#i was born to get banned for flame wars

[gogoakechi]

i will not become emotionally invested in how my classmates interpret an example of a short story in my creative writing class and i will not think poorly of them for having opinions i disagree with

[obaewankenope]

"WELCOME TO HELL."

A loud, booming voice bellows across the flaming planes of despair and misery that make up, well, Hell. Maybe if I'd been born a medieval peasant or, I don't know, suitably Christian, I'd probably have been more concerned with the literal reality of Hell but, honestly, I'm a millennial. I focus on weird shit to the exclusion of all else because hey, that's more sane than watching the news and seeing the 21st century being the end-of-humanity century via war, climate change, and ecological destruction the likes of which humanity has never before known! Cheery things to focus on, not.

Anyway; loud, booming voice bellowing a greeting to the newly dead and Judged™ (I guess) me.

"Who got the job to welcome new souls to Hell and didn't think to be original with it?" I asked out loud because sometimes internal thoughts become external sentences that my brain and I do not agree on and thus happen without my informed consent.

ADHD is... Something and even dead, I've still got it apparently. Kind of feels like a problem for everyone else really. I'm used to my brand of chaos. Double RIP to the souls that aren't.

"Or did they get the job like millenia ago and got real bored trying to be original every time a soul showed up? Or is the voice automated? It's probably automated. Everything is nowadays." I rolled my eyes. "Good luck finding an actual human to talk to before the automated voice lists twelve million options and gives you way more advice and 'warnings' than you need to hear with anxiety and a hyperactive mind."

I rant, I admit that. I've already ranted. Rambled. Digressed along a seventeen year path. Waxed lyrical about Parisian sewers, so to speak. It's just what I do. ADHD brain, as we say.

Now, I don't think I did anything wrong, personally, but apparently ranting when you get dropped off to Hell and let your inner thoughts become a slew of outer words is... Grounds for direct intervention.

No, I don't know why, and no, I'm also not going to ask why. I'm banned from having contact with The Devil™ for eternity. There's an actual court document stating it. Yeah, the afterlife has a court system, I know.

Anyway, direct intervention.

"CEASE YOUR PRATTLE!"

Big, booming voice on The Devil™. A mix between very loud choral music and a heavy metal rock band concert that's figured out how to make their entire set louder than human ears can safely hear. And they're pretty close to that limit normally.

"Uh, okay," I slowly said in response to the very loud demand from a literal Fallen Angel because, well, you kind of would, wouldn't you. Except I'm not normal. Like I said, I'm a millennial and we've never been known to stay quiet when we probably should.

I blame the internet.

"But seriously, it's a valid question," I continued after a moment where The Devil™ probably thought I was cowed or terrified or something. Jokes on them, I have no self-preservation instincts to speak of and have literally not reacted to almost being ran over before.

Which... Might be how I died, actually. Hmm. Something to think about!

"Just, this is meant to be the place for damned souls and all that jazz, you'd expect the initial experience to really set up the whole thing to be more... Well, more impressive than a loud voice shouting 'Welcome to Hell'," I kept going because, again, I have the self-preservation instincts of a mantaree.

I may have done a little dramatic voice change for the 'welcome to hell' bit of my sentence but that's not really important to this story .The Devil™ wasn't impressed by it though.

"YOU ARE TRAPPED IN HELL, CAST OUT AND JUDGED BY GOD—" a lot of vitriol on that word there "—AND WILL FOREVER BE DENIED PARADISE AND YOUR FOCUS IS NOT ON YOUR SUFFERING BUT ON THE GREETING YOU RECEIVE WHEN YOU ENTER THIS PLACE?"

Okay, so, I don't think The Devil™ can sound confused the way we humans do, honestly I don't, but at the moment The Devil™ definitely sounded pretty confused to me.

"Well, yeah," I replied. I'm still confused about how The Devil™ didn't seem to understand my perspective here but, well, I can rant like the best of them and I'm very good at it when I need to explain something. "It's the principle of the matter really. You've got the whole damned-ness going on; the fire and the brimstone and the vibes are very despair-y. That's all great! Top marks there. But," I pause to make that sound where you pull air in through your teeth to sort of hiss but not hiss. You know what I mean.

"The voice isn't intimidating, it doesn't really give you anything when you show up confused or whatever. It's just loud and not even demonic or anything. Honestly, it sounds like how a greetings sign to some random town feels. Kind of just... There. It's a bit underwhelming." I paused. "A lot underwhelming."

Maybe it was the way I talked or how fast I am when I speak aloud but The Devil™ seemed more bothered by my critique than by me actually not being scared of them. Which, well, I figure us millennials can't be the only ones who focus on weird shit when there's more 'reasonable' stuff to focus on at times. Kind of figures The Devil™ would do the same. Though, in The Devil's™ defense, I guess their entire getup inspires fear and terror so they just take it as their due, so to speak.

"YOU DARE INSULT MY DOMAIN!!"

Where The Devil™ got that from, I don't know but I was not there for it. At all.

"I AM THE RULER AND ABSOLUTE OF THIS DOMAIN AND I SHALL-"

"Woah, wait a minute, I'm not insulting your domain! I'm giving a critique that you asked for tacitly by asking me so don't forget about that!"

I cut The Devil™ off mid-sentence. I literally cut The Devil™ off because, honestly, listen, I've survived a lot of shit online in my life. I have had enough of being accused of insulting something or someone when I've been giving an actual critique or criticism that was constructive. If I didn't take it off BootLickerTrumpLover99 then I sure as hell wasn't going to take it off The Devil™.

Even if The Devil™ could reduce me to metaphysical mulch.

"Like, it feels superfluous to have that voice when, I don't know, a sign would work just as well. And even if you wanted to keep the voice greeting, which, yeah works for anyone with a visual impairment, it's not creepy or demon-y or even scary sounding. It's just generic." I looked up at The Devil™ then and maybe they realised I wasn't being an ass or something. Like, honestly I wasn't. I actually really was kind of invested in this now.

Mainly because they sort of offended me by thinking I was insulting their greeting voice without at least having some constructive criticism for them.

"AND WHAT WOULD YOU SUGGEST?" The Devil™, the actual fucking Devil, asked me and they didn't even sound pissed.

I literally got asked my opinion by The OG Fallen Angel. This is probably why I ended up in Hell. For this reason alone. Or because I may have caused some uh… Questionable things to occur in my lifetime.

I hummed in thought, tapping my chin because I thought it'd look cool. It probably didn't. "Well, I guess you could change the pitch of the voice if you want to keep that particular greeting so it's less corporate American mall and more... The batteries have run down but the speakers are still working enough to transmit so enjoy the distortion and the accompanying nightmares it'll give you. That would work better," I said and the Devil™ actually nodded at me.

Nodded!

"You could change it to something more childish sounding complete with giggle or laughter or something equally disconcerting because of the dissonance of a child's voice announcing that you're in Hell; that'd get some people good, I think," I continued, really in the swing of it now because this, this is my jam really.

Belting out ideas whether they be for cursed fics, crack pairs or the kind of voice you could use to welcome people to Hell, it doesn't matter the context, I am very good at thinking things.

"I guess a really distorted, demonic sounding—like you hear in movies and stuff all the time because hey, being original is something Hollywood is allergic to I swear—that could work too. I don't know if it'd work for everyone or if they'd not be able to make out what was said." I blinked. "Though, that might scare some people more if it's on a loop and they have to listen to it over and over to figure out it's welcoming them to Hell. Oh, that'd be kind of evil actually." I looked at The Devil™ sort of delighted with myself for that little realisation.

"REPETITION DOES TEND TO TERRIFY MORTALS MORE THAN SINGULAR OCCURENCES, YES." The Devil™ actually agreed with me.

"Yeah, it's because our brains are wired for pattern recognition. When something is just not normal to our perception but we listen or watch it over and over, we notice the discrepancies more and more until they're all we can see and they freak us the fuck out," I explained because, well, this is also my wheelhouse.

I have a lot of jams and wheelhouses, okay.

"YOU HAVE GIVEN ME MUCH TO CONSIDER," The Devil™ said in what was probably the closest to a conversational tone they could manage. It still sounded like it'd obliterate my eardrums if I wasn't a metaphysical representation of my human form and was made of flesh and bone still.

"Oh, you're welcome then," I said because, well, what else are you meant to say to that? "If you ever want to throw some ideas or things to critique my way I'm—"

I got cut off then by a very, very loud sound that was sort of like a thousand echoes all sounding at the same time and also an orchestra and choir at full volume. It was really loud, okay, and I definitely blanked for a second or two on the metaphysical plane of existence because of it.

"RELEASE THE SOUL YOU TOOK BEFORE ITS TIME OR YOU SHALL BE CAST FURTHER FROM WHERE YOU ALREADY FELL!"

I don't know if you've ever seen The Devil™, you probably haven't, but they had that look a toddler does when they've been naughty and got caught at the last second. You know the look? Yeah, you know it. Well, that's the expression The Devil™ had on their huge form that was vaguely humanoid.

Actually, thinking about it, they probably only looked humanoid to me because I perceived them that way. Huh, that's something to think about again at 3am.

Back to that loud voice and what clearly seemed to be a kid caught being naughty.

Most people, most sane people, probably would have stayed silent there but well, we've already established I am not most people.

"Uh, what's happening right now and does it really require violence to resolve?" I asked because, well, you gotta ask that really. "Because I really don't think violence is the answer, unless it is the answer in which case can I please vacate the area before the fighting because I am definitely out-classed here?"

"COME AWAY MORTAL, YOU DO NOT BELONG IN THIS PLACE!" That very loud, clearly not The Devil™ voice said to me and, okay, I'm not stupid but I can be slow on the uptake sometimes.

Besides, no one is stupid. That's ableist as fuck and I'm not here for that.

"Wait, I thought I died? And got judged, or whatever it is that happens to assign souls where they belong or whatever," I said because I'd kind of assumed that. Though, I didn't actually remember any Judgement™ happening.

"YOU WERE STOLEN BEFORE YOU COULD BE JUDGED MORTALS FOR THE FALLEN ANGEL KNEW WELL YOU DID NOT BELONG IN THEIR REALM OF DESPAIR!"

"THEY BELONG HERE MORE THAN THEY DO IN HEAVEN!" The Devil™ argued back with the… Angel, I guess. "ALREADY THEY SPEAK OF THE SUFFERING OF OTHERS WITH GLEE!"

"Hey hey hey, we don't kinkshame okay!" I blurted out and definitely got Looks for that. Fair. "You can enjoy something just fine but if you actively use what you enjoy to hurt others without their consent, then you're an asshole. Having ideas is not the same as acting on those ideas!"

"THE MORTAL SPEAKS TRUE AND YOU KNOW IT FALLEN, LET THEM LEAVE!"

I never knew The Devil™ could look sad but, well, they kind of looked sad at that order. Rebellious but that's expected of the literal first rebel ever to rebel. Sad though…

"Hey, it's not like you can't still ask my opinion on stuff, or for some concrit, you know," I said to The Devil™ trying to literally cheer up The Devil™. Yeah, I actually did that.

"THE FALLEN WILL HAVE NO CONTACT WITH YOU MORTALS FOR THEY DO NOT BELONG IN ANY PLACE THAT HAS THE LIGHT OF THE CREATOR IN IT!"

"Isn't there a Skype or, I don't know, Spiritual MSN or something to at least send a message though?" You'd think there would be something like that in the afterlife.

Apparently not though.

"NO."

I looked at The Devil™ and, honestly, I felt pretty bad. I hadn't been judged yet so maybe I'd end up back in Hell anyway but just up and disappearing, possibly forever, when The Devil™ seemed to actually enjoy someone having some constructive criticism for them… I'll admit, I'm a sucker for that. Blame my Livejournal and Ff.net days for that.

"Well, what if I just don't go then?" I asked, "you said I'm not judged yet so why don't I just judge myself, say I belong in Hell and then we all just go on our way like nothing happened?"

"HELL IS FOR THOSE WHO DESERVE PUNISHMENT, MORTAL!" The Angel reminded me like I didn't know that already.

I might have been a shitty Catholic but I still got raised on that stuff, I know what Hell is for.

And purgatory.

"It's also for a variety of people who didn't really do anything wrong but got the short end of the religious diatribe anyway," I pointed out. The Devil™ looked strangely delighted with me. "Unless Dante was wrong about the structure of Hell in his Comedies."

"HE WAS NOT," The Devil™ helpfully added.

"ENOUGH!" The Angel bellowed. "YOU WILL COME WITH ME MORTAL, NOW!"

Okay, so, bit of advice for you. Never, I repeat, never tell someone with ADHD to do something. If you're lucky, they'll grumble and do it but, usually, you're not lucky. Because most people with ADHD also have this thing where they get really oppositional to commands. It's called Oppositional Defiance Disorder. And, well, guess what I have?

"No."

"NO!"

"NO?"

"No." I repeated. "You don't get to tell me what to do just because you're all big and Angelic and stuff."

Now, I never knew this but The Devil™ is actually capable of the exact same shit-eating-grin you read about in stories and see on TV that is absolutely the grin someone has when chaos is happening and they are here for it.

"YOU CANNOT REFUSE!"

"I just did," I retorted. "And since Free Will is a thing, you can't make me."

Now, apparently a single Angel can't, so I'm right there. And Free Will is also a thing, so another right there. But…

Well, Free Will can be superseded by The Creator if and when they feel like it. And, apparently, death can be overruled too by The Creator when you're being stubborn.

"THEN THE CREATOR SHALL TAKE YOU MORTAL, FOR YOU DO NOT BELONG HERE!"

"Consent is sexy and I am not okay with this!" I exclaimed.

"GOODBYE MORTAL," The Devil™ said to me and in the next moment, I was here.

So yeah, that's how I've ended up alive again, and yeah, I'll take a straw with my drink, thanks.

[popculturebuffet]

Ghostbusters 1984 review: Dickless for 40 Years and Running! (Comissioned by Weird Kev)

Hello all you happy people and welcome to the start of our look at ghost busters! Kev's a fan, i'm a fan, your a literal sentient fan that eats children to survive. We're all fans here.

In 1980 Dan Akroyd drove his car into columbia pictures with a dream.. to make a film about his love of ghosts and since he wouldn't leave they sent director ivan reitman to get him to. Instead Ivan agreed with the dream and agreed to not have columbia pictures, which he was mayor of, to press charges. They then went to get their friend Harold Ramis who was, ironically trapped in the phantom zone and with the help of mon el they freed him and all 4 escaped.

Then they had to spend a year curing MOn El's led poisning but unfortuatnely failed and had ot send him to the future. With their venkman gone, they instead went with Bill Murray, who had just finished up being a consuler at a summer camp by the time the summer of 81 rolled around. They had three but they needed a fourth. So the four set out on an epic quest to find their fourth ghostbuster. So they arrived in Morganville, which is what they called Shelbyville in those days. So they tied an onion to their belts, which was the style at the time. Now, to take the ferry cost a nickel, and in those days, nickels had pictures of bumblebees on 'em. "Give me five bees for a quarter," you'd say. Now, where were we? Oh yeah, the important thing was they had an onion on their belt, which was the style at the time. They didn't have white onions because of the war. The only thing you could get was those big yellow ones.

Any ways they soon found ernie hudson but he was in the thrall of the shadow king so to free him Murray winged him real godo with a boot and then a now free enrie threw him into the sun.

With that production began, but soon mysterious murders began just like what happened in woodsburo a few years ago, and bill murray sadly died confronting ghostface. To revivie him our heroes went back in time and managed to save him and unmask ghostface early, but marty mcfly's parents ceased to exist, so they went back again only to make a world ruled by apes. This was satisfactory enough for a while but when the apes decreed ghosts and all depecitons of them banned our heroes went back AGAIN and finally got a timeline that worked well enough. Bill Murray was a transformer now of course and ernie hudson could turn water into flame, but those were okay. Dan Akroyd, who was now a cartoon dog wrote a new draft, the studio loved it and thus ghostbusters was born.

They cast an all star cast: Some Guy as Walter Peck, some other guy as the mayor, Segornye Weaver who had an uneventful year but wasn't about to tell the cartoon dog, and Rick Moranis, who had his own epic quest with best friend and great white north co-star dave thomas to save the world that we'll get to some other day. THe film was a hit, created a franchise and here we are so join me under the cut will ya.

So the film begins with famous outlaws Billy the Kid and Belle Starr rising from the dead. Depsite having died a decade apart and billy having been about 20 and belle 40, they both look middle aged as they plan to rustle cattle, there apparnetly being no beef in the afterlife

We'll deal with that terror as we get our title sequence, as Ray Jay Parker junior.. sorry three old white men sing the ghost busters theme. All three are here KOng, the leader, Spencer, the dumb one dressed like jack napier for some reason and Tracy, the gorilla who wears hats.

Their the ghost busters, they caper after ghosts and work out of an apartment in what could only be new york. So after the opening they have some banter i've blocked out because I want to live and sad to say it hasn't held up well> Speaking of holding up I can't really keep this up so

APRIL FOOLS BITCHES

Yeah bad news, we will not be covering the 1984 classic ghostbusters.. till October. Yeah this is a hell of a way to do it but in october we'll be starting a yearly look at one of the best comedy franchises around, Ghostbusters, starting with the original timeline: Ghostbusters, Ghostbusters II, the video game and the first arc of the idw comic. And possibly a brucey bonus as we have an extra week.

To kick this off we decided to look not at the movies.. but at the OTHER ghost busters... the 1975 live action filmation show starring two guys from f troop and a guy in a gorilla suit who dick around an office, get a call from some guy named zero, and then bust ghosts.

This show is also why the real ghostbusters are called that: Filmation made the BOLD choice to do thier own cartoon based on the 70's show to cash in, Columbia said HELL NO, and since they coudln't get it stopped (It was within filmation's rights) instead named theirs the REAL GHOSTBUSTERS. And it was. We'll look at the other one next year for now let's talk about the live action show

The reason I couldn't hold up the gag is simple: The Ghost Busters... is pain. It is deep hurting. it is grief in telvision form. The Ghost Busters.. is lame. Or, at the very least the episode Kev choose by roulette wheel , they went thataway is. Kev is also now barred from using a randomizer for at least a review or two. Sorry kev.

I thought it might at least have a chuckle, I mean it's a series with a giant gorilla and their chasing cowboys. This had to be at least a LITTLE fun right? right?

I mean ... it was a LITTLE fun as Tracy the gorilla.. is genuinely a delight. He throws a man upside down when he tries cheating him in a coin toss, wears delightful hats, and somehow makes a giant propellor work on a model airlplane. Is the schitch he does all that funny? no. Is he still charming anyway because it's a gorilla? yes. Sadly we do NOT get to see a fake gorilla drive a fake car.

The fact a fake gorilla doing mildly amusing schtick is the only thing this episode did that was remotely amusing should tell you to RUN SAVE YOURSELVES FOR THE LOVE OF GOD RUN. RUN. NEVER LOOK BACK. RUN. RUNNNNNN.

But since you didn't take my warning if your onto this paragraph, let the misery continue: While I can enjoy a corny joke on occasion, The Ghost Busters is the corniest of jokes. It is the lamest of ideas. It is just 20 solid minute of dad jokes without the charm of being told by an actual dad. We get a joke where the cowboys ask if Spencer , the idiot of the group wants to wet his whistle.. AND THEN HE DIPS IT IN WATER. GET IT. GET IT. GET IT. GET IT GET...

Every fucking joke is like that: a pun without any sense of irony or whimsy that makes a pun tolerable.

The actual premise is also just.. not funny. Cowboys want to rustle up cattle because hell apparently has none. Maybe that's why theirs so many delightful 40's cannibals, we don't know. So they want to go cattle rustling but DOHOHOHO THEIRS NO CATTLE IN THE CITY and they make soup but it's warm despite no fire because she LEFT IT ON TWICE AS LONG DOHOHOHO. i'm dying inside because this show is inane DOHOHOHOHO.

I"m.. not exaggerating. I'm a forgiving man: I find the good in most stuff I review even fi I don't like it. I try to be positive: it's why most stuff I review or get comissioned for is stuff that's GOOD. And even the mediocre or bad I can still usually find something but this show has a gorilla with hats and NOTHING else. Kong and Spencer have the "schemer guy and idiot" schtick you've seen a million times. The jokes are trite as hell and were played out in 1975 to the point i'm baffled this came out in the 70's. It was aimed at kids sure but kids aren't THIS stupid. I thought given the gorilla it'd at least be goofy fun or so bad it's good.. but it's just nothing. I'm struggling to find things to say that aren't "I died a little on the inside watching this".

The actual "plot" is paper thin, which is fine for a comedy if it's actually funny. To use a refrence to the good ghostbusters, Meatballs, from the same director, is good. it's also a lot of scenes of dicking around with teens. But the bill murray jokes, his friendship with chris makepiece, the jokes that do work, that makin it dance scene.. it has more than enough to compensate. It also has a truly awful scene I skip every time that acts like consent don't exist.

This is just "dick around with cowboys", "Dick around till they go to get the call from ghost man", dick around with cowboys again" , "Dick around a bit after getting their assigment' , "Dick around and pretend to be cowboys", "Catch ghosts embarassingly easy while billy the kid humps the air". The only clever or notable things are the fact the ghosts randomly age and that Bella gets a happy ending as they at least cooked her a meal first.

So yeah this was 25 minutes of my life i'll never get back. I wish I had more to say but this is just.. nothing. Maybe the dracula or frankenstien episodes have more I don't know, and I don't care. This was a MASSIVE disapointment and hopefully the cartoon willl be better. Thanks for reading.

[tamlindudley]

So I did some digging on Rebecca Yarros’ Instagram for that infamous “both sides” posts and the only one I could find was one from October 15, 2023 with a photo of text that says “Children are not collateral damage.” In the caption, she writes: “For those harassing me and spreading false information about “my opinion” on world events, this will always be it: CHILDREN ARE NOT COLLATERAL DAMAGE.

This discussion shouldn’t be centered on my white, privileged voice, but to those tagging me and throwing around accusations that I support genocide, I will say this: As someone whose grandfather survived a Nazi concentration camp as a POW and suffered the lifelong physical effects of torture, I find your accusations not only false, but personally insulting.

I abhor war in every form, which is why every military book I write delves into the myriad of ways war irrevocably harms people. I’ve received dozens of documented, nauseating, and frightening D* and R* threats in the past due to my anti-war views, which leaves me hesitant to speak on THIS platform. I’d rather ACT by boosting other voices and donating money, which I have.

I condemn violence. I am absolutely horrified by the despicable attack on Israel. I’m terrified for the children and Palestinian innocents of Gaza. Their living conditions are inhumane. Both emotions are valid. It’s called humanity. I don’t know the answer, but I view children as equally precious, no matter where they’re born. This isn’t taking a “both sides stance.” This is a human rights stance.

As for my book translations: I will always stand against book banning (as I spoke on at the Kennedy Center last week), and refusing a translation is in my opinion a form of banning. It denies people who only speak that language access to knowledge, to different opinions, to information and perspectives that can help change hearts and minds. Books spread empathy and understanding in every form. To assume my political stance based on where my publisher (for trad books) or I (for self-published works) sell my rights for translations would be a mistake.

Now please, go donate money to the causes who can help the innocents, and elevate the voices that need to be heard. Mine shouldn’t have to be one of them.

*** Edited to add “Palestinian” as I was educated that only saying “children and innocents in Gaza” was harmful, and honestly, I’m just over here doing my best and learning.”

Interestingly, I couldn’t find the original post of her fence sitting anywhere so she must’ve deleted or edited it. She hasn’t posted anything else related to Palestine since then nor has she said anything on her Twitter account. She’s only liked one post from USA Today about supporting Gaza but nothing else. I’m honestly not that surprised considering the shitshow that was Iron Flame

This is interesting, and there are certainly people having worse takes than this. I'm curious what exactly led her to get labeled as a Zionist in the first place though, to which she's responded with this. Because she can't have done nothing for the book community to point fingers at her, and her having to speak up about it.

I still suggest buying second hand if you want her books. There's always plenty on ebay or fb marketplace.

[ginisbetterthanfirewhisky]

hello!! I’m safa I love ginny myself and she’s a very lovely and lucky girl! I really relate to her <3! I’ve got a huge question that other people should know.

HOW much times has ginny cared for harry?

and please tell me why you love our read-headed hard-blazing girl! <3 I just love hearing it from you!!!

Hi! Thank you so much for the ask.

Ginny, despite having a crippling crush on Harry till her third year, has shown plenty of times that she does understand Harry, contrary to what many people think.

When she saw Harry for the first time at King's Cross station, she was naturally starstruck just like the rest of the Wizarding World. Heck, even rational, muggle born Hermione who hadn't even heard Harry's name until she read it in a book a month ago, couldn't stop having a celebrity moment around him. What about poor Ginny, who had probably heard stories of the great Harry Potter since she was a child?

I'm certain Ron must've talked a lot about Harry at home after coming back from his first year, and hearing all about Harry's heroics (that 11 year old Ron might have exaggerated) intensified that celebrity crush. But, you can see a stark difference between Ginny's behaviour around Harry in PS and CoS. In the first book, she is your average, squealing little fangirl who goggles at Harry and wants to get into the train compartment to see him up close. But in CoS, she is much quieter, clumsier and shier in his presence. Like an eleven year old girl with a crush on her older brother's cool best friend. That's not to say that she doesn't see him as a bit of a hero- of course she does, it's not like she really knows him, but she gets the general idea about him, and about the fact that he doesn't like the attention he receives (like when she defends him against Draco at Flourish and Blotts.)

Then, in PoA, she is much more awkward. Understandable, as he was the one who saved her life and all. On the train ride to Hogwarts, when the Dementors arrive, the two people who get affected the most are Harry and Ginny, who have both witnessed terrible things. In fact, JKR deliberately draws attention to this with the line "Ginny looked as bad as Harry felt." This sets a common chord between the two of them- both of them have been irreversibly touched by darkness. They understand each other. My favourite underrated moment between Harry and Ginny is when Ginny gives Harry a homemade get-well-soon card when he falls off his broomstick when Dementors enter the Quidditch pitch during the match against Hufflepuff. She knows how much the Dementors can affect you.

In the fifth book, Harry and Ginny display the "brooding/gentle" dynamic. Ginny is constantly described as a cheery, warm presence. (The "bright" imagery to describe Ginny was used by JKR as far back as CoS, where she "glows like the setting sun", has "bright" brown eyes and "blushes to the roots of her flaming hair"), in contrast to Harry's brooding one. When Harry is down after watching the Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff match from the sidelines after being banned from playing, it is Ginny who optimistically tries to cheer him up. She also reads his mind about Ron's performance (in fact, JKR deliberately draws attention to this and adds the phrase "as though reading his mind".) Then at Christmas, when he is worried about being possessed by Voldemort, she isn't scared of being firm with him and coolly calling him out. She does the same when he speaks rudely with her and Luna when they are about to go to the Ministry to rescue Sirius. She also knows when to be gentle and calm, and lend a ear, like in the library scene in the same book.

In the sixth book, Ginny is a reprieve from all the darkness around Harry. She is described as "his best source of comfort", and the time spent with her is "like something out of someone else's life". It is full of sunlit days and happiness away from Voldemort and the war. In DH, she is described as "blissful oblivion", and the brief period when they dated was like "stolen hours out of the life of someone without a lightning shaped scar". She is someone who inspires him to live for himself, not just to complete his duties towards the Wizarding World. Even in his (supposedly) last moments, Harry think of her.

Haha, I'm sure you didn't want to read such a long ramble, but I went off. :)

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

DSMP Anniversary Recap: L’MANBERG

After their drug business idea resulted in disaster last time, Wilbur comes back to the server with a second plan: to turn their humble Camarvan into a new, independent server where no Americans are whitelisted.

The first order of business? Build a wall.

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VOD LINKS:

Tubbo [unavailable]

Ponk [unavailable]

TommyInnit

Wilbur Soot

Eret [unavailable]

Punz [unavailable]

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The previous day, Wilbur and Tommy discussed their plans for building an empire as Tommy constructed an underground sewer system, a nation where selling drugs is allowed.

“How do you know Sapnap’s not gonna like, I dunno, you know what they’re like, man, how do we know they’re not gonna…make it a war?” 

“How I see it is they can declare war, they can do whatever they want, but if we just ignore them and don’t acknowledge it, we win. We can’t lose...”

---

- Tommy’s noticed that the server is full of fighting, and he wants money. How does one monetize fighting? A fight club! He can make a fight club in his basement

- Alyssa comes over and hands him a poppy with Ponk. Ponk explains that Alyssa is his lawyer

- Wilbur tells Tommy off for being rude to them

- Later, Sapnap comes over to his basement. Tommy touches the “Do Not Touch” chest and falls to his death

- Sapnap likes Tommy’s fight club idea and helps him dig out the room

- Wilbur joins Tommy’s VC as Tommy is speaking with Sapnap and scolds him for talking with an American, pulling him into a different VC.

Last time, they tried to sell drugs out of their hotdog van and some people didn’t approve of that. This time? Wilbur wants a revolution.

Wilbur: “Starting a movement is easy. You know, Tommy? Anyone can start a movement. Movements are cool. If you start a movement towards a common good, you’re cool! You know? Nothing ever goes wrong! Revolutions are hard, Tommy. Lots of people are gonna oppose us, Tommy.”

- The first thing they need to do…is build a wall

- Wilbur logs on in the Camarvan and sees Tubbo’s package of blaze rods. Tommy asks how much armor he should be wearing, Wilbur says none

Wilbur: “We don’t win wars with battles and with armor. We win wars with our words, Tommy. We’re starting a revolution, not a war.”

- He opens the package of blaze rods from Tubbo and talks about how his wildest dream is a nation where they can sell drugs with no one to stop them

Wilbur: “Why are you being all quiet and slow to talk to me?”

Tommy: “No no no, I’m just trying to decipher who’s on the right side of history right now.”

- Wilbur shows Tommy all the blaze rods. They’re on the right side of history. Tommy shows Wilbur the flaming hotdog on top of the van. He likes it

- The first law of their new place is that no UHC block placement is allowed (he demonstrates by parkouring across the water). That’s banned

- Sapnap comes over and gives Wilbur some blaze rods

Wilbur: “Oh yeah, you can’t buy our peace from your tyranny.”

Sapnap: (whispering to Wilbur) I’ve changed Sapnap: just Sapnap: look Sapnap: Ive tried brewing

Wilbur: once an American always an American

- Tommy punches him away and Sapnap goes away. They call him. Sapnap says, though he can’t join their posse, once their empire grows he wants to buy their potions. He’s possibly addicted to their supply. They have their first export

- Wilbur needs sand, gravel and dandelions for the wall. He sends Tommy on his way. Tommy asks the new empire’s policy on women. Wilbur says they’re allowed as long as they’re European

- Wilbur starts drawing out the border and asks him what their new nation should be called

- Dream logs on. Tommy asks Wilbur how he and Dream have been since they flirted. Wilbur says he just wants to rob George of his loves. Wilbur asks Dream if he wants to kiss

Wilbur: “He’s not responding. Is he gonna ban me for xenophobia?”

Dream: (in chat) who

Wilbur: (in chat) you

Tommy: “What’s…what’s ‘xeno…?’”

Wilbur: “A distaste towards other countries.”

Tommy: “Oh look, here’s Tubbo. He’s on his own adventure.”

Dream: social distancing

Wilbur: SMART

Tubbo fell from a high place.

- Wilbur screams after getting startled by Tommy coming into the van. Tommy throws him a carrot (“Have a carrot, please, calm yourself”) and gives Wilbur the supplies for the concrete

- Tommy goes to speak with “Small T” (Tubbo) and they get him in VC. Tommy tells him “viva la revolution!” and asks for some sand. They also need black dye

Wilbur: “Tubbo, what’s your stance on the States?”

Tubbo: “Those United States? I mean, I’ve heard stuff’s pretty nuts over there so I guess it’s not going great for them.”

Wilbur: “Yeah, we’re pulling a reverse independence.”

Tommy: “Yeah, we’re taking away their independence!”

Wilbur: “No no no no no, we’re not – no no, they’re staying independent. We’re claiming independence from the server.”

Tubbo: “I thought everyone was already independent? Everyone can already do what they want.”

Wilbur: “No, see, when you’re on this server, you’re on the Dream SMP, right? Yeah, we’re making our own land so that when you are in our borders you are no longer on the Dream SMP.”

Tubbo: “Oh…okay…”

- From the drug war a few days ago, Wilbur’s decided that the Americans can’t be trusted to run their own nation

Wilbur: “So what we’re doing is we’re – we’re taking control. We’re making our own nation.”

Tubbo: “Nice!”

Wilbur: “Our own server. And we’re gonna make the Americans pay for it!”

Tubbo: “Wai– uhhhh…”

Wilbur: “See the thing is, Tubbo, server upkeep costs money. A pittance to Dream, may I add, the billionaire thing he is, but like, we still – we’re gonna be still not paying a single penny for the upkeep of the server. But we will have our own independent emancipated land that will not be part of the server.”

- Tubbo is onboard. They ask Tubbo for name suggestions. Tubbo suggests “Not Dream SMP.” Wilbur wants something more original

- Tommy comes back with an idea. There’s only one woman on the server, and they won’t be letting her into the state since she’s American, so what he’s thinking is:

Tommy: “Why don’t we call it…Manberg? Or alternatively, Mantopia?”

Wilbur: “I like Mantopia. But how do we make it European? United Manberg.”

Tommy: “United Mantopia. UNM – wait, lemme Google if it means anything offensive—"

- Since it only stands for the University of New Mexico, Tommy decides it’s good. But Wilbur realizes it sounds too much like the United States

Wilbur: “What about ‘Le?’ Le-Man-berg.”

Tommy: (in chat) le man burg

- Wilbur declares it “L’manberg,” as that’s how the French do it – and the French are quite big on their revolutions. “Lemonburg” is declared a slur in their nation. They will cancel anyone who calls it that

- Tubbo takes off his armor and they discuss “war-winning words.” Wilbur quotes Hamilton and Tommy suspects him of lyric pranking

- Wilbur is the general of L’manberg and Tommy is his right-hand man. Tommy suggests they make the Camarvan an embassy but Wilbur declares it the capital, the state building instead

- Tommy gives Wilbur a stone hoe and Wilbur hoes a single piece of land outside the van before getting an idea. He hoes another piece of land and declares it the “unsullied ground.” Tommy starts singing Hallelujah to it

- Wilbur wants revolutionary skins. He wants a redcoat skin. Their slogan? “L’manberg: We are alarming.”

- There is a hidden clause in Tubbo and Tommy joining L’manberg, and that is that they will have to have houses there. They are citizens

- Tubbo spends a minute spinning around trying to find Wilbur

- They spot Dream nearby and go to speak to him. He says he’s just chilling. Wilbur tells Tommy to shout war words at him

- Dream joins the call and they tell him that “L’manberg” is seceding from Dream SMP. This is their own server now. Dream notes that it seems pretty small, but Wilbur tells him it’s what they do with it that counts

- Dream asks what happens if the rest of the server decides to take over the land. Wilbur says that’s not how servers work. The laws – or “gamerules,” rather, of their server is that PvP is turned off. Wilbur tells him that he’s not whitelisted in their server and has to stay out. All they want is Dream’s acknowledgement – and he’s paying for it

- Wilbur tells him he can set up his own visa and whitelist for Dream SMP and that they don’t need anything outside of these walls. All Tommy and Tubbo need is to move all their items there. Dream is skeptical and asks Tubbo if he’s really doing that

Tubbo: “…HEYYY, so I was born in the Dream SMP, and um…”

Tommy: “Yeah yeah, as was I! I was also born over there so really, we have duo citizenship—”

Wilbur: “—There’s no dual citizenship in our nation. Our nation has zero dual citizenship.”

Tubbo: (crosstalk) “Wait, why are you making it difficult for us?”

Wilbur: “Look at me. Do you boys care about the revolution?”

Tommy: “…Yes.”

Wilbur: “Look, Dream isn’t our enemy. He’s our neighbor. But, we are seceding from his tyrannical rule.”

Tubbo: “What’s ‘tyrannical’ mean?”

Wilbur: (laughs) “Big words. That’s what we use in war. Say it, Tubbo.”

Tubbo: “Tyran-zanical.”

- They argue back and forth about infinite women

- Tommy suggests that they call his land, which is in Dream SMP, an embassy instead. In return, Dream can set up an embassy in L’manberg

- Eret logs on and Dream walks away

- It’s time to make Invisibility potions. Eret joins the call and they fill him in

- Wilbur locks Tommy and Tubbo in the van until they make Invisibility potions and leaves. Neither of them want to play with “the weird neighbor’s child”

- Wilbur explains to Eret that the issue last time was not the drugs, but that the Americans got involved and now they’re making their own server where Americans aren’t whitelisted. Eret already has visa by being a European. 

They’re calling it “Drexit”

- Tommy goes to his base to establish the embassy. Wilbur makes a “scum window” in the wall

- Tommy sees Dream at the embassy, telling him he has to follow the L’manburg rules on the land

- Tommy is allowed to start a “fight club” not just in his embassy, but even in L’manburg itself 

- Wilbur is horrified when he notices that the holy soil has become untilled. He calls Eret over and they re-till it 

- Wilbur declares the four of them the founding fathers. Tommy asks if he is Hamilton 

Tubbo: “Was Abraham Lincoln a founding father?”

Wilbur: “No, he was several hundred years after.”

Tubbo: “Oh.”

Eret: “Just a few hundred years off, you know? Easy mistake to make.”

Tubbo: “Better late than never.”

- Tommy yells at Tubbo for going through his chests and threatens to kill him. Eret and Wilbur start whispering to each other and Tommy and Tubbo become self-aware 

- Tommy notices Alyssa and Dream approaching the embassy

Tommy: “Good news and bad news. I’ve got you a woman. Bad news? She’s American.”

- Wilbur starts laughing so hard he has to stand up and walk away while Tommy and Dream bicker

- Tommy calls Niki on the phone, telling her they need women who aren’t American, but Niki isn’t whitelisted yet. Tommy asks Dream to add her and he declines. Wilbur tells Dream not to add her as it would delegitimize the manhood of L’manburg

Tommy: Too shay

Dream: too shay

- Wilbur, hungry, goes “manfishing,” whispering “salmon” repeatedly as he kills them

- Both Tubbo and Eret have done well. Wilbur tells Tommy he really is the “Hamilton” of their nation and hasn’t done much for them

- The signature meal of L’manburg is salmon

- Tommy and Wilbur start rapping “Non-Stop” from Hamilton the musical

- Wilbur and Tommy walk and talk

Wilbur: “Look around.”

Tommy: “At how happy we are to be alive right now.”

- Wilbur reminds Tommy of how far they’ve come, but Tommy has done very little in terms of setting up. Tommy takes Wilbur to the embassy

- Wilbur changes the sign on Tommy’s house to read “L’Manburg Embassy” and says he feels that Tommy isn’t fully devoted to the cause. Tommy doesn’t want to give up his home and tries suggesting the Power Tower instead

- Wilbur leaves Tommy and returns to L’manburg

Wilbur: “Chat…I think we’ve lost him. I think we’ve lost TommyInnit.”

- Wilbur doesn’t approve of Tommy living with the enemy. Tommy finally agrees to give up his home to be the embassy

- Wilbur tells them it’s time to don the skins

- Tommy notices that the forest outside L’manburg’s borders is on fire. In the distance he spots Alyssa and angrily runs after her

Tommy: “Wilbur! Wilbur! Do I kill the woman?”

Tubbo: “Yes!”

Wilbur: “Yes! Yes, Tommy! You kill the woman!”

- Wilbur and Tubbo start running after as well

Eret: “I thought we use our words! I thought we used our words!”

Tommy: “No.”

Wilbur: “Not in this case. Anyone -- they’ve tried to burn down our forest.”

Tubbo: “We care most about the forest.”

- They are like the Lorax. Alyssa combat logs. When she logs back in, Tommy kills her. Punz immediately shoots Tommy down, outraged that he would kill a woman

- Alyssa calls them and asks for her stuff back, saying she didn’t start the forest fire. Sapnap logs on and arrives with Punz. They start walking back

- The fire is still spreading and Tommy thinks it might be a political attack. Wilbur turns around and tells Tommy to go home. This isn’t a political attack and Tommy is too dangerous, running his mouth and talking too much

Tommy: “Tell me the thing he says in the second song of the musical Hamilton.”

Wilbur: “I think about death so much it feels more like a memory.”

- Wilbur dismisses Tommy, growing more and more annoyed as Tommy keeps on reciting various song lyrics to him

- Sapnap and Dream arrive as Wilbur goes off to get materials. Punz puts out the forest fire and Fundy has just logged on, confused

- Sapnap and Dream take Tubbo hostage in a hole in the ground. Tubbo drops Tommy an Invisibility potion

- Sapnap and Dream kill them as Wilbur arrives, losing them the Invisibility potions

- Wilbur gathers everyone in the Camarvan, a book and quill in hand. It’s time to draft the Declaration:

---

DECLARATION OF INDEPENDANCE

Signed: Wilbur Soot Tubbo_ TommyInnit ERET

Forever the nation of the DreamSMP have cast great sins upon our great land of the hto dog van.

They have robbed us. Imprisoned us. Threatened us. Killed many of our men.

This time of tyranny ends with us

This book declares that the nation which shall be henceforth known as L’Manberg is seperate, emancipated and independant from the nation of DreamSMP.

The union of the masters of men. Together we are one. When in the course of human events it becomes necessary for one to dissolve the bonds which bind us. Disregarding of this truth is nothing short of tyranny.

WE HOLD THESE TRUTHS TO BE SELF EVIDENT. THAT ALL _MEN_ ARE CREATED EQUAL

The right of the people exists above the right of the king. The right of the government and the right of the economy.

From the hto dog van we shall prevail.

Life. Liberty. And the pursuit of victory.

---

- The four sign the Declaration on the roof of the Camarvan, witnessed by Dream, Sapnap, Punz and Fundy watching from afar. Wilbur frames it in the van

- An invisible person arrives in the van to deliver a second book:

---

Declaration Of War

Sometimes you just gotta kill some people sometimes yaknow - Sun Tzu

Dream SMP declares war on la’manburg

JOINT RESOLUTION --PUNZ --SAPNAP --DREAM

---

- Wilbur and Dream exchange books

- Wilbur gives some motivational words to the L’manburgians. This is how they consolidate can power. This is an opportunity

Wilbur: “We do not fight a war of – of the war of greater sticks. We’re not looking for technological advancement, right. The war we’re fighting is gonna be done through guerilla tactics. It’s gonna be done through attrition…”

“And I want you guys on my side.”

---

UPCOMING ANNIVERSARY DATES:

July 31: Fundy becomes Wilbur’s son

August 2: Doomsday

August 3: Jack Manifold joins the server

August 6: Niki joins the server

August 9: Wilbur, Tommy and Tubbo create a drug park

[villainsandvictimsalliance]

Omg do you have more cute hcs with the lov and class1a/1b

I dont care how long or short it is, I ABSOLUTELY LOVE READING THEM 💕💕💕💕💖 😊😊

Theyre so comforting <333

YES I HAVE A BUNCH. COME TAKE IT ALL.

Tomura is an expert in video games, right? Well, he's currently working from afar with Hatsume and Melissa to create a VR system to help the kids at UA train.

Everything because the first thing he did when meeting Nezu was telling him the UA system sucked.

No more public exposure, no more simple barriers keeping away the villains from the kids, no more pushing them to dangerous places with no proper supervision.

The new job of the League when it comes to working is the UA is keeping the place as safe as possible and helping the kids recover from the trauma of the war.

Dabi doesn't like working directly with the kids, so his job consist on patrolling around the UA. In case a crisis is reported, he's the first at the place and his job is to keep the crisis on minimum 'til the teachers arrive.

The funniest part is the type of crisis he has solved so far. They include:

Helping people with their crushes because they tried to confess and caused an accident. (Dabi has the fun of his life with it, being honest).

Accidents in the kitchen. (No much he can do except using Shoto as a way of taking down the flames).

Stupid fights (He is banned from helping in those since he cheered for Shoto when he was fistfighting Iida for saying something to Midoriya).

And his favorite: keeping Mineta at bay. Dabi is not the type of gentleman that defends women constantly, because he just doesn't care about helping anyone. But Mineta is a type of gross he would have incinerate in the streets if he was a man and not a kid. So instead, he just walks from a safe distance and keeps scaring the kid when he's about to annoy one of the girls.

Tomura always find Dabi is the halls complaining about the no smoking rule

They make fun of each other a little until they realize they should be working and there are kids staring at them.

Class 1-A talks about Dabi like the older brother who was in jail.

Oh, but Dabi told me...

They are actually well informed about a bunch of stuff and they know how to take care of street criminals better now.

Ah, but they're also the ones who check if he is not drinking too much, if he's having proper rest, if his burns and staples are taken care of, if he's not too anxious or depressed, if hes' taking his meds...

If he's not following one of those, they call Natsuo. Oh man, Natsuo has become the emergency contact of half the League somehow. Maybe because he has a golden heart or maybe because they all are scared of Fuyumi by some weird reason.

Shoto is the other emergency contact when it comes to Dabi, hmmm, but sometimes he just follows Dabi bad example and well.

Dabi is the anti-Santa. He's gonna give you that one gift you wanted but everyone said no because it's dangerous.

"Dabi, I'm trying to make a safer space for the kids" , "Tomura, I'm trying to make them relax".

After getting fired twice by Aizawa, Dabi is finally behaving.

This has nothing to do with the fact that he's finally dating Tomura tho.

WHICH TAKE US TO: SPINNER, THE BROTHER WHO ACTUALLY ACKNOWLEDGES HIS RESPONSIBILITIES.

Spinner works in the same thing as Dabi, but he's the reliable one.

Getting Uraraka down when she starts floating on her sleep, calming people down when they're having anxiety attacks, noting when someone is having a bad day and requesting the teachers to let the person rest...

Spinner is the one actually helping them with their ptsd. He makes everything so easy and pleasant. It's like they're just kids taking classes and having fun.

Besides, class 1-B knows he is amazing at cuddling and people love his hugs. Just by seeing Spinner, they cheer up.

He and Shinso are responsible for the purple hair tendency among the kids of General Studies. Their heroes.

He's also the one who helps the kids with their training sessions when they need a partner but there's no one else to help them.

He became one of the official bus drivers of the school after taking some lessons and requesting a license.

He sings with them while they travel, he always has snacks in case someone is hungry and he has pills in case someone is motion sick. Well, a bunch of pills since Dabi is always motion sick.

He had a crush on Tomura but he realized it was more platonic than anything.

Now now, Tomura and Spinner have matching gamer tattoos that said Player #1 and Player #2. Dumbasses in action.

If Dabi is the problematic uncle and Spinner is the responsible uncle...

That leave us with: Compress the artistic dad and Kurogiri the dad who's always working far away but you can totally rely on.

THE VIDEO CALLS WITH KUROGIRI AND COMPRESS ARE SO CUTE.

101 Flirting with Compress.

All the kids in all courses have a personalized mask. Compress is addicted to creating them.

His beautiful, mischievous kids that once, trying to distract him, stole his prosthesis and kept it going around the school from room to room.

Turns out it was a surprise party, but man if it was fun because Compress pretended the whole time he was a pirate looking for his long buried treasure.

HE GOT A PARROT AND HE NAMED HIM RED BEAK.

Bakugo almost exploded the whole place after hearing such a ridiculous name.

Well, Red Beak loves making fun of Bakugo, repeating everything he says.

RED BEAK AND KIRISHIMA ARE BESTIES. YES YES.

The Bakusquad would kill for Red Beak.

Sero is teaching him Spanish, Mina is teaching him to dance, Denki is teaching him bad jokes and Jirou is teaching him to sing.

Tokoyami is the official protector of Red Beak. Koda is the translator.

On the other hand, Kurogiri always gives them some honey and other things when he visits the school.

He congratulates them on their achievements, he hears them for hours talking about their adventures and he is the old friend you call when it's 3am, you're feeling bad but you don't want to worry no one else.

If you want to solve a problem, call Kurogiri. He's gonna give you the clues but let you solve it yourself.

The award for the dad with more patience goes to: KUROGIRI.

If you really really need to run away from some hours, he can use his quirk to rescue you and he would prepare some tea for you, wrap you in a soft sweater and walk with you through his yard. You can pick flowers or fruit with him until you calm down. Or you can watch old movies with him. Or bake. Being with him is like floating around in the sky, no worries, just clouds and stars and soft noises and lights.

The school always knows when it happens and they are okay with it. Mostly. Just don't do it too much.

Toga is another good option if you need to talk but you don't know with who.

She's actually a great listener and an expert on making things look less stressing than they are. You see, she pays attention at your triggers and moods and if she sees something is bothering the students, she finds a way to distract them immediately, while letting the teachers deal with the problem.

Ah, the queen of gossip.

If you want to know something about someone you need to pay the prize, tho. And she won't even tell you if she considers the secret must be guarded 'til the grave.

She's the one who takes the messages to the parents because she's fast, can hide at plain sight and doesn't put them in danger.

You never know where Toga is. She someone studies like the rest of them, but she's like, selected to secret missions. She has a lot of info but they all trust her somehow.

Maybe is the fact that she would kill and take a stab for you. And that she would never put Deku or Ochaco in danger. Or her family.

She's also Mineta's biggest nightmare.

Try sexualizing the girl and win a terrifying week, courtesy of Toga Himiko.

She won't let you sleep, she won't let you eat, you're gonna wish you were never born. She can make you feel as sexualized, observed and stalked as you make the girls feel. Oh, she's gonna show you exactly how it feels to be a girl.

Also don't sexualize the boys around her either. Stabby queen is not gentle to those who are not gentle with her friends. Period.

Friendly reminder: 0 stabbing accidents since she started studying at UA.

BECAUSE THEY GAVE HER A RUBBER KNIFE.

And finally, the Tomura headcanons.

He's always falling asleep on odd places. The kids have a new name called "let's put a blanket on Tomura".

And then they call Dabi or Spinner to take him somewhere more comfortable.

He's working so hard. He's really working so hard on redeeming himself, even when everyone has already forgiven him. But he has this fear of being a failure or being too much...

The kids are also well trained on how to help him through his anxiety or panic attacks. Even more, some of them have always a pair of gloves in them just in case.

Momo is more than happy to make him more.

It's kinda sad how much he's suffering even now. That's way they all do their best to let him know his doing great.

Kisses in the cheek, compliments on how he's looking, new products to his hair and skin, playing the games he recommends, telling how badass he is when he trains them...

Somehow being around Tomura has help them realize how important is communicating stuff. They all are way healthier now.

Tomura is just... So sincere. He's been instructed to share his thoughts, because he had a problem before with communicating properly. That means he used to forget saying certain information because it was obvious to him, but not to others.

He doesn't mean to hurt people. He's just saying what he thinks. Which also means he offends a bunch of people not by accident. And he doesn't apologize because he is just doing what he's been told.

Midoriya and Shigaraki's discussions are epic. And so are their fights. Yes, they fight like siblings. Which is crazy funny because they are like "friendly reminder you tried to KILL ME" and "WELL YOU DESERVED THAT FOR BEING A DICK".

They've finally found out that you can complain to him or get a little violent and he's not gonna even blink, just hear you out.

It was because Bakugo got a little violent with him and yeah, he just stared back waiting.

You can't imagine Dabi's anger when Tomura told him about Kotaro. He was frustrated because at least Tomura did step on Endeavor and humiliated him for life, but him? He is angry with a man that's dead and gone.

Okay no, the whole League is angry about the things that has happened to the whole League. That's the thing with finally being able to relax and feel. It all comes back in a flood.

They have prohibited being around school when the parents visit. Specially because they are no very civil to shitty parents.

And if a kid confess about having shitty parents, oh boy. The League is gonna BE PISSED.

The UA is still a total chaos, but now in the right ways. They have more normal problems, they don't have to win war and kill evil lords, they complain about not having money to go out and forgetting their homework. And the ex-villians can complain about life being boring a needing more action.

That's a good thing. That means they all are healing, together.

They're gonna be fine.

[365days365movies]

Musical December II: The King and I - Recap: Part Two

So, what’s the actual story of The King and I?

Well, first things first, let’s talk about Anna. After all, she wrote the original book, right? Anna Leonowens was born in India in 1831. This was a part of her origin that she regularly hid, claiming instead to have been born in Wales. She was also probably mixed, through her maternal grandmother. That’s unverified, though. In any case, Anna’s father was a hotel manager who died real quick, and she lived with her mother and siblings in abject poverty in India. Again, she would deny this part of her past.

Her mother remarried shortly after her birth, and her stepfather was extremely abusive towards her. This abuse may have ranged from emotional to sexual, but there are conflicting reports on that front. In any case, Anna got the fuck out of there at 14, and eventually met her future husband, Tom Leon Owen. Rather than being a British officer like she claimed (and as is said in the book and musical), he was a fairly dull man, with far less intellect than the well-read Anna. After several miscarriages, the two had two children...and no money. And then Tom died in Singapore.

Yeah, Anna’s now living with her kids in Singapore, with no money, no support, and no luck whatsoever. She also didn’t really talk to British people much, possibly because of her mixed-race status. Instead, she spent her time with American ex-pats, and that would set the stage for her post-Thailand life. She was a huge fan of abolition, and she approved of both women’s rights and the abolishment of slavery. So, yeah, accurate there.

Then, after she’d taken up a job as an English tutor, a friend of Anna’s informed her of an opportunity in Siam as a tutor. She took it, and went with her son Louis to Thailand, calling herself Ann Leonowens and reinventing her backstory entirely to get the job. She claimed she was from England (nope), was the widow of a war veteran and officer (noperino), and was three years younger. Weird choice there, but OK. And at this point, you might have noticed something.

Fitting, since the stage is now set for Anna’s visit to the court. But I’ll save that for the Review section. See, Anna’s account of Mongkut is apparently so very inaccurate, the book and all adaptations of it are and always have been banned in Thailand. Whoof. Fuckin’ whoof, man.

So, for now, let’s go back to the fictional Thailand with Part Two of this Recap! Part One is right here!

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap: Part Two

Having been moved by Thiang’s song about abusive relationships, Anna reluctantly goes to speak with Mongkut. When she shows up, he assumed she’s there to apologize, and she just fuckin’ goes with it. With very little prodding, Anna gets him to tell her about the message from England, and of his false reputation as a barbarian.

He backhandedly asks Anna for advice, asking her instead what she guesses he will do. And she tells him that she THINKS he would invite the incoming emissaries to a banquet, served in the European style. After all, the European style is...civilized...guuuuuuh. Yeah, it’s the whole “cultures that aren’t British aren’t culture” shit from this time period. Colonizing, imperialist, racism, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. You get the idea.

Mongkut agrees to this, and sets out to prepare a banquet and performance for the visiting British ambassadors. And in return, after another backhanded set of insults towards Anna during a prayer to Buddha, he promises her and her son a house, as they’d originally agreed. And with that, the preparations are made.

One week later, the kingdom is all prepped for the visit of ambassadors Sir John Hay (Alan Mowbray) and Sir. Edward Ramsay (Geoffrey Toone). The latter is and old friend and old flame of Anna’s, and is thirsty as hell for her. That fact makes Mongkut extremely jealous immediately, but they mostly get past it as the banquet begins. 

While a group of guys do Muay Thai outside, the banquet soon turns into the performance of the night, that being a Thai ballet version of Uncle Tom’s Cabin. Yes, we’re doing this. As fucking weird as this idea is, it’s also a genuinely good performance (“The Small House of Uncle Thomas”), as well as being an interesting interpretation of an American story through the eyes of a completely different culture. And then, consider that this cultural depiction is actually the depiction of Thai theatre from an American perspective, and that’s even more interesting. I’d love to see a version of this that was made by a Thai director. Odds are SUPER high that that won’t ever happen, but a dude can dream.

But Tuptim uses this to pass along her political message: FUCKING LET ME GO HOME! Yeah, she basically says that directly to him at one point, which pisses him off. What’s made worse is the fact that the story ends in the death of the slave owner, which is obviously an allegory for Mongkut himself. Yeah, Tuptim might’ve fucked up there, real talk. The performance ends, everybody but Mongkut claps, and Tuptim gets the FUCK OUT OF THERE! The entire performance was an excuse for Lun Tha to get her out of the palace. Clever, I gotta say. After the banquet, Anna goes to speak with him, and shares her appreciation for the night and for Mongkut’s efforts. He, in turn, shows his appreciation with a beautiful jeweled ring. Before they retire for the night, he tells Anna that an albino elephant has been born, and this is seen as a good omen for the future.

However, he’s still upset about the play and Tuptim. He reveals that she can’t be found, which only somewhat surprises Anna. She tells him that she was unhappy, and that she was little more to him than an object or a prize. And yeah, he doubles down on that shit. What follows is his personal philosophy, which is...I mean, dude owns a harem of women, it’s exactly what you think it is (“Song of the King”). Anna counters with the traditions of the English. And of course, this results in the other most famous song from this musical: “Shall We Dance?”.

It is a lovely song, a lovely dance, and a lovely scene.

And it’s completely destroyed by what happens next. The Kralahome bursts in, with the news that Tuptim’s been found. They drag her in, under accusation of infidelity with Lun Tha. The punishment is whipping, much to Anna’s horror. But goddammit, the king of Siam will NOT be cuckolded in his own castle! HE WILL NOT BE A BETA CUCK!

Anna stands there, resolute in her opposition, and accusing Mongkut of have no love in his heart, and of being the barbarian the English believe him to be. And with that...he leaves just before he’s about to whip her. An advisor comes in right afterwards to reveal that Lun Tha is dead, and the Kralahome tells Anna that her stupid compassion has destroyed Mongkut. She runs away in tears, planning on taking the next boat out of there.

Weeks later, as her belongings are packed, and as she plans on leaving the kingdom, she reminisces on her good times there. In the process, Thiang and the Prince arrive to tell Anna that Mongkut is suddenly and unexpectedly dying. Apparently, he has a broken heart from the events of that night, and it’s so fucking bad that he’s literally dying? Fuck, I guess the doctors have just given up!

Upon hearing of Anna’s planned departure, he wrote a letter to her under great duress. She reads it and cries, upon realizing that the King really did respect her greatly. Bygones are bygones, and Anna goes to visit the ailing Mongkut. On his deathbed (and still complaining about relative head height), he gives back to her the ring she’d rejected after the whipping incident.

His numerous children are brought in to the room, and one of them begs Anna to stay in a very heartfelt plea. She agrees, for the sake of the children, and Mongkut gives her a raise. Also, damn, dude doesn’t seem like he’s dying. Just tired and kinda pissed. Still, he officially passes on his title to the Crown Prince, who makes a few proclamations. One, fireworks and boat races for New Years’. Priorities, kid, you’ve got them right. Secondly, et cetera, he ends the custom of bowing to a king.

And with that, Mongkut just...dies (“Finale”). And the movie ends.

Well...damn. See you in the Review!

[sleepylixie]

Dagger's Smile

\ 구미호/Gumiho is a Korean folk legend of a nine-tailed fox. It is said to have magical shapeshifting abilities, a knack for mischief and an almost seductive nature in some legends. The Korean gumiho is believed to have similar characteristics to the Chinese huli jing and Japanese kitsune.//

Gumiho-King! Chan X Gumiho! Fem Reader

1.4k words, Fluff/Action, Beware of: inexplicit violence.

Fantasy AU, Supernatural! SKZ, Gumiho! Chan from this fic from the In Umbra Universe! (Can be read individually, of course :D)​

Request? : Yes!!

A/N: Hello my favourite bean! Thank you so much for requesting this fic, it really gave me a lot of perspective and inspiration to expand In Umbra even more!!! I hope you enjoy this lil offering, do let me know what you think!!

Drop me an ask! || Masterlist

People bowed low to Chan wherever he went-too low. He’d tried hard to get them to stop but to no avail. Especially after his decisions that protected them in the Faelight war, Chan had been hailed as a god-king, a hero of heroes, the saviour of Gumiho-kind. But he only did what they had crowned him to do. Why was he being celebrated this way? Except for her. Only her. 

She’d meet his eye, the only person standing upright in a wave of people bowing at the waist. She’d always give him that smirk, the cheeky smirk he’d grown to be amused by, and slightly incline her head. Her hair would always fall into her eyes at the action and the second he blinked, she’d be gone. Despite his visits to the marketplace of Liska, the gumiho capital becoming a rare occurrence, Chan had always kept an eye out amongst his people for a quick sight of her smile. There was something wild about her; warm like a wildfire- only seconds away from sparking mischief and disaster. He wanted to meet her someday, talk to her, find out more behind that intriguing smile. 

//

“You’re a girl, there’s only so much you can do.” A snarl worked its way up to your throat, wild and unrestrained. The twin daggers at your waist were itching to be thrown but you withheld the urge, only levelling a glare at your opponent- an older man, eyes narrowed in disdain. He looked positively fiendish, his skin stretching thinly over his skull, a cheap-looking sword held in a death-grip in one hand. “You’re just scared of getting beaten by a girl.” You sneered, baring your teeth- your elongated canines winked at the man, razor-sharp and lethal. You should rip his guts out of his body for his behaviour. You cocked your head, a provoking smirk dancing across your lips. “I’m right, aren’t I? Coward.”

Predictably, the man responded with a roar of his own, charging towards you. Rolling your eyes infinitesimally, you dodged the first swipe before nimbly getting under his guard, twisting his non-dominant arm behind him. He exclaimed in a blind rage, trying to swipe at you with his blame. Quickly kicking the back of his knee, you clubbed the man’s dominant hand with the handle of one of your daggers, triggering a yell of pain and dropping his sword. Without missing a beat, you kicked him in the back of the head, pushing him onto the dusty ground. “Next time, pick on people your own size,” you growled at him, kicking him once more for good measure. Ignoring the now groaning man, you turned around and marched towards the old woman who was huddled against the tree, gently helping her stand up. “I hope you’re not too hurt, ma’am,” you mumbled softly, smiling politely at the old lady. Her wispy silver hair floated across her face as she stood up straight. She smiled back at you thankfully, unconcerned by your slightly disheveled appearance- despite being dressed in the trappings of a proper young lady, you had an armored belt at your waist and your hair had been reduced to its usual mess. “Thank you, child.” “Why was he bothering you?” You asked, leading her back to the beaten track that led lack to Liska, your home. You’d been out picking wildflowers from amongst the trees on either side of the track so you could make flower crowns for the maids when you’d stumbled into the vile man picking on the poor old lady- your training had instantly kicked in. Growing up as the oldest free-spirited daughter of a well-off gumiho household, you were often faced with the unfortunate sexism that ran rampant in your city. You were a spark of flame, all quicksilver temper and righteous outspoken rage, the crown jewel of your household. Your father, one of the generals in the army, had no qualms in teaching you everything you knew, from basic swordsmanship and archery, even going as far as to gift you your precious obsidian daggers.  Even though all gumiho were born with magic, you loved the thrill of a fight. “He stole my son’s magic.” A spark of rage raced across your system. Stealing a gumiho’s magic could leave the victim dead to the world, their body lost without a soul to anchor. The new king had placed stringent bans on it, pronouncing it a crime below that of lowlife scum. And yet… A choking sound next to you had you reeling back in surprise, a scream ripping from your throat at the sight of the old lady- her hands scrabbling at her neck as she was lifted off the ground, back arching in pain. It took you a split second to turn frantically in the same direction you came and you saw him- the bastardly man from earlier had his arm out, clearly aiming to hurt or kill the poor lady. Your temper swirled inside you, whetted instantly to a deadly edge and your body moved instantly, acting on reflex. Before he could try anything to hurt you, you lunged towards him, your daggers already in your hands-

And his hand was cut clean off his body, an unearthly wail leaving the man as he fell to his knees, clutching his stub of a wrist. An obsidian dagger almost twin to your own was stuck in a nearby tree, still vibrating from the force of the throw. Who’d thrown a dagger with such deadly accuracy that they’d managed to slice through skin and bone? You got your answer when a figure stepped into the soft afternoon light- your eyes widened. You’d recognise that face anywhere- the handsome sharp nose, the clean planes of skin marred by a scar down one eye. The King. // You sat outside the physician’s quarters- the royal physician’s quarters, watching the afternoon light fade into evening. The palace sat on the ledge of one of the hills that overlooked the valley Liska was built on, making for a picturesque sunset. The old lady you (and the King) had saved was not in danger, thankfully; she’d only sustained light bruises to her neck. You let out a sigh, your hands thumbing the daggers at your belt as your thoughts began racing. The King had asked you to accompany him to the palace, so you could stay with the lady until she was treated. Why had he asked for you? Was he unamused by your refusal to bow to him in the marketplace every time he visited? He didn’t seem comfortable with everybody bowing that low around him, it didn’t feel right to bow like that!! Why did you have to send him an impertinent smile every time? What were you thinking?! Your fingers tapped a nervous beat on your dagger’s scabbard. What should you do? Pretend you didn’t know what he was talking about? Maybe you could- “Y/N, yes?” You scrambled to your feet at the sound of the King’s voice, smooth and authoritative but not too loud. Dropping into a curtsy, you tucked a lock of hair behind your ear- curses for forgetting to fix your hair before an meeting the King. “Yes, Your Majesty.” You said quietly, unsure of looking him in the eye. “Why don’t you look me in the eye?” He sounded amused, warm- at odds with his intimidating aura. “You didn’t mind staring me down in the marketplace.” A rare prickling feeling heated up your neck; why wouldn’t the Mother Goddess choose this moment to remove you from this mortal plane? He’d remembered you- what were you to do? Shoring up what was left of the shreds of your bravado, you raised your head, smiling the same smile that you’d tossed at him all those times before. “You sound like you missed my pretty smiles, Your Majesty.” To your utter surprise, the King’s ears turned red instantly, betraying how flustered he was at your response despite the cool mask he had on- oh. The said mask melted into a shy smile, soft lips spreading wide until his dimples showed. “I’d be lying if I disagreed, darling,” Your eyes widened. Did he just- “And please, call me Chan.” // Taglist: @aliceu​ @rebecca-noona​ @decembermoonskz​ @straykidsownmysoul​ @malai-barfi​ @fylithia​ @soya-zz​ @stellarmonsterr​ (DM or drop me an ask to be added to my taglist!)

Network Tags: @inkidz​ @stayracha-net​ @districtninewriters​ @starryktown DO LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!!- Elliana

[starry-sky-stuff]

Word Find Tag

Thanks for the tag @zmlorenz. My words were amble, art, avid, alarm, and aware

Amble:

A Flame in the Forest:

Vladimir ambled up the path, stopping to lean casually against the fence beside her. He slipped his hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out a flask, handing it over to her. Mariya flicked the lid open and sniffed the contents.

“Vodka. How’d you get that?”

Alcohol had been banned at the start of the war, except for religious and cultural practices. Although, that did not extend to leaving it as an offering to the ancestors. Apparently the government didn’t trust people not to steal it from the graves.

“The soldiers at the barracks still like their alcohol, despite what the Tsar says. I called in a favour.”

“A favour?” Mariya raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t blackmail someone did you?”

“Always thinking the worst of me.”

In Want of a Wife:

Cecily’s eyes narrowed. “If I had my fan I’d swat you on the nose like a naughty pup.”

“Do you have something in particular against my nose?”

“It’s a perfectly adequate nose.”

“And what of the Duke’s nose?”

“I’ve never noticed his nose.”

What a strange thing to ask? Noses were not exactly a feature that drew one’s eyes, unless it was a particularly hideous looking one. And she certainly hadn’t inspected Lord Pemberton’s face to the degree that Laurence believed she had.

“Speak of the devil,” Laurence muttered as Lord Pemberton ambled towards them.

Art:

In Want of a Wife:

If it wasn’t so unladylike, Cecily was sure her mother would have rolled her eyes at her husband. But Lady Mary was a lady to the bone despite having been born an American, and had perfected the art of suffering in silence. She merely closed her mouth, took her husband’s arm, and led them to the carriage.

Aware:

In Want of a Wife:

“You are being decidedly…cool towards me,” she explained. “You have not teased me once all night.”

“I thought you didn’t like me teasing you?”

“Yes, but is most unnatural for you to be so courteous. You are not ill, are you?”

Laurence chuckled. “No, I am in perfect health. I am aware that I have treated you as if we were still children, and have been apprised of the inappropriateness of such behaviour. I promise I shall treat you as the lady you are and with all the courtesy you deserve.”

But I don’t want that, she thought to herself. From any other man, yes, but not Laurence. Courtesy was how you treated women you didn’t know all that well. Laurence had never treated her like a stranger.

Tagging: @drippingmoon, @sleepy-night-child, @inkovert

Your words are soft, night, red, bone, and scar

[the-peachpit]

Sons Of A Crow

DSMP AU: Wilbur, Tommyinnit, Technoblade are siblings with an absent Father

Warning: Major Character Death

Summary: Philza left to defend L'manburg, Technoblade left to bring him home, Wilbur stayed and watched Tommy grow on his own. Too young to watch over himself and suddenly watching the struggles of others something broke inside Wilbur. his family reunion wasn't what he wanted, but maybe- what they all needed.

In this story L'manburg was a city that always existed and was ready to erupt without the help of Wilbur or Tommy.

Also consider following me on Twitter for more insights on stories! @Thepeachpit_

Orange leaves danced through the sky when Wilbur said goodbye to his father watching his back become a silhouette against the sun. It was fall, a crisp chill in the air when Tommy ran from the top of the stairs his little yellow wings puffed behind him as he missed a step tumbling down. Wilbur turned his face fell watching Tommy scramble to stand ignoring the blood on his knee and hands. Wilbur wrapped a scarf around Tommy’s neck as he screamed for his dad to come back in shorts and a t-shirt. Wilbur could see his own breath as he held Tommy down from trying to fly telling him it was alright.

“Why is he leaving!” Tommy sobbed, “I told him I’d learn how to fly! I’d learn to fly to keep him here! I can do it!”

Wilbur hugged his brother closer whispering into his wheat-colored hair, “Please, Tommy it’s not your fault.”

“It’s everyone else’s,” A voice growled.

Sun beamed through the high windows of the wooden home, but Techno stood in the shadow that day. Sulking, tricking himself into thinking Wilbur couldn’t see his tears. Wilbur would never say a word about the way Techno’s mouth twitched and his shoulders shook. Being the oldest Wilbur knew Techno would carry too much on his shoulders, but he was no father figure. He was no unfeeling weapon, as much as he pretended. Their father had rescued Techno from an auction, and Techno repaid that kindness by being his shadow. Learning everything their father had to offer. A piglin with the dream to be equal to men. Wilbur couldn’t imagine what Techno thought watching their father spread his wings without him.

The day dragged on as Wilbur sat with Tommy on the couch drilling it into the young boy’s skull it wasn’t his fault their father left- he had to. Their father’s situation was delicate. He wasn’t just a crow hybrid but a godly being of sorts, though he never advertised it. Their father had taken Wilbur and Techno to his shrine when they were a little older than Tommy. People worshiped him when they were in need. He looked after those who needed protecting. He wasn’t born an immortal god but was given the right after giving so much of himself to the world that the universe had to reward him. An immortal life with the curse of mortal children with the universe herself. Now people expected him to fight in the war of L’manburg a nation that had been teetering on the edge of revolution for years. Philza would be the hammer ending it all. Wilbur shifted his white wings when Techno came in the whites of his eyes red, his cheeks puffy. Wilbur wouldn’t utter a word.

Taking on the role of a caretaker wasn’t unusual to Wilbur having done it before even when their father was home. Before Tommy was born. Growing up with a piglin brother who still had basic lessons to learn in over world customs was fun but came with challenges. Especially when Techno started learning the art of the blade. Wilbur was tasked with keeping his brother from scrapping with every kid who laid eyes on him with a sneer.

Tommy had finally fallen asleep to something on TV and Wilbur had noticed Techno slip out hours ago. Walking out onto the back porch Wilbur watched his half piglin brother whack at dummies with an axe. His blows were messy- unusual for the calm and collected fighting state his brother usually took on. With tight moves and precision.

“You want to talk about it?” Wilbur sat himself on the stairs.

“Not really,” Techno huffed.

Wilbur leaned back on his palms, “You can’t keep it in forever, better to get it out now right?” he looked up at the sky, it had gotten cloudy.

“Bet I can,” Techno landed another blow.

Wilbur sighed, “Come on.”

Techno spun around his long pink ponytail lifting from his shoulders, “What the fuck do you want me to say Wil? Philza just left us here with no warning, who knows how god damn long he’ll be gone. L’manburg’s been fighting itself for years now. Suddenly he has to do crowd control.”

“If you keep swearing like that Tommy is going to get a sailors mouth,” Wilbur smirked.

Techno rolled his eyes, “You remember what he was like after the last war he was called to don’t you? Swearing is the least of Tommy’s worries.”

How could Wilbur forget, the man who came back was not their father. He was cold, distant, quick with a fist. Techno scrapped with their father a lot after he came home, sometimes protecting Wilbur, sometimes Tommy who was too young to remember the in-house violence. Too young to know to keep away from his own dad. Wilbur never blamed Philza he had seen a travesty; he’d taken lives and there’s no coming back from that casually. To return to a family after finding blood on your hands couldn’t be easy. The thought of that happening to Technoblade haunted Wilbur, to see his brother’s eyes look empty and dazed. He hopped Philza would never let Techno join him, as much as Wilbur knew that would tear Technoblade apart.

“Maybe this time will be different,” Wilbur sighed watching the clouds roll in.

Within the first week Tommy’s golden feathers were scattered around the house. Wilbur found a few in the bathroom at first thinking nothing of it. Then more popped up in the kitchen, living room, and a whole pile on the front porch. Wilbur had always respected his brother’s privacy, but out of pure panic he burst into Tommy’s room without knocking watching as Tommy pulled a handful of feathers from his wings. Wide blue eyes filled to the brim with tears starred at Wil-pleading. Scooping Tommy into his arms Wilbur tore down the stairs yelling for Techno.

It was noon on a chilly fall day a storm was rolling in the thunder rumbling deeply as it shook the old house. Wilbur was clutching Tommy’s hands as the boy sniffled at each tug of the bandage Techno wrapped around the bald spots. Pouring oil to heal and hopefully deter Tommy from plucking anymore.

“He’s stressed out,” Wilbur sighed finally feeling like he could breathe.

“Really,” Techno said sarcastically.

Wilbur ran his hand through his brown wavy hair-it was getting long- “I’m serious what are we going to do?”

Techno shrugged, “Our best I guess?”

Wilbur was already doing his best.

After plucking his feathers and being banned from flying on Dr, Techno’s orders Wilbur made sure to never let Tommy leave his sight in fear of his depression getting worse. If the wings were the worst of it Wilbur was sure he could deal, but things could always get worse. The curse of the Crow god hung heavy on the odd family. Weeks passed with the weather oddly warmer for the middle of fall. The trio was outside regularly soaking up the sun or hiking into town casually speaking with others. Techno hated the small talk, but Wilbur insisted it was for Tommy’s sake, keep him socialized. He reminded Techno how important it was to socialize him and was met with a swift whack to the back of the head. Ignoring every bit of war talk they could. It finally felt like it was all stabilizing- like they could hold out until Philza came back.

“You know we just got some new candy in I thought you’d like to try,” A girl smiled coming out from the back of the grocery store.

“Hell yea!” Tommy pumped his fist in the air.

“You’re spoiling him Niki,” Wilbur shook his head putting his groceries on the counter.

“I got some new books too,” Niki put three books on the counter, “Free of charge of course, “She winked.”

A month ago, Wilbur had resented Niki’s kindness as if they couldn’t care if themselves without their father. He hated thinking she was right. With time he realized that wasn’t it at all. Niki was genuinely kind, enjoying the company of the brothers. She wasn’t full of sympathy, but compassion. Giving where she could, but never overly so.

“What, nothing for me?” Technoblade put on a show of pouting.

“Sorry,” Niki shrugged, “My boss still thinks weapons in a general store is a bad idea.”

Techno shook his head, “He’s missing a whole customer base.”

“Maybe I can-“ Niki was cut off as a crowd gathered around the TV in the corner of the store.

Coming from the back the store’s owner turned up the volume on the news broadcast. It was a warm fall when the footage of fires ablaze in homes that viewers were assured had been abandoned was shown to the public. People whispered and gasped, but no one saw him-except Wilbur. A shadow in the corner of the screen wings close to his body, his stance tight, sword sheathed at his side-the Crow in all of his glory. Was that his handy work? He wouldn’t. L’manburg was in flames. Something silently snapped in Wilbur that day, watching his father do nothing as a city burned to the ground. Seeing that scene alone may have started the spiral but knowing Philza watched over the pyres of family’s- Wilbur grabbed the groceries rushing out of the store.

He didn’t speak to his brothers the whole walk home. It had gotten chillier.

Winter dropped two snowstorms back-to-back, during the second Wilbur picked up smoking to keep himself warm. The clouds that escaped from his lips as he sat under a hazy sky while Tommy played in the snow were thick. He watched the smoke curl and join the sky. It started with a smoke outside int eh morning and night. His hands with nothing more to do just kept lighting until he found himself at a pack a day. There was a numb comfort as he lit a second cigarette while Tommy rolled snow into a ball. His mind felt distracted, distant floating away with the smoke. His chest felt lighter, like the weight he’d been carrying found its peace-it never lasted long enough.

“Come on Tommy,” Wilbur put out his cigarette butt in the snow, “It’s cold out here,” He stretched out his wings, “Techno has a nice fire going inside.”

Rolling his eyes Tommy groaned, “Fiiiine,” he pouted his golden wings puffed behind him.

He’d healed perfectly and Wilbur had taken Tommy out for flying lessons a few times over the fall, but winter was hard for flying. The weather changed fast and the cold hurt inexperienced wings. Wilbur had been so happy there was no permanent damage he cried to himself in his room, not unusual, but this was different. He was so happy.

“Wilbur,” Tommy rolled on the floor by the fire, “Can you make hot chocolate?”

“Sure thing,” Wilbur smiled heading into the kitchen.

Techno stomped in trying to get the snow off his boots. Wood stacked under his arm.

“Well, we won’t freeze to death.” Wilbur joked pulling out a small pot.

“You’re welcome,” Technoblade stuck his tongue out.

A knock on the door stopped Wilbur’s quip dead in his throat. A knock at the door. Their door in the middle of nowhere. They weren’t expecting anyone. Would he have knocked after all this time? Wilbur shared a glance with Technoblade who was holding his breath.

The sound of the door creaking open sent Wilbur to the front entrance.

“Tommy, dude you can’t just open the door for anyone,” Wilbur scolded him.

“Oh, come on Wilbur,” Tommy rolled his eyes.

Standing in the doorway was a familiar face in a light blue hoodie. The man would have almost disappeared amongst the snowy landscape if not for his tan complexation.

“Hey Skeppy, what brings you out here?” Wilbur asked the ice mage.

“Mail believe it or not,” Skeppy held out a disheveled letter, “Niki said you guys don’t go to the store during bad weather and asked me to deliver it.”

“Thanks,” Wilbur nodded, “Would you like to come in and warm up?”

Skeppy shook his head, “This weather is my natural element I am as comfortable as can be,” He assured him, “Plus Bad is expecting me back.”

Wilbur chuckled, “Have fun in the nether, don’t melt.”

“Ha-ha,” Skeppy rolled his eyes waving goodbye.

Closing the door Wilbur looked at the letter in his shaking hands. It was tattered and must have had a long journey to his cold fingers. Walking back into the kitchen where Tommy and techno stood Wil looked between his brothers unsure what to say. Opening his mouth, he wished he had a cigarette to give him an excuse to stay silent. There was no other choice as he slowly slipped a finger unto the fold of the yellowed envelope ripping it open. Pulling out the letter Wilbur gasped.

“Who is it from,” An urgency in techno’s voice.

“Dad,” Wilbur whispered his dark eyes scanned the letter again, “He says he’s coming home soon.”

“Let me see,” Techno ripped the letter from Wilbur’s grasp, “Holy fuck,” he breathed out.

“Dads coming home!’ Tommy threw his hands up in the air running around the house.

Spirits were high as the sun shone over glittering snow.']

The letter hadn’t stated when their father would be back, just soon. The days rolled like molasse with everyone especially Tommy, checking the windows to catch a glimpse of their father landing. The days and nights were all becoming bitterly cold, and the thought of delayed travel started to creep into Wilbur’s mind. To clear it when cigarettes weren’t enough, he snuck out at the dead of night through his window. The air was brisk, it shook him to his bones. Extending his wings with a powerful downward thrust Wilbur took to the starry skies. The wind hurt his wings-burned them with frost, but Wilbur had never felt so alive as his lungs froze inside. He was reminded of living as he soared against the inky night. He remembered his first winter flight with Philza. He fell towards the ground unable to deal with the brutal temperatures. His father had been there to catch him- support him- swearing to Wil he’d only have to fly in the winter if he were every in trouble. He wondered if he was in trouble now.

Technoblade was off, it had snowed again in the middle of the winter season. Wilbur would catch Techno staring out the window at nothing for far too long. Putting his hand on Techno’s shoulder would jolt him back to reality. His brother’s long pink hair that was usually tied so neatly in buns, or ponytails was in a knotted braid that hadn’t been maintained in days. He looked pale. Wilbur was worried about illness.

“Hey Techno,” Wilbur stood form the floor, “You mind playing this round with Tommy? My knees are kind of sore.”

Techno shrugged sitting across from Tommy who shuffled a deck of cards.

Wilbur at on the sofa behind Techno taking in the site of his older brother. Techno had purple marks under his eyes, they looked slightly puffy as well. He missed his turn and Tommy had to keep pulling techno from his fog. Slowly Wilbur reached out picking up the long braid and pulled the hair tie free. He brushed through his brothers matted hair surprised Techno was being a willing participant.

“I’ve always been jealous you had the patience for all of this hair,” Wilbur started braiding noting it was messier than anything techno had done.

“I’m going to grow my hair as long as techno,” Tommy proudly declared, “My braid will be ten times better.”

“You know I bet Techno could braid your hair now,” Wilbur suggested getting no response from his distant brother, “Techno,” Wilbur prompted.

“Oh-yea,” Techno shook his head, “Tommy come here.”

With quick fingers Techno braided Tommy’s short blonde hair before moving to Wilbur’s brown wavy mess. They were bonded the brothers of misfortune. Techno was getting worse, forgetting things, spacing out for hours, losing blocks of time. Wilbur kept asking him if he was okay but, Techno kept deflecting. Wilbur knew it was better not to push when it came to his brother. Techno would sort it out on his own, maybe it was a weird Piglin thing. Tommy stated asking again when their father was returning home as the snow melted and spring was on the way. Wilbur had no answer and it added onto the pile of anger he had been harboring. Seeing news cast after news cast about the war. How L’manburg was falling, how they didn’t just end it. He kept catching glimpses of their father at horrible sights, but nobody else seemed to catch him. Wilbur had given up months ago on the man he knew.

Cutting vegetables for dinner Techno put his knife on the counter leaning forward heavily panting.

“Hey you,” Wilbur started before Techno slumped to the ground.

“Techno!” Wilbur fell to his knees to comfort his brother only to be slapped away.

“Don’t touch me,” Techno growled.

“You need to rest something’s not-“

Slapping Wilbur’s hovering hand away Techno’s piercing green eyes shot through Wilbur, “I said fuck off, don’t touch me,” he growled. Standing on shaky legs Techno stumbled away and up the stairs leaving Wilbur to worry about his piglin brother. Techno locked himself away for three days, Wilbur left meals outside his door.

“Tommy!” A voice roared from down the hall, “I told you a hundred times to stay out!”

A scream sent Wilbur charging up the stairs, “What happened,” his voice died in his throat.

Cowering in the corner was Tommy his arms in front of his face to protect himself while Techno brandished a blade in front of him. Charging into the room Wilbur pushed Techno and his brother swung the weapon at him instead. His eyes red and angry his features more piglin than man.

“He’s just a kid what the hell is your problem?” Wilbur yelled.

“I’ve told him a hundred times to not touch my weapons and he was in here playing with my crossbow,” Techno growled.

“Is it broken? What is your deal, you don’t threaten him!”

“He doesn’t even deserve to be our brother, Philza raised us to be strong, and Tommy’s always been pathetic,” Techno spat.

“You’re a monster!” Tommy stood stomping his foot before taking off.

Slowly Techno lowered his weapon blinking frantically as his red eyes faded to the familiar green.

“Wil,” Techno swayed before collapsing to the floor.

Wilbur wasn’t sure which mess to pick up first. Deciding his brother on the floor would be priority. Getting leverage under his arms Wilbur hoisted Techno onto his bed glad the man passed out in his own room. Putting his hand on Techno’s forehead he felt the sheen of sweat on his hot skin. Biting his lip Wilbur took off to tend to Tommy. As he ran down the stairs, he pictured a flurry of gold feathers littering the halls. Of irreversible damage. Wilbur felt like his lungs were collapsing in on him as he checked every room to no avail. There was a chill in the air from an open window in the kitchen, Tommy had left. Wilbur felt himself gag when he realized. Tommy had taken off into the winter sky on the verge of darkness alone. Fuck and Wil knew he hadn’t taken time to put on any warmer clothes besides his thin long sleeve shirt. He had to go out and find him quickly throwing on his brown trench coat, scarf, and knit hat before running out and taking off to the sky.

“Tommy!’ Wilbur screamed until his voice was hoarse scanning the sky and land.

It had been two hours since he started his search, and his heart was pounding in his ears from a mixture of cold and panic. The sun had set behind the mountains leaving only a faint blue glow to the sky Wilbur knew would fade in time. Then Tommy would be out there alone overnight with no way for Wilbur to spot him. Tommy wouldn’t make it.

“Tommy!” Wilbur screamed.

“Wil,” A small broken voice made its way over the rushing wind.

Through tear frozen eyes Wilbur spotted him a small dark red speck in the white winter night. Immediately landing hard enough to stumble like he did when he was a child Wilbur scrambled to the lump on the ground. He couldn’t tell who was shaking more, himself or Tommy. In the darkness it was impossible to get a read on what was wrong, but the young boys breathing was shallow, and Wil begged for him to tell him what was wrong as he wrapped Tommy in his coat. A feeble effort to warm him. Holding his brother tight Wilbur prayed something he’d never been a fan of even being the child of a man akin to a deity. He prayed to his father to guide them safely through the night.

“Wilbur,” Tommy croaked, “I miss dad.”

“Me too,” Wilbur whispered holding his brother closer.

Miracles could bless those in dire need as the wind died down and the sounds of horse hooves crunching on the snow echoed through the trees. Wilbur’s ears perked at the sound of his name.

“We’re here!” Wilbur shouted with every breath he had left in his shivering body.

A horse sent by a prayer appeared before them with a familiar pink haired figure riding on top. He pulled off his red cape as he dismounted wrapping it around the shaking shoulders of the man who was trying so hard to have all the answers and hold it together.

“Let me see him,” Techno’s voice a faraway whisper with hands outstretched.

Wilbur hesitated knowing those hands caused destruction and started the argument that lead down this path. However, he was weak using all of his stamina while flying and holding Tommy tightly to his chest trying desperately to protect him from the elements. Slowly Wilbur handed over the shivering boy. Techno looked over Tommy nodding to himself Wilbur knew he was using his superior night vision to check Tommy over.

Standing on unstable legs Wilbur hoisted himself on the horse holding the red cloak around himself tightly apologizing in his own mind to his brother quietly endured the bite of the frost. Letting his dark eyes slowly close Wilbur continued his prayers to his father-pleads to come home.

Waking slowly with a pounding headache Wilbur propped himself on his elbows. He was in his bed int eh same clothes he’d worn last night. Looking down he saw red splotches on his shirt feeling his skin crawl. He wished it was his. Rolling out of bed he hissed at the pain in his knees, that landing had done more damage than he thought. Leaning against the wall for support he limped his way out into the hallway where a savory aroma hit his nose. Soup- a familiar soup- a dish his father had made a hundred times when one of them had been injured or sick. The stairs creaked causing Wilbur to hold his breath.

“Oh, good you’re up.”

Wilbur’s face fell, “Your hair.”

Techno stood in the hallway with a tray carrying two bowls of soup. His long hair had been hacked away into a short messy style. His long braid discarded.

“I’m leaving Wil,” Tehcno’s voice was cold, “I need to find Philza.”

Wilbur shook his head feel his braid, “We don’t need him we’re doing fine without-“

“I need him!” Techno shouted, “You don’t get it! I’m a danger to you two without Philza here! He keeps the voices away; they demand blood, and it doesn’t matter whose. Wilbur if I did anything permeant to you or god- fucking Tommy almost died last night!”

“That wasn’t your fault.”

“Don’t try to spare me, you sugar coat everything thinking it’ll all work out, but it’s not working Wil! So, I’m going to drag dad back here by the scruff of his wings.”

A creak of the floorboards.

“A branch went through Tommy’s leg, its broken. I set it the best I could.”

“Techno please, we can beat this without him.” Wilbur felt his throat tighten.

“I’ll be back before summer.” Techno set the tray on a small table in the hall.

Without another word Techno walked down the stairs with Wilbur at his heels begging the man not to leave. Not for him but for Tommy, he would beat himself up, he wouldn’t survive if Techno just up and left. He’s a child who doesn’t deserve anymore disappointment. Nothing could deter the determined look of the piglin as he secured a travel bag to his horse and double checked the saddle. With a stern glance Techno left his axe shinning in the sun on his back.

Wilbur went inside a numbness overcame him as he pulled his heavy legs up the stairs grabbed a bowl of soup went into Tommy’s room. The boy laid eyes closed leg elevated the wrapped. Bloody scraps of cloth laid all around the room. Setting the bowl on the nightstand Wilbur felt his world crush him falling to his knees and sobbing his chest heaving. He apologized over and over to no one who could hear him. He apologized for being weak, unable to protect anyone, for letting things slip through his fingers. When Wilbur felt his heart snap months ago watching the fires he ignored it, took up smoking, and retreating into himself hiding what he thought he knew of his father from his brothers. If L’manburg was supposed to fall Wilbur wanted to push-someone had to push. It was the only way to bring everything back.

It was the first day of spring when Tommy finally awoke disoriented and Wilbur cried again holding his brother close to his chest. A warm wind rustled the grass that was returning when Wilbur had to come clean about Technoblades absence. He watched Tommy’s curious blue eyes become cold and steely. He wasn’t inconsolable, but as the earth thawed Tommy became icy. Going into town wasn’t as fun without Tommy chatting to everyone instead, he stood by Wilbur avoiding eye contact. Wilbur made a point to take Tommy out more hoping he would just spring back even on his crutches. After a while Tommy started saying he was too tired to hobble to town on his busted leg.

“That leg will heal in time Tommy, before you know it, you’ll be bouncing around again,” Wilbur encouraged.

Tommy pouted silently.

“I’m at my wits end Niki,” Wilbur leaned on the counter, “I can’t bring him back from this.”

The sweltering summer weather was on the way Wilbur had gone to buy ice cream realizing it was just another feeble attempt at fixing something impossible. “He’s been through a lot; the cast just came off didn’t it?” Niki pointed out, “All spring he’s been trapped, maybe take him for a flight! He’s always so happy to come back from those and tell me what he saw,” She giggled.

Wilbur shot up, “You’re a genius!”

A crash stopped Wilbur and unknowingly changed the ever-evolving family of unfortunate crows. A boy stood there wide brown eyes shooting between the knocked over display and Niki and Wilbur. His breathing was heavy.

“Sorry,” he stuttered out.

“It’s okay Tubbo,” Niki quickly assured him, “Accidents happen.”

Wilbur crouched down next to the boy spotting two stubby ram horns poking through his thick brown hair, his bangs were practically covering his eyes. He had long floppy ears and black nails. A hybrid.

“I haven’t seen you around before,” Wilbur observed.

Tubbo said nothing staring back with big doe eyes.

“You just move in mate?”

Tubbo shrugged.

Niki gave a sad smile to Wilbur, “His situation is a lot like yours, except it’s just him.”

Wilbur’s body jerked like electricity had shot up his spine. A situation like his huh, an absent father fending for himself. All alone though he was just a kid couldn’t be older than Tommy, that was cruelty. Without hesitation Wilbur offered the kid a place to say welcoming Tubbo into the misfit pack. How he wished he’d met that kid sooner. At first Tommy was apprehensive until Tubbo burned himself on the stove. He wouldn’t let Wilbur go anywhere near him to help cowering like an animal in the corner. When Tommy approached though slowly Tubbo offered his hand. From that day forward the boys were inseparable as Tommy showed Tubbo things the ram boy had never seen and swore to protect him. Wilbur smoked a cigarette on the porch watching the boys climb trees in the backyard. Sometimes when he blinked, he saw himself and Techno climbing those trees. When did Techno go from the scared unsure halfling to a warrior? All Wilbur did was blink.

Running an errand in town the boys were chasing each other as usual when Tommy’s golden wings sprung out, somehow Tubbo had yet to see them.

“Wow!” Tubbo beamed, “Can you fly with those?”

Tommy shrugged, “Kind of.”

“Tommy,” Wilbur raised a brow, “You’re a splendid flyer.”

Tommy gave his wings a flap shrugging again.

It hit Wilbur; Tommy hadn’t flown since that night in the snow. Hadn’t even attempted all summer to stretch his wings.

“Why don’t you guys buy some candy form Niki,” Wilbur handed the two boys money watching them run off.

Wilbur went to a different store to buy his cigarettes. It smelled of cheap smoke and alcohol lined the shelves. It also played the news Niki had stopped showing because she thought it was bad for Tommy to see. Wilbur didn’t totally disagree, but he couldn’t play it at home either. The store was dim and none of the faces looked friendly, besides the slick man who worked at the counter. Tall with a close buzzcut, he wore glasses with two different colored lenses. Wilbur had spoken to Jackmanifold a few times, never in depth, but he knew they shared the same view of L’manburg-it had to end. The conversation had started that summer if you could call it innocently. Now it was becoming real tangible plans with a syndicate closer to the city.

“They’re starting to move the dynamite,” Jackmanifold slid a pack of cigarettes across the counter, “It’s a slow process, but when it’s done the war will end.”

Wilbur scowled; it was for the best. It was a complicated plan and included p6eople sneaking around to plant large undetectable stacks of dynamite around the city. The hardest part would be building the kill switch mechanism from what he understood. To set off he explosives untraceable.

Lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag Wilbur walked towards the exit, “Keep me updated Jack.”

“You got it boss,” Jackmanifold saluted.

Exiting the store Wilbur’s shoulders sagged.

“Wilbur!”

Two boys ran towards Wilbur showing off their spoils from the general store smiles bright and unafraid, unaware of the world crumbling around them. Wilbur returned their bright smiles he was doing this for them.

Summer was hot and the only cooling relief came in the form of a small inflatable pool Wilbur pulled from the basement. The boys got a kick out of splashing each other and Tommy had gotten more comfortable letting his golden feathers flap around like he used to. Wilbur had taken up journaling writing down every insignificant detail of days that dragged on through noon until lunch when suddenly the cool nights went much too fast. He wrote down the day he took the duo fishing, how Tommy never wanted to go again seeing fish struggling was too much for the young boy. How Tubbo tried to show Tommy it wasn’t that bad and trying to eat a raw fish. He wrote about taking Tommy back to the sky the poor boy was practically shaking at the thought.

“Tommy avians weren’t meant to spend so much time tethered to the ground,” Wilbur had said one day.

Tommy shook his head, “Wilbur I can’t last time it was.” He stuttered.

“Last time it was cold and dark,” Wilber gripped Tommy’s shoulder reassuringly, “Today’s perfect.”

Tommy shook his head, “Look Wilbur.”

“I’d like to see it,” Tubbo chirped, “I’ve never seen you fly! Could you take me?”

Tommy looked at Wilbur.

Wilbur nodded, “When he’s older he can.”

The thought of taking Tubbo into the sky was all it took for Tommy to follow Wilbur back into the open air. It really was a perfect day; Wilbur wrote in his journal about how there was no clouds in sight that day. He wrote about Tubbo wanting to get into music after seeing a traveling band in town. Wilbur spent the end of the summer teaching the boys guitar. Tommy snuck into Technoblades old armory in the shed and started to take blades seriously. Wilbur was hesitant but figured Tommy should know how to defend himself. Sending him to learn with Jackmanifold who was sworn from talking about L’manburg. Wilbur wrote about watching the boys grow for two years they turned into brave young men, and for a moment he was proud. They’d had ups and downs but the young men who stood in front of him now were admirable. Wilbur wrote letters his father would never see, and apologies Technoblade deserved.

Fall was right around the corner and Wilbur had given his trench coat to Tommy last winter. He was in town looking for warm clothes for himself as well as Tubbo. The boys were milling about the isles on their own while Wilbur hummed to himself going over his coat choices. When the crowd around the TV caught his eye Wilbur already knew it would be L’manburg coverage. Noticing Tommy and Tubbo at the back of the store Wilbur slowly made his way through the crowd. His heart shattered and his breathing became ragged at the sight of the news coverage, hey were speaking of a beast of pure rage that had knocked down a whole wall in a single blow. Wilbur knew who they meant deep down in his aching bones he knew-but it couldn’t be he went there to bring their father back not join in the bloodshed. They must have been talking about Technoblade as they mentioned his blood red cape and crown on his head- a prince of destruction.

Wilbur ran, he left the boys as he sprinted down the street to the sketchy store on the corner where he bought the cigarettes that started to make him cough. “You have to blow it!” Wilbur slammed his fists on the counter.

“Wil, we can’t,” Jackmanifold tried to calm him, “There’s only a fail-safe button if you were to press that you’d die.”

Wilbur laughed, “It’s almost been three years Jack! What is taking so long!”

Jackmanifold raised his unusually even tone, “It’s not exactly easy sneaking tons of explosives into a maintain and rigging them outside of a war zone!”

“Tell me where,” Wilbur ran his fingers through his hair.

“Mate,” Jackmanifold looked pale.

“Tell me Jack or I swear I’ll burn this place to the ground!” Wilbur grabbed the front of Jack’s shirt his wings spreading far enough to break bottles as they fell off shelves. Jackmanifold spilled the beans and Wilbur spiraled that night packing all of his belongings hastily into a suitcase. Hurrying down the stairs in the dark only to be stopped by a man at the door with blonde hair and arms crossed.

“Where you going Wil?” Tommy asked.

“Tommy, I have to,” Wilbur trailed off.

“Have to what huh?”

Wilbur winced, when was the last time Tommy had raised his voice in true anger.

“Fucking leave? Like Techno? Like dad?” Tommy raised an eyebrow, “Want to leave me here alone.”

“You’re not alone,” Wilbur was trembling, “You have Tubbo.”

“You’re my brother! You’re all I have left of my family Wilbur!” Tommy slammed his fist into the door, “Tell me why you’re leaving! Tell me why Technoblade really left! Tell me if you knew dad was leaving and why nobody gave me any goddamn warning! Why am I the last one to know anything in this family? I. am. A. part. Of. This. Wilbur! Stop treating me like I’ll break if you talk about them! It’s been three years and I haven’t heard you mention them once, just slowly break!”

“What’s going on?”

Wilbur turned he felt lightheaded as he saw Tubbo those same wide brown eyes shining in worry like the first day he saw him.

Tommy was laughing, “Welcome to this shitty family Tubbo! We’re fighting because your brother thinks your nothing!”

Wilbur felt his stomach twist at Tommy’s laugh-he was becoming more like Wilbur- Tommy was better than that. Wilbur thought he had been sly all these years, but Tommy was wise and knew he was falling apart.

“That’s not true Tommy,” Wilbur reached into his pocket pulling out a leather-bound journal holding it out to his brother, “If you don’t believe me then read this, but not yet. I’m going to L’manburg, and you might as well come with me. I hear there’s a safe zone outside of the city. You can read that and all of the books in the desk in my room after this trip. Okay?”

Tommy snatched the book looking at it, “Why would you go there,” he scowled.

“Techno went to get Philza back, but something went wrong. Now I’m going to end this story and get them both home.”

“Fine,” Tommy nodded, “Let’s pack our bags Tubbo.”

Renting a cart all Wilbur could think about was the outburst Tommy had, years of resentment had built inside of him Wilbur had never seen coming. Years of pain and confusion as his family fell apart around him. He was feeding off of Wilburs poor energy it seemed as well. Tommy was better than Wilbur-he had a bright future ahead of him. When they stopped for the night on the first day of their trip Wilbur snuck the leather journal from out of Tommy’s backpack. He wrote an apology letter, for the past present and future. He deserved at least that much.

When they got to the encampment Wilbur felt electricity spike through his body. He jumped from the cart running past confused by standers before his fist collided with a familiar face.

“I deserved that,” A gruff voice spoke.

“You deserve more than that,” Wilbur growled his fist still at the ready.

A tall figure with a muscular build stood before him, an axe at his hip, pink hair growing out to his shoulders. A blood red cape fluttered around his ankles and it looked like he’d broken a tusk.

“You’re right,” Techno nodded.

“Technoblade!” Tommy shouted running through the path Wilbur had carved out of the crowd.

Colliding with the tall man there was very little give as Tommy threw his arms around his chest. Techno looked at Wilbur in a pause his arms in the air palms out. Wilbur sighed giving a nod.

Technoblades face was soft as he smiled bending down to hug Tommy, “You’ve gotten so big.”

Wilbur wondered what it was like for Techno, the last time he saw Tommy he was critically injured, a busted leg, hypothermia now he had a full wingspan. Tubbo slowly came to stand next to Wilbur silently watching Tommy hug another hybrid.

“Who’s that?” Techno asked spotting the ram boy.

“My mate Tubbo,” Tommy moved to the boy slinging an arm around his shoulders, “basically part of the family.”

Tubbo gave a small wave.

“He basically saved Tommy after you left,” Wilbur narrowed his eyes.

“Wilbur,” Techno started.

Wilbur walked away without another word into the crowd back to the cart. He pulled it out of the commotion of the tents and stalls to an open part of field. He tied it to a tree and found a large boulder to sit on watching the crowd mill about. Looking at the sky he saw it, the mountain he would be climbing that night. After the sun went down Tommy would get the life he deserved.

As the time wound down Wilbur made sure to spend the day with his brothers even softening up around Technoblade. They ate good food and met better people caught up in a tragedy Tommy slowly realized he didn’t know much about asking Techno question after question to Wilbur’s dismay.

“How sheltered did you keep him?” Techno half joked.

“I just wanted him to be happy,” Wilbur looked at his reflection in his beer, night had fallen he had to leave, “If something happened to me,” he swallowed thickly, “Would you look after both of them?”

“Of course, I would but nothing is going to happen to you out here, it’s safe,” Techno assured him.

“Come home Techno,” Wilbur asked. His answer would change everything. He was the last string holding him together.

“I can’t until this is done,” Techno shoot his head a new braid done by Tommy swished around, “These people need me to keep them safe right now.”

It snapped.

“Right,” Wilbur nodded pulling his knit cap over his ears, “Have you seen Philza out here?”

“A few times, he was trying to be positive, but,” Techno took a drink, “He’s losing himself Wil, it’s bad. If this doesn’t end soon, he won’t be Philza much longer. I’ll get word out you’re here though; he’d rush to see you.”

The thought made Wilbur smirk, he had so much time to rush to see him, it was too late now.

Wilbur squeezed Techno’s shoulder as he said he was going to bed. He hugged Tubbo and hugged Tommy for far too long. He heart was aching; he thought this operation would be easy and as he hugged his youngest brother who had been through the ringer, he second guessed himself. He had to remind himself this was bigger than Tommy, this would stop a whole war. He had come this far-it was for more than just himself.

Lighting a cigarette on his torch Wilbur started to climb the mountain, it was steep, and rocks slid and tumbled with every step he took. How people could be stealthily on this trail he’d never know. He was sure the whole city could hear him scheming. He had his white wings out to help him balance and for comfort-if he fell, he would catch himself. He cursed his white feathers if they were black like his fathers he could have flown up.

Getting to the crest of the mountain the mouth of a cave greeted him. He entered with no hesitation his heart pounding in his chest as he noticed the writing on the walls. The anthem of L’manburg. In the center of the writing was a button-the button that would end it all.

“I knew I’d catch one of you eventually if I waited long enough.”

The voice behind Wilbur turned his veins to ice.

“Turn around slowly,” They demanded, “And come with me. I have a few questions.”

Slowly Wilbur turned to a shocked face holding a shaky sword.

“Wil,” Philza whispered into the dark, “What are you doing?”

“Philza,” Wilbur’s voice cracked.

“Why are you here?” Philza dropped his sword his long blonde hair braided to the side.

Wilbur wondered if Techno had done it. He smiled feeling his mouth wobble, “I want to bring you home.”

“Wilbur I promise to come home as soon as-“

“I’m ending this tonight!” Wilbur shouted, “It’s been three years Philza! Do you know what any of went through? Did Techno tell you how he ran away when Tommy almost died?”

“What?” Philza’s green eyes were wide, ‘I didn’t-“

“What do you still know about us!” Wilbur backed towards the wall, “We’ve grown and changed, and you haven’t been there! I can’t believe you even recognized me!”

“Of course, I recognize you! You’re my son!” Philza shouted.

Wilbur smirked, “I used to proudly tell people I was the mortal son of the crow. Now I say I have a dad somewhere. Except I’ve known exactly where you were all this time. I saw you on TV when no one else seemed to be able to! Causing atrocities. You even brainwashed Technoblade into it because he’d follow you anywhere.”

“Buddy I’ve been,” Philza hesitated.

“So, help me if you say doing your job, I’ll slit my own throat,” Wilbur spat.

Philza stood straighter, “I’ve been helping people, I’ve been a relief effort I’ve only raised my sword to defend.”

Wilbur hung his head, “I wish I believed you,” He looked at Philza with blurry vision tears welling up, “Do better for Tommy.”

Wilbur hit the button.

“NO!” Philza screamed rushing forward as the earth shook and rumbled.

Wilbur closed his eyes waiting for the crushing pain he deserved of mountain debris. Nothing came as the sounds of explosions rang through the night and sparks brighter than the stars lit up the night before the fires. Opening his eyes, he saw black wings extended over him protecting him from harm. Heavy breathing was the only sound as Wilbur looked into his father’s soft eyes and saw fear, panic, and anything but disappointment. Wilbur felt tears fall down his cheeks, but they weren’t his own. Looking to where the small mouth of the cave used to be he saw a gaping hole with crowds of people gathering to see the monster dwelling inside.

Tommy, Techno, and Tubbo stood out, their mouths a gape as they saw Wilbur pinned by their father in a tragic twist of fate. Slowly Philza stood turning to see the same crowd.

“You brought them here,” Philza looked panicked.

Wilbur clutched his own chest, “Philza you have to kill me.”

“What?” Philza whipped back around.

Wilbur stood kicking Philza sword towards him, “You have to kill me. They’ll arrest me.”

“Wil,” Philza shook his head, “We’ll work this out, I’ll talk with them.”

“Your reputation will be ruined.”

“I don’t care about me reputation! I won’t have to keep doing this if I lose it!” Philza stepped closer his hands out like he wanted to comfort Wilbur, but they were shaking.

“Philza they’ll torture me, you know they will.” Wilbur spoke like a dead man.

“I won’t do it in front of them!” Philza screamed, “You’re my son! I won’t kill you in front of your brothers! My children!”

“They’re so much stronger then you know now,” Wilbur picked up the sword from the ground slowly walking towards Philza. He put the hilt in Philzas open palms closing his fingers into fists holding his own clammy hands around Philzas warm ones, “Dad.”

Wilbur whispered his final word as Philza stepped forward and Wilbur hugged his father for the first time in a very long time. He cried silently while his father sobbed onto his shoulder his black wings encircling them as if to make it more private, to spare his brothers from knowing. As Wilbur succumbed to the pain he smiled, they knew, he bet Techno knew all along he came to L’manburg to die. It hurt more then he thought it would, physically or emotionally he couldn’t tell though. The pain in his abdomen was fire, but hearing Philza wail, and Tommy’s voice ringing in his ear Wilbur closed his eyes feeling cold, and warm against his father and his feathers.

“Wilbur, my strongest son,” Philza whispered.

They were the last words Wilbur heard. ------- Traveling in silence a day later Tommy was flipping through the journal Wilbur had given him, it was all of Wilbur’s personal thoughts. Tommy felt like a fool saying Wil hadn’t cared about him. He’d documented everything, several times he talked about how brave, and strong Tommy had gotten two summers ago. Their first winter flight together- how impressed Wilbur was. Tommy was a fool, he wrapped Wilbur’s old coat tighter around his shoulders trying not to cry where everyone could hear. If this was just one journal he wondered how many were in Wilbur’s desk, what they all said. At the end of this one Wilbur mentioned getting the family back together. He looked up at Philza driving the cart- he held Tommy so tight last night. It reminded him of the forest when he broke his leg. Idly flipping through Tommy noticed writing he had missed on the front cover earlier.

Dear Tommy,

You were served a rotten hand in this life, with a father who disappeared and brothers who were broken. Techno and I tried our best I promise you that, but we weren’t equipped to bring you up still being kids ourselves. We were scared- I was scared- of letting you down. I’ve written a journal full of apologies to Tehcnoblade, and I was a fool to think after Tubbo showed up you weren’t owed anything. You are owed a dozen apologies from three people, but I hope I am sufficient. If you’re reading this at all there’s a good chance I didn’t come home okay, or I didn’t come home at all, and I’m sorrier than you could ever know. This life wasn’t for me Tommy, I am in pain and I don’t know how else to stop it. You dulled this pain for so long I almost forgot I was suffering. I never realized how it was affecting you, and you were right, you’ve bene in the dark for a long time, because no one wanted ot hurt you- instead we did the opposite. Don’t be mad at Philza – our father never wanted to be a figure head, he wanted to be a man who made his family proud, and you should be proud of him. He would do anything for us, he just hasn’t had a lot of choices when it’s come to fate. If he could leave it behind, I know he would just to spend every day listening to you catch him up on what he missed. Be gentle with Technoblade, under his tough exterior out brother is soft and scared of what you think of him. When he left it was with good intentions to bring our father back. He gets caught up in his own head and becomes a danger to himself more than others. If you see him start to clam up don’t let him- bother him every day. He’ll pretend to be annoyed, but he wants to talk about it, he wants to feel something. Protect Tubbo when this is all over. Our family will be fractured and hurt, Tubbo has only ever had a broken family, he’ll hurt watching the pain work its way through your hearts differently. He’ll fell like an outsider with no right to mourn, but I believe Tubbo became just as much of a brother to me. I know he saved you from yourself, you might need to save him in return. Just remember not to be too strong, let yourself feel. We as a family hid our emotions for too long. Lastly, I have a large request I may not even know comes true, but don’t be mad at me. If I could have, I would have done this differently, but there was no more time. I needed to be free, you needed to be free. Tommy you’ve grown into a brilliant, gentle, curious soul who puts others before himself. Who is afraid to put himself first, listen to yourself more, trust yourself more. You are important and deserve to take care of you. I would have loved to see you continue to grow as you come into your own, but it wasn’t meant to be. Remember avians weren’t meant to be on the ground too long. Find me amongst the clouds on your next trip to the sky. Your brother forever, Wilbur.

Tommy hiccupped grabbing the ends of Wilbur’s jacket tight as he dropped the book, curled into a ball and sobbed, not for himself, but his brother whose hurt he never got to understand.

[unincised]

It’s 12 in the morning and instead of doing homework I wrote a meta fic in the perspective of Dream and Wilbur during Dream SMP War. You can read it under the cut!

Inspired by (but not based around) <this post> and everyone’s replies, because that got me messed up tbh.

(It’s probably not chronologically correct / some events are probably forgotten or misinterpreted, but it’s early and I’m bored and inspired, so idk man.)

3k words; 2nd POV; any content warnings in the OG war apply here, but I don’t go into graphic detail so don’t worry. Might post on AO3 if I’m feeling cheeky.

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You started to regret your decision. They haven’t existed on your land for too long, but they had already caused more trouble than what was worth. Still, you allowed them to stay, because they captivated your citizens; Strange accents, lovable characteristics, and a reputation that they grew from living elsewhere. You had figured that they would make great additions to your Court, for as long as they wanted it.

You never anticipated they’d take advantage. You never thought they’d stoop so low as to begin forming their own illegal acts behind your back.

There were whispers among the people; Forced smiles that promised secrets. You grit your teeth, because how could anyone keep secrets from you? From their King? Your closest friends knew nothing, but that didn’t mean nothing was happening. So, despite their best efforts to keep you calm, you went out scouting. There were tunnels all across your land, stretching as far as needed, appearing and disappearing, reforming to your needs. You knew this land better than anyone, and you used it to your advantage.

Tommy was acting awfully strange. Forced laughter, nervous glances over his shoulder, sword always strapped to his side. You tailed him until he was no longer on the main road, sneaking around a mountain and deep into the woods. Past a river. He stopped outside a single caravan, knocking on the door and being allowed entry a few moments later. Your eyes narrowed; No one informed you of a residence this far out.

Finding a better vantage point, you peered through the foggy glass and saw brewing stands lining the walls, a man you knew to be Wilbur pulling out a stack of blaze rods. Tommy visibly laughed, rubbing his hands together in excitement.

You couldn’t believe it. In his own home? Did they have no respect?

That night, you confided with George and Sapnap, watching as they sneered at the blatant lack of tact. It was the final straw: You made a final decision to ban them until further notice, maybe in a simple temporary status if they cooperated.

No one explained these things to you. You had no older advisors, no parental guidance, just your two friends who you’d trust with your life. You had no experience dealing with treason within your ranks, especially between two foreign ambassadors that weren’t supposed to break off with their own agenda. This was out of your control, and your confrontation hadn’t even happened yet. There was an unease within the three of you, but it was left unaddressed. You had no time to ponder these things. You needed to act.

Wilbur Soot was not like you. He was older, had experience, was once teamed up with legends that everyone knew the names of. He had a long-standing status within this very tight community. Compared to him, you were no one. You were younger, newer, growing fast but that meant nothing in terms of status. Your land was not well known either — if you ever needed help, you doubted that others would come to your aid. In this way, you were alone.

Despite your warnings, they did not back off. By this point, you were starting to get desperate. If you couldn’t handle a few criminals, how were you to keep your legitimacy as a ruler? You would be considered a joke, possibly even overthrown. Most importantly, how would your friends see you?

Through all of this, the citizens were turning. George arrived back looking frantic, shedding his commoner clothing and pacing around the room. He spoke of the murmurs in the crowd, of the people starting to lean towards those… those criminals. They spoke of you as a tyrant, singing praises of those foreigners’ bravery and justice.

Alone with your thoughts, you reflected. You knew that this war — and you knew it would become a war, no matter how much Alyssa denied it — would need to end with you on top. Luckily, this was something you could do. You were born to fight, knew the newest and deadliest attack methods, knew how to plan out traps, how to get people right where you needed them and strike before they even registered what happened. You had slain dragons; this team of misfits wouldn’t stand a chance.

The next day, you burned Tubbo’s house to the ground, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you screamed your declaration. WHITE FLAGS. OUTSIDE, BY TOMORROW! Sapnap cheered as the mansion lit the night up in a red glow. You knew that they’d be able to see it from where they cowered behind their walls in the forest. You hoped that they would back down before any real damage was done.

Two new allies joined your side, a young boy called Punz and a man named Eret. You only publicised one, the other was an Ace. Eret spoke in the accent of their opposers, came from the same region of their world, was charismatic and excellent at deception. Without hesitation, you gave him orders to be their spy.

“I want something in return,” There was a smug grin on his face, as if he already knew he’d get what was asked.

“Name your price.” You didn’t so much like compromises on such time-sensitive topics, but you knew that his role in this war would go a long way.

He wanted a castle, and a title to fit it. At first, you worried this was his obscure way of asking for your crown. It wasn’t; He wanted the title, not the responsibilities. With a suppressed sigh of irritation, you shook his hand.

Eret fit into the newly dubbed “L’manberg” seamlessly. He reported that they had no suspicions, going as far as to let him help build their wall of black stone. Slowly, the tension left your body; With this, the war was a guaranteed win.

Sapnap, ever the arsonist, strode up you with a mischievous smile, toying with a flint and steel. His idea was childish, would only really serve as something to fill the downtime and cause panic, but he agreed anyway. It was methodical, calming, watching the trees around L’manberg go up in flames until all that remained was a charred wasteland where a lush forest once thrived. George let out an exasperated sigh when he finally arrived, looking like a disappointed parent. To make up for it, you allowed him to light one block of explosives in the entrance of the nation’s walls, cheering and whooping as it cracked the stone and left a sizable indentation in the earth. For a time, things were perfect.

The harsh realities came crashing down when he arrived back home, finding almost no citizens on his side, harsh glares and spit words of villain. It seemed as if everyone forgot why the war was started in the first place. Did no one remember that it was them who came, betrayed what few laws he had in place, and then proceeded to create a nation on his land? Yet people sympathised with the four traitors — half of which were children. If anything, the notion that Tommy and Tubbo were being used for Wilbur’s own gain was something to fight against, but still no one listened.

You were beyond desperation: You needed to end this once and for all. Giving Eret the signal, and suiting up with your three other allies, the Dream Team finally headed off to war.

It was brutal. You arrived with the upper hand, camping atop the Embassy and sniping them off, effectively pinning them in Tommy’s old hut. The tides changed, and you retreated while they advanced. A game of cat and mouse, the roles switching mid-battle and no one knowing who was going to end up on top.

You sent off Punz to check on Eret, who had stayed behind in L’manberg. He arrived back with a confident smile, nodding once. The plan was set in motion, and you waited until the group of traitors returned back to their nation to regroup and restock. You lead the way through the charred remains of your land, dodging old traps and keeping to the shadows. The looming walls of L’manberg came into view, and a collective spike of excitement went through them. This was it; This was the finale. After all the failed negotiations: Discs, explosives, words — none of it mattered.

The hidden wall slid open, and in one fell swoop, you overpowered the criminals once and for all.

A message arrived the next day, from none other than Tommy. On it was a simple request for a duel, written in as few words as possible. As if the very notion of you reading his words disgusted him. George and Sapnap scoffed at the request, knowing the outcome with confidence, but you accepted it anyway.

Tommy was tired, bags under his eyes and the bow held low. Still, his eyes burned with passion, a promise of your defeat. Such a weak promise. At the count of ten you turned, appreciating Tommy’s unwavering resolve before firing a precise arrow and watching it plunge into the boy’s shoulder. His own arrow whizzed past your head, a few inches from its mark.

With one last look to the group as they crowded around Tommy in an act of protection, you turned and left.

The boy was persistent, a trait that you both appreciated and hated. A week later he was back, standing before you, a round object held tightly in his hands. You raised an eyebrow, finally impressed with the negotiation. Yes, this was something you could get behind. A fair trade: Something important to him for something important to you. A single music disc for an entire nation. Without context, the deal would seem weak and worthless. You knew better. You knew that his disc was treasured above anything else Tommy had. It wasn’t just a disc, it was leverage.

You took it from his weak grasp, watching as his hands clenched around empty air, head held low, but shouldered squared. The disc was turned over in your hands, as if in contemplation, before you acquiesced. He seemed to curl up into himself, and you wondered if this was something he wanted at all, or if it was the mental ministrations of Wilbur.

Nevertheless, you bid him a good day and went home. For now, you promised yourself, just for now you’d let them be.

The boy was surprisingly easy to betray. He gave you and your fellow friends free reign of his land so long as you followed his rules and played nice. You wanted to laugh outright, seeing right through that clay mask and into the eyes of a boy who knew nothing of real life. His position was unique, what with holding such a powerful title at such a young age, and that expanse of untouched land. He had no advisors, no guidance, following his and his friends’ own immature instincts. It was funny to you, but something else itched under your skin. You forced a smile at the interactions, convincingly obedient, but behind the curtains you sneered at this… child’s rule. What about him made for a King? How was he able to gather so many loyal citizens?

The amusement you originally felt twisted into jealousy.

To spite this boy and his very idea of ruling, you planned a coup. A revolution. Something to stir the pot, just to take him down several notches. The first step was Tommy. Naive, malleable Tommy, who played his part perfectly without even knowing it was pre-planned. Truthfully, nothing was remarkably illegal or interesting about creating a drug business deep into the forest, but it was a start. You snuck Tommy notes, telling of a fun project you wanted his participation in. You told him that he couldn’t tell a soul — sans Tubbo, of course — and waited for that reliable Tommy behaviour of not being able to keep a secret.

When he arrived on the doorstep of your Caravan, you could feel the eyes of someone else in the shadows of the trees. You made a show of it, leading Tommy to the room with a window, where everything was set up in plain view. The child was none the wiser, grabbing eagerly at the blaze rods, happily shrieking at this new turn of events. You promised him glory. You were on the right side of the war.

And there would be a war.

Dream was not a cunning ruler. He was smart, sure — everyone knew of his dangerous traps, of him outmaneuvering several people at once, of the several dragons he had slain just for fun — but he knew nothing of politics. He never addressed his people, never tried to win their favor, focusing all of his attention on countering every single one of your plans. You used this to its fullest potential, entering the empty spotlight and basking in the sympathetic gaze of the former King’s citizens. He no longer controlled them; They were yours. Their support was yours, their love was yours, and they promised you loyalty.

You took it all, and turned it back on Dream. In a beautiful display of true political power, you watched as your new followers pieced together their own narrative. Dream’s status was ruined, his name dragged through the mud, and you didn’t even need to do much. It was glorious.

There were casualties in war. Tubbo’s home was not a variable you accounted for, but with a few pats on the head, the problem was glossed over. Children were simple that way, you supposed. You told them that he could rebuild a new one, a better one. Homes were temporary, independence was forever. Tommy was the final word, escorting his friend away while trying his best to empathise. The sorrowful expression dropped on your face, and you turned back to more important matters.

A new face was standing at the entrance of your nation. He looked lost, hopeful, a tad bit tired. His eyes were covered by dark glasses. Eret was a sort of enigma, seeming to be a perfect addition to the team. They didn’t ask questions, did as they were told, was never mean to the younger boys. With his help, the wall around L’manberg was completed. Eret’s story was that had lived in Dream’s realm for a long time, but never seemed to fit in anywhere. As the tensions rose between the King and people of their origin, Eret no longer felt safe in the Kingdom. He wanted somewhere to belong, and he knew that you were the right man to give him that chance.

You had never heard of Eret before then, so you assumed the story legitimate. You had originally planned to still keep a close eye, but Eret was disarming, fitting into your ranks like he was there all along, never seeming like he was telling anything but the truth. He took on responsibility for Tommy and Tubbo, something you appreciated greatly. Until there was reason not to, you accepted him.

Tommy was enthusiastic, ready to charge into battle at a moment's notice. He stayed glued to your side, attempting to mimic and become a perfect copy. As if he was hoping to take your place someday. How funny. Besides that, he was comparable to a guard dog, which you could appreciate to an extent (you’d appreciate it more if he would stop trying to challenge enemies to 1v1s at every opportunity). You deduced that, in a few years — when he was finally combat-ready — he could make a formidable opponent. But Tommy didn’t have that luxury of time, so you made do.

Another thing about Tommy, was his obsession with two particular music discs. You wish you had found out this weakness sooner, because by the time Tommy told you, Dream had already discovered its leverage. Tommy and Tubbo would spend days off-schedule trading useless items with Dream, managing to trick him a few times until Dream came back with a netherite axe and forcibly stole them back again. It seemed to be an endless cycle, one which you did not appreciate. When Tommy returned with the two discs — confirmed to be the real ones — you told him that no longer was he to toy with the enemy like that. A dark look crossed his face, before compliance overtook. He saluted and went to find an Ender Chest.

You awoke to the forest surrounding your walls alit with fire. Standing on the outskirts, tossing aside a spent flint and steel, was Sapnap. His grin was maniacal, dark eyes staring at you with a challenging expression, knowing that he was untouchable. You had made it clear that nothing inside your nation was to be touched, but that of course excluded everything else. You grit your teeth, turning back to confer with Eret.

As soon as your foot touched the steps leading into the caravan, an explosion shook the ground under you. A cloud of smoke and fire emanated from the entrance of your country. Debris flew in all directions, gravel and dirt landing in your hair and dusting your clothes. The sound of cheering was heard in the distance.

When the final battle plan commenced, everything went wrong. Tubbo returned the day of the attack with news that they raided his home and broke all the potions he had spent days preparing. Your stock was nowhere near the needed amount. When on the battlefield, the group of netherite soldiers had you all pinned, fire arrows raining down from the skies. Even when you were able to change the tides, you quickly ran out of resources and needed to return home. It was a constant up and down, and you were only able to relax when inside the safety of L’manberg’s walls.

Eret had something up his sleeve. Something he’d been working on in secret. You felt an unease, because the man you had thought to be an open book was capable of hiding an entire underground bunker, complete with chests filled with…

Nothing. The chests were empty, and you turned in alarm when the sound of a button was pushed.

A few days later, Tommy entered your quarters, eyes downcast in something similar to shame. You suppressed a sigh, knowing that nothing good could come from a look like that. As it turned out, Tommy had challenged Dream to a duel. A final act, winner takes all. You didn’t know what to feel. As the war progressed, you saw the change in Tommy; He holds himself differently now. Dried cuts covered his face, bruises littered across his body, a near-imperceptible limp on the right leg. He was in no position for a duel, but it was out of your control. He had brought this upon himself, and despite it all you knew he had to follow through.

An arrow embedded itself deep into Tommy’s shoulder, and you swallowed harshly. He fell to the ground, and his friends surrounded him in a flurry of panic. Dream was gone just as fast as he arrived. Somewhere inside you, you knew that this would be the outcome. Still, you were disappointed.

You sat atop the walls, charred and cracked, needing several repairs after all they went through. But they weren’t your walls anymore, were they? Dream and his posse had won, and it was time for you to leave. In an attempt to overthrow that boy, you made him stronger. The citizens were divided, one half cheering at Dream’s victory, the other crying at L’manberg’s fall. When had this game become so serious? You didn’t expect this attachment to a throwaway nation that was only expected to live as long as it was entertaining. Now it felt like a real home, a place of sanctuary. You did this, you built this place, you fought for it. Still, it was no longer yours.

“I did it, Wilbur.” Tommy’s voice, normally loud and childish, had a somber tone. There was an edge of maturity, and of something gained while another was lost. You looked at him, taking in his eyes that seemed on the verge of tears, of exhaustion laced into every feature on his face, of calloused hands littered with nasty blisters. What did you do? The answer was not expected — you were ready to say goodbye to this place, to move onto the next project, to forget L’manberg ever existed.

A smile tugged at your lips. So faithful were his soldiers, so giving, so ready to sacrifice everything for something their leader barely believed in. You pulled Tommy close, embracing him in a tight hug that felt so unfamiliar. Your smile turned into a sharp grin, overlooking your land and seeing so many futures, so many possibilities.

“I’m proud of you, Tommy.”

[ramblingguy54]

Mr. Universe Breakdown

Mr. Universe is quite a delicate story to break down, given its a clash of two different parenting ideals of being too strict vs too relaxed that are showcased in what starts off as a fairly wholesome bittersweet father & son bonding montage with nice callback to Dear Old Dad over their moments together on the road trip outta Beach City, which leads them to what Greg considered to be nothing more than a prison. His old parent’s house, where he grew up in for the past 20 years before wanting to become more independent.

 One of the things that was honestly adorable, yet also very heartbreaking, was seeing Steven light up at all of his father’s childhood and teenage stuff Greg had the opportunities to experience with what was as normal as a person’s life could possibly be. Steven’s beyond ecstatic because of course he never got to experience any of those things in his very uncanny childhood, while Greg just writes it all off as being roped into all those past activities like manipulation by his parents. I mean, not to disregard whatever other stuff Greg had to put up with, but getting a haircut for graduation before a music gig isn’t that bad for example when it comes to dealing with your parents ideals. Although, never being able to live your life or enjoy all kinds of things in general as you transition into a more self-reflective phase, since those authority figures envision something different for you can become something toxic if not careful. In Greg’s case, it was obviously wanting to become a musician, which they were strongly against that idea, so anything music was banned in their household. To an extent, I totally get why they’d be concerned about Greg trying to make it as a musician, considering we all know he drifted around for quite awhile and never got a big break in his life, until finally meeting Pink Diamond. Seeing how lazy Greg was in his youth from episodes like, Greg the Babysitter, leads me to believe his parents were along the lines of that classic mindset, “Being strict to inspire hard work and determination in their son.”, where he was more rebellious and stubborn against that very notion. What his parents saw as pure intentions, Greg saw a mindset he never wanted to instill toward his own kid, leaning more on the hands free angle of letting Steven have the freedom to make his own decisions.

A wrestling trophy? I didn’t know you wrestled!

Not by choice...

Despite how much Greg strongly disagreed with his parents strict environment, his relaxed non-strict approach to raising Steven also had similar consequences, except they’re obviously much worse for this poor boy’s case. Considering the very nature of who Pink Diamond was and what that resulted in making Steven a lot more different than any other human being or gem as a special hybrid, ended up leaving this kid with a shit ton of responsibilities to handle from the get go, as well as serious insecurities about fitting into the bigger picture of reality, too. Whatever issues Greg had to deal with growing up are a mole hill compared to the galaxy sized self-esteem issues and bitterness Steven is struggling with currently. This severely blows up in Greg’s face when he lets Steven drive his car. Once Seven learns the origin that he got his name Universe from a song, it all goes down hill from there. Greg may have given him more freedom to do whatever and go wherever he desired sure, but that came at the expense of so much more in the process. Whether you’re too strict or lenient as a parent, each far end of the spectrum can be disastrous for any child under their care and Greg’s easy going idea of what it means to be a father is backfiring greatly.

You grew up with actual freedom.

I grew up in a van! I didn’t go to school. I’ve never been to the doctor, until two days ago!

Steven, you’re a gem! You’re not like other kids!

My problem isn’t that I’m a Gem! My problem is that I’m a Universe!

The unfortunate truth sometimes is that history of a family mistake can repeat itself. Greg tried to prevent making the same issue his parent’s did by deviating from their seriously strict and uptight rules, by having no real restrictions attached at all with Steven, but that only fanned the flames of a bigger fire to come down the road. He needed Greg to provide some sort of balance because Steven’s not your every day average kid and he absolutely did try to through having the Crystal Gems teach/discipline him, but that’s the biggest problem here. They’re not exactly competent parental figures to turn to for emotional support, so it only led to either Steven getting traumatized in certain events or having to help resolve big conflicting issues going on between Garnet, Amethyst, or Pearl throughout the other five seasons previously. Honestly, I seriously doubt Steven could’ve ever managed to go to school at all back then, due to how crazier things got for him as time went on, which that’s more or less the point. Steven’s origins of creation and the Gem war has robbed him of all those childhood joys any kid deserves to experience that one chance in their lives.

The line, “My problem is that I’m a Universe!”, was one of the details that struck me most about this episode. It’s more than just animosity toward his father, but represents his own self-internalized criticism of being unable to live up to this name he was born with. Steven’s always been asked to live up to the high standards of Rose back then from the Crystal Gems and always looked up to Greg with a lot of pride. Although, now that Steven is trying to figure out who he actually is as an individual, instead of the whole is he exactly like his mother deal, leaves him unsure if he’ll ever be able to achieve any of that greatness that the others have finally reached. That statement resonates so strongly with me because who doesn’t feel that way about living up to the birth name all of us were given when we’re brought into this world? It can be the most awful feeling when others are succeeding more than what you’ve managed to accomplish and feeling like you’re letting not only yourself down, but the family who gave you this name, too. Easily my favorite line of dialogue from Mr. Universe right here.

Mr. Universe was a very interesting study in how both parenting style extremes whether strict or laid back can have serious affects on the kids and create a cycle that will spread like wild fire that can do more harm than good, as shown with Greg & Steven here. Like, the fact that Greg actually praises Steven for ripping into him that harshly made me raise an eyebrow. Look, I appreciate that you’re trying to keep an open mind to your son Greg, but now is not the time for the friendly parent routine. This kid is showing you years of animosity & PTSD.

He needs a seriously in-depth conversation with you, man.

[aion-rsa]

Doctor Who: Why Does Everyone Keep Forgetting the Daleks?

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A scene that did not appear in New Year’s Day’s Doctor Who Special, ‘Revolution of the Daleks’.

SCENE: EXT. 10 DOWNING STREET, A PRESS CONFERENCE IS BEING HELD

PRIME MINISTER JO PATTERSON: …and so I introduce to you, our new, fully automated defence drones!

A “DEFENCE DRONE” GLIDES INTO VIEW.

JOURNALIST (RAISES A HAND): Hello, Jeff Typeface, Daily Exposition. Sorry but, um, isn’t that just a Dalek?

PM: A what?

JOURNALIST: A Dalek? About twelve years ago they transported the entire planet through space then rounded humans up in the streets and exterminated them?

PM: Hmmm. Doesn’t ring a bell.

ANOTHER JOURNALIST: Yeah, and a few years before that a bunch of them came flying out of Canary Wharf?

PM: Sorry, I’m completely drawing a blank.

JOURNALIST: Come on! They murdered one of your predecessors!

PM: Excuse me, but you can’t honestly expect me to remember every single British Prime Minister that suffered a violent death over the last two decades. We all know this job has the life expectancy of a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.

PM’S ADVISOR: Actually, Prime Minister, talking of your predecessors, Winston Churchill did try this exact same plan with a very similar looking contraption during the War, and I hear that went badly.

PM: I mean, I’m sure I believe you. I’m just saying this is all news to me.

JOURNALIST: Very well. Moving on, how will these “Defence Drones” help us deal with the Covid-19 pandemic?

PM: See, now you’re just making words up.

Doctor Who has always been a series that points and laughs at fans who want to try and piece together a consistent continuity across all its stories, but even by Doctor Who standards, forgetting an entire global invasion barely more than a decade ago (y’know, just before most of the show’s viewers were born, you absolute fossil you) might seem like a stretch.

Of course, the real reason Jo Patterson couldn’t remember the Daleks is that unlike say, the MCU, where weirdness layers upon weirdness to create a world that almost counts as alt-history, Doctor Who is, on some level, always reaching to be set in “our” universe. The key conceit of the show is that you might turn a corner, find a blue box, and suddenly be whisked away through space and time to a world of adventure. Which doesn’t really work if the British town squares of the Doctor Who universe all feature memorials to the victims of the Daleks and diet pills have to be tested for Adipose DNA.

But at the same time, Doctor Who just loves a great big Hollywood space invasion, and making these two core ingredients of the show mesh is a nightmare for continuity.

Let’s, for instance, take a look at the life of recently departed Doctor’s companion, Ryan Sinclair.

Life of Ryan

Ryan was born in 1998 or 1999. As a child, he attended Redlands Primary School at around the same time London was hit by a “terrorist attack” when shop windows dummies started shooting people. A year later a spaceship crashed into Big Ben, although this was later dismissed as a hoax. That Christmas Day, when Ryan was around eight years old, every human with O negative blood got up in a trance and went and stood on a tall building while a gigantic spaceship hung over London.

Still Ryan is a kid, he doesn’t watch the news, maybe nobody in his family is O negative and let’s face it, news of a lot of this stuff probably doesn’t get as far as Sheffield.

However, even in Sheffield he would have seen the regular “ghost shifts” that appeared all over the world, and at nine years old he would have been traumatised to have his home, like so many others, invaded by Cybermen before they all got sucked away by something.

His family make the wise decision not to turn on the news that Christmas, so he doesn’t hear about the “Christmas star” attack, or later that year a hospital being teleported to the moon, and while he probably remembers grown-ups getting very excited by Harold Saxon getting elected, fortunately most of his tenure as Prime Minister was erased from history.

Read more

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Ryan would have noticed when CBBC was replaced by a giant eyeball shouting that “Prisoner Zero Has Escaped”, and, shortly after turning ten, he definitely would have noticed when the entire sky was set on fire to prevent a Sontaran invasion.

And then of course, the Earth was teleported across space, planets filled the skies, and Daleks roamed the streets rounding people up. He would have been about the same age as future astronaut and Mars colonist, Adelaide Brooke at this time, and she was profoundly affected by the experience.

After that it’s possible the government may have rounded up him and his classmates to offer up to the 456.

To round the year off, Ryan actually turned into Harold Saxon for a bit. This was probably, on balance, the worst Christmas of the lot.

2011 was largely uneventful except that nobody could die.

Ryan went on to see the Tenth Doctor light the flame at the 2012 Olympics, was briefly into that whole “mysterious black cubes” craze before they got banned for some reason, and while he was in high school the entire Earth was covered in dense forest overnight but that disappeared, and nobody ever mentioned it again. The Cybermen invaded again. Then, not long after Ryan left school, the entire world was taken over by a species of really gross looking mummified monks who claimed to have always been in charge, before they also disappeared overnight.

Not long after that, Ryan met the Doctor for the first time and was shocked, shocked, to discover that aliens exist.

Cracks in Time

Steven Moffat did give us one handy explanation for why nobody in Doctor Who remembers the Dalek invasion, or the giant steampunk Cyberman that invaded Victorian London, and probably much more. In ‘Victory of the Daleks’ the Doctor tries to persuade Winston Churchill that using his own force of Daleks to secure the country was a bad idea, and he turns to Amy, who would have seen that invasion, to back him up. She has no idea what’s he’s talking about.

Later it’s revealed this is because the TARDIS explodes, destroying the entire universe with it. The cracks in time left by that explosion erased all kinds of events from history, including, handily, anything that would cause the human view of the universe to deviate too far from the real-world status quo.

Of course, that does leave some problems. Adelaide Brooke, again, clearly remembers the Dalek invasion and it was a moment so formative and influential on her eventual Fixed Point In Time that even the Dalek she saw (who, I remind you, was working on a plot to destroy literally all existence) didn’t dare exterminate her because of its influence on the timeline. And since it’s not implied the crack in time could bring anyone back from the dead, it does make you wonder what history says happened to Harriet Jones (former Prime Minister) and all the many others killed by the Daleks.

But maybe you don’t need a giant retconning Crack in Time?

Because while the Doctor has often waxed lyrical about humanity being indomitable, creative, and curious, there is also a lesser innate human quality the Doctor sometimes mentions: our absent-mindedness.

The Forgetfulness of the Daleks

As well as the Dalek incursions in ‘The Stolen Earth’ and ‘The Army of Ghosts’, there was another Dalek visitation of Earth in the ironically named ‘Remembrance of the Daleks’, which was set in 1963. During this adventure then-companion Ace points out she doesn’t remember anything about Daleks invading in the 1960s. The Doctor replies, “Do you remember the Zygon gambit with the Loch Ness Monster? Or the Yeti in the Underground? Your species has an amazing capacity for self-deception.”

Likewise, nobody remembers dinosaurs invading London, or the other time shop window dummies came to life and started killing people, or when the Earth encountered its exact twin. Without any cracks in time hanging around, Doctor Who falls back on an old staple of fantasy and sci-fi- that humans just ignore anything that doesn’t fit into their worldview.

As we’ve already mentioned, this turns up a couple of times in the new series as well. In ‘In the Forest of the Night’, the entire planet is overnight covered in forest for reasons that we’re not going to go into too closely because that story’s a bit of an embarrassment to be honest. As the forest disappears at the end of the story the Doctor says it will be forgotten outside of fairy stories, because that’s “a human superpower”.

It can even work two-way. In ‘The Lie of the Land’, the entire Earth is taken over by the gross-looking and mysterious “monks”. Using a psychic link, the monks convince humanity that not only are they humanity’s generous benefactors, but also that the monks have always been here, guiding human evolution. This is of course a lie, as the monks are actually one of the very few aliens not to have guided human evolution at some point.

After the Doctor does his thing and the monks’ statues are torn down, someone passes by the ruins of one and wonders what it was. Already, people are forgetting.

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Which, if you think about it, is a Doctor Who story in itself. Imagine being an alien visiting Earth. Humanity must seem like the Silence, but in reverse- as soon as they stop looking at you they forget you exist. The Doctor really ought to take a look at that some time.

The post Doctor Who: Why Does Everyone Keep Forgetting the Daleks? appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3bcKfBX

[irarelypostanything]

Unnecessary Arguments - violence against Asian Americans

Person #1: “A bad day is when the McDonalds drive-thru screws up my order.” That was a comment on Fox News highlighting the ridiculousness of the claim that a series of shootings constituted a bad day, and not a hate crime. I repeat, this was a comment on Fox News. Even they agree that this quote is stupid

Person #2: There is no evidence that this was racially motivated

Person #1: We shouldn’t be arguing about this. We should agree that these racist violent acts are horrible, we should agree that something needs to be done about it, and we should go from there.

Person #2: We should agree that violent acts are horrible, and we should agree that racist acts are horrible, but there is no evidence that this was racially motivated

Person #1: You want to start this? Really? I’m tired of staying silent about this for so long. I’m tired of being treated like an outsider in spite of everything I’ve done. We can speak perfect English, we can adopt American holidays, we can work hard and commit no crimes and try to make a good life for ourselves and our families...and now this. We’ve seen the footage of elderly Asians senselessly beaten - our elders, the ones Asian culture holds in the highest esteem. Since the pandemic started, violence against Asian Americans has skyrocketed

Person #2: My issue is not with acts of violence that were obviously racist - my issue is our tendency to create a narrative, with flimsy evidence, that this is somehow all connected. I’ve heard a number of logical leaps taken in the mainstream media. That former president Trump somehow caused this by using the term “China Flu.” That this is part of White supremacy. That the right is to blame

Person #1: A neighbor asked me where I was from

Person #2: Oh, here we go. There’s no such thing as a microaggression. It’s not racist to simply ask where someone is-

Person #1: Let me finish. When I said San Francisco, he asked me my ethnicity. When I said Chinese, he asked if I was documented. When I said yes, he asked me if I had a green card or a visa. When I said I was a citizen, he asked if I had taken a test. When I said I was a fourth generation American, he said that Trump would be sure to keep my kind of people out

Person #2: You’ve already ranted to me about this. That guy was completely crazy

Person #1: Racial slurs yelled at me through the window by strangers, one time when I was ten. I kept thinking that maybe something was wrong with me. Maybe if I just kept acting as American as possible, the others would accept me. But of course, in the eyes people like Trump, I can never really be one of them. Of course not

Person #2: Trump is no longer the president

Person #1: Yes, I think terms like “China Virus” and “Kung Flu” may have had something to do with it. Yes, when the same cop who claimed this shooter was having a “bad day” also posted earlier on social media a picture that said “Coronavirus: Imported from China,” I think this may be part of a larger narrative. When the president of the United States, long before this pandemic, claimed that global warming was a myth created by and for China, I thought...yeah, this is it. America has spoken

Person #2: Trump is no longer the president. Good job, you did it. I’d fact check you on the global warming thing, but it seems we no longer have a Twitter account to check. Biden is the president, and still you claim that this is Trump’s fault? I thought he was on a mission to end racism. I look forward to the coming months of a pandemic cure and tripling the national debt

Person #1: You still don’t get it, do you? Do you know how it feels to hear a coworker ask a Japanese man if he celebrates Pearl Harbor?

Person #2: We’ve already discussed this as well. The two were friends who just so happened to have an inside joke. The Japanese man was fascinated by the imperial navy. That’s it

Person #1: I had a friend ask me if I was even born here

Person #2: And did she stop when you confronted her about it?

Person #1: Yes, but-

Person #2: And as I recall, that’s because you insisted on making the first few racial jokes. You can’t have it both ways. You can’t make jokes about how Asians are good at math, or are all good at piano, and then get so offended when someone states a negative stereotype. Be the change you want to see

Person #1: You’ve complained about historical revisionism?

Person #2: What?

Person #1: I hear it from you. Constantly. You complain that our country’s history is being tarnished because we’re no longer celebrating every aspect of American history. Well here’s a little history for you. Chinese Exclusion Act, 1882. Japanese internment, 1942. A Chinese American was killed and the two white men who did it were sentenced to 0 jail time and a fine of $3000. Do you know when that happened?

Person #2: 1930?

Person #1: 1982. American history is marred by racism. And yes, it freaked me out a little bit when someone acting on Trump’s behalf claimed to be treating Japanese internment as a precedent. And yes, it freaked me out a little bit when the same talking heads who claimed to condemn racism also claimed that Trump was not racist, that he was not discriminating on the basis of religion, that the abhorrent things he said and did were somehow nullified, as if half of the country periodically experienced a shared state of amnesia

Person #2: For the last time, Trump is no longer the president. My issue with this is that you’re not addressing the real problems. Actual hate crime against Asian Americans takes place, and now it’s getting pushed to the sidelines in favor of a shooting that targeted places listed as top locations for sex acts

Person #1: What was your source on that? The Daily Wire?

Person #2: A nationally-recognized public high school is called racist for “having too many Asians,” then effectively disbanded to form a different kind of school...there’s racism everywhere, a seemingly endless pandemic, and a rapidly escalating war that everyone seems to be forgetting about. You want to change the words we use to describe things? Fine. But don’t expect racism to end because you renamed a few dictionary words and then banned a few Dr. Seuss books. You’re not making the problem better, you’re making the problem ten times worse. With your political correctness, your insistence that race be a factor in hiring decisions, and your unceasing reminders of race at every turn, you are making people angrier and fanning the flames of division that you claim to be so passionately against. As we speak, racially divisive videos are circulating on social media. Want to find a common ground? Talk to us about the flag, the country, the rights and freedoms you are afforded by living in the greatest country in the world.

Person #1: We will, when you let us. Talk to me when we’re not afraid to step outside the front door

[rboooks]

Can you show us Harry getting jealous of Orion because Hadrian pays him more attention? And a picnic with the whole family(Evans, Lupin & Black, and Potters), where they play games and stuff and Harry stares longingly at Hadrian but everybody thinks he's staring at Bill. Both the Evans are totally oblivious)

 This is oddly specific but in a good way anon. So here is my attempt to fullfill your request. 

Based off the wonderful fic C’est La Vie by the ever talented @cywscross. Ya’ll should read it if you have the chance. 

The picnic is an unofficial tradition that started sometime in the last magical war. Maybe it was to left their spirts in dreadful times, maybe it was a show of defiance against the blood supremacists’ fear tactics or maybe as the Weasley twins put it, the picnic was just an excuse the adults needed to relax and have a bit of fun.

Whatever the case, the picnic happens every spring, when the weather grew warmer and the grass returns from its frosted slumber, dressing the ground in brilliant green. They always rented a little space in the forest of Dean’s camping sights.

It wasn’t much but it had muggle repealing wards, along with warming charms and offered some picnic tables. It was also in a clearing in the middle of the woods, allowing the sun to peek down on them, with enough trees to hide any that wished to fly their brooms.

Harry wasn’t one to normally notice this but today that sunlight was resting in Hadrian Evans’ hair like a glowing crown and it was distracting. So terribly distracting.

He had to force himself to notice nature just so he wouldn’t be caught staring at Evans. This silly infatuation he’s developed for the other boy since the beginning of the year was rapidly getting out of control. 

Everything Evans did only made it worse, but most especially whenever the other boy lost his temper. He was light a firework bursting in sudden colorful flames that left him feeling awe in the glory of it. Harry was beyond frustrated about that fact. 

He’s tried to talking to Evans after the incident, but the other avoided him like a plague, choosing Orion over him.  That’s never happened before. The more Harry pushed to get his attention away from the mutt the more of Evans’ beautiful fury he saw- which on one hand was good and on the other, it wasn’t.

As the year progressed, Evans started to get closer to the Slytherin and the Golden Trio (but that was more after Evans was un-petrified and Longbottom’s guilt drove him to seek the green eye boy out). Not to mention Diggory and Lovegood, who was often spotted with the group as well.

It was darn near impossible to get close to Evans. Harry was slowly losing his mind, whining to Dean and Seamus over his newest problems. His friends weren’t much help, seeing as they never had a significant other either, but they listen to him anyway.  

His dad thought it was hilarious and even his mom couldn’t fight back the twitch of her lips when Harry let some of the love problems become verbal to them the first time. Though he never said the name of the boy and his parents were old aware of his crush being, male, dark wild hair, and green eyes. 

They must have guessed correctly since his Dad kept sending him teasing smirks whenever they passed by Dimension Hoppers during the Easter holidays. 

Since they both knew about his maybe-crush (could he call it that?) they were quick to agree when Sirius asked to invite the Evans boys to the yearly picnic. Harry had overheard Evans mention his big brother before but he never actually met the man properly (The meeting after the fight was spent with him more worried about his nose and the sudden realization how pretty Evens is to really pay attention to the oldest)

When the pair of brothers arrived, Harry had almost forgotten how to breathe. Walking towards them almost in slow motion, the Evans brothers were wearing muggle shorts and muscular shirts, both laughing at something the other had said, and honestly who gave them the right to look like that!? Who gave them the right to wear something like that while looking like that?! 

He’s a half-blood himself but he preferred robes since his mother didn’t really go visit the muggle world. He couldn’t understand how muggles were so comfortable in those restricting clothes. Especially those near his age, they were always wearing something bright or stupid on their clothing. 

Often times, they were fitted like a second skin and quite frankly didn’t do a lot of them favors. Nothing beats the flowing elegance of robes, highlighting the possibility of a body in Harry’s opinion. 

It certainly didn’t do the mutt any favors. 

Harry had thought Orion looked ridiculous in those muggle pants and printed shirt, the words “Moon-Walking away from my problems” in bright silver on black made the muggle shirt that much more hideous.

That was until Evans’ whole face brighten when he saw it.  “You’re wearing the shirt I got you!”

The mutt had looked as embarrassed but pleased as Harry has ever seen him. “It’s hilarious”

“I know right?” 

Evans had barely given Harry’s best set of robes (something he wore in hopes of getting some kind of the green eyes boy’s attention)  a glance, instead of talking about more “one-liners” he was planning on putting on shirts for Orion. The werewolf looked like he would kill to wear them. 

Maybe, it was time for a change in his wardrobe. 

It’s been a few hours, maybe two at most, since they started the picnic, the food was slowly being cooked under the watchful of Uncle Remus. Werewolf he is, but the man was the best at outside cooking spells. Must be all those years he spent on the streets like the rest of his kind.

The other adults had all pulled around the spell pit, some of them levitating some meat over the magical flame and chatting. Will easily join in with them, a cup of fire whiskey in his hand, filled but untouched. The man’s wild mane of hair stood out among the adults for its youthful shine as he told jokes and conversed.

His dad and Uncle Sirius hadn’t stopped laughing since he opened his mouth while his mom kept giving the eldest Evans smiles.

Since the adults were chatting the kids went off on their own. Usually, they played some games after eating, so before then the two would sit at a table where Harry would whine about the mutt being the only one around.

Now, Orion and Evens sat on the other side of the field heads bent over a muggle notebook, where Evans was drawing in a blue glitter pen. Orion would occasionally point, and add something with his own green glitter pen.

Evans’ eyes danced every time he did. 

Time went by, until the two had rushed over to Will, who had waved his wand and made a box of blank white shirts appear. Harry had watched them grab some art supplies and start to fill up the white cloth with words he was too far away to see.  

At one point Evans had even introduced the werewolf to tie-dye, apparently thinking this was the best picnic activity there could be. Harry doesn’t remember seeing Orion smile so much as he dripped color on the rubber-ban bound shirt. 

A part of him long to join. But he didn’t. 

Instead, Harry asked his dad for his broom.

Harry had gotten on his house Quidditch team this year. He is a good flyer, and boys were impressed with good fliers, right? So he busted out his broom, spent a good half hour working up a sweat with daring flips and turns with the hopes of getting that same kind of reaction from Evans.

If a shirt with some stupid pointless words were enough to get his green eyes to sparkle like that then surely Harry weaving and waving in the air would have a bigger reaction?

Now here they were. Harry on one side of the picnic ground doing some circles on his broom and Evans sat on the other side sharing a book of runes with the mutt offering Orion little smiles here and there as he babbled away about the symbols.   

Evans hadn’t looked up once and Harry was starting to get discouraged. He continued to do some broom maneuvers trying to work a tricky Gryfindor formation (he really needed to practice) occasionally throwing looks in Evans direction to see if he was looking.

He wasn’t.

Harry sighs. 

“That was pretty close.”  The sudden voice almost makes him fall off his broom. Looking down he sees the eldest Evans- Will- grinning up at him. 

“What?” 

“The Whirlwind Turn. You almost got it.”  

Harry raises a brow in surprise. “You know how to do it?”

“Of course. May I?”

Harry hates it when someone thinks he needs their help, and he almost tells the other male to piss off but he’s Evans’ older brother. He doesn’t think he’ll endear himself to the other boy if he’s rude to his brother. “Sure.” 

He goes to the ground handing over his broom with some hesitation. He doesn’t like it when someone who doesn’t know how to use brooms properly touches his and he’s worried the elder will be one of those fools. The doubt all melts away the second Elder Evans takes flight soaring through the air like it was born to do it.

He does the Whirlwind Turn so quickly he almost blurs on the spiral down, making Harry’s jaw drop. The Whirlwind got its name by the rapid and tight spins that one had to while going down or up, it took a large amount of skill and dedication to get it correctly but when one did, they defended or accelerated rapidly. “Wow.”

The man winks moss green at him “Want me to show you how to do it?”

Harry grins “Yeah!”

________________________________________________________________

Unknown to him the adults are watching from where they are pilling plates with their meals. Sirius gives Harry a slightly cold look before elbowing James  “Looks like your boy got a crush there.”

James watches Harry’s red face brighten as Will helps position correctly on the wood. “Hmm. Maybe. He was glancing over here a lot a while ago. Should I be worried?”

“Let him be,” Lily says. “It’s just a crush. It will pass.”

“Yes, besides Will is a good kid,”  Remus adds, his own smile just the slightest too tight. “Nothing to worry about him. As far as I’m aware neither of the Evans boys seems aware of their admirers.”

He gives a meaningful head nod to where Orion is holding hands with Hadrian as the pair attempt to practice for the three-legged race that will commence the moment the Weasleys arrive. Hadrian didn’t seem to notice that he was giving his son a heart attack but pressing himself so close to the other, as they stumbled about with one of their legs tied together.

Both boys were covered with their tie-dyed shirts having given each other the one they made. It was so cute. He would make sure to take a picture of them soon.

This was in his opinion the best picnic so far.