wounded, those attempting to bring order back into the chaos around them, those fighting the ongoing fires. 

“What in the world happened?” Sansa breathed out, trying to get a glimpse of Jon’s face as they moved forward. “That was one of the Targaryen Dragons wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” he confirmed what she had feared, looking straight ahead as they walked along. “The one that died North of the wall.”

He stopped as they had reached the gates that commenced the entry to the Great Hall, turning to them with a serious face. “The wall has fallen, Sansa.”

She heard the words, understood the meaning of them, but they did not make any sense.  He might as well have told her that the sky was green and that the sun would rise in the west tomorrow morning.

She was not given the chance to consider them because almost with their first steps into the venue, that was swarming with people, Arya had enwrapped her in an embrace, firmer and longer than she ever had before. 

It only occured to Sansa now, as her sister held her, what her disappearance must have been like for them. She had disappeared from the surface of the world, literally, and that for hours; they must have assumed the worst. When they parted Sansa saw the dark bluish, almost black bruise that covered the right side of Arya’s face, her eye nearly swollen shut. 

Sansa could not help but gasp. “What happened to you?”

“A falling timber got the best of me.” Arya rolled her eyes - eye - and looked her and then a moment later Margaery up and down. “Where the seven hells were you?”

“In the Crypts,” Sansa recounted. “And once we were in there it took a while--”

Her eyes landed on something at the other end of the hall, a small figure sitting on the floor, upper body rested against the wall, a small cluster of people around them, in which Sansa thought to recognize every single one of them. This time it was Sansa who started moving, ignoring her sisters questions and calls, she was dragged Margaery along, barely gave her the chance to catch up, not only with her steps, but also with what was going on. Her eyes had been focused on scanning the room and her pace only adjusted and overcame that of Sansa when she saw it to. 

As they came closer it was undoubtedly that it was Gilly sitting there on the floor, Samwell by her side, their own son nestled between them as he held her tight, pressed a kiss to her lips. 

Two more figures knelt to Gilly’s left, one that Sansa recognized immediately - there were not exactly many men of his size in Winterfell - and the other one, kneeling there talking to them. 

Sansa recognized him, in the same moment she spotted the small bundle that he held in his arm. 

Margaery was either unmindful of it, or simply did not pay either of them any attention, but she fell to her knees as well and pulled her son from the man’s arms into her own, without asking any questions, without saying any words, had only eyes for him as she rocked him in her arms and pressed her forehead to his, quietly crying. 

Sansa was still a couple of steps behind her, came to a stand and her jaw set tight as she watched the man, saw his blue eyes dart over the scene presenting itself to him, in confusion initially, then realization. 

“Lady Sansa,” Tyrion Lannister’s voice was the first sound that reached her conscious. “You remember my brother?”

[heraldofzaun]

Hi. We’re doing this again. I’ve already spoken a little bit (well, a great bit) about how old lore Viktor wasn’t a stereotypical evil villain, but I keep seeing this interesting trend crop up - especially in the comments of analyses on Viktor’s character - and so I’m going to write about it. That trend is the fact that people seem completely and utterly convinced that only old Viktor “augmented without consent” or “didn’t respect free will” or similar mad-scientist-adjacent claims. This isn't true. The inverse is true, actually.

What follows is the entirety of Viktor’s old lore (I’m using the first - the second variant is the one that snips out his going to the Institute of War, I’m not trying to pull a trick on you or anything), his lines upon release (which are still technically canonical, even if many people believe them to be outdated - whether that is due to Riot still believing that they’re accurate to his character or, more likely, Riot not caring to replace them, I don’t know), and the accompanying blurb to his release comic. I am also including Jayce’s second lore, the one which Riot wrote after Viktor fans pointed out that Jayce’s original lore was contradictory to Viktor’s character. (Which is mentioned in the post I linked above. TL;DR: Viktor fans made such a fuss that Jayce’s lore got changed to paint Viktor as less of a villain, which again points to the fact that old Viktor wasn’t necessarily perceived as villainous by his fans. Of course, fan perceptions can be wrong - but canon was changed, so...)

This screenshot is missing his pick/ban quotes (“Join the Glorious Evolution.”/”Inferior constructs.” - ban quotes were added after his release, so they recycled one of his attack lines) and the quotes for Chaos Storm (“Obliterate!”/”Consume!”/”True power!”/”Behold!”). This is because it didn’t fit on my computer screen nicely.

This was written alongside Viktor’s teaser comic. (I personally really like the teaser comic, even though I’m concerned about Viktor cutting a hole in his laboratory wall.) It is, technically, non-canon material as it was posted on the now-defunct forums rather than anywhere on the client, but as we’ve seen a recent trend of Rioters Word-of-God’ing facts about canon, I may as well include it. There may be more Word-of-God confirmations on those forums as well, but the backup site that they’re currently hosted on doesn’t allow for searches as the original site didn’t either. You can find this on the “Development” tab of Viktor’s wiki page, if you’re curious.

Is there anything in here, besides “Submit to my designs.” and a few other of his voice lines, which should be taken with the context that they were a) written in 2011 and are thus not the highest examples of character-focused writing and b) written under the context of these being things he is saying to opponents on a battlefield, that says “Viktor augments people who are unwilling”? I don’t see it. He isn’t an angel, sure, because he wrecks Jayce’s lab after the man doesn’t want to work with him, but… He’s mostly alright, at least when it comes to the claims I’m investigating. (Also, note that his acolytes are not specified as being under his control or anything like that - they very well may just be people he’s helped, who don’t want a strange man smashing up the lab they were helped in.)

An interesting side-note: Jayce’s first lore does seem to imply that Viktor murdered people, as he “staged a deadly raid on Jayce’s laboratory”. This is concerning. There’s still somewhat of that implication in the second lore, considering the whole “incinerating the lab’s meager security force” line, but I’ve never seen anyone in fandom over the years use that as evidence for Viktor being a murderer, which is interesting. There’s actual textual evidence you can point to to say that Viktor’s a morally awful dude, and yet no one pointed to it when it was canon...I’ve never seen it cited in any character analyses for Viktor, nor have I ever seen anyone make the point that it’s people that Viktor’s incinerating. Food for thought, I guess. Anyways, my personal take is this: it’s security systems, not people. It doesn’t quite make sense, in-universe, for Viktor to murder a bunch of redshirt security guards but only blast Jayce aside - and leave him with no lasting injuries, obviously. Out-of-universe, you can say that it’s because Jayce is a champion, but still… It really doesn’t fit. Of course, I’m an old lore Viktor fan and this is entirely me trying to justify that he’s not a bad guy, so you can definitely take my words as biased. As we’ll see later, even if you take this as proof that old Viktor’s a killer, it doesn’t mean new Viktor is morally spotless.

Also, if you speak a language other than English and want to kill time, feel free to write in with what Jayce’s old lore says he did if you can find a translation of it. (If you go to the League wiki you can find other language versions of it, and from there you can poke around on Jayce’s page to see if it even has his older lore at all.) The Polish version apparently doesn’t imply people, but the Russian version uses “guards”... or so I think, my knowledge of Russian is pretty small so it was me and Wiktionary against the world. I think that League lore translations, especially from 2011, aren’t exactly the best material for textual evidence, but it’s an interesting curiosity. (I’m genuinely fascinated on how this was never a point of argument, and also to the fact that it was made much more ambiguous in Jayce’s post-outcry lore… but not removed.)

Anyways. Of course, you can take his lines and general character to a logical endpoint and say that it is implied that he doesn’t care much about whether or not people consent to the Glorious Evolution, but at that point you’re arguing interpretation and need to say as such. The cases I’ve seen in which people say that old lore Viktor was lopping people’s limbs off without consent or what-have-you just say that, without citing any textual evidence or saying that it is possibly implied by his character and lines. It’s pretty hard to take those claims seriously when there’s much more textual evidence that current-canon Viktor doesn’t seem too keen on respecting autonomy. Let’s begin with his own lore, which is written to favor his perspective.

Please keep in mind that this Viktor got his start selling automative technology to businesses in Zaun. The Zaun that is full of corrupt chem-barons. But let’s give him the benefit of the doubt and say that he only sold to good businesses. (Also, fascinating that a common complaint about old Viktor is that his status as a pioneer of his field is that he’s “unrealistically accomplished”, and that other people would have figured out the same technology - just as it seems to be the case in current lore, with the Church of the Glorious Evolved existing pre-Viktor (except that it probably didn’t at the time of this lore’s release, as there’s a paragraph later on in his lore that talks about a “quasi-religious cult” that is unnamed but… Who else would it be?) and augmentations being common on the NPCs on the Universe page. Yet someone who’s 19 having their inventions be commonly used in Zaun long enough for the term eventually to be used in reference to the next stage of their life is perfectly acceptable. Anyways…)

What we see from this is clear: even if there is a “good” reason to control the divers, there is no mention of them consenting to the procedure. Considering the previous quotation, Viktor seems to deal more with the bosses than the workers and doesn’t seem to consider the potential job-removing impacts of his work (how many people lost jobs due to being rendered obsolete?), which doesn’t bode well for him caring much about what the workers think. But of course, this aside about dealing with bosses is all interpretation, so you can ignore it if you’d like. There still is, however, actual, textual evidence that new Viktor does not care about consent if he believes his idea is what’s best for you.

Ignoring the writer misusing the term “psychotics” - par for the course in fiction unfortunately - here’s Viktor kidnapping people “for their own good”. Nothing is said in his lore if he’s contracted to do this, or if he’s just Zaun’s version of a Good Samaritan out and about chloroforming people. While I’m not saying that the moral choice is to not intervene, he is drugging people here and performing brain surgery on them. Please note the “in a manner of speaking”. What does that mean? Is it in reference to them having permanent brain damage? Or is it in reference to him being all well-and-ready to transfer their bodies into robots that presumably weren’t designed for them? (Speaking of, if Viktor can transfer the consciousnesses - or at least brains - of people… why is he still in a fleshy mortal body? Yes, it would require a VU to update him to be fully robotic, but none of his written media seems to imply that he’s on his way. His color story has him integrating technology directly into his arm, for example. Why aren’t you getting into the robot, Viktor?)

Anyways, two options here: either the automatons had enough of their former programming to react to Viktor giving a kill command, or the consciousnesses of the people Viktor is “saving” are in these robots and are under his sway enough to commit murder. Either is bad (and negates any moral superiority over old Viktor’s maybe-implied-canonical-murder), but the second is horrifying. And, obviously, non-consensual. (Because the damage is reversing, I don’t believe there’s room for a justification of the second option in which these people are still violent and dangerous.)

Anyways, last bit. It’s pretty bad when your ethics are panned in Zaun, the nation host to rampart corruption and also people like Singed. Let’s now move on to his color story, which is what a lot of fans point to as evidence for new Viktor having a heart or a moral compass.

Yay! Moral win: your cyborg isn’t cutting off the head of a child without his consent. (Also, again, is this proof that Viktor can put brains or consciousnesses in robot bodies? Admittedly, he might be joking since this Viktor is a little softer than he is in his biography.)

Moral… win… your cyborg is augmenting a child… Anyways, joking aside, this is unethical. How’s Naph supposed to consent to something like this? I know that we can’t expect fictional characters in a fantasy setting to abide by modern ethical standards, but I think we can critique them from an out-of-universe context. This is bad. Viktor gives very little context, could very well be lying (he isn’t, hopefully), and sends the kid off with his version of a pat on the back and tells him to come back if he wants more. (The “Oh yes” is also… creepy.) A kid’s decision-making abilities aren’t developed to the extent that they can be reasonably expected to understand or consent to a procedure that removes a pretty crucial emotion. If Naph comes back and wants his fear gone permanently, will Viktor oblige?

Also, fear is something that is very important to survival and judgment calls. Without fear, a kid in Zaun might take dangerous risks that could end up with them dead. I can’t really see how people interpret this as a morally sound decision - Viktor’s pretty much giving mood-altering drugs to a child and telling him to come back if he wants another hit. Just because he got Naph’s okay doesn’t mean that he got informed consent.

Let’s now turn to the black sheep of Viktor content: his Legends of Runeterra lines. There’s two of interest.

Armed Gearhead’s card art is of a man whose only augmentation is his arm, which he says he broke in another line. (I suppose he didn’t want to wait for it to heal?)

Viktor is talking about messing with his head, here, because Armed Gearhead is… too emotive, I’d guess. He is “not yet complete”. A statement which Armed Gearhead seems rather apprehensive about, if you listen to his response.

I know that LoR Viktor is one of the more “comically villainous” depictions of Viktor we’ve seen, so if new Viktor fans would like to ignore his lines I have no issue with that. But these lines certainly seem to imply that what Viktor sees as Armed Gearhead’s end state isn’t necessarily what he sees as his, and should be considered if people want to take them as canonical.

Not necessarily needed, but here’s Jayce’s present lore. One of them is definitely lying - Jayce’s lore says that he doesn’t strike until after Viktor gives the kill order, and Viktor’s says that he gave the kill order in response to Jayce smashing up the lab. Either way, Viktor is ordering automatons (that, in this version, are outright stated to be housing the brains of the people Viktor is trying to keep alive) to kill Jayce. Not a good look.

Viktor’s new lore gives significant textual evidence that he doesn’t care for whether others willingly consent to his ideas, so long as he believes that his ideas are for the greater good. This is in contrast to the vagueness of his original lore, meaning that any individual who speaks about how current Viktor is someone who cares for consent in contrast to the “unethical mad scientist”ness of old Viktor is unfortunately mistaken. I have to imagine that general fandom interpretation, combined with the fact that his bio and color story are very tonally different, have made it so people believe that this version of Viktor is much more ethical than he canonically is.

Interpreting Viktor as sympathetic and actually morally grey is fine, of course! Riot wrote his narrative very poorly when he was updated, which is why I’m still finding bones to pick with it in comparison to his original and more open-to-interpretation lore. The issue is stating that this is canonically the case, which it isn’t, and/or stating that the current iteration of Viktor has the moral high ground over his previous incarnation, which he doesn’t. I think that much more interesting character conversations can happen if people acknowledge that Viktor as he’s currently written is roundly unethical - how can that be improved upon for a more complex character, does that mean that Jayce’s behavior was right, etc. For all my dislike of new Viktor, I’d be genuinely curious to read a take that actively acknowledges his pre-college work in automation and how that affects his standing in Piltover and Zaun. (Is he well-known in industry? What do workers think about him? And so on…) And, well, on a personal note: I think that acknowledging current Viktor’s moral failings would be nice, because it would mean that people would stop using old Viktor as a strawman.

Anyways, I suppose that’s the post. Thank you for reading!