#civ on the mic

[civilhavoc]

h. hollyyyyyy shit. i ordered custom acrylics of my art for the first time..

[teatitty]

We know Mic is teaching Eri how to speak english and got her a little DJ set for christmas so I propose that Eri picks up his habit of injecting random english into her sentences. A "hey" or "yo!" or "YEEAAAHHHH" and Hizashi melts into a puddle about it

[ghost-qwq]

Fallout HCs about video games cuz I'm absolutely batshit insane about these characters

(Fo3, NV and 4 but it's only characters I am crazy normal about)

Fo3 (Butch, Charon and RJ)

Butch

I'm being so honest with you, I think he'd LOVE rhythm games

He's a big music guy to me!!!

Rhythm games player,, he also would play the fuck out of multiplayer fps games

but Lone would have to make him stop because he gets really mad when he loses

He's fucking horrible at puzzle games also, he makes Lone solve puzzles for him but totally not because he needs help

He just uh... Thinks Lone is too dumb to figure it out... Yeah...

Charon

Okay I know I picked the characters but I'm so clueless for him

Maybe fps but idk

Actually this guy likes puzzle games

He watches Butch fail horribly and silently judges him

Puzzle games and like... Games with specific tasks you need to repeat

I'm thinking like Potion Craft and Sticky Business

bro would love cleaning games I think

PowerWash Sim and Viscera Cleanup Detail are his beloveds

RJ

This kid would play multiplayer fps games and absolutely kick ass too

He's the mean kid on mic telling you how shit you were...

He gets mad when he loses and quits

But not before saying that he's never playing that game again

... And then he's playing the same game the next day

He's such a little hater I think he'd say all kids games are for babies

He would LOVE to play them though :(

Would sooner kiss a Deathclaw than play a horror game though...

He'd act like he's not scared until he physically couldn't hide it anymore

FNV (Veronica, Arcade, Benny, Boone, Raul and Vulpes)

Veronica

Fps 100%

She's the one beating Butch all the time and she's having a blast doing it

Maybe also sorting games?

Ooh exploration games even

I barely traveled with Veronica but I feel like she would get really deep into the lore of whatever game she's playing

Unpacking fan I feel

I think she'd like ARGs too

She'd play slime rancher and throw tars into the sea as soon as she sees them

Arcade

He feels like a strategy game player

CIV player

Probably also likes cleaning/sorting games

I don't think he'd play video games very often... Sort of just a thing he does when there is NOTHING else to do

Probably would play Niche

Maybe Spore

I honestly have no clue with him beyond that

Benny

I'd like to start this by saying that he's comically bad at every game he plays

Other than gambling ones

He plays strategy games and loses every single time

He could not win a game to save his own life

Only games he's okay at are like... Ones it's hard to lose,,

And house flipper... He feels like a house flipper guy if he had to play

He also plays the Sims,, he loves that game so much

Boone

Really challenging myself here

I think he'd be good at fps but not really like them very much

Idk why but he feels like an rdr2 player to me a little

He also plays Plants Vs. Zombies because he's great

Idk he absolutely doesn't play games ever and when he does it's like,, card games

Boone is not the gamer of the group

Raul

Fuck oh God why did I put him on this list

Also a house flipper kind of guy but unlike Benny he's actually good at it

When he plays games it's to relax !!

He's playing fucking Stardew Valley and having a nice time

He plays Golf With Your Friends with the Courier...

Kinda feels like a Terraria player but he has actually no clue what he's doing,,

Plays Minecraft but only to build a house then turn the game off

If anyone tries to teach him a game he pulls the old man card

He will not play a game if he doesn't want too...

He's just "too old to figure it out"

Vulpes

Like Arcade he also plays CIV

But he's annoying about it somehow

Strategy and puzzle game player

No matter the game he acts like he's better than you for playing it somehow

Plays Terraria like Raul but he knows what he's doing and won't stop being a bitch about it

He acts like whoever he's playing with is stupid for not understanding whatever game they're playing

Fo4 (Nick, Deacon, Danse, Curie, Preston and MacCready again)

Nick

He's just like Raul tbh

When he plays a game it's to relax or with friends

He also plays Golf With Your Friends... Probably with Ellie and Sole

I think he'd like playing Keep Talking and Nobody Explodes...

Jackbox games too

He likes having fun with friends okay? :( let peepaw play a damn game

Probably would also like PowerWash Sim

Maybe even Slime Rancher

Deacon

I'm struggling more with what games he WOULDN'T play

He'd play multiplayer horror games with everyone and NOT do what he's supposed to

Not because he's uh... Scared or anything...

He's in the Railroad, obviously he likes Detroit: Become Human

Idk why but he feels like he would love OneShot

BattleBlock Theater kind of guy 100%

Like I said, I have no idea what he wouldn't play...

I think he'd play anything with his friends though

Kind of guy to find the absolute worst quality game to play and get it for everyone so they can all suffer together

Danse

Strategy games.

Or games with a very direct path

I think he'd be overwhelmed by open world games

Too much to do and not enough direction on where to go first

Survival games I think he'd like too

Hates horror games,, he would never admit it but he always gets jumpy

I honestly don't think he'd play anything other than strategy games without being pushed but shh.... If he were a gamer

Curie

Cleaning games or games that focus on science

HUGE Niche fan

She has no clue how to play a video game but she knows science!!

CIV player but she doesn't attack anyone unless they attack first... She just wants to make her cities and make everyone in them happy. That's literally it

Preston

I think he's in the same boat as Nick but he can't pull the old man card

He's just not a big fan of video games

But as long as he's playing with friends I think he'd have a good time

Probably would hate horror games too...

They're fun until it gets actually scary and then he doesn't want to play anymore

Honestly, I think he might like Don't Starve

Idk why... He'd play Wilson I think

Or Wendy

MacCready again

look he's older now

He still plays multiplayer fps games but he doesn't get as mad at them

He doesn't say as mean things anymore... And when he says it he says it to himself

I think Butch got him into rhythm games as a kid but he isn't good at them

100% would play video games with his kid.

He'd play like,, bugsnax when Duncan is older and lose his mind

I'm being so honest with you I think he's not good at any games that aren't fps...

EXCEPT. Stardew Valley. He would never in a million years admit it but he'd loved that fucking game.

[seveninchesovsatanicpanic]

Oh, Who Is He?

pt. 1 (You're here!)

pt. 2 (in the works)

pt. 3

Word count: 1,381 words

Warnings: Typical COD violence, near death experiences, blood loss, passing out

Us men are starving in the cod fandom

Simon "Ghost" Riley x male!reader

When Y/N gets injured, Ghost comes to save the day. After he recovers, he comes back better than ever and even impresses the unimpressionable Simon Riley.

Oh, Who Is He?

The balaclava mask on Y/N's face seems too tight, too sticky. He realizes the reason the mask was sticky, as he opens his eyes, is that it's raining. He stares up at the sky for a moment to regain control of his body. His fingers can wiggle, his neck can turn, but his left leg can't move at all. He doesn't have the courage to look down at it. Suddenly, all of the previous events come streaming back through his head like a movie, in third person.

"Flash, how copy?" Ghost mutters through the receiver.

"I'll live." Y/N had been shot through the stomach, but there was an exit hole which meant he was in the clear if he wasn't passed out already.

"Atta boy, where are you?" Y/N felt his face heat up at the praise as he looked at his surroundings.

"There's a fruit market. Shadows everywhere. Killing civs." He shakes his head and sighs. "It's gruesome."

"Get to the church on the other side of town, Soap and you will RV with me there."

"Hard copy, L.T. Welcome to guerrilla warfare." He chuckles into the receiver before shutting off his mic. He listens to Soap and Ghost's banter as he clears houses, looking for things to fight with.

He found a shotgun in a coat closet in one of the houses, but he deemed it too loud to sneak around with. He decided on a makeshift knife made from broken glass and twine from a dead body. One shadow, two shadows, all of the dead bodies lay as markers of his path. He crosses over the bridge, spotting the church.

"Ghost, can you see me?" He whispers as he takes down another shadow. "I'm on the bridge in front of the church."

"I've got eyes on you." The gruff voice brings him a sense of comfort. "There's a group of shadows heading towards the bridge, don't confront them. Hide and stay out of sight."

"Copy, sir. Staying out of sight." He releases the button on the receiver and hides underneath a truck not too far from the bridge.

By the time he registered the grenade near his legs, it was too late. The beeping coming from it was ending as he turned around and scrambled from the bottom of the truck.

Boom.

It shook the ground, the car exploded and had flipped over. Y/N could barely register the screaming of his name in his ear before he passed out.

Shadows came around and took a look at him on the ground, pinned beneath the truck. They dissipated as they deemed him immobile and no need to kill him.

Ghost storms from the church, killing the shadows in there in the process. "I'm going to Flash, Soap! Get to the bridge and help me!" Ghost had never heard himself in such a panic. His chest heaves as he runs to Y/N, taking down more shadows as he goes. Once he knows the coast is clear, he runs over to him and kneels next to him. Y/N's eyes flutter open and his fingers twitch.

"Hey there, kid." The scruff voice not coming from his headpiece scared him a bit, but he realizes it's from Ghost as he looks around.

Y/N looks down and takes a deep breath. The truck on his legs made them numb, and there was blood splattered on the windshield. He guesses from himself. He reaches a hand up to his face and the glove comes back down, covered in sticky blood. "How bad is it, L.T.?"

Y/N can barely recognize his own voice as he speaks, but Ghost just shakes his head. "Don't talk. Save your energy. We need to get you out from under this, alright? I'm going to lift it up and you're going to pull yourself out. Your arms work, yes?"

He nods and Ghost lifts the truck. He scoots himself out from under it as Ghost grunts and drops the truck. "Damn, those things are heavy."

Y/N looks down at his legs, mangled and his foot facing a way it shouldn't be. He sucks in a breath at the surge of pain that runs through his body after looking at it. "God dammit." He growls out, ripping a piece of his shirt off. He ties it around his leg to minimize the bleeding, but he can already feel his eyesight starting to blacken. "Shit, not now." Ghost is at his side, tying another cloth around the other leg.

"I found a military truck we can take to the safe house just outside of the city. Come on, get up." Ghost reaches down and grips Y/N's tricep, pulling him up and over his shoulder into a fireman's carry. Y/N groans in pain and nearly sobs. "God, this hurts, Ghost."

"I know, I know." Ghost mutters. He grabs the receiver on his chest and all but screams into his mic. "Soap, where the fuck are you?"

"Around the corner, sir." Y/N hears Soap reply as he rounds the corner by them. Soap pants as he gets closer and he looks at the wounds.

"Christ, Flash. Are you sure we'll be able to do something in time?"

"Not if you don't haul your ass into that truck." Ghost demands, opening the door. Ghost then sets Y/N in the middle of the seats, squished between Ghost and Soap. Not that he was complaining.

Ghost puts his hand behind the passenger seat and reverses over some shadows. The trek to the safe house with the medics is nearly ten minutes, and Ghost clears it in nearly four.

During the bumpy ride, Ghost yells at Y/N while Soap is turned around in his seat, shooting down shadows shooting at them from behind.

“You’ve got to stay awake, do you hear me?” Ghost yells, making a sharp turn.

Y/N’s head rolls to the side and he blinks slowly, trying to stay conscious. As his eyes flutter, Soap turns back around and shakes him, but to no avail. He’s gone, and now it’s a race against time.

When they get into the safe house, nearly every medic surrounds Y/N, blood dripping onto the floor as they lift him into a cot. Outside of the house, Ghost sits with a hand on his chin, just sitting there, bouncing his legs.

Would Y/N make it? He hopes so. He doesn't want to lose another comrade and friend. He might even have more than platonic feelings for Flash, but it'll be a miracle sent from God if he actually admits it to himself or others.

A medic steps outside a few minutes later, about 30 minutes since they arrived. Ghost and Soap look up from the places they were sitting at. "Is he okay?" Is the first thing Ghost says.

"He is alright. He's actually awake and asking how you guys are doing, if you want to step in." The nurse smiles and opens the door for them. Both of the men practically run in.

Y/N is laying in bed, both legs bandaged and doped up on pain meds. "Hey guys." He smiles lazily.

"Hey, Flash." Ghost smiles beneath his mask. "How are ya doing?" Soap asks, sitting on the chair next to the man on the bed.

"I'm alright. They said I'd be sent home once they can reach Laswell and get a 'copter to take me out." He looks between the two. "You guys look like hell."

"You don't look too good yourself." Ghost snaps back. Y/N nods and laughs a bit.

Eventually enough, the helicopter comes and picks up Y/N from the base to take him home for recovery. On the ride there, Y/N falls sound asleep to the hum and rocking of the helicopter. Ghost refused to let him out of his sight for reasons he won’t even admit to himself, so he got Laswell to let him go home with the sleeping man and take care of him. Laswell made him promise to take care of Y/N until he’s healthy enough to go back out into the world and fight alongside him again; she had made it part of his duties as Y/N’s superior.

[starr-finn]

Okay hi again :D

- So can I get... Bain, Dallas and Sokol for this? If you cba to do all just do Bain lol

- So it's the Alesso heist and the gang are doing stealth (until loud (as per usual))

- The C4 bit actually gets noticed by reader, an independent heister, well-renowned for their high skill set

- And they just happen to be at the concert (they just like Alesso idk) and heard the explosion

- The gang (+ Bain) just see them at the doorway of the basement going 'Can y'all keep quiet?!? It's my ONE day off I swear to god...'

- The gang at first are like 'who is this random fearless civ' and are about to gun them down when Bain is like 'Guys, this is Reader, one of the most famous heisters of all time! Don't shoot them!!'

- And this is when Reader's like 'Wait... you're the Payday Gang right? What're you doing here?'

- Then after being explained as to what they're after, Reader's like 'Oh... well, I think I saw some cops arriving outside.. I'm sure you're capable of taking care of them! I'll leave you to do your business then.' then they just walk away with a wink

- Later on when things are getting tough, they actually decide to join in, claiming 'I might as well have fun doing something else.'

- So yeah they just join in mowing down cops

- At the end, the gang/Bain offer to give Reader some of the earnings but they just give a paper with their number, saying 'Ah, I'm good. Call me if you ever need an extra bit of help, this was real fun.'

Hell yes, I'd love to, This heist quickly became one of my favorites after I played it, so 100% will write this for you!

Bain, Dallas, and Sokol meeting an independant heister during the Alesso heist!

Author's note: Mild violence, mentions of explosions, fire, and reader being mildly sassy with the gang, a bit more cussing on my end, as normal, (H/N) means Heister name, the boys are huge fanboys of reader's work. have fun

Bain

The last thing Bain was expecting was a ballsy ass civ to show up, but the second he got a good look at you, he immediately stopped the gang from killing your ass

"Guys, stop, don't shoot them, that's (H/N). An independant hesiter widely regarded for having a high skill set"

The gang stopped and just stared for a few seconds, until you spoke up

"Wait, You guys are the payday gang right? damn didn't think you'd be here, nice to meet you guys" you smile and nod at the gang before returning to your spot in the crowd, like nothing happened, until things got dicey.

You were getting bored of the concert and decided to go and help out. The only way the gang even realized you had jumped in was when you saved Jimmy's dumbass after he was knocked out by a cloaker. Bain was super psyched to get to see you in action, He always thought you were so badass, but this was fucking awesome. By the time you and the gang got out and to the drop off zone, the whole gang had attempted to convince you to at least let them give you a bit of a compensation, but you denied every time

"Nah, I'm good guys, It was fun working with you though!" You quietly hand Dallas a piece of paper with your number scribbled down on it "Give that to your boss, Next time you want me to come join, just call me"

You chuckle softly and walk back to your car, waving softly, before just driving off like nothing happened. Bain was literally leaned way back in his chair, losing his shit mentally because holy shit you were so cool to him. When he finally spoke up, he literally had to forcefully keep himself from screaming

"Wow...Never thought I'd get to see (H/N) on the job, we're gonna have to ask them to join more often" and then he goes quiet again, because he's fucking screaming and had to cut his mic off to save himself from public embarrassment

Dallas

Dallas was not ready for hearing some random civ yell at them from the stairs to the basement

"GOD CAN YOU GUYS QUIET DOWN A BIT!? It's my only fucking day off jesus..."

If it hadn't been for Bain not only telling the guys who you were, but also reminding them of the no killing civ's rule, you would have been dead, but the second Dallas heard the name (H/N), He could have dropped dead, like holy shit you had just yelled at him, dude could barely focus the rest of the heist, and then, you looked at him for a second and smiles

"Woah! Wait are you guys the payday gang? It's cool to meet you all!" they smile and wave softly, happily walking back to their seat for the concert, and holy shit Dallas was internally screaming, he almost lost his mind.

Later you joined in, killing cops and security guards, helping them get the money, and getting out with them. Dallas spent so much time trying to convince you to take a cut of the money, but you always denied.

"No thank you, however..." You quickly scribble down your number and hand it to him "call me if you ever want me to join again!"

You walk off and get in your car, heading home, and meanwhile, Dallas was losing his shit internally

Sokol

Sokol had been having a blast on this heist, until he heard someone start sassing off

"Can you fuckers keep it down?? I'm trying to watch a concert up there!"

Sokol spun around and pointed his gun at you, ready to shoot you down until Bain stops him

"Wait, Sokol! Stop, that's not a civ, that's (H/N)! Their an Independent hesister"

Sokol had never lowered his gun faster, dude immediately apologized quietly, you stare at him and the group he's with for a second before you smile

"Wait, you guys are the payday gang right? that's super cool, well, I'm gonna go back and finish the concert, later!" you have happily as you walk off.

Later, you actually joined the group, helping them take down cops, the FBI, and even some special units, you guys all got out in one piece and Sokol was on the verge of squealing every time you pulled off something badass. he was super happy he got to meet you. After you guys got out together, he tried to convince you to take a cut of the pay, you denied every time, smiling softly and writing your number down on some paper, handing it to him

"I'm good! But don't hesitate to call me if you want me to join on another heist!" after smiling at him, you walk off, seemingly happy that you got to join in on a heist. Meanwhile, Sokol was having an internal party because he got your number.

[francebaby]

not the basketball hoes commandeering game night 😧 i want to play civ tonight not drink downtown 💤 booooo playoffs booo

i might actually just go to open mic night at the coffee shop instead bdjdjdj. which. i guess would be silly because i would still be downtown instead of at home…. ok nvm maybe ill just get ice cream from the local ice cream shop and play a video game at home. or fruit tea. tea won’t hurt my tummy like dairy will…

[titwarble]

Amor Omnibus Idem (Love is the same for all)

[whalerrat]

i know the end

a dsmp magnus archives au

ao3

Statement of Tommy Innit, regarding the reappearance of his brother. Original statement given on April 30th, 2021. Recorded by Eret, Head Archivist of the EsEmpi Institute.

Statement begins.

I want to clarify that Wilbur’s not my actual brother. Like, we aren't biologically related or anything. We met in a cafe. He was performing during an open mic thing that my friend dragged me to. I usually hate that acoustic shit, but something about his voice was- I dunno, I felt like he could run the world. I know it sounds weird, but it was so quiet and loud at the same time, and he knew what words to say- which of course is the point of lyrics, but the words slid together, like a seamless puzzle.

Anyway, I started going to those open mic nights just to hear him play. I guess he noticed me too, ‘cause after a show one night, he bought me a coffee and we talked. I totally stayed calm the entire time. Soon, those post-performance conversations were another part of the tradition. We started hanging out outside of the cafe, too. Not in a weird way, he was a weird guy, but just hanging out, you know? Just, playing games together and stuff. You know Civ? He was really good at Civ. Really competitive.

About a year ago, he must have gotten into a fight or something with one of his friends, because he missed his normal performance time. I sat there, waiting, listening to one girl with a ukulele after another, glancing at the door. I should have known something was up after the first three. He wasn’t sitting in the corner with his guitar case, or flirting with the barista. His bike wasn’t outside. I just… I thought he was just late.

The entire time, I could hear a sort of clicking, like a lighter. Wilbur was a smoker, and he knew I hated it. He wasn’t allowed to smoke in the cafe, so he would sometimes step outside before his performance, especially if he was singing a new song. He would fidget with a small blue lighter, turning it on and off and on and off, the repetitive clicking somehow soothing him. It was annoying at first, but became part of him. His sound. Guitar strings and sparking lighters. And I could hear it, in the back of my mind.

Click. Click. Click.

But I couldn’t see him.

After about twenty minutes, I stepped outside. Maybe he was too nervous. Maybe I missed him on the way in. Maybe he’d had enough of me, of this city, and left. My chair felt so loud against the wood floors when I stood up and left.

Outside was cold. Cold and blue. I was glad I had brought my sweater.

I turned the corner, and leaning against the wall was Wilbur. Flicking the lighter, a fresh cigarette in his fingers. No guitar case. Burns on his fingertips. A rip in his jacket.

I immediately ran up to him and started asking him where he was, what he was doing here, why wasn’t he performing. And he just… smiled. It was sharp, all corners. Like a shark. And he tossed the cigarette toward the concrete and said, “Tommy, it’s all going to be okay”.

His voice was shaking. I don’t think he noticed, but I definitely did. His voice never shook.

He then walked past me, into the cafe, and threw a chair. It shattered against the brick wall. I swear it felt like an explosion.

He was banned from open mic night after that. Not like it mattered. Two weeks later, he was found dead in his apartment. Gas leak, and that fucking smoking problem. I don’t want to talk about that, if that’s alright.

I would like to say I moved on. Truth is, I could always hear that clicking. I would turn a corner, expecting to see him and his sparking lighter. Sometimes I would see him in smoke- cars, candles, smokestacks, you name it. It got really annoying after a while. I wanted to move on. I wanted him to stop haunting me. But he wouldn’t let me go. But seeing him where he wasn’t, that’s just grief. That’s normal. At least, that’s what Tubbo tells me. He’s the friend that took me to the open mic night that first time.

I promise I’m fine mentally. Everyone I tell this next part to refers me to a therapist, and I don’t need a fucking therapist. I know what I saw. I know what I felt.

Two days ago, I went to the cafe again. First time in like, a couple months, ‘cause I kept on seeing him in the stupid candles they use, you know? And I thought, why not, for old time’s sake. I would bring Tubbo along, and maybe this would help me stop seeing his ghost. No open mic this time. Just going out for a coffee.

As we get closer, I see a man leaning against the building wall. Tall, messy hair. A guitar case and a lit cigarette. And at first I think I’m just seeing things, but as I get closer, the man moves. He’s looking directly at me. And I’m looking directly at him like an idiot. And I stop.

It’s Wilbur.

But it can’t be Wilbur, because Wilbur’s fucking dead. He’s gone. His apartment wasn’t even recognizable when they found it. His body- he lit himself on fire. The doctors said he was burned alive. He burned himself alive. And they made it sound so pretty, like it was an accident, but I know what happened. I know how they found him, in a pile, on what would be his knees. His wired glasses were melted into the floor. The lighter was warped to his palm, wrapped around charred bone.

I asked for it, you know. I asked for the lighter, ‘cause it was the only thing that was left. Part of me was glad when they said no. It was too gross.

But there was no way it could be here, in the hands of someone alive. Clicking under burnt fingernails. He had changed- he looked older, his hair longer and graying. If he were still alive, not already dead, I mean, I would’ve made fun of him for it.

What do you say to a dead man?

I didn’t get the chance to answer that question, because soon, his arm was wrapped around my shoulders. He reeked of smoke. Not cigarette smoke. More like burning wood. Like a campfire. His skin felt hot against me, even through my tee shirt. Not warm, like a comforting hug or some shit. Hot. And he was grinning that shark grin.

I looked to Tubbo. This Wilbur was real. I could feel this Wilbur, feel the life pumping in his veins, the heat of his breath. Tubbo just stared back.

Wilbur said something. I didn’t hear it. I just nodded. That’s what you’re supposed to do, right? In a previous life, I trusted him. But I guess things change when you’re dead. At least he was consistent with the whole ‘living’ thing.

He pulled me close to him in a weird side hug. His jacket sleeve lifted a little, revealing burn scars on his boney wrist. I asked him about it, if it hurt, and you know what he did? You know what this bitch did? He laughed. I asked him if dying hurt and he laughed.

The rest is a blur. He was still banned from the cafe, ‘cause I guess bans carry over even when you die. Or maybe it was a risk. He kept glancing over to it, flicking his lighter, and I couldn’t help but notice how much wood was inside. The tables, the chairs, the plants hanging from the walls. The people. He could’ve burned it all down if he wanted to. There would be nothing left.

I thought that’s what happened to him. That he burned and burned and burned until there was nothing but ash. There weren’t even reports of screaming. How fucked up is that?

Next thing I know, I’m freezing. He’s gone. Tubbo hasn’t moved, neither have the people in the cafe. And I’m so cold. Sure, I trusted Wilbur, but I never needed him. But this cold, him not being here, it was almost worse than him coming back. If you could even call it that.

I asked Tubbo if that was real, if he was real. And he just looked at me, then at my hands.

My shirt had burned away where he had touched, the fabric singed and curling.

And in my palms was an old blue lighter.

Statement ends.

While not much could be said for Tommy’s… coping skills, we were able to confirm some of the facts. Sapnap found the death certificate of Wilbur Soot, as well as some news articles about his death. It all looks to be as Tommy described. However, George has asked around the cafe to see if anyone had seen Wilbur recently, and they “all gave him weird looks”. Tubbo, the friend, was unreachable, and Tommy denied answering any follow-up questions. The likelihood of this actually happening is very low.

Recording ends.

[civilhavoc]

irls stop making fun of my adachi obsession challenge: fail ☹️

[ao3feed-hitoshi-shinsou]

I Can't Hear You, I Don't Fear You

I Can't Hear You, I Don't Fear You by FireDragonIronFist

The hairbrained idea that I had as I sat in Western Civ while winding down from smoking weed the night before. "What would happen if I took the My Hero Academia characters and dropped them into the Percy Jackson universe?" Well, apparently what would happen is a lot of unlikely half siblings, a roman demigod that is both a momma's boy and a strategic genius, a god of madness that likes looking like an overgrown stoat, and a gaggle of queer teens and young adults that have been equipped with swords. Oh, and the occasional monster attack.

Words: 314, Chapters: 2/?, Language: English

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other

Characters: Nedzu, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Inui Ryou | Hound Dog, Sasaki Mirai | Sir Nighteye, Class 1-A, Shinsou Hitoshi, Kaminari Denki, Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku, Todoroki Shouto, Kirishima Eijirou, Monoma Neito, Class 1-B, Hatsume Mei, Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu

Relationships: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Kaminari Denki/Shinsou Hitoshi, Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou, Jirou Kyouka/Yaoyorozu Momo, Iida Tenya/Sero Hanta, Hagakure Tooru/Ojiro Mashirao, Asui Tsuyu/Uraraka Ochako, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added

Additional Tags: I'm just mashing up hyperfixations here, it's ok tho, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Shinsou Hitoshi, Nonbinary Sero Hanta, Trans Male Character, Trans Bakugou Katsuki, Trans Kirishima Eijirou, Trans Female Character, Trans Asui Tsuyu, Genderfluid Character, Genderfluid Kaminari Denki, Genderfluid Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, everyone is ADHD and dyslexic, everyone is a demigod, Nonbinary Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Canon-Typical Violence, Swords, Camp Half-Blood (Percy Jackson), Kinda, I will tag as I go along, Author Is Sleep Deprived, author is living on caffeine and spite

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37117057

[sootygoggles]

2/2 here we go @loudest-cloudest sorry it's more than one post(its 3am and thats when Mic territory starts creeping up sorry)

Izuku: AFO's son and double agent: he's a talented hacker who goes by the code name 'Analyst.'

Shouta: Lost an eye and a leg in battle and hasn't used his Quirk since he lost the eye- he supposedly can't use it and doesn't want to lose the element of surprise.

Hizashi: Host of the only radio show that deals accurate information for the revolution, he dyes his tips to commemorate the dead- blue for Oboro, who supposedly died in the line of action as a teen, and purple for Hitoshi, who is presumed dead.

Noumu time!

Starting off with All Might: The weakest of the Noumu, he's kept around for entertainment and occasionally making an appearance to keep the civs in line. He has two Quirks(Longevity and OFA).

Fatgum: With three known Quirks(Fat Absorption, Manifest, and Creation), he isn't the strongest, but he's not one to underestimate, ya dig?

End*avor: With four Quirks(Hellflames, an unnamed bird Quirk, Speed, and Shock Absorption), he's basically a 'human' punching bag. It's not wise to pick a fight with him, yo!

Touya: Our last Noumu! With three Quirks(Cremation, Ice, and Durability), he's assigned to Izuku as a guardian- Similar to Kurogiri with Tomura.

[purekesseltrash]

This is my final ask talking about BTD so it has to be perfect, I literally created a google doc so I wouldnt fuck it up before I sent it

Shoji replaying a song over and over while doing a task reminded me of when I listened to “Ophelia” by The Lumineers on repeat while drinking coffee on my kitchen counter and lemme tell ya, I’ve been chasing that high ever since

Yeah knowing you'd have *some* family but not all of them after coming out sucks major ass but its the truth, I'm ever so grateful that the only person who would react negatively that I know would be my maternal Grandmother whos a narcissistic bitch who I haven't spoken to in years so like, i dont give a shit what she thinks but I know that it would be hard on Shoji seeing how family oriented he is in this story and him knowing his relationships with his siblings and parents would be rocky makes my heart break for him

OOOOO BITCHHHHHH HES TEXTING HIMMMMMMM

That went over a lot smoother than I thought it would, I mean i'm incredibly happy that they’re like, getting together, but I honestly expected it to be more drawn out

Awww Tokoyami getting their as fast as he could and Shoji being soft for domestic Tokoyami

Sweet jesus I can relate to Shoji just randomly thanking his friend for being his friend, the amount of times I’ve wanted to just ominously text my friends a “thank you for everything” is too many to count

I LOVE GRITTY, HE REMINDS ME OF MY CAT WHOS A MAINE COON (his names Chewie if you're interested)

I knew Mic would suck at cooking, its just so him

I practically squealed at Shoji changing Tokoyami’s contact name to Fumikage

Okay, little background story, I keep a list in my notes app of headcanons for Tokoyami and literally one of them on there says word for word “Dogs absolutely love him and he loves them right back” so im SO GLAD you made him a dog person, making him a cat person seems like the easy route

LAWYER MOM IS INTRODUCED i honestly didn't picture her as a blonde but now I see it

Tokoyami’s mom being incredibly enthusiastic reminds me a lot of my mom, she always get excited when people have pride flags hanging up and suggested we get a pride flag so that made me appreciate my mama more than I already have been

I swear to god my eyes got as big as saucers hearing the part about cheesecake because I'm from New Hartford and forgot Hartford was a different city.

I can just picture Aizawa SLAMMING the brakes and whipping his head around, hair flying, as he looks at Shoji

“And he let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding” how much more cliche could you get, not gonna lie that made me laugh

All right I have to confess something. I've skipped every transcript of Put Your Sticks Up because I was impatient and wanted to get to the story. Now you know my biggest secret, I always felt bad but would get frustrated cause I wanted to hear ‘bout my boys.

The last precious worm ask! I am finally on my laptop so I can give this the proper attention.

Ngl, when my head isn't working, I will just put on one song and play it over and over and over and over and over until something comes into my head. My ShinOji fic 'Gold Rush' came from that. Still not sure how I managed to make a somewhat decent fic out of a song about gentrification but my mind is a wild and wonderful place.

Yeah, Shouji goes through it with his family. One thing that I can say though is that as Shouji starts to get more and more successful with his art, Tokoyami starts to spitefully send articles and reviews written on his work to his parent's house. He never gets a response but doesn't expect to, he just feels like they should see how amazing their son is, goddamnit. The one day, a letter comes back. Tokoyami opens it, expecting it to be them telling him to knock it off and instead, one of the pictures has been sent back with 'This is beautiful' written in pen, an arrow pointing to one of his vases. Tokoyami then has to show it to Shouji and explain what he did. Shouji cries basically all night. That starts a very, very tenuous back and forth with his mom.

Gonna put the rest of this under a break because it's gonna be long

You should have seen my first outline if you thought this was quick with them figuring it out. Basically, the only reason that Tokoyami broke it off in the first place was because he didn't see that there was a chance of it working. They worked so well otherwise. Amazing chemistry, complimentary senses of humor, Tokoyami didn't want to break it off at all. He just felt like he had to because otherwise they were both going to get more hurt. So when Shouji was like 'okay, but actually I do want to try this', he was all in.

Ojiro is legit Shouji's first real friend. Which is really really sad given that they met when they were eighteen but Shouji never really got a chance to do anything normal.

Maine Coons rule and Chewie is an excellent name for them. I was going to name their cat after Marie Phillipe Poulin, the greatest women's hockey player ever, but I decided that Gritty would be funnier. Mic as a bad cook is deeply satisfying, I picture him being like me, just all 'okay but I just do enough to make something to survive on and uh.... who needs all the details and stuff'.

The name change actually came from my beta. They asked why his contact was still Western Civ Tutor in the beginning of the chapter and I was like 'oooo, great way to show how they have changed'.

And maaaaaaaaaan. I'm sorry but how is someone who is a bird gonna like a cat. Nah. Tokoyami is a dog person. They do go on to get a dog. They were going to get a Shiba Inu or something catlike until Kenta came through with a hound puppy that he'd found in the rain while on his route and just dumps it in Shouji's lap like 'Surprise!'. They name it Lu after Roberto Luongo, famed goalie. The dog is a goddamned menace and Shouji ends up having to take it to classes and learn about dog training so they can all keep their sanity. He ends up loving Lu the most. (I do some part time dog training so I had to throw that in)

Tokoyami dyes his hair. He's actually a mousy blond under the dye like his mama. And yeah, my parents are hella supportive too. I figured it would be healthy for one of them to have accepting parents.

Aizawa was pretty pissed, ngl. For all that he should know better, he got caught up in the same shit that coaches tend to slip into, which is a responsibility because they have someone with potential that they must mold and then when they go on to do amazing things, they can feel a part of it. But then he realizes where he fucked up and how he was so busy seeing Shouji the hockey player that he couldn't see Shouji the person.

Listen, it's my fanfic, so I'm gonna get as cheesy as I damn well please. I'd written a super cheesy ending for the end of 'Black Sun' and was waffling on keeping it until somebody was like 'it's a fic, be as cheesy as you want'. I can has my cheese, as a treat.

WHAT IN THE FUCK WORM. HOW CONFUSED HAVE YOU BEEN THIS ENTIRE TIME?!?!?! this legit made me laugh out loud when I read it. GO BACK AND READ MIC'S SHOW!!! I set up so much stuff to try and prepare the reader to understand the emotional stakes, not to mention the basic facts of hockey! That being said, I get the feeling.

Thank you for this last super mega grande worm ask, sorry that it took me so long, I wanted to be able to give it my full attention. <3

[molecularhomosexual]

MiC, trans bodies and diabetic bodies?

it’ll be a nice breath of relief whenever some folks get off their high horse of ridicule and non-engagement and actually start to engage again w/the people they are interested in criticizing

as i hold my breath and choke before that happens: in an analysis of critique of any body, esp the body of the medical-industrial complex, we must be very careful about how we understand the movements of violence that it generates. here is one thing the MiC does: it coopts outside movements of illness and health and assimilates them to a particular organization of health and illness. what do i mean? in the US, insulin costs over 50-100x the cost of production, which means that diabetic folk reliant on insulin to survive who don’t have absurdly good medical insurance are buffeted by bills if they want to survive, unless they want to risk developing acute neuropathies and ketoacidosis. ppl w diabetes in the us currently have no other option for healthy survival other than coughing up huge amounts of money, or lucking out by being the few of the working class of this country who have family in other countries where insulin is as cheap as its supposed to be. in such a case, we will want to say that the MiC produces certain violent means as the only means available to certain bodies that pass thru it for acquiring health.

@hyacinthrope had mentioned appreciating a woman of color adding some input wrt the relation between trans lives and the MiC; here is a woman of color speaking on it. gender, as a certain body that organizes human bodies in certain ways, is a v complicated body, and it organizes differently across different lives. we know that much of gender as its organized rn is a colonial/modern imposition, designed to rid outside-colonial setups of what we’d recognize as gender, setting up a differential system of gender that applies differently to white bodies versus indigenous, black, and brown bodies.

a part of gender involves imposing images of what a person of each gender is supposed to look like and act like; people in trans circles i’ve frequented are aware of this whenever there is a conversation about passing, and the relationship between passing and euphoria. if passing is an imposition from the outside, applied to trans bodies, as a way “legitimate” trans bodies are separated from “illegitimate” ones, we should at least be critical of those moments in our lives where euphoria seems completely folded into the requirement to pass. the people to criticize for this aren’t trans people themselves, but the people in our lives, near it and far away (in various institutions we pass through) who enforce a dominant cis-trans series of images onto bodies.

i happen to be a trans woman who, currently, does not desire hormones or surgery. i am a woman, and by virtue of being a woman, my body simply is the body of a woman. there are women who desire hormones in their path to transition, and that desire is formed through different forces that aren’t all present for every trans life. a desire to pass and look more like a certain gender, because that enables us to feel euphoria, or that enables us to escape a bit more violence than we’d be capable of escaping prior to it. trans becoming is a complicated, complex phenomena. it having its roots in a colonial/modern gender system doesn’t, unfortunately, sully everything that comes under the banner of gender. gender’s historical situation rn is a great deal more complicated than that.

so here is a legitimate concern one as trans ought to bring up to trans siblings: what are the forces driving us and our dysphorias and euphorias in certain ways? what are the compromises we make now, and can we conceive of futures where gender is organized differently? the MiC isn’t the only body that sells hormones to trans bodies; there’s plenty happening off the books if ur prepared to look. is the point that trans people who pass thru the MiC to transition are morally worse than someone who doesn’t? the matter isn’t as easy as that. it isn’t exclusively well-off, white trans women who pass thru the MiC to transition, and we ought not pretend that the only force enabling certain people to transition thru the MiC is privilege. when thinking of negotiations of the future, we must be ready to put work into the question: are there different ways we can organize institutions, better ways, to better serve the different needs different people will have?

i’m not so familiar w anti civ or primitivist thought, and so my thought stands as singular to my own efforts and the efforts of those who have been my interlocutors. one thing is certain to me: the future is not predetermined, and it continually unfolds in novelty. frankly, if the thing we called society were to collapse, there would be many complicated movements that start occurring: bodies not well off are at risk of deep harm, and we must be sensitive to that. bodies rly well off may be able to escape immediate catastrophe and abandon the rest of the world, and we must be worried about that. certain bodies will learn to survive in the salvaged ruins, and we must keep that possibility open. whatever the collapse of a civilization means, it must at bare minimum mean that the current organizers of bodies break down, for better or worse, and all the institutional bodies, such as the MiC or the body of gender, will be organized in different fashion, and we cannot know how that new organization will look like. what will happen to diabetic bodies if insulin is no longer accessible at such a hypothetical point? i do not know. my desire isn’t to romanticize or condemn this hypothetical future one way or another, but to put work into contemplating what are the different foreclosures that may happen, can we avoid them, will there be openings of certain possibilities, how can we strengthen them, and so on.

all of that is separate from a conversation about us always, always, examining the forces we are caught up in, the forces that drive us to become in certain ways rather than others. it isn’t terf ecocide thought (it seems obvious to me that there’s more personal drama going on than theoretical analysis) to suggest that “let us be critical of the ways trans bodies are forced to organize as trans, let us be critical of the means given to us to become, and whether those means are worth it and whether we can change them.” but such a question inevitably points towards means and ends, and it has nothing to do with a moralizing of individual choices. if it turns out we are forced to be trans under undesirable circumstances, shouldn’t we care about doing politics in such a way where we have those concerns about means in mind? that we are concerned about the ways we can change those means, and live as trans in different ways? we cannot escape the ethical forces we are caught up in within reality. we don’t want to, in the course of observing these forces, pin the solution on individual choices of minority groups. we want to demand better forces, better ways of living, less compromised ways of becoming that which we desire to become.

[hey-hamlet]

number 54 for present mic!

So I ended up using this as an excuse to draw a sad mic, set in the wicked coffee au but that has no real bearing on the drawing other than his interesting choice in fashion. 

(He’s sad because Aizawa just yelled at him because he put a civ. in danger (accidentally) as a villain, so he got changed to go pout in some random corner of the city.) 

Quote: He tried to take a deep breath. Tried, because trying was all he had left. 

[sidney-johnson-blog1]

Music & Civ - BTS

The famous BTS South Korean singer group, known as Bangtan Sonyeondan in Korean or the Bangtan Boys, formed as a seven-boy band in Seoul in 2013. Though originally they favored a hip hop style, their music today consists of a wide range of many genres. Their lyrics tend to focus on topics such as loss, youth troubles, mental health, individualism, love and romance, the list goes on. As the years pass, the septet has continued to refine their musical genre and musical niche in today’s music world.

BTS became popular world wide through a number of subsequent events. After releasing several singles and an album or two over a handful of years, in 2016 in South Korea, BTS’ album Wings sold approximately one million copies. This was the first of their albums to have reached this achievement. In 2017, BTS broke through internationally and into the U.S. music market as well by breaking multiple sales records. They also earned the title of the first Korean group to receive a certification with their single Mic Drop from the Recording Industry Association of America. Additionally, as of 2019, they are the only Korean band to top the U.S. Billboard 200 with their album Love Yourself: Tear and have reached the feat of being the only group since the Beatles to earn three number one albums in less than a year. All these instances are true musical milestones that have gained BTS the international musical status they know today.

BTS and their music reminds me a good bit of the American pop quintet group, Pentatonix. Both are acapella singer groups that attract different music lovers far and wide because of their differing style of “normal” pop music in their own respective, and now international, settings. Also, it appears BTS is an original group of its kind, which lends to the fascination, fantastic fan base, and fun, flavorful music that BTS consistently and confidently offers music lovers in South Korea, the U.S., and other countries all over the globe.

[kerahlekung]

Quo vadis Azmin Ali...

Quo vadis Azmin Ali....

“Azmin ini party loyalist,” ujar seorang teman, antara ramai lagi teman yang mengulang kenyataan yang serupa. “Hang gila ka dia nak keluar parti?” soalnya kemudian, menegaskan bahawa Azmin sudah jadi orang nombor dua dalam PKR. Mana mungkin beliau mencabar Anwar Ibrahim; batang tubuh yang menjadi roh dan jasad parti itu. 23 April, genap dua bulan Azmin dan rakan-rakannya membuat keputusan keluar dari parti Anwar. Pengumuman keluar mungkin dibuat pada 24 Februari, tetapi sambil makan malam bersama Umno dan PAS di Sheraton itu, keputusannya pasti sudah dicapai. Menariknya, rakan-rakan Azmin ini bukan cicak mengkarung dalam rangkaian Anwar. Seperti juga Azmin, si “pemegang diari merah” mantan timbalan perdana menteri, gerombolan yang mengikut beliau meninggalkan parti juga boleh tahan “Anwarist”. Namun begitulah hakikatnya, bagaimana tiada kawan dan lawan yang kekal dalam politik. Seperti yang diulang sebut mendiang Karpal Singh. Apa yang kekal adalah prinsip. Itu pun kalau ada prinsip. Bagi kebanyakan orang yang menyertai pergulatan politik, prinsip adalah barang kudapan cita-cita utama untuk memperoleh pengaruh dan kekuasaan. Pengaruh dan kekuasaan itu pula digunakan untuk mendapatkan duit. Dan duit itu pula digunakan untuk mendapatkan lebih banyak pengaruh dan kuasa. Inilah dia apa yang dipanggil “realpolitik”.

Realpolitik itulah yang menyebabkan kuasa tiba-tiba beralih kembali ke tangan-tangan kotor Umno dan rakan-rakannya; tanpa perlu menang sebarang pilihan raya. Tetapi takkanlah setakat itu saja hasilnya untuk seorang Azmin? Dalam dua wawancara saya bersama beliau, Azmin tidak pernah menyatakan sebarang keinginan untuk menjadi perdana menteri. Kali pertama, Azmin bercerita panjang tentang kisah zaman remajanya menternak kambing dan ayam; sebelum sambung belajar ke Amerika, dan pulang ke tanah air untuk bekerja dengan Anwar. Kali kedua, wawancara setelah menjadi menteri besar Selangor. Pun tidak ada sebut mahu jadi PM. Walaupun saya tanya terus terang saja. Meski tidak pernah menyebut dengan jelas, kita semua tahu Azmin akhirnya bukan saja tidak mahu Anwar menjadi perdana menteri. Tetapi menurutnya yang paling layak mengambil alih jawatan PM itu, adalah beliau sendiri. Sejak bertanding timbalan presiden parti pada 2010, sehinggalah bergerak mengguling Khalid Ibrahim, dan akhirnya menghalang Anwar daripada menjadi PM, itulah dia objektif utama. Mungkin melampau kalau kita katakan Azmin melihat Muhyiddin Yassin sepertimana orang mendakwa Anwar melihat Dr Wan Azizah Wan Ismail – sebagai sekadar pemanas kerusi. Tetapi itulah hakikatnya. Kan?

Dilema Muhyiddin Pengarah Pendidikan Politik DAP Liew Chin Tong menulis panjang hujung minggu lalu tentang dilema Muhyiddin, pasca krisis Covid-19. Kerajaan Muhyiddin sebenarnya ditopang dengan majoriti sekadar dua atau tiga kerusi. Ertinya di Parlimen, sebarang urusan dan usul kerajaan cenderung gagal dengan hanya kekurangan beberapa undi. Dalam fabrik gabungan yang begitu demikian longgar; tanpa struktur parti, tanpa satu dasar bersama, tanpa titik temu yang sekata, Muhyiddin “dipegang telurnya” (maaf tiada bahasa yang lebih sesuai) oleh setiap seorang yang menyokongnya menjadi perdana menteri. Kalau tidak puas hati, atau ada tuntutan yang tidak didengari, picit saja. Umno contohnya, beberapa hari lalu dengan selamba mengutus surat dengan senarai tuntutan untuk saki baki pimpinannya di Sabah, tanpa rasa segan silu. Muhyiddin akan harus melayan dan pastinya nanti memenuhi permintaan itu. Ini belum dicampur masalah ekonomi dan peluang pekerjaan yang bakal merundung negara sebaik saja PKP berakhir, serta masalah sumber pendapatan negara akibat kejatuhan harga minyak dunia. Beban yang ditanggung Muhyiddin memang besar gedabak. Tetapi kalau Azmin mahu jadi perdana menteri menggantikan Muhyiddin, maka Azmin harus bertanya dirinya sendiri sama ada beliau bersedia untuk memikulnya.

Jalan menuju kerusi PM Untuk menjadi PM, Azmin yang kini ahli parti Bersatu pastinya akan perlu terlebih dulu naik menggantikan presiden parti itu, iaitu Muhyiddin. Maka jalan yang lebih mudah pastinya dengan menubuhkan parti sendiri. Parti itu pula mestilah membawa idea “muafakat agung”, idea perpaduan nasional yang secara ironinya kini diusung sebuah gabungan yang berpaut kepada sentimen Melayu-Islam dengan memomokkan DAP. Seperti biasa, analisis pasaran dilakukan terlebih dulu dengan mengajukan idea ini melalui pertubuhan seperti Pemuda Negara yang menampilkan wajah pegawai-pegawai Azmin dan logo bulan bintang seperti yang turut tertera di laman Wikipedia Perikatan Nasional. Apa yang sedikit lucu ialah bagaimana idea ini cuba dibungkus dengan menggunakan Dato’ Onn sebagai jenama besar, justeru mencetuskan cakap-cakap dalam kalangan wartawan tentang bagaimana Azmin akan menubuhkan Parti Negara, sepertimana Dato’ Onn juga. Dato’ Onn tidak berakhir menjadi perdana menteri. Beliau hanya pernah menjadi menteri besar Johor atas lantikan Sultan, sepertimana arwah bapanya yang merupakan MB Johor pertama, serta dua adik beradiknya yang turut dilantik sebagai MB ketika demokrasi masih belum wujud di Tanah Melayu.

Jawatan itu ditinggalkannya setelah menubuhkan Umno, yang kemudiannya turut beliau tinggalkan dan selepas itu menubuhkan Parti Malaya Merdeka, sebuah parti yang ditubuhkan sebagai lawan idea ketuanan Melayu yang dijuarai Umno. Parti Malaya Merdeka pun bungkus juga setelah dilihat tidak berjaya mendapat sokongan ramai. Parti itu hanya didekati kaum India. Dato’ Onn akhirnya menubuhkan Parti Negara pada 1953, sebuah parti politik yang prinsipnya bertentangan langsung dengan Parti Malaya Merdeka yang ditubuhkannya sebelum itu. Atas tiket Parti Negara inilah Dato’ Onn akhirnya berjaya menjadi Ahli Parlimen setelah menang dalam pilihan raya 1959, jauh di kerusi Kuala Terengganu Selatan. Malah ada juga yang menyebut Dato’ Onn akhirnya menyertai PAS sebelum meninggal dunia tiga tahun kemudian. Parti Negara turut hilang bersama Dato’ Onn. Justeru bagi Azmin, pilihan di tangan tidak begitu banyak. Ruang di depan semakin sempit. Beliau pastinya tahu Umno tidak akan begitu mudah memberi laluan, begitu juga PAS yang tidak kalah berdendam. Bersatu apatah lagi. Maka ke mana Azmin Ali akan pergi? – Roketkini.com

Amanat Duta Khas 

Kerajaang Tebuk Atap...

"Percayalah saudara, " Kita menyokong UMNO bukan kerana nama dia UMNO. Kita menyokong UMNO kerana dia memperjuangkan Melayu, dasar partinya Melayu walaupun tidak sokong hudud. Kita menentang PH bukan kerana namanya PH, kita menentang PH kerana partinya berbilang kaum dan PH menangkap pemimpin Melayu Islam yang rasuah. Oleh kerana PH mengekalkan dasar menentang rasuah, oleh itu kita menentangnya. Oleh kerana kita melawan puak2 ini, maka perjuangan kita adalah jihad. Ucapan kita adalah jihad. Rampasan kuasa ikut atap juga adalah jihad. Khianat mandat rakyat juga adalah jihad. Jadi duta khas adalah jihad. Jika kita mati di dalam keadaan kita jadi menteri dalam kerajaan tebuk atap ini, mati kita adalah syahid" . - From: Rusila,f/bk

The Ketuanan Melayu Agenda...

May 9th will mark two years since Pakatan Harapan (PH), against all odds, swept to victory. A party that did not expect to lose was swept from power by a coalition that didn’t think it could win. What giddy days they were! To say we were jubilant would be an understatement. The excited crowds outside the gates of Istana Negara waiting for Dr Mahathir Mohamad to be sworn in as prime minister will forever be etched in the memories of those who were there.  It made all the years of effort – including risking arrests to attend those Bersih rallies, training as election monitors and campaign workers, and going out of our way to vote – worth the while. Together, we took back the government from the hands of unscrupulous, immoral and corrupt politicians. For one moment in time, we were united by a shared hope that at last Malaysia would be able to embrace its destiny as a united, prosperous and democratic nation. Not since Merdeka had there been such a national outpouring of pride, hope and excitement. But it was not to be; our brief tryst with spring ended as abruptly as it began. Many factors, no doubt, contributed to the fall of the PH government; certainly, the bitter rivalry between Tun Dr Mahathir Mohamad and Datuk Seri Anwar Ibrahim dominated much of the news. Ultimately, however, it was the race factor more than anything else that proved destructive. Ketuanan Melayu ideologues from across the political spectrum – PPBM, UMNO, PKR and PAS – felt deeply threatened by the prospect of having to share power, even minimally, with the non-Malays. Unsurprisingly, the DAP which surged to new heights following GE14 quickly became the “Great Satan,” the embodiment of an existential threat to the Malays. If the whole concept of power-sharing was to be aborted, the DAP had to be discredited and removed from government. It is no secret that since May 1969, we’ve always had a multiracial government in name only; absolute power remained in the hands of UMNO which ruled primarily on behalf of one community. MCA, MIC and Gerakan were never more than bit players, they simply to lend credence to the lie that multiracial politics and national unity were alive and well.  It allowed UMNO, masquerading as Barisan Nasional, to rule as a multiracial government while pursuing an essentially race-based agenda.

GE14 upended that construct. The bitter, very personal battle between Mahathir and Datuk Seri Najib Tun Razak divided Ketuanan Melayu ideologues along with much of the Malay polity. So bitter was the feud with Najib that Mahathir, the architect of the Ketuanan Melayu agenda, was even willing to find common cause with the DAP and his other bitter rival (Anwar) to bring down Najib. Malay disunity – as Mahathir himself later claimed – allowed the non-Malays to win a record number of seats in parliament. It still left the Malays in an unassailable position given their majority in parliament, the civil service, the armed forces and police and in almost every other area of national life, but it did bring a more balanced representation to parliament at least. While many considered it a positive development, Ketuanan Melayu ideologues, long accustomed to seeing politics as a zero-sum game, saw the outcome of GE14 as a disastrous setback. To them the very idea of power-sharing was unacceptable, a direct challenge to the Ketuanan Melayu agenda and all it stood for. Consequently, while both Malay and non-Malay progressives and reformists celebrated, Ketuanan Melayu ideologues fumed. The former talked about democracy, transparency and accountability; Ketuanan Melayu ideologues complained about the loss of face, the threat to race, religion and culture. Reformists wanted to press ahead quickly with “reformasi”; Ketuanan Melayu ideologues wanted to hold on to the essentially authoritarian political structures that they had put in place since 1969.  Reformists wanted a fair distribution of wealth; Ketuanan Melayu elites wanted to maintain the system of crony capitalism that allowed them to exploit the wealth of the nation at will. Progressives yearned for a more open, tolerant and inclusive culture; Ketuanan Melayu ideologues would have none of it. The rejection of power-sharing was clearly evident in Malay political discourse post-GE14.   Incendiary statements like “Malaysia is for Malays”, non-Muslims ought not to be given senior positions in government, Malay rights and culture were being undermined, the position of the Malay rulers was being challenged, non-Malays were disrespecting the Malays, were aggressively thrown into the narrative.  At the same time, non-existent threats from Communists, Christians and Tamil Tigers were deliberately played up to give the impression that the nation was facing a dire and imminent threat to its very existence. Reality didn’t matter; the objective was to manufacture a crisis of confidence in the PH government. The underlying message was clear: the Malay community alone had the exclusive, God-ordained right to rule Malaysia. “Immigrant” communities – the pendatang – could remain for so long as they did not challenge Malay rule or even aspire to be equal partners in the governance of the nation. 

It was not a novel idea. In his seminal treatise The Malay Dilemma written almost 50 years ago, Mahathir opined that “Malays are the rightful owners of Malaya, and that if citizenship is conferred on races other than the Malays, it is because the Malays consent to this. This consent is conditional.” Such a view was, fundamentally, a complete repudiation of the Merdeka agreement which envisaged shared citizenship and joint responsibility for the governance of the nation within a secular, democratic and constitutional framework. Ketuanan Melayu ideologues had long complained, albeit erroneously, that the British had done the Malays a great disservice when it forced them to accept non-Malay citizenship and participation in the political process in exchange for independence. When they saw an opportunity to correct what was in their mind a historic injustice, they jumped at it. As pressure grew for Anwar to take over from Mahathir (as per the PH succession plan), Ketuanan Melayu ideologues – united by their common disdain for sharing power with non-Malays – were galvanised into action. To them Anwar was unacceptable because, as Mahathir himself complained, he was not sufficiently committed to the Ketuanan Melayu agenda. His leadership of a multiracial coalition, his constant calls for unity, tolerance and inclusiveness was a bridge too far for the right-wing members of his own community. Mahathir himself had, of course, been plotting and planning for months to create a more Malay-centric government both to advance his Ketuanan Melayu agenda as well as to stymie Anwar (whom he personally loathed). His plan was to entice UMNO and PAS parliamentarians (sans some of their leaders) to join his own stable of parliamentarians to form a new Malay unity government.  What he didn’t count on was that Muhyiddin, who did not share his scruples about tainted UMNO leaders, would beat him to it. Whatever it is, the end result was a seismic political shift no less significant than May 13th. The ‘Sheraton Move’ effectively nullified the results of GE14, disenfranchised the non-Malay vote, curtailed power-sharing with non-Malays and re-established absolute Malay hegemony. The Malaysian spring, along with the reformasi agenda, is now over. Will a harsh winter follow? - Dennis Ignatius 

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Story kat sini...

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