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pi-cat000 · 3 years

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BNHA: something sad (Resentment)

Summary: The last time Katsuki sees Izuku alive the other boy is rushing to save him. A ‘the Sludge Villain incident gone wrong’ aka Izuku dies.

Characters: Katsuki Bakugo

Fandom: My Hero Academia

WARNINGS! Major Character death, swearing, heavy angst, graphic descriptions of violence

Other parts in this AU: (Something Sad), (Anger), (Grief)

This is the direct sequel to (Implosion)

......

“Not many people get hit with a concussive blast of this strength and walk away will so few injuries.” Is what the paramedic that looks Katsuki over says, hand glowing a faint blue as he uses some sort of diagnostic quirk.

“It looks like you have a few cuts, bruising, strained muscles and sprained wrist from what I can see. I’d recommend getting a proper examination at the hospital but there’s nothing life-threatening here.” The medic continues.

The emergency doctor at the hospital confirms the diagnosis and shakes his head in disapproval, adding, “…bruising on your ribs and a fractured finger. No concussion, thankfully, but you’ll have a nasty bump on the back of your head. If your quirk didn’t make you naturally resistant to these sorts of shock-based blasts, you would be dead..”

…

After that, everyone is practically falling over each other to lecture him on how irresponsible and reckless he is.

His mum arrives and there is a lot of shouting which just pisses him off.

“HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO REACT WHEN I GET WOKEN UP AT ONE IN THE MORNING BY POLICE TELLING ME THAT MY IDIOT SON, WHO SHOULD BE ASLEEP, IS IN HOSPITAL!!”

“WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING!

Then there is the quiet disappointment he gets from his father when his mum is done yelling which only fuels his resentment.

“I don’t understand why you did it son. Did you want to get into that fight? Or was it a mistake? Please. We can’t help if we don’t know what’s going on.”

Eventually, he finally snaps, “I fucking felt like it! That’s why I did it! And you know what, I’d do it again.”

It wasn’t like he could or even wanted to explain that he’d jumped out his window to wander the streets at midnight because he had had a bad dream and his All Might poster had looked at him funny. That the rage and anger were preferable to that sinking empty feeling that had turned his every waking moment into a pointless repeat of everyday routines and useless interactions. That every time he let himself pause and reflect, Deku’s stupid smiling face was mocking him from the afterlife.

Next, he spends an hour with Senior Officer Watanabe recounting every possible detail from his stroll through the streets to his climactic fight with Lanky, Tiny and Grease-Hair.

“Well, you definitely don’t do things in half measures kid. So far we have private and public property damage, unlicensed quirk usage, quirk usage with the intent to harm, vigilantly activity, assault...”

“Assault! Why the hell is that on the list. Those bastards started it.”

“You can’t go around beating people up no matter how good your intentions are!”

“So, you wanted me to just watch!”

“Yes!” A long breath, “I know it can be hard but you need to wait for the pros. You got lucky this time but what if things had been different? You had misread the situation. What if you had been badly injured? What if you had accidentally injured the victim or killed someone? There is a reason we make people get a license for Hero work. Seison Masuyama is a B-rank villain.”

“B rank? He wasn’t that strong.”

“His quirk, Kinetic-Force, collects kinetic energy and releases it in one overpowered attack. It’s deadly to most people. You were lucky he had already used it once that day and that you were resilient enough to withstand it."

After multiple repeats of the ‘you’re lucky you’re not dead,’ with a side order of ‘it’s a good thing you’re still a minor because you could go to jail for this,’ he gets to go home.

It is three in the morning by the time he arrives back at the apartment, two exhausted parents in tow, having been issued an ‘official warning,’ an order to complete 100 hours of community service and instructions to undergo a psychiatric evaluation. He has never felt angrier or more resentful.

A days later and he is back at school, wasting his time watching clocks and avoiding classmates.

Nothing had changed.

…

The car screeches to a stop at the school gates, throwing Katsuki forward in his seat. His mum turns to fix him with a stern glare, eyes narrow.

“If you’re not waiting right here by the gate when I come to pick you up or so help me I’ll be escorting you to and from your classroom from the rest of your school life,” she threatens.

“Lay off you old bat,” Katsuki snaps as was becoming routine since his mum had started driving him the short distance to school, “I got it the first million times.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it.” A finger is pointed at his nose, waving in an almost menacing fashion. “Remember. Here. School Gates. 4:00pm. Don’t you dare think about ditching again.”

Katsuki sneers and kicks open the car door, turning to slams it shut with as much force as possible in retaliation. He stalks through the gates, shouldering his way through a group of loitering students. They all scatter when they recognise him. In some ways, he prefers dealing with the anger and yelling of his mum than his father’s quiet disappointment. That doesn’t stop it from being annoying as hell.

A spike of pain runs through his hand from where he must have used a little too much force on the door. Maybe he should take his father up on those kickboxing classes. Sure, he had practised punching after reading a bunch of online guides, but reading and solo practice were completely different when compared with real actual fighting. That was assuming he was going to be getting into more real fights. He opens and closes his bandaged fist, feeling a slight sting in his wrist and fingers. He glares. Four days on and he can still feel the echo of adrenalin. The thrill of righteous anger had been so much more satisfying than the directionless rage he was accustomed to. It had rekindled some of that fire that drove him to be the best, to win, chasing away the sickening emptiness which had been dogging his every waking step.

He wants to feel that again…He wants to do something other than listlessly go through the same daily motions as he drifts towards his now uncertain future.

“Hey Bakugō!”

He keeps walking, ignoring whatever loser classmates wanted to talk to him.

“HEY!”

A hand lands on his shoulder and Katsuki twitches, a hairs breath away from spinning and firing a blast point-blank into the pest’s face. Instead, he stops and deliberately turns to glower at the pathetic piece of trash behind him. Murata Taheiji from his homeroom is standing there, one hand on his hip, flanked by two other boys he doesn’t know the names of. Two more appear to stand in front of him, blocking his way. They are all puffed up like they think they’re hot shit. Katsuki scoffs. Are these failures really trying to bully him? HIM!?

“How about you get the fuck out of my way and go find a first year to pick on. You know, someone more on your level.”

That gets him an irritated scowl that transforms into a patronising grin, “You were always such a stuck up prick Bakago…Acting so high and mighty all the time. Not anymore, I know the truth. You’re just like the rest of us.”

“Huh?” he drawls, dragging out the sound, turning so he is facing the boy, “What the fuck are you on about.”

“My dad works for Musutafu police dispatch and he told me something real interesting yesterday.” A dramatic pause, “He said that you got arrested a few nights ago.” There is a laugh that is echoed by the four surrounding him. By now the confrontation has garnered the attention of several onlookers, who are slowly drifting closer.

“All that shit about being a Hero and you got arrested. What’d you do? Steal some candy from a convenience store? We all know you don’t have money.”

Around them, the growing audience is eyeing him with varying levels of eager anticipation like they think he’ll break down and start crying because of some dumb-ass insults. Damn, if that doesn’t just piss him off. How dare these losers think him that weak.

“Don’t compare me to your loser selves,” he dismisses aggressively, making to turn and forcefully elbow his way past. He is stopped by Murata’s hand which is still on this shoulder.

“You know what I think. I think you’re all talk.”

Katsuki stills, letting the words sink and curdle in his stomach. In one short move, he turns and steps in close to Murata so they are almost nose to nose.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” he warns. The other boy tenses, looking like he wants to say something else equally stupid. If he remembers correctly Murata has some sort of muscle-enhancer, reflex quirk. One of the only worthwhile quirks in the school.

Katsuki jerks his elbow up and around in a quick jab. It smacks into the loser’s face. Crack. Guess having fast reflexes didn’t make a difference when you never saw the blow coming.

There is a cry of surprised pain and shouts of alarm from the peanut gallery. The other boy falls back, tripping over his own feet. It is ridiculously simple to lift a leg and deliver a kick to the stomach, not even a strong kick, so his failed bully thuds onto the ground, tossing up a small puff of sand. Unlike the fight in the ally, there is no rush of excitement, no spike of anger or adrenaline. No exhilaration. He is just irritated and maybe a bit disappointed. That’s what he gets for expecting anything out of the pathetic losers that went Aldera Middle School. They were more annoying than anything else.

Murata rolls around in the dirt, wheezing, trying to draw breath. He can almost imagine Deku running up to complain about his violent tendencies or sprout some shit about Hero’s needing to protect people like Murata didn’t ask for it when he decided to try his luck bullying someone obviously stronger than him.

The reminder of Deku sours his already shitty mood.

“Ah…you broke my nose. YOU BOKE IT…ah…it hurts. Do something!” The idiot calls to his equally idiotic friends as he tries to stop blood from pouring down his face.

Katsuki gazes coolly at the boy before directing his attention at the four other ‘bullies’ standing frozen around him.

“You extras got something else to add to that?” With Murata out of the game, the rest of the pathetic group shuffles about uncertainly.

“Ah…we’re good,” The tallest one says nervously, “Sorry about that Bakugō. No hard feelings right?”

He scoffs.

One of the boys moves forward to pull Murata upright, kneeling and pulling out a tissue to help stem the flow of blood. “Crap. I…I think Murata needs to go to the nurse. This looks serious.” There are a few more apprehensive glances in his direction like the other boys think he’ll insist on continuing the ‘fight’-ha! like this has been anything near a fight- until they are all bloody messes on the ground. Kaksuki rolls his eyes. As if he has the patience to deal with any more of these losers.

“Cowards,” he mutters, shoving past. The crowd of students who had gathered to watch the failed confrontation, scramble to get out of his way. A strong breeze rushes through the school’s courtyard, drawing attention to how quiet it has suddenly gotten. Barely audible whispers follow in his wake and he can feel many sets of eyes on his back, watching.

“He always did have a bad attitude.” They murmur.

“Guess he’s a real delinquent now.”

“…did you hear what Murata said. Do you think Bakugō actually got arrested?”

“That’s got to be fake right? Murata is full of hot air.”

“No way. I believe it. You don’t have to share a class with him, I’m telling you, Bakugō’s gone nuts.”

“Kind of scary when you think about it. With a quirk like that...”

He doesn’t know why they’re all so shocked. This isn’t the first fight he has gotten into on school grounds. Okay, so maybe he’d held off doing any real harm before now, well aware that U.A. would probably check his school record. It had never mattered to him because there was no point in beating up weaklings when he was obviously superior. Except for Deku…the only person he had ever really hurt, the only person he could get away with hurting without repercussions. And now he feels like extra shit. God, what a huge farce it had all been. Kaksuki clenches his fist and growls, wondering if it isn’t too late to ditch and go find somewhere secluded to blow off steam. Anything to escape this feeling of frustration.

He doesn’t have time to make a proper decision because news of his ‘fight’ had obviously spread to the staffroom. One of the second year homeroom teachers comes barrelling out of the school’s front entrance, eyes immediately landing on him.

“What happened!” Their eyes move past him to the bloody Murata, “Go wait in the principles office. Now.”

Well, he didn’t want to deal with his annoying classmates anyway. He stalks away, the sounds of the teacher fussing over Murata growing fainter behind him. When he arrives, the principal’s office is empty and he flings himself down into one of the comfy couches, irritated. The bell for homeroom goes off and Kaksuki remains sprawled across the couch, arm across his face to block out the light and his view of the clock slowly ticking away.

Just as he begins to contemplate leaving, Principle Fukuhara comes strolling into the room.

“ Bakugō,” the man lets out an exasperated sigh, “Sit up please.”

Katsuki moves his arm to peek out and glare at the man, deliberately ignoring the instruction.

“I just finished talking to Ms Yuki and the school’s nurse. You broke Murata Taheiji’s nose. I hope you realise how serious this situation is and that there will be major consequences. Aldera Middle School does not tolerate this sort of violence on its grounds.”

Silence. That was a fucking lie. Slowly, Katsuki pulls himself upright, meeting the man’s hard stare with his own.

“Well, do you have anything to say for yourself and your disgraceful behaviour..”

Katsuki narrows his eyes, “The idiot was asking for it.”

Obviously, it's the wrong response going by how the skin tightens around the man’s eyes, “I see...I’m sorry you feel that way. Up until now, our school has been more than lenient. We have overlooked your shameful behaviour these last few weeks because we wanted to give you time to settle after going through such as tragic incident. However, I am afraid that this time you have gone too far. Your parents will be notified. You’ll see the school councillor. You will be staying back for after school detention. Since this is your first major incident we…”

“First?” He cuts the man off. He is sick of hearing the moron’s voice. “Hahaha and people say you don’t have a sense of humour.” He laughs an unpleasant laugh which increases in volume until he is almost shouting.

“What sort of shit hole are you running? Three years I’ve been beating up the dumb idiots that come here and now you decide to care. Why is that huh? Is it because I’m no longer going to put this shitty place on the map and become a famous hero! HA!”

He lets his voice quieten, sneering “I’ll never be a hero so you’re shit out of luck.” Finally saying it out loud is like throwing a bucket of water over the embers of an already struggling fire. It hurts deep in his chest. The expression of shocked disbelief is almost worth it.

“Thanks for proving what a worthless profession it is,” he finishes with another hash laugh, rage simmering under his skin. When he tries to stand and leave a hand lands on his shoulder, pushing him back down.

The principal, who still looks somewhat stunned at his sudden outburst, orders, “Sit back down Bakugō! I am far from finished.”

Why do people always feel the need to grab him. He is so fucking sick of everyone pulling and tugging on him, trying to control him and hold him down. Katsuki turns slowly, that simmering rage pulsing, running down his limbs. Pop pop pop go his hands. He feels as explosive fire gathering in behind his eyes and in his shadowy stare. It is not the dramatic, adrenaline-induced anger he had felt when preparing for the ally fight. No, this is a dark burning rage, fuelled by his growing resentment.

“Touch me again,” he growls, low and intimidating, “and I’ll kill you.”

The principal snatches his hand back like he has just been burnt. A poignant silence follows in the wake of his threat.

“Suspension,” the man says, swallowing, “You’re suspended. I’m calling your parents right now.” And is it just him or does he look genuinely worried? There is even a hint of fear in his wrinkled face. Katsuki takes vindictive joy in the achievement. Finally…finally the worthless morons are seeing him, truly seeing him and not whatever Bakugō -delusion they’d all cooked up in their heads.

#bnha #mha #boku no academia #my hero academia #bnha fanfic #MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH #Katsuki Bakugō #‘the Sludge Villain incident gone wrong’ aka Izuku dies #graphic descriptions of violence #angst #bakugou swears and gets into fights #coarse language #fanfiction #fanfic #something sad au

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thetwitchylife · 8 years

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hey i'm trying to write a story about a character with epilepsy. i'm not epileptic so i'm trying really hard to make his (partial) seizures accurate but i also don't want to romanticize them. what are some first hand experiences w partial seizures/can you have more than one type of seizure/how would you want epilepsy to be presented in a book? ik that's a lot of questions but i want it to be accurate and not make the character a charity case. would writing an epileptic character be overstepping?

I’m delighted to get this question! Getting info from folks who deal with epilepsy is exactly what authors should do. Go you!

Advice #0. DO NOT KILL THE EPILEPTIC CHARACTER. FOR ANY REASON. JUST DON’T.

1. Partial seizures describe a huge range of sensations and actions, so you can probably pick about four kinds of seizures that happen to your character.

-Most folks have many kinds of seizures (like me) but putting the full range and variety of simple or complex partial seizures might be too much. Check out the resources at the bottom of the page for more range.

-Realize that where the seizures originate will affect what kinds of seizures they have. I don’t know enough about the brain to tell you what kinds of seizures come from what part of the brain, though. Not a neurologist. Go find one, and ask them!

2. If it were up to me, I’d see epilepsy treated kind of like its own character. A character has quirks and needs and an origin story, and they interact with other characters. Think about:

-When did epilepsy come into your protag’s life? Were they born with it? How much does it interfere with their daily actions?

- Where did it come from? Was it the result of an illness, or a traumatic brain injury, or was it idiopathic (they don’t know, and probably never will know, where it came from)? There’s a lot of anger and blame associated with each kind- whoever caused the TBI, whatever caused (or didn’t prevent) the illness, or directionless anger/self-loathing for idiopathic epilepsy.

-Is it controlled by medication, partially or completely? A huge number of people never get their seizures completely under control, even with medication, implants, surgery, diet, acupuncture, or anything else they try. But even when it’s controlled fully, epilepsy interferes with someone’s life.

-How many people know about this character’s epilepsy? For a lot of folks, epilepsy holds a shit-ton of shame. People with epilepsy used to be forcibly sterilized. Epileptics were banned from marriage in Missouri until 1980. How would you feel, knowing that people like you were considered a social danger?

-Is the character conscious during their seizures, or not? Do they have any warning before their seizures? (Realize that “auras” are often not just floating lights- they could be a flash of fear or nausea, or smelling gasoline/cat pee, or tingly finger, whatever, and not everyone has them.)

-Do they know anyone with epilepsy? Do they have any friends post-diagnosis? Epilepsy is fucking ISOLATING, especially because you can’t drive to see friends who live outside of walking/bicycling distance, and people can get real jumpy around you.

3. Stuff that has bugged me about books that have had epileptic characters, that hopefully you can avoid, has been:

-Not having the daily stuff mentioned- taking meds, or freaking out because you forgot them, or dealing with insurance, etc.

-Not realizing how important your doctor/neurologist is in your life. If you have a good one, you KEEP them. I have a long-standing relationship with my neuro. She’s part-therapist, part-doctor, because for years I didn’t know anyone else with epilepsy, and she was the only person I could talk to about it. (Family gets very distressed when I talk about SUDEP.)

-Glossing over how complex meds are. Maybe they work, maybe they don’t. Maybe your med levels fluctuate during the day/month, maybe they interact with diet or stress or sleep. Just changing your meds takes over a month, and it’s the most stressful thing. Nobody likes it.

-Making this about “God’s grace” or something. Don’t even. If I have epilepsy, and we’re talking about the Christin God, then God gave me these seizures. Praying for God to take away my seizures is basically telling them that they screwed up. Rude. I tend to smile and nod when people tell me they’ll pray for me, then add their name to an internal list of “Morons to Avoid.”

-KILLING THE CHARACTER FOR THE ABLED CHARACTER TO GROW AS A PERSON. DO NOT- I REPEAT DO NOT- KILL THE EPILEPTIC CHARACTER.

4. Writing a character with epilepsy would not be overstepping. It would be a breath of fresh air- we have so few stories that include us, especially ones where we live through until the end, and dear god I live for those stories.

5. There are two kinds of partial seizures: simple partial and complex partial.

Simple partial seizures are seizures where your character is aware of what’s around them.

Complex partial seizures are when your character loses consciousness. Not convulsing or dropping to the floor, just blanked out.

Many people (like me) have both types. In fact, I’ll usually have several simple partial seizures mixed with complex partial seizures.

My usual complex partial seizure is:

-I lose consciousness. A few seconds later I regain consciousness, and my body is in roughly the same position, but during the seizure my body slumps down. This is usually fine, but is hazardous while crossing the road, cooking, or carrying something delicate. It comes with no warning.

-If I’m walking, then I keep walking, or I (semi-voluntarily) sit down. I generally lose consciousness halfway to the ground. I take my time standing up, because I feel very muzzy.

-When it’s a stronger seizure, I might wet myself. Wicked embarrassing, but the right combination of meds can stop it from happening. (It’s been months!)

-Afterwards I’m muzzy/foggy, cannot understand spoken language or speak, and have lost track of what I was doing before. After a few seconds/minutes, it comes back.

-Every time I seize, I kick my right leg. I didn’t know this until my roommate told me they’d noticed a “tell.”

My simple partials tend to be:

-I lose the ability to speak, lose facial expression, and open my mouth while blinking/closing my eyes. Sometimes I can raise on hand to give the “hold on a minute” gesture. I’ve been told that I look like I’m in pain- I’m not. It’s just muscular contractions.

-My vision just cuts out- I can’t see anything, and I feel confused and muzzy. When I see things again I’m clear enough to know that I’ve seized and tell folks that I’m fine, I just had a seizure.

-HUGE dizzy spells. Like, grab on to the wall and close your eyes. (I used to have these in college, it was intense. I’m on better meds now.)

Keep in mind: All of these vary in intensity and length. I might blank out for a millisecond, so the person I’m talking to doesn’t even notice. (Happened with my neurologist once.) I also might lose my awareness of anything outside my body for a full 30 seconds.

Also keep in mind: this is just me, one person. My seizures are all language-centric (The first thing to go is ALWAYS the ability to understand spoken language) because my seizures come from the part of my brain that controls language. (One area in the left Temporal lobe.)

Talk to other people. See what their epilepsy is like. What traits fit your narrative needs? And above all, DO NOT KILL THE TWITCHER.

And when it’s finished, tell us who you are so we can all read it! I’d totally read Supernatural Fanfic if it included an epileptic character, and I’d extra-read an original novel.

Resources: http://www.epilepsy.com/article/2016/12/2017-revised-classification-seizures

http://www.epilepsy.com/learn/types-seizures/simple-partial-seizures

http://www.epilepsy.com/learn/types-seizures/complex-partial-seizures

http://www.who.int/mediacentre/factsheets/fs999/en/

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courtneytincher · 5 years

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Putin Reminds Russians He Can Do Suppression

(Bloomberg Opinion) -- July 27 saw a new post-Soviet era record set in Moscow: 1,373 people were taken into custody following a day of protests. Meanwhile, jailed opposition leader Alexey Navalny suffered a strange “allergic reaction” after calling for the demonstrations. These developments were set in motion by something seemingly trivial: An election to Moscow’s city council. One of Russia’s weakest regional legislatures, it can’t even hold the capital’s mayor responsible for doing whatever he wants with the city budget.The disproportionate violence unleashed on the protesters – dozens were severely beaten – shows how deep the Kremlin’s paranoia runs. With the patriotic fervor inspired by the annexation of Crimea and other foreign adventures exhausted, President Vladimir Putin and his entourage have little to offer voters and clearly fear the largely directionless anger prevalent in Russian society. The city election is scheduled for September 8. Normally, it would be a tame affair. Five years ago, candidates backed by the pro-Putin United Russia party won 38 out of the 45 seats on a turnout of just 21%. This time, though, a number of candidates hostile to the Kremlin attempted to stand, among them some of Navalny’s close associates. (The corruption-fighter can’t run himself because of a previous conviction on what were, in my view, trumped-up charges of theft.)To run, an independent candidate needs to collect thousands of supporters’ signatures, which are then reviewed by the electoral commission. All the opposition candidates were denied a place on the ballot after their backers were deemed to be fake. This was despite the fact many hundreds of signatories were willing to testify that they had signed.This illegal act by the authorities was insulting in its jeering openness. Still, not too many Muscovites got excited about another rigged election. In July, the city empties for the vacation season. Last week, the rejected candidates managed to rally more than 20,000 people, a small crowd for a metropolis the size of Moscow.It was enough, though, to make the authorities lose their cool when Navalny took the floor at that rally and called on Muscovites to gather in front of the mayor’s office on July 27. This earned the opposition leader 30 days in jail for inciting an unsanctioned protest. Mayor Sergei Sobyanin cautioned residents against showing up, promising to put down any protests with force – a pledge kept by an unusually large contingent of riot police outside the mayor’s control. (They were part of the National Guard, commanded by former Putin bodyguard Viktor Zolotov.)Still, some 15,000 protesters roamed central Moscow for most of the day, shouting anti-Putin slogans and running intermittently into determined groups of riot police, who had clearly been ordered to take no pity on the mostly young crowd. Though the protest was peaceful, the record number of detentions filled every police station in town to overflowing, and rubber sticks were used without mercy.The crisis could have been resolved by allowing a few opposition activists to run for the city council. Perhaps that would have been Sobyanin’s instinct. In 2013, he went out of his way to make sure Navalny could run against him. The corruption fighter won 27% of the vote to the mayor’s 51%, a result Navalny unsuccessfully contested. This time, however, the decision to shut out the opposition at any cost appears to have been made in the Kremlin, which looks to have taken over the political management of the Moscow election.The violence and arrests were also likely to have been ordered by the Kremlin. Moscow police, who were also out in force, were visibly less eager than the National Guard. After a few attempts to pacify angry citizens in recent weeks, Putin seems determined to show the opposition the limits of what he will allow. Navalny, in particular, appears to have received a chilling warning. The day after the protest, he was hospitalized after suffering an apparent allergic reaction. In in a Facebook post, his doctor, Anastasia Vasilyeva, herself an opposition activist, voiced her suspicion that he had been poisoned.Obviously, the election of a few Kremlin opponents to the Moscow city council would have been no threat to Putin’s rule. Nor, for that matter, were the thousands of young people demanding their right to vote in fair elections. Moscow has seen bigger protests that have failed to displace Putin.The president, however, appears worried that a random spark could ignite a bigger fire. The country’s economy is projected to grow by just 1.2% this year, according to the Bloomberg consensus forecast. In June, Russians’ disposable incomes were down 0.2% on a year ago.There are clear indications that voters are angry. In June, Levada Center, the country’s last big independent pollster, reported that 27% would be willing to participate in protests against falling living standards – about twice the normal level – and 22% would join protests with political demands.Since Putin has no rosy vision to offer and no means to speed up growth in an economy dominated by corrupt, inefficient state-run companies, he has focused on showing Russians that protest won’t work and that his regime commands overwhelming force.With that goal in mind, provoking the relatively weak protests in Moscow may even benefit the Kremlin: Muscovites aren’t well-liked in the rest of the country, and the harsh police action got a lot of attention on the social networks. It’s a relatively low-cost way to show off the regime’s suppression potential. The flip side of such action, of course, is that it can also fuel the vague irritation many Russians feel. Even if they don’t rise up at the sight of some young people being beaten up – as Ukrainians did in 2013 – the Kremlin’s message that protesting is pointless is a dangerous one in Russia, too. There won’t a revolution over a rigged city council election, but Putin is playing with fire. Suppression is never a long-term answer.To contact the author of this story: Leonid Bershidsky at [email protected] contact the editor responsible for this story: Edward Evans at [email protected] column does not necessarily reflect the opinion of the editorial board or Bloomberg LP and its owners.Leonid Bershidsky is Bloomberg Opinion's Europe columnist. He was the founding editor of the Russian business daily Vedomosti and founded the opinion website Slon.ru.For more articles like this, please visit us at bloomberg.com/opinion©2019 Bloomberg L.P.

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courtneytincher · 5 years

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Putin Reminds Russians He Can Do Suppression

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