#side note why is this post circulating again

[toriaaniin]

A Blob and a Synchronicity

Decoding the Stroller Photo, June 17 energy, and the truth that refuses to stay hidden.

When I made the case the other day that last week’s loud social media activity was a deliberate misdirection — a strategy to pull eyes away from Luke, Nicola, et al. — I briefly mentioned the Stroller Photo. I assumed the image, which had just started circulating the night before (June 19), was already familiar to most of my readers. As it turns out, it wasn’t. I received many comments asking, “What stroller photo?” (link to my June 20 post is below).

Since I initially planned to not write about it, I directed readers to a few other blogs where I understood some thoughtful commentary and analysis could be found.

But after reflecting on the interest — and in response to your questions — I’ve decided to publish the photo here, along with some macro-level thoughts from me. Be aware that what I think might differ from others who are also analyzing this image. And yet, there will likely be overlaps too. Take what resonates. This is a photo that invites multiple interpretations — and that’s part of what makes it so compelling.

A perfect example of a differing viewpoint can be found in my friend ZombieGirl’s excellent post McGuffin or Chekhov’s Smoking Gun?, where she suggests that Nicola’s stylist Aimee is pictured. Me? I don’t see it. Hmmmm??? Let me think on that.

It's always a good idea to read multiple opinions before forming your own!

Here’s the original photo, which was posted as part of a carousel by Mariead Tyers on June 7, 2025. We know that Nicola liked the carousel of images, however we don't know when. While we can only assume that she saw this particular images (second in the carousel), I personally believe that she did.

Our group chat — led fearlessly by ZG — discovered the image on June 17, ten days after it was originally posted. We were honestly amazed that the Lukola FBI hadn’t picked it up and circulated it earlier! As a group, we chose to hold onto it, take our time analyzing and researching, and allow the photo to surface organically within the fandom. That’s also why I didn’t write about it at first — I wanted it to breathe without my take influencing people’s initial reactions.

But here’s something I absolutely love: we discovered the stroller photo on June 17! You might recall that I wrote a post last Thursday about Luke’s new Instagram profile photo — which originally appeared on his grid on June 17, 2024. Why is that date special? Because Nicola’s current profile photo also comes from a grid post she shared on June 17, 2024. How incredible is that synchronicity?! Never — and I mean never — ignore patterns like this. They are not coincidences. There is meaning here, especially for Luke and Nicola. I just know it. 💙💙

Here's my blog post about June 17 💙💙

Zooming into the photo reveals why we call this the Stroller Photo. A few elements to note:

Location: This was taken in Dún Laoghaire, Dublin.

Louisa Harland was tagged in the image, and I believe that’s her on the right side of Nicola, partially hidden by Alice. I could be wrong; she could be the person taking the photo. The depth perception in this image is tricky (likely due to distance and zoom), which makes the man bending over and the woman on the far right holding a phone appear closer than they are. It's very possible they aren’t part of Nicola and Louisa’s group. As for the woman to Nicola’s left — her gaze seems directed at the phone-holder, but again, hard to say. Nicola is looking toward Louisa. You don’t have to agree with me.

Alice is the woman in the green swimsuit. Other blogs have identified who she is relative to the group (primarily Mairead & Louisa) — I recommend visiting those blogs for details. They’ve done the work and deserve the credit.

The photo (bottom-right) is from Alice’s IG account and suggests this photo was taken on March 18. Personally, I’m not planting a flag in the sand here, but Alice’s post compellingly supports that date.

Jake was busy with his play in Sheffield on March 18, which fits with him not being in the photo. Works for me!

There’s also been some speculation that this setting was too public for Luke to have been present. I’m open to that theory, too.

And then there’s the photo directly above. The pink outline shows where an edit was made: before (or as) Mairead posted the image, she selected an edit tool and created a black blob directly over the stroller — effectively masking the baby inside. The blob even overlaps a portion of Nicola’s hair. To me, this wasn’t accidental. It was a purposeful choice to hide what was there.

I’ve seen some say the child might belong to Louisa, or perhaps Nicola’s sister Clodagh (who wasn't even present in this image). As I’ve said multiple times: take in what you find here — and elsewhere — and draw your own conclusions. That said, I’ll add this: if the photo was taken on March 18, then BN would have been around 1.5 months old. At that age, a stroller is usually in the cot position, facing the parent — in this case, Nicola. Louisa and Clodagh’s children, by contrast, are older and would face forward in a seated position. If this was their child, a black blob to mask the stroller’s contents wouldn’t have been necessary because the contents wouldn't have been facing Nicola.

So that’s what I’ve got for you.

A photo found ten days late. A synchronicity tied to June 17. A black blob where a baby might be. Whether you call it a breadcrumb, a quiet reveal, Chekhov's Smoking Gun, or heck... even a McGuffin, one thing is clear: this story isn’t over — and neither is the truth waiting beneath the surface.

Aaniin Xxx

[nerves-nebula]

Not that convoluted by our standards tbh this is just how we talk to each other. Half the shit we say is nonsense roundabout ways of referring to things

my brother asked why my voice was so deep and I said I’d give him 3 guesses, and he said “You doin the little flip-flop? The little switcheroo?” and it took me like 10 seconds to realize that was his Polite Way of asking if i was transitioning

[mochiwonz]

─── JEALOUSY ୨୧

PAIRING. idol fem!reader x idol bf!enhypen maknae line CONTENT. headcanons , fluff <3 , petnames + nicknames , cursing NOTE. thank u to the anon who requested this cute idea :D i hope u all enjoyyy !!

[ 💬 ] ... ️ in which fans start shipping you with another idol !

SUNOO.

you're scrolling on twitter, as you would every other day. as an idol, you loved seeing what people had to say about you— whether it be negative or positive. unbeknownst to you, sunoo had also been scrolling on twitter and saw something on his timeline that he really didn't like, at all. it was a post about you allegedly being in a relationship with another male idol. and shit, he never thought he'd be a jealous boyfriend, but he definitely is now. you're startled by the sound of your bedroom door opening— you were the only one home right now... right? you quickly assumed it was one of your members until you heard the person's voice, it was sunoo. "hi pretty girl" he says as he plops down on the side of your bed. you quickly sit up and shuffle over to him, and he engulfs you in a warm hug— the sunoo special. "hi pretty boy" you say, giggling a little. as he kisses the top of your head, you hear him gulp. "have you seen the uhm... rumors? about you and ____?" he asks with a slight frown on his face. you quickly sit up and look at him, you were very confused right now. "someone is spreading rumors about me and ____? on where?" "twitter" he replies, hand brushing through his silky hair. you notice how his demeanor is a bit gloomy, and you kind-of think you have an idea as to why. you bring your hands to cup his face and gently move his face so that he's looking right at you. "sun, you don't have to be jealous. you know that i don't even know the guy— and that i love you like crazy, right?" you tell him in a firm yet gentle tone of voice, and he can't help but smile. you knew him so well, and just everything about you, god, he loves you so much. "how'd you know i was jealous..." he mumbles and you quickly squish his cheek— something you loved doing. "i'm your girlfriend baby" you say as you peck him on the nose. without another second wasted, he quickly pulls you closer and once again, engulfs you in his embrace. "indeed you are, pretty girl"

JUNGWON.

jungwon had always told you he wasn't a jealous person. that was the truth, though. well, until rumors about you and ____ started circulating all over social media. and what made it worse for jungwon was how fans were really liking you two together. he had never felt jealousy before, at least not like this. of course he trusted you, but just seeing you even pictured with another man as a "cute couple" really didn't sit well with him. "have you seen the rumors?" he blurts out randomly as you two are lying down together on his bed, his arm wrapped around your waist. "mhm" you reply. of course you'd seen it, but you didn't really care. you didn't even know ____, and as long as you knew the truth— you didn't care. "what do you think about it?" he asks curiously. "nothing, really. i don't even know the guy" "okay, cool" he says, but there's something different in his tone of voice. he sounds... nervous, almost a little bit jealous. he hears you giggle to yourself and he shifts nervously. he trusted you, of course— but all your giggling made him a teeny bit suspicious. but before he could question you, you quickly position yourself so that you're facing him and intertwine your guy's hands. "wonnie, you know i'm your girlfriend, right? these are just rumors baby" you tell him while looking him in the eyes, his pretty boba eyes were always so pretty to stare at. he was just so cute, you'd never want to be with anyone else other than him. you wanted him to know that. this was the first time you'd seen jungwon like this, unsure, nervous, and jealous. "it just frustrates me a little" he starts off, "i wish i could just tell everyone that you're my girlfriend so they could shut the fuck up" he says with complete honesty, and you laugh. he brings his hand up to your cheek and caresses it with his thumb, staring at you with complete heart eyes. "i'd only ever feel like this for you baby. i didn't even know i could be somewhat jealous. guess it's the y/n effect" you lean into his hand and melt a little at his words. "i love you so much my wonnie" you say, and he gives you a cute peck on the lips. "i love you too, my pretty y/n."

NI-KI.

you and ni-ki had been caught on many dates by sasaengs and others, but were always labeled as friends. the public just thought you two gave off friend vibes, and considered every date as a friendly hang out. as long as you two weren't being showered in negative comments, you both didn't mind. however, a post that was titled ' idol y/n and idol ____ are caught on a date ' had caught ni-ki's attention. he was never that protective over you, let alone jealous. he trusted you 110% and vice versa. but halfway through reading the article, he had to exit out of the tab. because honestly, he felt really jealous right now. not that he didn't trust you, but that fans thought that you and ____ were dating and just assumed that you and ni-ki were just friends. there were already so many posts on tiktok, instagram, twitter, and youtube about you and ____ supposed relationship and how "cute" you two were together. he had to get off of social media, people were starting to piss him off. luckily, you both didn't have schedules today— so you had already planned to go over to his dorm. he didn't realize you were already on the way until he heard a knock at the front door. quickly realizing that it was you, he sprung up out of his bed and rushed to the front door. he really wanted, no— he needed to see you. the door quickly swung open and before you could even blink, he was already hugging you, arms tightly wrapped around your waist. "ki—" you're about to say something but he quickly cuts you off. "princess, you're my girl, yeah?" he asks and the jealousy is obvious. "you're jealous aren't you" you ask, teasing him a little. he looks down at you and boops your nose. he loves the way you look up at him, he realized he couldn't bear to see you with another man. "and if i am?" you giggle at his truthful response, he could never hide his emotions from you— but that's what made him even more perfect for you. "you cutie, of course i'm your girl. those rumors are baseless and trust me, the photoshop goes crazy" you tell him, laughing towards the end of your statement. he smiles at your assuring words, yeah— he wouldn't be able to let go of you, ever. you were his girl, and his girl only.

please like, reblog, and comment if u enjoyed :3 u can find my other works here !

© mochiwonz ― all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, or translate my work.

[freyanistics]

The fetishization of Hobie Brown

Side note: This post is not intended to start up the age discourse that surrounds Hobie. I am not going to get into it as this argument/debate comes up every so often and really doesn’t prove anything on either side you are on. I’m not dissuading anyone from absorbing any content of Hobie and saying it’s problematic EXCEPT for the things I’m pointing out in this post. If you see Hobie as a minor, that’s fine. If you view him as an adult, that’s also fine. Until the directors come forward and confirm his canonical age I am not going to bring up the same facts that is brought up whenever his age comes to discussion. This is just me bringing up a reoccurring issue I’ve noticed that doesn’t get too addressed by the community (and when it does it’s often pushed to the side)

The fetishization and inherently the oversexualization of Hobie Brown is not only problematic but also harmful. Black men being fetishized has been going on for decades since slavery times. I’m not going to go too deep into the history but if you’re interested this creator has a very good video discussing it.

With Hobie Brown being a darkskin black man that is part of the punk scene and comes off with a “rough” exterior you’re going to have people put stereotypes on him. Despite how he’s portrayed in the movie I’ve seen people headcanon him as this cold person who wouldn’t care about his partner’s feelings or come off as a womanizer that sleeps with a lot of partners without a care in the world. He fucks rough and is aggressive while the reader is this innocent person pulled under his spell. That’s where some of the problem delves with him being portrayed as this aggressive and sex deviant who doesn’t care about his partner(s) feelings. It’s a stereotype a lot of (mainly non black) people see black men as.

Despite the fact that Hobie in the movie shows to deeply care for his friends, even going as far as helping Miles who he didn’t even know up until now. He’s shown to be gentle when handling Mayday. Yet people still want to paint him as the polar opposite.

Take Miles G for instant. I’ve seen him get the same treatment with him being painted as a “gangster” who is aggressive and your typical gang lord despite him only having five minute screen time. While yes from that little time he does seem to be the much colder version of Miles Morales painting him out to be a thug goes into that dangerous fantasy a lot of people see black men. People (again mainly non blacks) view black men as this dominant and powerful man who is always aggressive in and out the bedroom.

The same can be said for Miguel who even the screenwriters have written him as “animalistic” and “feral”. Writing him off more as some beast than a human being.

Circulating back to Hobie there’s nothing wrong with finding him attractive the problem delves if you’re headcanoning him or viewing him as your stereotypical “hood” boyfriend who is deprived of any other emotion except for anger, jealousy, or this sex god who will beat up people for even looking at his partner. When we make these harmful stereotypes about black characters it starts to trickle down to irl and how we view actual people.

And we end up seeing shit like this on the daily. I don’t even have to explain why this is problematic.

All in all Hobie Brown is much more than just a pretty face. He’s a young black man living in an oppressive fascist society that he’s actively fighting against. He deserves to be treated more than just a sexy conveniently attractive guy but a much more complex character who’s backstory in atsv is still a mystery. If you’re just gonna sexualize him 24/7 and not see him anything outside of that you’re weird, and you’re even weirder if you headcanon with “he’s ugly but he got that big dick 🤪.”

[jeonscatalyst]

Her post time back in 2023 seems to be only after they were already spotted out and pics were circulating. And today it seems she has a side account as a Jm solo with alot of followers and this one is her personal account. I do think Jikook went flew somewhere together, but not sure why she'd pretend, if she's been army since 2013. Also Not sure how accurate this new information is tho. This just seems to be the claims going around right now, obviously by Jikook antis trying to discredit her. But they did share screenshots.

Hi anon,

I did a bit of digging and came across the 34k account that’s supposedly linked to her. I’m not sure why she would present herself as a local if she isn’t but that definitely raises a few questions about her story. I mean she might have her reasons but the whole thing feels weird.

I can’t recall the exact timeline from 2023, but from what I do remember, multiple people claimed to have sighted Jikook in New York around that time. One person even posted a video on Instagram. I remember the girl who met them at the store too where they bought Pizza. When she wrote her story many people doubted her too until we literally watched it on AYS. What I’m unclear about is whether Emily’s post came before or after those other sightings. I tried checking again, and noticed that people were asking her for pictures in the replies, so I really can’t say for sure if any pics had been circulating then or not.

I also don’t know why she would lie about seeing them because she must know the whole thing could blow up in her face….but then again, who really knows? At this point, I think it’s best to take the information with a grain of salt. Whatever the truth is, we’ll find out eventually, so it’s not that big of a deal.

It’s also worth noting that while she may have lied about being a local, that doesn’t automatically mean she lied about seeing them. It’s possible she chose to present herself that way to avoid backlash ? maybe she thought people wouldn’t take her seriously or would dismiss her and call her a liar if they knew she was a Jimin fan. I’m not sure, but that could have influenced how she framed things.

[nanasrealities]

⚡️ : "talking 'bout you, talking 'bout us."

From your lovely ask list! I love the fun gossip 👀

𝓢HIFTING ⟢ ASK GAME 𖦹

my beautiful, lovely, amazing mutual !! thank you for the ask ૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა

⚡️ :: rumors — what are some rumors going around about you? any recent scandals about dating someone? how do celebrity news outlets react to the rumors? how about fans?

CIRCULATING — since dream academy will only just end once I shift there , a perfect world would mean no rumors going around just yet. But alas, most of our fans so far are kpop fans—the messy kind, of course—therefore it's only natural for them to find a problem with something about the final line up, even before we were chosen.

001. " My Brutally Honest Opinion on Each Dream Academy Contestant So Far..." ▹ YouTube 126.9k views

This video was messy, to say the least. To summarize: the creator went on a 30 minute rant about each contestant on the show, giving their very honest opinion about us based on our first appearances. It was posted a couple hours after the first episode aired and to say they were quick with it would be an understatement. I find myself on Twitter during one of my breaks from training and I see me—quite literally—at the center of a discussion between viewers of DA: "Did Yuuna really deserve her spot on Dream Academy?" ... According to the post, "Yuuna doesn't have enough experience in the [music] industry to participate in a show, a survival show out of everything too ... She should just stay an actress or a model or whatever instead of "joining" Dream Academy because it'll just be embarrassing when the judges stop accepting her briberies and she's one of the first-" The thread was lengthy but why I destroy my peace for people—twitter fans especially? I couldn't bring myself to care enough anyways.

002. "Aespa's Giselle and Dream Academy's Contestant Yuuna Komatsu Share Posts on Instagram, Sparking Rumors Between Netizens: "This Can Only Mean One Thing In Korea.." " ▹ Soompi.com (092623)

side note: in this reality, AESPA debuted in 2022 I wanted their concept instead of 2020.

This rumor was honestly so fun to watch . It all started when Giselle shared a photo on her Instagram wearing a white lace tank top (like the one in the photo) and a backwards cap. It was already hinted that Giselle and I had been friends since their debut era, so I didn't think much when I posted a selfie of myself wearing the same clothing pieces. Oh, how I was so wrong.. According to Soompi and Netizens , "Giselle had been in 'girlfriend' mode since Yuuna was revealed to be a contestant on Dream Academy, even going as far as commenting on posts she would personally share on the survival shows account." Honestly, we both thought it was stupid, since we were just really close friends. Then again, that photo definitely lead to a chain of events : random photos with the other's shadow peeking in the background , subtle mentions of each other during work hours, and ...questionable moments between the two of us were discovered and theories were spreading quickly. I'm pretty sure Netizens are currently sitting here practicing their shocked reactions while waiting for Dispatch to finally confirm the rumors TT.

OTHER NOTABLE RUMORS ::

003. "Is DA's Yuuna Connected to Japan's Royal Family?"

004. "Yuuna is a Robot — 10 Different Careers Before The Age of 20?!"

005. "10 Minutes of Manon's Beef with Yuuna During Dream Academy"

⤳ mind you, this started after Popstar Academy was released, not a reliable source.

[mischiefmaker615]

Devil is a Lie (2 of 3)

Song/Inspiration: Tommy Richman – "DEVIL IS A LIE"

Summary: Loki is king. he's taken over Midgard with Stark Tower's as his throne. the heroes have fallen, most captured and utilized for his entertainment. But for Loki's tastes, there had to be some.. adjustments. Will revenge taste the same if they were females?

Note: WARNINGS STILL APPLY

~PART ONE

Steve’s heart pounded in his chest, his eyes wide and moving as fast as his muscles who stayed tied to the posts securely by mere magic. He was spread eagle, humiliated by merely wearing his tattered shirt that now hung largely amongst his new body.

His female body.

He still couldn’t believe it.. he knew Loki was cruel, capable of many things and he feared much of what ever had happened to Stark- who still hasn’t returned from when the Chitauri took him. yet he couldn’t exactly guess on why Loki decided to change his form until he found himself laid out on the bed. Originally, he thought it was to weaken his male form- his strength making most situations easy to escape.

Not now.

Another shiver ran up his spine, the temperature spreading across his exposed flesh where he was stripped from wearing anything below his hips. Truly, he was afraid to look at himself. After Loki had transformed him- having at least a dozen of his soldiers hold him down to do so- he dared not see what had truly become of him. from bits and glances, he knew enough to know what he had become.

His legs began to twitch, blood having a hard time circulating by his ankles that also stayed tied and spread to the bed posts. His throat was soar as well, having practically used ever negative word In the English language- despite his feelings towards cussing but.. when the time had come where total domination lay in the hands of a monster, many morals became broken. He couldn’t yell anymore anyway, his non stop verbal insults had been silences not to long ago with one of those Asgardian mouth guards that acted as a gag.

Silenced, and bound and darkness all around him except for where he was.

His eyes sharply moved back to glare up at one of the Chitauri guards, whom got itself very much comfortable while waiting at his side and continued to run a claw up and down the inner part of his thigh. The feeling was uncomfortable and threatened to be painful, making Steve once again flex to try to free his legs and gain some type of inch to shut his limbs but with a failed attempt, gained another laugh from the Alien.

‘’enough! - we do not touch what is not ours.’’

A defensive yet commanding voice rang out from behind the bed- it having been set in the middle of the room. The voice by now was familiar enough to know it was Loki, his boots steadily and swiftly coming closer while the alien soldiers submissively bowed their heads and stepped aside.

Steve’s eyes hardened, hoping it alone would show how he was truly feeling while they rose up to meet Loki’s awaiting ones- who stood looking down at him from behind the headboard. They were gazing at each other upside down, Loki’s forearms resting upon the wood while he smirked down at the blond before him.

‘’the form suits you Rogers, much better than Stark- but he faired not to disappoint in the end.’’ He smirked, his eyes flicking back at the restrains as if to make sure they were still secure.

Although Loki had confidence in his magic- and a handful of soldiers before the portal had been voluntarily shut- Rogers was a super solider. Even in his female form, he was combat trained and strong still. It was a bit of a struggle to contain him, Loki even debating on getting the Hulk involved but, in the end, he rendered Steve unconscious and took the opportunity to change him them.

His reaction had been glorious, quite amusing how much language had left his-now- famine body and his dainty hands searching himself as if it were a mere costume he could tear off. He had long, blond locks. His body slim yet toned and sculpted. Quite attractive, if one didn’t know what he truly was and sought out a female partner.

‘’Stark has merely learned the valuable lesson on how women should be treated. A mere.. taste of his own medicine, one I intend on making sure he thoroughly understands until I deem it set in his simple little brain. You, on the other hand, seem to know how exactly how to treat the female heart, dare I suppose you’ve still never have been offered a chance to treat the female flesh.’’ Loki seemed to tsk, almost seeming to pity Steve’s virgin state while he slowly moved himself around the bed and to the side, a simple wave of the hand sending the Chitauri elsewhere in the room before he sat beside Rogers.

‘’are you a virgin Steve?” he smirked, his voice gentle and almost a whisper. One would almost think he were speaking to an actual woman- a lover, compassionate before steps moved forward.

Regardless, Steve’s eyes hardened while he thrashed an arm, almost as if he had been attempting to swing and punch him before the restrains once again did their job. A frustrated grunt left his throat, any word being muffled by the Asgardian gag while Loki chuckled.

‘’there is no shame in it darling, most of the time, beings tend to take things slower when they aren’t sure what they want. I suppose in your lifetime, you seemed to make it unclear to them. You’ve lacked the guide, the helping hand to get there.. that Winter Solider seemed to have failed you in that department as well.’’

Another attempted punch was made, Steve trying to raise his upper body to at least head butt Loki but was far to restrained to make the action anything but painful before he sunk to the bed again with flared, hatful breath and merely a laugh from Loki.

‘’do not fear soldier, how could one do onto others if one isn’t experienced, themselves?” Loki questioned, his tone seeming to calm as if one was having a non-lewd conversation over tea while a slender hand began to run up Steve’s clothed stomach, hiking some of the fabric as if went while Loki’s eyes moved to follow his own fingertips.

His touch made Steve flinch, trying to stray away from the stranger’s touch and the strange feeling that came with it that seemed to be far more sensitive than his original form. The hate seemed to have momentarily been replaced with confusion on his face, looking down while Loki moved his hand to gently grab at one of his breasts over his oversized shirt and slowly began to knead it.

‘’I’d say by your deliciously little sensitive reactions Rogers, it seems we’ll have to do some exploring. It would seem for you, embarrassment will be far more amusing than pain. In the end, it all comes down to submission.’’ Loki whispered, his eyes having flicked up to Steve’s who watched Loki’s unwanted hand grip and massage with wide, fearful eyes of the whole thing.

‘’of course, it all depends on the woman. Some wish for slow and sensual, while others seek out quick and rough actions. What’s pleasure without a little pain?” Loki taught before skillfully and harshly tweaked one of Steve’s nipples over the fabric, causing him to cry out and arch his back automatically up into Loki’s hand. ‘’good boy..’’ Loki praised, suddenly raising himself to get on top of the bed while Steve’s eyes watched with his growing panic.

Loki moved himself to straddle Steve’s hips, not necessarily giving any pressure down upon him but just enough to where he could hunch over his spread body and move both his hands now to both of Steve’s breasts. Upon these actions, Rogers began to struggle again, squirming under the god whom insisted on groping and kneading at his mounds.

‘’do be pleased with what I have given you Captain,’’ Loki smirked, his voice a bit husky with his own growing lust where his own magic seemed to be convincing him that this was all real. ‘’whomever I decide to gift you to- perhaps to everyone like your Iron Idiot, I no doubt they will treat you with a bit more care for what you have than what you lack.’’ He spoke, his hips seeming to sink down ever so slightly to start a slow grind against his pelvis, completely ignoring the muffling curses and pleas from the women below him.

‘’then again, men can be vicious animals and sometimes break their toys if list blinds them enough.’’ Loki reminded, his eyes having watched his hands grip at Steve’s chest, watching even through fabric how well they squish and move at his movements before Loki’s growing distraction drew his attention to begin moving down his body finally.

Steve’s heart was racing, his muscles sore and cramping while whatever binds that held him seemed to be digging into his skin. His eyes were wide, rage and panic mixing together while his voice continued to get sore with all of his inaudible shouting. If anything, his pleas only seemed to spur Loki on whom now looked down upon him on his knees with one on either side of Steve’s spread thighs.

‘’beginning is quite favorited when I bed women, though fear is not uncommon. Especially once they see what I have to give.’’ Loki smirked, cockiness was in no short supply while he held eye contact with Steve and brought out cock.

Steve tried not to look but it was almost impossible- his eyes looking down to what Loki had brought out and automatically tried shutting his legs. He was indeed a god- and there was no way in hell it would fit comfortably- not that Loki would allow that.

‘’man or woman Rogers, although I give you the gift of my lessons in which you’ve been deprived of involving women, you are still indeed my enemy.’’ Loki tsked, as if he had no choice in the matter while a hand began to stroke himself slowly, his eyes never leaving Steve’s to try to drink up every single reaction he could pull.

‘’that being said, pleasure is not what I intend on giving you.. not completely.’’ He told him slowly, his eyes narrowing while he moved his free hand between Steve’s legs, watching how his eyes widened and followed it down before he jerked at a sensitive feeling Loki applied, making him draw his head back and laugh.

‘’you are in a women’s body now Steve, enjoy it’’ he reassured between laughs, his single fingertip drawing a lazy circle against his clit where Steve began to squirm against the unfamiliar feeling and naturally tried to get away from it. ‘’who knows,’’ Loki smirked, his eyes flicking down to his hand that pleasured him before looking back at Steve. ‘’your body might find a way to enjoy my intentions. You have my permission to cum at any time while I take you, it might be glorious to top your humiliation.’’

Steve’s eyes widened while he began crying out muffled pleas, his begging falling on deaf ears while Loki began to stroke his tip against his slit, his eyes fluttering closed at the sensation while he groaned in pleasure, almost louder than Steve’s cries. ‘’let this be a clue Rogers, I hear relaxing yourself makes things all the more easier.’’

Suddenly in one swift motion, Loki pushed himself in- all the way to the hilt. Steve cried out, his body jerking while his back arched and eyes rose up to the ceiling. Loki planted his palms flat against the mattress, right beside Steve’s head to ensure he could watch all of the reactions he could muster while he immediately began to start a slow yet steady rhythm.

‘’gods..’’ Loki moaned, his eyes fluttering while he smiled down almost lovingly. ‘’I almost want to take my time with you.. perhaps I should, I’m sure you won’t have anything to say against it. If you do, feel free to speak up.’’ He mocked, almost making himself laugh while he began to quick, relishing the friction Steve unintentionally added with his squirming to try to find some sort of adjustment while he squeezed his eyes shut.

It stung- it hurt like hell.. is this what women felt? -no.. that is what foreplay was for, in which in his new body, received very little. The only amount he received was to ensure Loki enjoyed himself- and only himself. This was a lesson, a punishment, revenge, in the only sick twisted way he knew how. Steve knew how to treat women- whether he had the chance to or not.. this was utterly wrong..

To his own horror, he noticed the pain began to get a bit less painful, a strange feeling beginning to build in his lower region and nerves where he tried to focus on anything else. It was difficult to even do, his body bouncing up and down by Loki’s administrations where he came down just to meet his cock. The bed made a creaking sound and his binds tightened in his movements while Loki groaned and panted. He was in his own little universe, purely lost in his fantasy, Steve wondered if he even remembered it was him he was fucking.. perhaps he did, perhaps he didn’t care.

Loki’s fingers curled into the sheets below them both, his thrusts getting harsher and thorough while he panted down and gazed into the female’s eyes. They were pleading.. yes.. she wanted this.. she enjoyed this.. gods she was beautiful.. Loki’s hand quickly grabbed the middle of ‘her’ shirt before ripping it off, tossing the shreds behind him while the cold air welcomed the flesh to a peak.

Steve gasped at the harsh action, feeling his skin shiver at the cold but Loki’s thrusts made sure to keep him feeling nothing else. His head thrashed from side to side, trying to focus on ignoring the tightened bundle of nerves just where Loki’s hand had been a moment ago. What did he do to him? another sort of spell? Was he forcing him to enjoy this? His cock seemed to rub against this upper part of him it seemed to help grow the sensation he seemed to get when he jacked himself off in the past- no.. oh gods no.. he was going to make him cum..

Loki buried his face between Steve’s breasts, a hand cupping at the side of one of them to press them more firmer against him while he groaned in pleasure. With the tilt of his hips, Loki made sure to grind his pelvis down with each thrust, intentionally grinding against Steve’s clit whom seemed to be reacting perfectly to his actions. Squirming and seeming to be teary eyed while he mustered everything he had to try to get away, but his magic was to great.

With wide eyes, Steve began to pant as well, feeling his body dare to rise up and meet Loki’s thrusts while he raised his head to smirk down at him. ‘’norms that’s right Rogers.. enjoy it.. cum for me.. cum for your king..’’

His voice was of a seductive command while Steve tried to tune him out- the action impossible while Loki began to nibble on his ear, making sure to pull him face back to be able to hear his dirty words whenever he tried to escape.

There was no escape.

With another muffle, Steve let out a cry of fear, shock and overwhelming pleasure while he suddenly felt an orgasm wash over him, arching his body up while his muscles tensed and his breath hitched. All he could hear was Loki’s cruel laugh and the pain that followed where Loki harshly thrust harder, enjoying how his cock was being milked while he began chasing his own orgasm.

Steve’s face was red, tears falling down his cheeks that only ended up being soaked up by Loki’s tongue before he felt his jaw being grabbed and turned to look up into Loki’s eyes. His eyes were cruel, demanding and dark while they stared down into Steve’s humiliated eyes that still plead for him to stop this.

‘’how fascinating if the famous Captain America were to be the one to bare my heir.’’ Loki smirked, watching the horror in Steve’s eyes- which seemed to do the trick before Loki felt himself finally cum inside him with a moan.

His head raised up, eyes closed as he relished his orgasm and kept pumping inside, ensuring that the Solider got every single drop before he stilled himself, catching his breath before he looked down at Rogers.

Steve panted, emotion seeming lost in his eyes where he stayed limp and breath shallow. Loki didn’t seem to care, now confidently pulling out with a smirk before he moved a hand to play with Roger’s bottom lip while some of the Chitauri soldiers neared to be ready to collect him.

 ‘’you make a good fuck darling, perhaps I’ll keep you for myself. You have so much more to learn after all.’’

Note: all parts can be found on my Masterlist! Tag List: @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @blitzy93

[sgiandubh]

Sasnak City - a different view

I will never encourage you enough to read the whole comments' thread of a post you liked. Otherwise, it's blink and you'll miss it, as I almost missed the only feedback of the Sasnak City event we have on this side of the spectrum: @rosfrank's. She graciously agreed to let me repost them and I truly thank her for the kindness.

Her comments were made under two different posts, so I collated them and vetted their content as much as I could, given the unprecedented context of the SAG-AFTRA strike and the scarcity of details. I did not watch the recap on Instagram, because I am not a fan of the format.

I had no idea Sasnak City was a consistent partner of the Camp Encourage for autistic children project. At least since 2020, as a very superficial Google search shows:

...in 2020, with RR...

... in 2022....

What is Camp Encourage?

This:

Do you have any idea of what it is to be the mother of an autistic child? I don't have this honor. I have never been through the stress and the pain of looking for the right solution, for the good therapist. I never had to swallow my impotent tears and fight with the angel, fruitlessly asking myself why did it happen to me.

I can assure you that career, money and the white picket fence house which mortgage you just paid off do not matter. Not when you wait dejected, with your well-garnished checkbook and no hope in sight, until the good doctor will finally see you. Not when your child is a desperately inaccessible fortress. Not when you tell yourself you just can't take it anymore and yet miraculously find out that yes, you eventually can, over and over and over again.

Before judging, you might want to take a moment.

Side note: the man who supposedly is not good with kids interacted with the organizer's autistic son. On stage (try and take an autistic person out of their comfort zone, anyone?). Oh. What an inconvenient truth, again.

Different figures circulate. I think this is pretty close to reality and also to the 'small and personal fan convention format'. Not sure it made anybody rich overnight, after you deduce all the costs - part of proceeds went to the above charity, anyways. Zealots would like more transparency, perhaps. With which moral authority?

Second bone of contention and a particularly unsavory one, at that, the disrespect of the SAG-AFTRA's strike rules:

What was I telling you, the other day?

As for the limbo, I cannot believe no one bothered to look around a bit for confirmation. On Facebook, for example:

They did their due diligence homework. This announcement was posted on July 14, 2023, with a solidarity with the strike hashtag to boot. Propaganda? Hypocrisy? Oh, give me a break. It is legally impeccable.

There you go. No mention of the show anywhere - check. Screened questions - check. Only the SS paraphernalia (pics, etc) supplied - check. Books still ok for autographs (at S's discretion to go ahead or not, which means SAG-AFTRA is ok with, by the way) - check. Make lemonade when life gives you lemons and 'be creative' - check.

Where is the problem? Why certain sleuthing skills suddenly vanish when it's about formulating a balanced, reasonable POV?

Let me guess. It's all about the "go away, ugly socks, your story sucks" syndrome. Oh.

You'd wish, duckies. You'd wish.

I am not these people's lawyer. Playing Atticus Finch completely ceased to interest me sometime around 1998 AD. I even doubt we can stand each other IRL, for reasons. But I am not discussing people, here. I am discussing and debunking a homespun web of self-righteous lies.

Thank you, @rosfrank. Your gesture was generous and very, very brave.

[lindsaywesker]

Good morning!  I hope you slept well and feel rested?  Currently sitting at my desk, in my study, attired only in Blue Towelling Robe No. 1, enjoying my first cuppa of the day.  Welcome to the weekend! 

Wow!  Here we are again: Friday!  Where did that week go?  No, seriously, where did that week go?

Personal grooming went very well.  I am now ready for all the selfies on Sunday!

I recorded two TikTok videos yesterday but deleted the second one; too controversial!

It was 31 degrees in beautiful downtown Harlesden yesterday.  A record high in the UK for June 19th.  I went outside for ten minutes to pick up some bits at Tesco and that was enough for me!  I scurried home and was very happy to be inside my much cooler house.  Had the windows open and there was a nice breeze circulating!

It may drop a few degrees today but it will still be nice, before going back up to 32 on Saturday!  Scorchio!

I don’t need to tell you – and I’m sure you’re bored of me telling you – but yesterday was all about marking essays.  They say that all work and no play makes Lindsay a dull boy.  Well, at this point, I am a dull boy!

This evening, I’m popping down to a production studio in North London and getting involved in a music industry podcast.  Really looking forward to it.  I’ll post the link as soon as it’s available.

Hope you can join me tomorrow at 1.00 p.m. for ‘The A-Z Of Mi-Soul Music’: The Letter E (Part Two), with executive producer, The Party Girl (who has done a superb job!)

After the radio show, I will be going home and marking assignments!  Yes, I know, dull boy!  What can I say?  Every cool job has an administrational side.  Even being a self-releasing music artist involves a lot of repetitive tasks!

Please note: if you’ve bought a copy of my new book, ‘The Mistakes I Made (And How To Avoid Making Them)’ and you want it signed, please bring it to Selecta’s Corner at The BBE Store on Sunday (3.00 until 10.00 – free admission all day!)

Have a fabulous and funky Friday!  I love you all.  You’re probably thinking, “You don’t even know me!” but, if people can hate for no reason, why can’t I love?

[mariacallous]

The Russian offensive on the Kharkiv region this month has, after 20 months of relative peace, again placed many of the villages where my charity works, repairing homes destroyed by bombs, at the forefront of the war.

I began volunteering in Kharkiv two years ago, having dropped out of my master’s degree in Russian literature and set up the charity to support Ukrainians. After the region’s liberation in September 2022, hundreds of thousands of people had started to return to Kharkiv city and the wider region from other parts of Ukraine, and countries that had taken them in as refugees. The villages where I work were reawakening, the craters that lined the streets had been filled, shops were reopening, electricity was back on. People’s return was mostly driven by a desire to be at home.

“Dim ye dim” is the catchphrase of those living in these villages. Home is home. For many, living in the villages that sit in the 30 miles between Kharkiv and the border with Russia, returning home is also a conscious act of defiance. One elderly woman, who had stayed in her village throughout the war, through occupation and shelling, told me that she would not leave because “so long as there is a Ukrainian on this soil, it will be Ukraine”.

When reports began circulating back in January that Russia may try to take Kharkiv again, local people generally ignored them. Everyone understands the risks they are taking by living so close to the border, but people cannot live in constant fear. Residents planted their vegetable gardens, confident they would be harvesting from them in a few months’ time. They continued to hope that the US military aid package would come through on time, and that the fortifications on the Ukrainian side of the border would hold the Russians back. Nonetheless, over the past month, friends of mine have begun to make contingency plans, posting their documents to family members in safer parts of Ukraine, or moving their children to relatives elsewhere.

On 10 May, the Russians finally recrossed the border and have captured over a dozen villages. Last week, at a petrol station in the eastern Saltivka district of Kharkiv, I stood next to the melted carcass of a lorry hit by a strike in 2022, and listened to the sound of artillery from the frontline, now once again just a few miles away. When I texted a resident of one village last week to ask how she was, she simply replied: “Prokhody is burning.”

Six weeks ago I was having lunch in that same village, which had recently regained electricity for the first time in two years and was discussing plans for local people to put on a cabaret at their small cultural centre over the summer. That cultural centre was badly damaged at the start of the war, but the local administration repaired it in the belief that music might help heal the residents’ trauma. It may well be destroyed now. The village is under too much fire for anyone to check.

On a walk with a local friend in Kharkiv last week, we noted how similar the tense atmosphere was to when we had first met in the city in the summer of 2022. There are some major differences, though. The use now of immensely powerful glide bombs, capable of creating craters as deep as nine-storey buildings, adds another layer of tension.

The lack of faith in the west’s support is another. In the early days of the war, despite all the unfurling horrors, people were confident that the west saw this fight as its fight too, and that Ukraine would receive the support it needed. The massive delays in US aid mean that this belief has been replaced by a feeling of betrayal. Ukrainians breathed a collective sigh of relief last month, when the US Congress finally passed the long-awaited bill providing $60.84bn of military aid to Ukraine. However, I don’t know a single person who has not lost a loved one fighting in the past six months, and no one here can shake the belief that those lives might have been saved had the US passed the bill sooner.

The Ukrainian army seems to have stalled the Russian advance on Kharkiv for now, but concrete action must be taken by Ukraine’s allies to ensure that Kharkiv and the villages around it do not become the next Mariupol. Kharkiv needs proper air defence: entering the city feels as though an umbrella has been taken off you during a storm –people are living with little protection from the attacks launched from across the border every day. Most vitally, Ukrainian troops must be able to strike in Russian territory: once they can do this, they will be able to destroy the systems from which these weapons are launched. So far, the UK and Latvia have said this should be allowed, and those countries must now step up the pressure on the US to allow Ukraine to do the same with American weapons.

Prior to moving to Kharkiv, I spent the first months of the war volunteering on the Polish-Ukrainian border, helping those fleeing. I thought at the time that there was nothing more heartbreaking than the look in the eyes of a person who has been forced to leave their home. Since this new offensive, I have realised that there is: the look in the eyes of a person who fled their home, returned thinking they were safe once more and started to rebuild their life, only to be forced to flee again. My friends and colleagues are once again being forced to make the impossible decision of whether to leave their homes and step back into the life of a refugee, or to stay in their beloved Kharkiv and risk death every day.

This situation was avoidable. The civilians and soldiers who have died since the new offensive began can’t be brought back, but through adequate weapons and air defence provisions, and permission for Ukraine to strike Russian territory, the west can ensure that their friends and families won’t face the same fate – and that the residents of Kharkiv and the villages where I work can keep rebuilding their homes and their lives.

[pearl484-blog]

Nooroo's Greatest Mistake

This is a Work in Progress for Tales of the Miraculous: Wielders of Old. It's got a few tonal issues that need to be ironed out, but hey, hey not post it? The goal of this work was to explore previous specific wielders and the risks that they would've struggled with, the pitfalls they fell into, and the effects it would've had on the kwamis. Maybe I'll work on it again, but it's low priority.

Nooroo was trapped, a prisoner in a world so unlike the one he’d known, held by a cruel master who always kept him within arm’s reach, and never gave Nooroo the freedom to so much as flutter a wing out of line. It wasn’t just humiliating, it was also mind numbing. 

His holder never left the house, never did anything of particular note (his activities as a Butterfly notwithstanding), and never truly took any steps to keep the little kwami entertained. So it was little wonder that anytime his Wielder viewed the outside world, even through a tiny little screen, Nooroo did his best to discreetly view it with him. 

And it was on one of these days that his Wielder pulled up a portrait that left Nooroo reeling. It was Étaín, portrayed at the height of her power. Before everything that had happened. 

At the next chance he got, Nooroo pulled the tablet out where he could see it, and pulled up the portrait of Étaín again. She looked just as beautiful as she had the night before everything had gone wrong. The night before Nooroo made the worst mistake of his life. 

She had been a Guardian, one of the best in fact. Her ability to sense the intentions of others and help understand the needs of her people had been instrumental to making her and the rest of her order’s reign a particularly prosperous one. She had been adored by her people, and well-respected by her fellow Guardians. 

Étaín had even taken a lover, Midir, and he was completely, helplessly in love with her. She’d have done anything for him, and he’d have done anything for her. But Midir had not been without flaws. In his haste to pursue Étaín, Midir had a particularly nasty break up with Fuamnoch, a Dragon that had given birth to several of his children.

To say that Fuamnoch had not taken the break up lightly was putting it mildly. She had set into motion a full blown civil war between the Guardians, forcing them to choose sides between her and Midir, and had managed to turn even the pettiest disputes into full blown rampages with nothing but a few well-chosen words. Nooroo would’ve been impressed, if it hadn’t caused so much destruction and devastation. 

Ultimately though, Étaín’s side had won, and she had stripped Fuamnoch and her supporters of their Miraculouses and exiled them. But, to quell some of the arguments, she’d also had to strip her beloved Midir of his Dog Miraculous as well. It had been difficult, both to have been forced to commit such a betrayal against her beloved and to have to lose so many of her former comrades in arms. 

Yet, despite having lost so much, it hadn’t stopped Étaín and Midir’s love. If anything, it had brought them closer together. And that was the reason why Étaín had been separated from Nooroo on that night. She had wanted to spend time with Midir, and Nooroo had wanted to give the lovers their space. 

But it had all gone wrong.  Fuamnoch had somehow regained the Dragon and had forced Longg to turn against Nooroo. She had followed Étaín followed Étaín to her home under the guise of a storm cloud. Étaín and Nooroo hadn’t even known that something was amiss until Fuamnoch had dragged Étaín out into the woods, and had seen her flying off to parts unknown with Nooroo’s beloved holder. 

Desperate, hurt, and angry, Nooroo had fled immediately to Midir’s home, trying to get help. But by the time they made it back, the Miracle Box that Étaín had been caring for had been stolen. 

Nooroo hadn’t been sure how many Miraculouses had been in circulation, and how many were in the stolen box. The war had been so recent, and so many concessions had been made to keep from starting another one. 

Nooroo had panicked. He didn’t know who else to trust besides Midir, and who had been recruited by Fuamnoch to betray his beloved Chosen. He’d known that Midir didn’t stand a chance against his ex without a Miraculous, and he wanted his closest friend back immediately. 

So, Nooroo made a mistake. He begged Midir to swear to find Étaín and bring her back home, and then he lent Midir some of his power. With his Holder’s help, he could have made the exchange safe and temporary, with plenty of solutions if something went wrong. But without his Holder, he’d permanently warped Midir’s power and had accidentally infected the lands around him with a magical plague. 

Some of it had bled into the world harmlessly, more or less. Creating a few more pixies and elementals than normal, and a few animals had received the blessing as well, sometimes giving them abilities beyond mere mortal animals or causing them to look or act so odd and alien compared to their brethren. 

But the worst part had been what had happened to the humans that were blessed. They’d each been given extraordinary gifts sure, but without anything to stabilize them, they’d lost themselves, and become unrecognizable. 

But Nooroo, in his selfishness, hadn’t recognized that. He’d only been concerned with Midir, and getting Midir to save his friend. Together, with Nooroo acting as the angel on Midir’s shoulder and Midir acting as the muscle, the two had made their way, searching through the lands. It took years, perhaps decades, of going after the vaguest rumors and the faintest whispers to find Étaín, but by then, she wasn’t the same woman she once was. 

Étaín had been broken, utterly defeated by her captors who had tortured her for Nooroo’s location. By the time Nooroo and Midir had found her, the once outgoing and friendly young mage had become shy, meek, and utterly dependent on others. She’d been wed to a different man than Midir, although not an unkind one, and she had no memory of Midir, Nooroo, or even her own original name. 

Even her empathy, the ability that Étaín had been so renowned for, had been turned against her, twisted and wielded against her like a blade. She didn’t understand why she was constantly at the mercy of everyone’s thoughts, and her Miraculous had been fused to her flesh to prevent her from ever escaping the onslaught. 

In his own nightmares, Nooroo thought about what had been done to his best friend to reduce her to such a state, and he was glad she couldn’t remember it.

Midir had been enraged, but had listened to Nooroo’s advice to avoid razing the city to the ground. Instead, he had manipulated the new husband into letting Midir kiss Étaín, hoping true love’s kiss would break the spell. But there was no spell to break, and Midir was heartbroken. Again, Midir wanted to raze the city to the ground, and again, Nooroo convinced Midir not to. 

And perhaps if Nooroo hadn’t convinced Midir to stop, Midir would’ve destroyed all the Fair Folk. Perhaps if Nooroo hadn’t told Midir to woo Étaín again, Midir would’ve instead found all the rogue Miraculous and saved everyone. And perhaps if Nooroo had been strong enough to take the Miraculous back from Étaín, consequences be damned, he could’ve stopped everything. 

But Nooroo didn’t, and so the world suffered under the reign of the People of the Hills, the Sidhe. 

[plasticfangtastic]

Of The Same Poisonous Ilk. Ch. 2

A Homelander fanfic

A/N: will try doing weekly post for this series, thank to all those who read this, all aplicable tw are put down here if I miss any plz let me know, long chapter ahead! previous chapter here:

Sypnosis: As if God himself had decided to play a prank on him, Homelander is finally blessed with a true equal... Himself... yet not quite the same.

R18+ Violence, gore, smut, selfcest, butchlander, homewell, discussion of sexualization of minors, Child abuse, Femlander, Multiverse shenanigans, Canon Divergent, Darkfic, 3some, Bi-Lander.

Chapter two

Gasping, his throat collapsing, her hand viciously gripping at his throat, his eyes rolling back and their hands in a deadlock.

He had no clue why she snapped so quickly.

Just before with sleepy eyes and groggy lips calling after a man whose named sounded like his own, she pulled, forcing their lips together, Joan devoured him madly, desperately, groaning loudly against his lips, gripping at his hair, her hands starved after him, as his own hand cradled her cheek he felt the damp on her cheeks, that sweet moment died out, she pushed him after trying to kill him, shivering like a wounded doe.

As she calmed down Homelander watched her in awe unsure of what game this woman was playing– why had she become so upset? He could feel his lips throbbing, bruised from the intensity of her kisses and wanting more, both left gasping, she clung to the blanket covering herself as she moved towards the corner, her hair wild and her cheeks bright red.

Homelander leaned forward on his elbows, he felt it again, electricity circulating in his body, feeling her leave had left him oddly vacant. He was falling into a spell, wanting… needing… itching to touch her, a primal craving consuming his desires, they both stared at each other unable to speak yet willing, filling the dark room with nothing but quiet breaths, their heartbeats slowing together.

“Disappointed?” he jokes, wanting to calm her down.

She sniffed, cleaning the tears still staining her cheeks.

“I am sorry.” She cried looking away from him. Homelander never said it but hearing it from her felt strange as if she wasn’t made for it– I… I won’t do it again… so don’t hate me.”

“Is alright… come here…” He stretched his hand– that Jon and you?” he asked nervously, tightening his jaw.

“No!! It wasn’t like that… I thought for a second he was still alive…”

She got closer to him, trembling horribly, afraid he would bite this time around, but Homelander didn’t do such thing, he wrapped his arms around her, feeling that electricity once more, her body fit so neatly against his own, her smell intoxicating– smelling of oats, milk and sunflowers like himself. Her body just the right temperature, her skin made his own crawl, touching her was the finest velvet, her hands just as soft as his own, she sobbed under his gentle embrace.

She held him as she cried lighty, it all remained a mystery to him– one he wanted to unravel. He had only fantasized about hugging himself as a small child…but receiving it now… it felt soothing… without the cringe and shame, this wasn’t that disgusting experience with Doppelganger either, this was him in a way– just better… She was a beautiful new thing, she was real and dependant of him. John and Joan felt the warmth of each other resting in the bed, falling asleep in each other's arms. She slept so soundly, his heart sounded just like Jon’s, in her dreams she saw him, on top of a big rock chewing on jerky, the sun hiding behind him as he watched the vast empty desert, no matter how much she wanted to sit by his side, her legs wouldn’t move.

Homelander awoke, he usually woke at the crack of dawn but for once he overslept, looking down to find the woman still wrapping him, he had slept in his suit which was unheard of but it was a fair trade-off… he had never slept holding another person for an entire night. Looking at this sweet thing he thought of himself at that age, Maeve would make love to him but she would be gone by morning, Madelyn never stayed for longer than an hour or two if he was lucky but now he had the full experience and he didn’t just felt spoiled– he felt light as he squeezed this coiled body around him, surprised that even his little Homie hadn’t ruined the moment, watching her in his arms as she held for dear life at his body– he only found comfort and nothing else, fixated with the song of her heartbeat, gently pushing her finding himself whining as he lets her go, watching her sleep soundly, he brushed her soft hair aside tucking her in. 

He had never once felt this relaxed in the morning– not without sex being involved somehow of course. He caressed her cheek in and let her sleep, he had one mission and that was to look at the contents of that phone.

Ashley bites at her nails, unsure of what to do, the rest of The Seven, Stan Edgar, the head of Crisis management and Dr. Park awaited for Homelander who was unusually late, the prospect that that female had killed him while they slept was being discussed psychically– and then the doors tragically opened up.

“Good morning! I see we’re having an important meeting” He said with genuine glee.

“I texted you three times this morning, sir.” Ashley whispered, taking her place by his shadow– we had one of analytics cracked her phone.”

“Could’ve just asked me– we got the same fingerprint.” he laughs lightly as he heads for his spot catchign Dr. park's attention–"So what brings such illustrious faces this morning.”

Stan raises his eyebrow, gesturing to the head of Crisis management.

“As Dr. Park already briefed the rest of your team, it has come to our attention that our surprise visitors are from another dimension and such ramifications well… long story short You and the rest of the Seven must ensure that our two visitors remain inside the tower, and away from the public.”

“So you invited Starlight?” Homelander chuckles– give it five seconds before she’s texting her boytoy at the FBSA!”

“I’m well aware of the irony… but in the event she does get out or Leaper… it would be a good idea to have a backup– as I was informed it appears that she’s your equal in a fight.”

He scoffs at the idea, taking a seat at the helm.

“If they can’t kill me what makes you think–

“You are to do whatever it takes to take her down, understood.”

Homelander said nothing, feeling the heavy stare of his boss, he would entertain him but he wouldn’t– Joan was worth something to him, there was only one of him, only one original Homelander... but afterall God had made Eve out of Adam's rib, he wouldn't insult the lesser God by throwing away a gift to his most perfect creation.

Starlight cleared her throat trying to calm the flames about to ignite.

“I’m certain that our guest might be reasonable and understanding– I mean she hasn’t attacked since yesterday, no?”

Homelander looked at the young blonde and bitterly nodded, Starlight could only hope this woman could kill their Homelander, in that fight she would put all her bets on her.

“She’s still asleep in my penthouse…” His ear picked the light snoring.

The older man looked rough, muscular and no nonsense, he turned the TV screens on-- each revealing their own stories.

Three stills of Homelander, of three versions of him– A tired one covered in scars and worn down by the sun trying to light a cigarette, a young man with longer hair holding the bottom half of a jaw, and a shirtless man, more muscle than body fat, covered in in a blue glowing liquid, his eyes glowing the same color.

Dr. park took to his side, touching his tablet.

“I don’t need to explain that this footage is highly sensitive– I was frankly blown away if I’m honest” 

He looked far too eager.

“We couldn’t access any of her social media accounts… well their versions of them… seems MySpace, Friendster and Douyin are the main sites, she also has a LINEs account, thus we were able to read her conversation currently we have someone from analytics transcribing”

A screen showed a snipped between Homelander and a man named J with a love heart emoji”

“Joan darling you will do the interview… is that or you post an apology video”

“But I didn’t do anything wrong!!”

“We know and we stand behind you, yet we can lose any more points– do you want people not to love you anymore?”

“alright…”

–… but her gallery well” He takes a deep breath throwing rapid looks at the head of the Seven, revealing there were hundreds and hundreds of Videos and thousands of pictures– our visitor decided to vlog her entire journey, taking multiple daily blogs and stopping only until she could find where or how to charge her phone based on the dates and breaks, I had one of the interns select a few highlight-reels but there’s no doubt this girl is… well…” He looks at Homelander feeling his throat shrink– a Homelander.”

Dr. Park fumbled a bit on the screen.

“We analyzed several of her videos and pictures to determine if they were some high-quality Deep Fakes but all videos came out as real” he said nervously.

One screen flipped thru different photos of Homelander, her in multiple Vough branded events, selfies at movie openings, smiling with Stan Edgar, a version of him that seemed friendly with her and a man that looked vaguely familiar to Homelander in a way he couldn't pinpoint, there were plenty of selfies advertising a make-up and skincare brand called “Homegirl”, a few risque poses here and there that made him blush and angry that he could hear the other men in the room react, for all purposes Homelander was no different than a social media influencer, one photo peeved at the supe, just a selfie with a pair of streamers and a cute sign saying thank you for 300 million Youtube subscribers alongside a diamond plaque.

“The videos were the most insightful.” he cleared his throat– she had kept quite extensive records… her phone battery life last 46 hours on one charge– this technology could revolutionize the world! we are certainly already copying for next year’s V-flip model” He said giddily.

Homelander leaned closer, all eyes focused on the screen. Annie already trying to figure out how she would tell Butcher that his worst nightmare had happened, Maeve clung to hope that this girl wasn’t anything like her ex and the other three were counting the seconds before the meeting would abruptly end, except for Noir who wasn’t entirely sure what was happening as this girl wasn’t Homelander… his only worry is that he had a Yoga class to attend and he might be late now– looking at those picture this person was far more sociable than his best friend.

The video played, Lady Homelander fixed her hair in an unseen mirror stuck in a grand room.

L.E.D lights glew soft blues, a large king size bed peek from the side and behind her a futuristic night sky, a handful of plants decorated a corner and a machine flew around spritzing the plants.

“Hi Guys!! Dunno when I'm posting this but it seems I'm in a little pickle…”she forced a smile but it broke quickly–… I dunno when I’ll be able to talk to you guys again, but it seems I’m in the future?” She took her phone and turned the camera around to the window. It was New York but miles taller, vehicles flew on invisible roads, roofs and balconies covered in greens and massive billboards projected themselves in glorious technicolor– I think I’m going to go insane… I’ve been here for three days and no sign of Leaper… I might be trapped here but I can feel him still here. I have to believe it!.”

The video cut to another scene, this time of Ashley– present one straightened herself unable to believe that in another dimension she would still be trapped in hell.

But this Ashley seemed… sexy, she had an air of confident and dreamy eyes to her, her make up metallic and perfect, her hair long and luscious, and her skin glowing, in her hand a glass of wine, she dressed in a intricate chiffon gown and pearls.

“So tell my audience a bit about yourself…” The Homelander voice whispered.

“I’m Wednesday. And I’ve been Wednesday for over ten years, used to be Monday but now am hump day– thank god! couldn't stand being Monday.” she said with a sultry tone– Monday always has to deal with his bad mood, best days are moi, Thursday and Saturday… altho I don’t like Saturday, she thinks we can be friends.” she seemed grossed out at the thought.

“You guys aren’t friends?”

“We don’t talk to each other outside the groupchat– y’know we ain't gonna let each other serve him the same meal twice, but we ain’t actually talking– it just makes things easier.”

“In what way?” She pressed– "I mean if all of you are his wives…”

“So we should be besties and bake pies together?” Ashley sounded disgusted– look I see him once a week, I get all I want, I live in a grand apartment and I haven’t aged a single day since he infected me with the V-Virus, can you believe I am sixty this year?” she laughed then took a sip of her ‘wine’.

“So it makes you happy?” She sounded sad.

“Why wouldn’t she?” That familiar voice creeped behind her, she turned the camera finding a suited man untying his blue tie by the entrance of the living room, Homelander didn’t expect the house to look like a scene from blade runner meets dune, walls so tall and the sepia lights coloured the skin of his mirror image a uneasy shade, this man younger perpetually trapped in his mid twenties at the latest, his hair swooped to the side and longer, the camera close enough to catch the sickly paleness of his skin behind the yellow tint and bright red eyes-- but not so by light but on their own, Ashley moved towards Homelander– hello my love, work finished early today… missed you.”

“Oh sweetie I missed you” She had jumped to his side wrapping her arms around his shoulders– come here tiger.” she chuckled into his lips.

Ashley eyes widen as  sexy Ashley kissed her Homelander, and had the camera lingered a second longer Homelander might’ve puked as the kiss was more than just passionate, the two basically humping on sight, nobody dared say a thing– a new video played, before the barf bags were distributed.

“Six wives? What’s the logic there Jonathan?” her voice annoyed.

“Sunday is a day of rest… I’m just a man I would die if I don't get some ‘me’ time” He chuckled, the young man sat in a thick leather armchair, plants around him and some marble statues to his side, everybody could’ve sworn it was the Venus de milo, a lot of paintings from the renaissance period adorned his presence- why does it bother you?”

He sounded younger, everything about him felt strange, like peeking into a fabricated memory, his skin had no wrinkles or hard lines but it was him… and it shouldn’t.

“Their names” she grumbled- the lack of them”

“Is easier than remembering their names” He smiled devilishly– is a joke don’t shoot. They don’t want to know each other… ask them! I just follow what my lovers like” he laughed lifting his hands defensively.

“Is hard to believe you and I are the same person… we don’t share anything.” she sounded exasperated.

“We share one thing and that's we are apex predators… you think of them as mud and I see cattle” She paced the camera to the dehydrated corpse by her foot– I get quite hungry after six days with my wives… and just for the record I do know their names… Victoria, Margaret, Ashleigh, Rebekah, Keneth and Kumiko… used to have a Klara and a Serge but they broke our rules.” He looked saddened by his own words.

He stood up picking up the dead corpse with ease, lifting its head to the gaping wound on his neck, he placed his empty cup beneath the wound watching a few drops fall.

“I miss Serge… his veal tasted like the sun kissing my skin once more.” Annie's mouth dropped– but I love them…”

“Do You? Or are you filling the empty void with sex?” The girl stood up and led the camera thru the art gallery into a massive painting of a young girl no more than 16 or 17, long wavy blonde hair, pale blue eyes and thin lips, on top of a cream marble fireplace, Homelander leaned closer he couldn’t mistake that teen for anybody else but Madelyn, but how?– or you just miss her?”

“Maybe I am still a little bit human… or not.” The man teleported beside her, never making a peep– She turned me… guess I still love her in a way.

“And she left you so you decided to get six wives to replace her?”

He chuckled, taking a silver box from a set of five by the fireplace, he opened the latch to reveal a beating heart, dried but it beat weakly, alive, the second the light touched it, strange strands made of sticky flesh began chasing after Joan, pale pink threads twirling and winding into a bleeding and sickly primitive appendage, growing rapidly, white fragments growing inside the threads, doubling in size every second it gets closer.

“She’s still here” he shut the box and the muscle wilted into a fine red dust– she’s not very talkative these days.”

“Can we see somebody else!!?” Homelander squirmed in his seat, feeling his cheeks reddened.

“Well is definitely not something of this world” Stan said, not hiding the sickly feeling in his stomach– but I was told there were two other subjects.”

The Deep had passed out with open eyes, the thought of being Homelander “wife” was horrific and had completely ignored the horror scene afterwards but A-Train nudged at him with a shit eating grin, he just watched the trio with a smile so big he would happily die.

The screen had paused on a woman that Homelander recognized, Rebecca… Ryan's mother-- Jonathan’s Rebekah. She looked so beautiful as she entered the grand room carrying a small infant in her arms wrapped in pink. 

The woman unfazed at the metal box in her husband’s hand.

The man began to picture his funeral, as he went to subject number two, he had already ordered the death of the analytics members who’ve seen this video.

The video played and this man looked far more exhausted than Homelander could’ve imagine, it almost looked like make up on him– he wore a Hawaiian shirt, his arm slightly muscular and a growing beard shadowed his face, his hair just growing from a recent buzz cut and the circles on his eyes inmensed as he made waffles.

“Youse gonna wear that shit all day?” he took a long puff of his cigarette– I got you clothes for a reason, mate.”

“Yeah! I just got these washed and I like the feeling… Either way, come on! give me content, you can just be an annoying hardass all the time! I’ll get demonetized!”

“You also want me to to put on a fucking monkey suit and dance like a fucking wanker?” His accent was so painfully Australian– now do ya want two or three for brekky?”

“One”

“Chookie” He slap her plate with three waffles– you need to eat…now take the fucking suit off.”

Her plate was jammed packed with waffles, bacon sausages and eggs, and she could do nothing as he slathered the bitch in maple syrup.

“Milo or coffee?”

“Milk is fine.”

That he didn’t argue, The man served a second plate and the camera poorly followed to the figure seating next to him, Annie’s mouth dropped soon followed by Homelander.

Sitting beside her was Butcher… slightly younger, his skin beaming, and his hair nicely combed in a similar fashion to Homelander’s, his face clean shaved and not a scar adorned his features, he looked admittedly handsome– had he not worn Homelander’s suit he wouldn’t find this so disturbing, he looked just like the first time they’ve met all those christmases ago, Homelander bit his cheek anxiously.

From the angle they could see his cape draped over his shoulders, a thick chain dangled on his chest, and a detailed eagle sculpture adorned his shoulder, red gloves sat by the breakfast table dividing Joan and the impostor.

She recorded him eating as he moaned on that first bite.

“Aww Cyanide this time! so tingly.” He said in a sweetened voice– surprise you hadn’t tried it before Butcher, darling.”

Johnny gave a defeated sigh and moved to the fridge, writing cyanide on a whiteboard.

“Nathan is going to be so disappointed…” he mumbled.

“So how long have you two been doing this… thing?” she sounded uncomfortable.

“Two years. Easier to kill the cunt if I kept him around… dunno why it had to be in my fucking apartment!!”

“Ryann’s school is closer to your place.”

As if on queue a young girl shouted from across the house, a little girl no more than 8 ran into the kitchen with her hair in messy pigtails.

“Daddy, I can't find my shoes!!”

Maeve and Annie exchanged panic looks, and Dr. Park sweating a litre under his jacket.

“Did ya check the laundry?” he said in a calm voice trying not to laugh at the mess on her hair– did dad try to do your hair again?”

“Hey she’s wiggly” Butcher said with a lightest english accent he could muster.

“He just sucks!” She giggled playfully.

“He's a stubby short of a six pack actually” both chuckle together.

This was Ryan, the face too similar not to be him, her hair a dark red but her eyes the same shape but black eyes. That expression made his chest tightened as he watched his copy calmly fixing the girl's hair as she nodded, the camera came back to Not-Butcher.

Homelander could do the math, this was Maeve's and Butcher's Ryan, Joan had said so last night and now he saw the product.

This one seemed so content too, both men stayed quiet until the girl was out of the room.

“So you two are raising the kid together while you let him figure out how to kill you?”

“Shocker I know!” he cleans his hand and steals a waffle off Joan’s plate– look one day me and the bin chicken over 'ere realize that we both cared about the kid, so begrudgingly we sat one arvo and agreed to this… altho this cunt over here thinks I'm his maid!”

“Last time I tried cooking you hit me with a rolling pin over some eggs!”

“You calcified them!”

The man smiled behind his hand as he took his cigarrete back into his mouth, Joan did nothing to stop the cameras as the fake-Homelander stood up after a couple bites, wrapping his arms on the shorter man, forcing a kiss on his temple and lips as the man stabbed at his neck with a dirty kitchen knife– to no success.

“I’ll be late today, Daddy” he said shamelessly.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you Park” Homelander's voice had no humor to it, his eyes glowing so bright the heat made Maeve's hair frizz out.

“Ah… what happens next!” he sounded panicked– just wait!!.”

As Johnny kissed the bastard back the air was vacuumed out the room, a fat persian cat clawed at the floorboards yowling, Johnny shouted “Horror!” and the fake-Homelander moved to catch the feline as the house was sucked into a vortex, standing before the vortex was Leaper, his hair messy and his expression dazed and angry, he made a small size portal by crossing his fingers together into Ryann’s bedroom her stuff toys spat back at the trio, the girl was flung straight into the mayor vortex, as Leaper grinned.

“Told ya I’ll get even you cheap fucking whore!” He jumped into the hole and before Fake-Homelander could say a thing the portal closed after him.

“This Leaper can still create portals, it seems he needs to make a formation with his hands to activate his powers– but it might just be a quirk, it is likely that once our guest wakes up he might be able to escape anywhere in New York or further” He said, sweating buckets.

He still destroyed the TV screen, causing everybody to get on edge.

“You think you can humiliate me?” he growled, red light clinging in his eyes.

“I don’t think that was Dr. Park's intention, Homelander” Stan said– his scientific curiosity got the best of him and I am certain that this situation won’t repeat itself, right?” He said in his trademark humorless tone– it’s also not you, I think everybody here can state that that man is merely a look-alike” Stan raised his hand towards his temple.

"Don't really look like you, sir!" Deep butted in-- he's balding and you have great hair, Homelander!"

"Couldn't tell, he's australian! like what the fuck!? right?" Said Ashley almost in a panic.

"He's gay tho" Maeve risked it staring at Annie as she died alive-- terrible taste in men too."

Homelander grumble, stroking his tired eyes.

“Sorry I had my assistant make the compilation, she must’ve made the mistake! She’ll be disposed of immediately!!” he blurted.

“I’ll do it myself” Homelander grumbled and the man whispered into the ear of the head of crisis management who wrote the name down and slipped it into Homelander’s hand.

The video had continued to play on the screen beside it unnoticed.

until shouting began.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!!??” His voice echoed in a run down building– "Do you have any idea whatchu did, Pendejo!!?”

The man was unseen but the camera got closer struggling to focus, catching the young man in front of him with more clarity. It was A-Train wearing a military uniform, a light blue scarf wrapped around his neck, his vest heavy and his gun resting before him, the man bit at his lip trying to hold back his emotions.

“You!” The man came out of obscurity, he wore a similar uniform, his sleeves rolled up pointing at him with small dark red gloves– I should kill you!”

The shit eating grin was spat back at A-Train from the rest of the room.

“Jon… Colonel, sir. I had to do it, otherwise those people would ‘ave died!”

“I Know you did the right thing!!” He spat back with a trembling hand– But you should’ve called for me!! God dammit Reggie– I made a promise to your brother! Don’t you dare make me break that promise!!” He cried catching the younger man forcing him closer– I promised I would bring you home… You could’ve died, Reggie… I can’t lose you man! I can’t lose another one of my brothers!”

He sobbed softly, trembling against the younger guy.

“I didn’t want you to die, Colonel… There’s no future for us if you ain’t around” he said stifling his tears, returning his hug.

“You’re too young to care about my future!!” he shouted back behind tears– "this war doesn’t need to lose anymore people, much less humanity’s future!”

He held the young man’s face, forcing him to look straight into his deep blue eyes.

“Don’t ever do that without me!” He said holding back a sob– thank you for saving those people, you did the right thing… those families are still together because of you, but had you failed…” He pushed him back into his arms– I don’t think I could've ever faced Nathaniel, I couldn’t face the rest of our squad.”

“Colonel.”

“My life belongs to all of you, is not precious. Is not like yours or the rest of y'all that’s the weight of being a leader. I will protect you.” he said firmly as the afternoon sun burned thru the cracks of the abandoned building.

“Jesus what a cry-baby” Homelander said with great indignation.

To the rest of the room, whose ears had picked up with great interest, watching this was as if they were seeing an oscar winner contender, if he could pull off that charade in front of them they would buy him the ballot votes themselves, but their eyes were glued to the screen trying to figure out what creature that was, to come to terms that there was a version of him that appear to be made good and they’d drawn the shit end of the stick.

The video cut abruptly to a new scene, Homelander seemed more disgusted at this overly dramatic display of brotherly love than the prior acts of homosexual behaviors while the rest of the room dream of a game of switcheroo– the scene was of Jon. Maeve mouth dropped slightly as she caught a glimpse of the tall man, he was bulky, pure muscle, maybe 6’2’’ or 6’ 3’’at least– that or A-Train was short as fuck in that universe. He had a charming genuine smile, with messy blonde hair, a patchy coloured beard decorated his sharpened jaw, and his arms qualified as weapons with how big and beefy they were.

His cheeks sunburn and his smile bright enough to light up a baseball stadium.

He laughed earnestly as an older black man spoke to him.

“So that’s what actually happened.” Said the black man.

“Que la Virgencita tenga piedad contigo, Earving.” Jon replied, shaking his head with a giggle still caught in his tongue– Dunno what am going to do with you uncle, but sure as hell am glad my mami ain’t around to hear you.”

“Grace loves me, my boy.” he snorts– "should've seen her back at her age” he pointed at the camera woman.

Homelander wished he was alone, just to hear Black Noir once more, his friend barely registered the scene, just staring at the unscarred face, his voice lively, and his hair all there, he was aged maybe twenty years older than the young man beside him on screen, but he had an unusual youthfulness to him.

Homelander relaxed transfixed on the interaction.

“So how did you get a medal of honor?”

“A ship holding refugees was ambushed. I had only gotten the V-Serum two months prior but in that moment I suddenly learned how to fly and well, long story short… I was left bruised but not a single person was lost that day.”

She kept the camera still on him, making sure to frame his biceps, the camera occasionally flickering lower, unsubtle voyeuristic at the man’s body as she “struggled” to keep the pace, not that his army rags helped with modesty, they were tight beneath that vest, a gun strapped to his hip.

“You care a lot about people?”

“I was given these powers to help people, don’t get to be selfish anymore– all I want is to make sure no kid grows up without their loved ones… I lost my sister in one of the attacks, left me two kids, and I can’t look at their faces while knowing the monsters that took her are still free and hurting people, not when I got these powers, if I had yours I could’ve ended this myself, I am sure of that.”

He sounded so bitterly wounded, Joan just let the camera linger on his eyes.

“Now with you around we can save more people! and I’ll do anything I can to help you find a way home as a thank you, Te lo prometo.”

She had blushed behind the camera as his hand petted her hair, freezing under his gruff hands.

“So what’s with the spanish?” Joan asked nervously– aren’t we American? Or do you just like speaking spanish?”

“I’m Mexican, silly” he said, thickening his accent jokingly– Well technically my parents are Americans hence why I sound American, but I was born and Raised in el De Efe, then left to the US when I turned eighteen.” He grinned– I wanted to go to the same army university as my dad, and I joined the army, served for twenty years and then this invasion started– by then borders began to mean very little… they needed bodies on the field, this whole army is composed of everybody still walking after those monsters came and took it all” He said angryly– Still a beaner tho”

She had ignored most of that.

“You had parents?”

“You don’t?”

“no…” Joan said quietly– I…”

“I’m so sorry…” he stopped walking, turning to face her, instinctively putting his hand on her shoulder with a deeply apologetic look on his face, something truly unseen in this boardroom– It couldn’t’ve been easy… my dad him and my mom were engaged when they made me– one night my dad went to get dinner and never came back. My mom learned the morning after that a drunk driver killed him… my dad was army and my mom worked for the government, she got a job at the mexican embassy because it paid well and my grandpa didn’t want anything to do with my mom” He said sadly– had a stepdad but all he did was drop my sister and that’s it.” 

“You close to your mom?” She asked meekly, feeling safe and small under his grip, her hand trembling slightly.

“Close? This boy calls his momma everyday” Earving blurts– is a miracle she isn’t here to tuck him to bed.”

“Uncle!”

The group walked in a destroyed city, smoke and ash permeated in the air, when the camera caught something strange, from a distance a beast roared from on top a cracked building, it was beautiful and awful– coated in pearlescent skin, horns and bone shaped its head like an orchid, it’s eyes small but plenty, its body slim but large, it was a dragon with wings twice its size, its mouth larger ripping into its throat as its chest illuminated and puffed, Jon eyes widen ordering everybody to take cover, as he took flight.

The alien dragon spat a killer lazer only stopped at the projectile man took to its throat.

Small creatures emerged, walking on leathery wing stilts, their markings gray and brown, they moved fast and hop– they were blood-thirsty, launching themselves in groups at every slow body on their path.

She tucked her phone in her tits, the last thing the camera took was Joan laser slicing the aliens.

“This is the last world that our guest visited… if she’s mistaken” Dr. Park let an image on screen linger, one of the alien beings corpse, it was bigger than a human, its head short but its appearance resembled a Tupuxuara, Jon opened its mouth to show rows of sharpened fangs and a bright glowing green tongue.

“These ones are foot soldiers, the big ones are tanks, there’s like 3 other types besides the actual brains.” Jon said, the man cleaned his hand– they would rather send these abused creatures than face us. I feel bad for these animals” His voice quivers– I don't think they’ve had a choice. It is not their fault… they shouldn’t be here… it should be those monsters fighting us” He turned the head to reveal a metal panel sticking out from healing skin around a peeled skull.

“We should kill him” The Deep spoke– I mean we might not be able to contain them.”

He stated the obvious while pointing at the alien, which was somethign to process later, the universe now seeemd so big to the fish talker.

Homelander leaned back.

“If she stays here then there would be two of me”  That was also a terrible outcome, aliens seemed like the sensible decision– we don’t know if our Super Villain could actually bring a horde of alien dragons to New York” he caught himself there thinking of how stupid but awesome it sounded– he obviously resents Joan”

Ashley cleared her throat.

“She’s marketable” Ashley said coldly– nobody gets to 300 millions subscribers without being charismatic, her camera work is impressive for being done with a phone, her selfie game is off the charts, she’s young, hot and has A-list powers… those tits will fly themselves off the shelves`` Even Stan had Ashley’s attention– A long lost sister… maybe your father had an affair or a secret family… we could make her…” She sheepishly looked at Homelander– your side-kick. Think of this: two siblings separated by a cruel joke of fate, suddenly reunited after spending years hiding her powers and then one day she comes to America in search of her long lost brother who just happens to be not just any Supe, but the greatest Superhero in the world!”

“Side-kick?”

Homelander scoffed at the idea then paused looking back at the screen.

He wanted to sit alone, to watch all the videos and paint a better picture of this woman, of those versions of him.

They all talked but all he saw was that man, who looked too perfect, he didn’t need a padded suit, painting greek sculture’s green with envy, his smile so big, so pretty, so strange, he was the true uncanny staring back at him, and that woman who was him, had cried after him, this is the body they had wanted of him, the personality the whole country thought he had, this was how the world thought Homelander was, if he was here instead of Joan, he would kill him, he wanted to rip his face off, to wear his face... they would love him if he looked like that, the suit so baggy around his body as he stared at that roided abomination.

He found himself taking the tablet off Dr. Park, not knowing when he had stood up, speeding through the video until one video caught his attention.

Some bonfire party, Joan wrapped around Jon’s arms dancing gleefully, somebody else held the camera, as she hid her blush and smiled awkwardly as the man taught her the moves, some Bobby Pollido classic played in the background.

He stood there until the screen cracked around his thumb.

[lavender-teardroplettes]

Lily’s question box is closed so I cannot talk to them about my concerns and you are the main person engaging it it. You don’t seem to understand my words and maybe it is my translation error but speaking about hate will keep bringing it up and encourage anonymous to continue doing it. But if you ignore it they will get tired and leave. When Lily turned off anonymous last time you can tell that all the issues died down until recently because we keep doing the cycle of repeating. If we keep talking about the anonymous hate it will never end. So many other people like me are expressing our concerns on other blogs but no one is listening to us and the problem is still remaining. I am not telling you to block every anon only the rude ones so they will stop coming back to bother everyone. This is an upsetting issue in the community and I want you to understand that. An addition is that I am not blaming Lily. Only to see that they have an impressionable platform full of good followers and bad. If we keep putting this issue in front of them it will only create more problems for us and the community. Look at all bigger developers like zeekerss or Toby fox with how they are a solo creator but do not interact with the anonymous. This is why I am asking you to stop addressing the bad anons not the good ones who come to you with real opinion and questions like me. for an example ,why can we not try new things in the community? Hateful anonymous will never change but we can. We can shape the community and do better instead of circulating same problems over and over each time. I am sorry you have got racist words and I hope my English has not said anything bad. I do not want to be rude to you.

I won't unfollow you but I will stop reloading my home screen now. So if I do not respond again it is because I am gone for my real life priorities. Good morning once more and thank you for talking with me.

The issues don’t die down because Lily closed their ask box- other people were still receiving it whether they posted them or not. And they didn’t stop at all either when they turned off anon, people just continued to make side blogs and throwaways no matter how many times Lily blocked them. I just wasn’t targeted after shutting down a specific one that I should have admittedly blocked first and posted a screenshot of their ask just to collect the tumblr and put a faster stop to things. I’m the main person engaging because I’m open to actually talking with people and have gotten a majority of the asks all around.

I’m not misunderstanding your words- I do not believe that ignoring or not speaking out against hate does anything but encourage more people to do it and as someone who knows how aware the world was during 2016-2020 in the US- and even now with what’s happening currently in the world. I refuse to just ignore hate and let people get away with it. I encourage people to be mature adults, to better understand social environments as growing people and to reconsider how they approach things if their first reaction is to be hateful. It- more often than not- stems from underlining issues that need to be addressed and possibly helped through therapy, and I hope that people are able to get to a point where they’re better in their lives than they are now. I know it might seem impossible in the moment, but as someone how has personally grown through many hardships, it’s worth pressing on and figuring out who you really are under all your confusion and possibly misplaced feelings.

Trying to compare indie developers to people like Toby Fox(using him because I don’t know the other person listed)- who worked within the Homestuck community, which, btw and had one of the most toxic communities as noted by internet history and has first hand experience with a lot of this- doesn’t compare well. They have communities that are too big to handle and have been left to self regulation long before a fandom ever fully collected for Undertale. The most we can do as indie developers without a paid PR team and essentially having to do it ourselves and as creators with a bigger collections of followers is to steer people away from the same behaviors shown in those bigger communities and to encourage those in smaller pockets that are within the community to not stoop to those same levels and lows. It’s the most we can do if we’re going to have a community or fandom at all.

I know it’s an upsetting issue in the community, but that’s why we have to keep talking about it to discourage people from doing the same actions going further. Ignoring it doesn’t do anything but allow it to happen again. New people will continue to enter the community and possibly make the same mistakes in trying to send anon hate and there needs to be more of a precedent to shut that down and remove those sorts of people. You don’t get to have fun with us if this is how you’re going to act- essentially.

And I don’t think you’re being rude to me, I’m just sharing my perspective. Im gonna go to bed now, have a good rest of your day. 🫂

[usmiletk]

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2 weeks ago some nasty people 😷 opened 3 differents „discord servers“ and were spreading each link on Facebook, Twitter and Tumblr. From those servers they selected secretly the vilest persons and added them in a private group. What they did till now?:

Quoting Taekookers posts (which are not ship related) unprovoked on twitter with photos of their ship and delusional comments. They want to force people to admit that their ship is real. But Taekookers were unbothered and just blocked them cause it’s an old tactic of them everyone is aware of. Note: you can ship without harassing other. Enjoy your ship without hate and leave other do the same peacefully. Hope you will know the difference between supporting and shipping one day! But I doubt this day will ever come! And sadly it’s just a competition for most of you now and you’re ready to do anything not to lose! ⚠️

Report and encourage Army to report Jk, Tae and Taekooker’s fanbases and Taekookers. These people have many accounts and they don’t hide it. Even some of their admins (not all are same) already openly admit many times in their blogs that they have OT7, their ship‘s accts and cosplayers accts and encourage their followers to do so.

Sabotage Jk and Tae upcoming solo albums and Damage their image. They started shitting on Tae with another girl idol and their achievements unprovoked (‼️FOCUS ON YOUR FAV). Their goal was to push big Tae and JK’s FBs to post about it and so they could screenshot it and use their OT7 accts to encourage others OT7 to report them. Their exit door was the victimization as always. Since those fbs didn’t give them want they wanted, they push it far and started posting some nasty allegations (everything for them is sex related even their own ship 🤯) about Tae and his cousins ❌(Tae posted in the past some videos playing with his cousins and even wanted to manage one of them). That is when things escalated and they deleted but kths and Taekookers started to clap back (what wasn’t the right thing to do cause what every party did was nasty and no one deserve this). Their next step they used their jk’s accts (cosplayers) to shit on Tae too and kths were clapping back and that’s how jk solo join all this shit. Why? They don’t want jks and kths to work together for their favs upcoming albums. It’s crazy cause we don’t even have any confirmation of those album’s release. When they saw many people clapping back, they started the victimization and the people behind this were focus to ask to report Jk, Tae and Taekooker fbs while those who joined innocently to defend their fav asked to report accts which were involved in the fight. They even openly offered to paid some people to help them trend nasty things about Tae and Jk. As we all know they hurried to write false narratives about what really happened and circulated it on every platform. It‘s disgusting to see how they’re proud of what was said cause it was to defend their real fav (yes, they only care about one person in their ship, the other one is only important for their delusional sex narratives and the punching bag for their frustrations). No, it’s not. Every nasty thing said that day was wrong no matter the reason. No one deserve this and hope people see how far they’re going before it’s too late. At the end Fanbases of all sides joined to clean the tl and asked people to stop. They did great ! 🙋🏻‍♂️👏👏. Only their fake OT7 accts were trending positive things only for their real fav (it’s good 👍) and reported the fan’s accts of the 2 others maknaes involve and not their fav’s one (it isn’t good 🫵👎).

They’re starting to shit on Tae again today with their OT7 accts cause he is on the way of their ship 🤯🤢. They’re mad cause they didn’t have what they expected from their ship from D-Day‘s concert and they through their frustrations and insecurities on Tae and jk. They made some edited photos of Tae with the same idol girl and are circulating it in their OT7 accts, use their other OT7 accts to kekekeke about it. They are trying to normalize openly mocking and harassing Tae in the fandom and are setting Tae up for hate with the idol girl’s fandom. They also want to shift the focus from what is happening to Kodak black (don’t worry, we don’t care, we are not like you and there is no reason for you to panic about that in the first place). Their exit door this time, they planned to claim jokes if it doesn‘t go well. But no one is calling them out, everyone is acting blind while we’re reporting them and Stay focus on streaming and voting.

I can‘t believe that in 2023 these people are still using smear campaign to shit on others. Aren’t you tired? Stop lying to your followers that it’s what others are doing too to make them joint your devil cult cause they think they’re defending their fav from what other started first, when in reality they are innocently been used to satisfy the ego of some devil people who social media made them think they have some power. Stop this, it’s going too far and you’re not even seeing it!!! And somehow what you do is never wrong even when everyone around you is telling you otherwise. This is crazy!!!!!

[delusion-of-negation]

there's a letter to an ex-friend under the cut - i know that he won't know about or read it, but i've been told that expressing myself might help me find closure and support. apparently, men don't talk about our emotions enough, or some bullshit - idk, i don't read feminist literature, i'm a shitposter. note: if you do read the letter, please don't take the opportunity to insult or demean my ex-friend in the notes, you know that i'm not a fan of internet gossip culture or bandwagon insult parties, especially not when you've only heard one side, especially not when you think that you deserve more information, especially not just to be a dick.

date posted: 17/08/2023 date last edited: 20/09/2023

this is unrebloggable because i don't want private emotions circulating, but i also made playlists that express how i'm feeling (because i find that putting songs or pictures in nice orders helps me express myself, i'm autistic, and music conveys feelings better than my long-winded explanations of the reasons). initially, one was in the post itself, and another was linked, along with an update post.

the letter:

frankly, i'm not a very succinct person, and when i initially wrote this i had a lot of very complex, not-yet-fully-understood feelings that i was processing with it, and it quickly became disorganised in a flurry. i want to express the points better and have edited it to do so. you callously, knowingly ruined my entire life, on every level you could, for your own amusement. i have no opportunity to even convey to you what you've done to me, and that's why i wrote this, to understand and convey those thoughts to the void. i'm explaining that the reasons for my hurt and my ever-increasing suicidality are nuanced and complicated, historic and current, and they feed into each other, yes, but the part that you played is not to be understated. this was originally more balanced and sympathetic, more mourning and sad, as an anonymous post about a complicated, personal situation that you want to wash your hands of - but you want to wash your hands of fucking me over, not once or twice, but endlessly and cruelly for weeks. you definitely have no room to judge an anonymous post to process feelings (where nobody who knows you would even see, except anyone you sent to send me hate), which doesn't talk about a single personal thing about you, when you air deeply personal info, with god knows how much selective quoting and twisting and demonising of a conversation that happened specifically while i was incapable of an ounce of coherent thought, overdosing and drunk, to people who actually know me.

you and your buddies spew callous bullshit gossiping, twisting my words (for example, when i was talking about struggling with self-loathing and depression and dark thoughts - while i was, as mentioned, drunk, on a massive overdose of various psychotropic meds, and in the midst of a suicide attempt, wherein you decided to bait and lead the conversation, to get things to take out of context later - i said that a couple of events [ie moments of struggle with the aforementioned issues] led to me talking to my previous therapist about things; it seems this may be amongst things taken out of context, put alongside other rumours, past and current, with chronic gossips and people you went to who you knew i didn't trust [who, it should be noted, i dislike and blame more than you tbh, but this isn't to them], to imply "events" meant some kind of behavioural issue, that is not and has never been something that i've done; me having a depressive episode whilst drunk at a later date, expressing that i felt like i was becoming somebody i didn't want to be, seemingly taken to again mean a behavioural issue, not likewise about struggling with my own inner experiences and darker thoughts). even without the twisting, it's so inappropriate and risky to mockingly gossip about somebody's private situation and health issues, which they told you about in a very vulnerable state - to try to expose them to harsh and undue judgement from anyone and everyone. at least one person, possibly more, (who it seems you told about the situation, or more specifically some twisted version of it, amongst other bits of obscure personal information) sent me many awful hate messages and stalked me online. and all this immediately after somebody attempted to murder me in a hate crime, which i had messaged you about from the hospital right after it happened - you are well aware of the sort of danger i was facing generally in life at the time, and the obvious ensuing fears. at first, i thought that you merely didn't understand the risks posed by hospitals and threatening gossip and harassment, but evidence just keeps cropping up that you were always well aware, and simply didn't care.

you disregarded my every boundary and my autonomy by doing what you did that night, i received no respect or consideration at my most vulnerable, and instead it was a means to an end. everything that you said (and the ultimate reveal that any niceness was all just a lie to keep me talking, while the police came to arrest me for being suicidal, or to spin something later) played on repeat in my brain, while i lay in various hospital beds, despite breaking down at mere attempts to re-read it all (i have since, and i could talk endlessly about how nice i tried to be, while you lied and pretended you wouldn't do what you have recently even if i had died). i was listening to music, monitoring my phone battery because we weren't allowed chargers (as insignificant as it sounds in the grand scheme of things, knowing that the whole time you knew that the very next morning, while my kidneys were still failing, you would demonise me and leave; you knew how abusive and distressing hospital would be too, you knew it was dangerous, you say as much in some of the chatlogs). knowing that i had nobody else close by, and that life was about to get a whole lot worse because of you, and that i was still incredibly suicidal, you left forever with a cruel final message - it really just felt like you didn't care if i was alone, hurting, in a highly abusive environment, because of you, and time has only proven this true. and then you demonised me to everyone. and that hurt feeling stewing inside of me as a result is not just losing a friend, it's a plethora of complex feelings, all mushed up together. i obviously don't think that you're obliged to be my friend (the date that this was posted alone should tell you that this is about everything that you've done since), at most i felt that dropping people for minor slights, as you seem to, isn't healthy - but regardless, to do all of this, to make it worse, to simply not care how much it hurts, that was unnecessary and cruel.

an example of the complex interactions with past trauma would be how me and a guardian (along with others) were horrifically abused (throughout my childhood). the abuse gave us c-ptsd (amongst other things) and, as a result of it, during her emotionally abusive depressive episodes, she would say that having his dna meant that i would become an abuser like him, she would tell me to go somewhere out of the way to kill myself, as i've told you before. i was a child, it stuck in my brain and formed how i respond to being thought of as evil. that fed into how much it hurt when you demonised me, when you acted like i was dangerous when i'm not, all over me being ill. on top of that, it felt doubly unfair, considering the mild hypocrisy, considering how i comforted you when you felt demonised, when you cried about how unfair it was to have your innocence and internal experience invalidated by a presumptuous bias others forced upon you - you knew how it would feel. another example, one that conveys an aspect of how and why my life got so much worse because of what you did, would be - because of being abused, tortured, in childhood, the health issues caused by it all, other health issues, the mountains of childhood trauma (from the aforementioned people and others), homelessness, and so forth - i was hospitalised for months as a teenager; i was severely abused while there, which made being thrown back into that exact same hospital (for weeks and weeks this time) because of you an even more agonising experience than it would've otherwise been (which isn't to say that it wouldn't have been agonising and dehumanising either way, it absolutely would've been).

i was sleeping in identical beds and rooms to those that i was sexually abused in (by a staff member coming into my room at night, as reports went ignored), around every corner there was another flashback to the half-a-year of agony that i endured years ago, to incessant and unending daily violence and misery that you physically cannot escape, locked in a room, with isolation, starvation, beatings, electrocution, force feeding, and so on - whatever you didn't endure personally, you were threatened with and/or saw others endure. and while some things had changed this time, others certainly hadn't, it fucking sucked. while i was there this time, i lost almost every friend i still had, i lost every irl friend (any not gone, and any feeling of safety in this godforsaken town, are certainly gone after your gossip and rumours); i couldn't see my dying relative ever again, i never saw her again, i never will see her again, and i was only able to see my bunny, who i loved more than anything, once more, very briefly at the vets, before she died, while staying with an old friend who had decided that she wanted to get rid of her (because of being in that fucking hospital, because of you, all this shit); the local mental health service continued to (and still continues to) refuse therapy or additional meds (because nothing is or will become available); i was sexually harassed by one patient and received bigoted abuse from another, and i could go on and on with more examples of the traumatic and isolating ripple effects. in short, my whole life and any remaining joy was ruined by what you did. you had me locked back there, the worst fear of my entire adult life come true, more afraid and more lonely by the day - like the last time, alone, no support network, no visitors. and any pain, sickness, or noise that caused was twisted to also be weaponised against me.

i reached out to you that night, when i was scared and needed a friend, to ease your potential concerns and to talk to my friend (i only ever wanted my best friend, although i know that you don't believe me on that point at this point, if you ever did, and i know that all innocent intentions and happy memories will have long since been twisted and tarred in your head). i never asked or expected anything of you whatsoever, then or prior. that night, i remember no suggestion of planning to hang out tomorrow, no phone call, nothing concrete, just saying that maybe you'll see me in a year, just lies and pretend understanding and manipulation. i know that it's a complex, difficult situation to navigate, respecting boundaries and choice when you're scared of the outcome that they want, and falsely thinking that handing responsibility to abusive systems will fix it - you didn't even try to help me at all, and you achieved nothing but misery. and now all of this. i know that i spiral and overthink - i don't always trust myself to be correct when i connect the dots that you're trying to hurt me. it made sense - it does track with your consistent disregard for me, with your remarks clearly knowing that there's risks in a psych ward, with your later behaviour. but it's largely interpreting a series of confusing, conflicting events/statements. i know that you spiral too, and that however much you hated me that night, you almost certainly hate me exponentially more now - i know that you'll have talked yourself in circles with whoever you gossiped to, or even alone, until i'm barely even a human being in your mind, if i ever was. i know that, if you were to ever read this, or hear me out to any degree, in any format, every sentence would be met with petty mockery, or at best the inclination to spend more time thinking of a response than hearing how another person feels.

i know that i will never have the chance to soberly explain the things that we talked about (or anything, for that matter, i don't get to correct things, defend myself, clarify things, i don't even get to know any more than vague references in insults what's been falsely claimed, and all i know from that is that whatever it is definitely isn't fucking true), ie what was poorly conveyed or misunderstood or intentionally twisted or only you baiting responses - i was drunk and on a massive overdose of various psychotropic drugs (amongst other things), and i was in a compromised and vulnerable emotional state, i couldn't say anything how i would prefer to, i could barely think at all, i couldn't account for needing careful phraseology or anything, and now i can never clear things up, all because you want to see me in the worst way possible. that said, the more words i say, the more words you have to twist. you've been doing that for a while though - for the latter half of our friendship, so much of what i said was taken in the worst way possible. you embarrassed me around friends more than once, when i was high, over a "that's what she said" level joke that you found distasteful, or something similarly benign. you'd ignore me for weeks on end, but if i wasn't available whenever you wanted for whatever topic you wanted, it'd be an issue (you once contacted friends when i didn't reply for just a day; when i expressed some concerns, it was met with frustration that i hadn't done so earlier, despite the implicit pressure not to do so that had built over the years, despite me actually having expressed concerns in the past and getting shut down with obvious excuses, that you later said were such, and despite all of the eggshells that i was walking on, your unfounded judgements; it felt like i had to fight more and more to be treated like a human being).

it wasn't a healthy dynamic for either of us. and i'm partially (quite largely, in fact) responsible for enabling and cultivating it - for one, i was so desperate to stay friends that i would permit anything, i would ignore every uncomfortable feeling (as i've told you before, i never even wanted your phone number or discord to begin with, and only agreed after repeated pressure and running out of excuses to keep refusing them, and then our level of contact increased, because you were ill and covid was happening, despite my desire to avoid it doing so, as we once somewhat discussed; but then it only grew worse as you made me more and more afraid of your constant judgement; that's not me theorising and reading into things, you admitted that it was happening), i'd limit complaints and disagreement to as mild as possible. bringing this up isn't some "got'cha, you were the asshole all along" - you know i don't think like that, i don't play that stupid heroes and villains game, it's just me trying to explain how and why this has all fucked me up. and now i have two versions of you in my memories that couldn't possibly get along - the deeply unhealthy idealisation that i fed with the scraps that you begrudgingly provided, and the asshole who ruined my entire life on a whim and then left before having to deal with the ramifications, who knowingly sent me to one of the worst places for me, without any sympathy, and who now trots around having a happy, free life, with an occasional interlude to gossip maliciously and dubiously about my personal struggles, without a single thought to how i'm left here in the mud and the rot, having to deal alone with every single consequence of your actions (and all of the shitty things from prior, which haven't been eased, in fact they're much worse), having to deal with the risks and stressors that come with people knowing really personal stuff (or at least some twisted and demonised version of it).

as much as i've bemoaned the inability to clarify myself to you, for a while i more desperately needed you to clarify yourself to me, and yet i had to drag myself kicking and screaming into the unfortunate reality that i'll never have either of those things - all the while not knowing how long i will be forced, by circumstance (my family couldn't afford another funeral at the moment, and i'm nothing if not courteous to a fault) and the few loved ones that i have left, to live in that reality. but you weren't happy to stop making my life worse at that, you weren't happy to let me even try to live my life. everything fucking sucks. and you're responsible for a lot of that suck. and, as i've said, there's far more than i could convey in a single, simple letter. and you will never know the extent of what you did, nor will you ever care about it - i've said it before, but deep down i know that you see me as nothing more than a dodged bullet despite you being the only one who shot (on the rare occasions that you briefly deign to see me at all), and that every time i writhe in frustration, confirmation bias will turn it into further proof of that conclusion, twisting and demonisation will make it feed the narrative. you said once that you simply don't think about me when i'm not around, and i am keenly aware of how little i ever mattered to you. and yet, despite all of that, despite all of this pain, i wanted my friend back, i missed my friend, i missed the person who i thought for a short while that night actually didn't feel disgusted by me, and i missed all of the good times prior. but to you, i'm nothing but a fun thing to bitch about, no matter how much danger and suffering a few minutes of your amusement causes.

i'm stuck here with nobody to talk to, and a million confusing things bouncing around in my head, and even sicker than ever from that fucking place, and you spend moments that you're bored making it worse for your own shits and giggles. nobody is or should be oversimplifying the situation, or arguing that i'm flawless, i've never claimed to be (although i'm starting to realise i need to clarify that by this, and historically anything like it, i mean things like "i word things poorly from time to time", and not whatever horrid ways you'll twist it to imply things i've never done), but i'm a harmless dumbass who got fucked over by you. in an old update, from the day my bunny died, i said "everything fucking hurts. you fucked me over. you screwed me over. you did not save me. you have no idea how much pain you've caused. i am so fucking angry and hurt. i didn't deserve this shit. because of you, what you did, i never saw my relative again and i only saw my bunny once." when i was at her funeral, which i had posted about, you organised a random effort to inform me of how far you'd spread this shit, how much danger i was in, and i said "you're not even trying to hide gossiping and shit while i'm struggling most. you're not even going to feel guilty for any of this. you destroyed me for fucking fun, for nothing but your own entertainment, it's callous. it doesn't benefit you to ruin my life and demonise me to everyone." i spent these few weeks stupidly holding on to the false hope that you would leave me be, telling myself maybe i was overthinking all the signs, working (apparently hopelessly) towards a better life. if there's an ounce of you that ever cared, which i highly doubt, just know that twisting vulnerable moments, to falsely imply that somebody has ever done anything that they haven't or to ruin their life even more and further ongoing isolation and harm that you've already fed into, is sick; someone tried to kill me, i was actively suicidal, and you thought "i know what this calls for, even more fear." you left because it'd be "good for you", but put my health, safety, even life at risk, for fun, for no reason. is that good for me? is that what supposed friends do?

goodbye

[c-h-stevens]

I should really let this post pass me by but it's still circulating and it's such blatant anti-intellectualism and Noble Savage nonsense, I want to say something before this hellsite starts claiming it's a myth that indigenous Americans ever practiced human sacrifice or something.

OP's paragraph first:

Agamemnon and Iphigenia, as depicted by Homer, Euripides, et al, are fictional characters. There's no evidence of them ever existing. Academics consider them tragic because they were portrayed as such in the, y'know, tragedies people wrote about them.

Basing off your opinions of Ancient Greece society on Homer, Euripides, et al is like forming an opinion on contemporary USA by watching Game of Thrones. No serious historian has attempted it since the 19th century at the very least.

There's no proof of Ancient Greeks consistently engaging in human sacrifice, certainly not in a scale comparable to that of the Aztec empire. There is apparently some evidence of it in the Archaic era (note: article is unavailable till September 2024). More evidence of early human sacrifice. An overview of the skepticism about Ancient Greek human sacrifice.

If you want to criticize Ancient Greeks, you can easily point to the slave owning, the misogyny, etc. No need to reach for the barely there human sacrifice.

The Aztec empire didn't "engage in the exact same thing". The fictional Agamemnon was a single warlord who sacrificed his daughter as an exceptional act to atone for his own actions, and he ends up murdered. The Aztec empire built a whole war machinery to procure prisoners for sacrifice. This is very widely attested. (Again, you could make a comparison with Ancient Greek slavery, which was also a huge industry. But that would require knowing what you speak of.)

"White historians" aren't the ones who created the stereotype of the "violent savage" Aztecs. The Spaniards who invaded and genocided them did. Y'know, for the purpose of invading and genociding them. This can be easily verified by looking at contemporary chronicles, such as those by Bartolomé de las Casas, a Spaniard who was critical of the whole thing.

I know this is barely above a shitpost, but the assertion that "white historians" (not even naming any names!) "erased the Aztecs from human history" is some ancient aliens tier bullshit, only pointed at the other side. And even if they had attempted that, they couldn't have done a very good job out of it, could they? Seeing how we're talking about the Aztecs right now and all.

I suppose it's good that OP clarified "white" historians instead of just assuming all academics are old white cishet men pompously puffing on their pipes, but the implication seems to be that there's no non-white historians to turn back the tide, and that's simply wrong. I admit I'm not very well informed on the subject, but I can mention Dan-el Padilla Peralta in the Classics field. Romans instead of Greeks though. If that's not your thing, you can read his memoir, Undocumented. I think it's better to promote marginalized historians than continuing to push this anti-intellectual Dan Brown-wannabe conspiratorial nonsense.

I had to reblog from someone else as OP deleted and I might as well pick on someone who deserves it, so here are my comments on the reply:

A sacrifice every 15 minutes on average for the duration of 4 days. Read your own link. That's 384 sacrifices, perfectly manageable with enough manpower, which the Aztecs had.

Yes, the accounts by conquistadors weren't devoid of propaganda, as I pointed out. That doesn't change the fact that the Aztecs engaged in human sacrifice in mass scale, to the tune of several hundred victims per archeological site. More rarely these included women and children. We've found the literal physical remains of these people. Trying to brush them aside as "but they weren't that many" is grotesque.

Why didn't the common Aztec folk revolt in the streets against human sacrifice? Because those sacrificed were overwhelmingly war prisoners, as is widely attested and very well known. Nobody was picking random people off the streets to act as human sacrifices! There's also evidence (referenced in that Wikipedia article seewetter linked, proving they didn't even bother reading it) of human sacrifice being concurrent with natural disasters such as droughts, meaning people were more desperate and less likely to care about the lives of complete strangers.

The entirety of the European population might not have approved of everything the Catholic Church did (I mean, Henry VIII and Martin Luther existed, for starters) but the Crusades, the Spanish Inquisition, etc. still happened. Is seewetter going to argue against the death count in those, too? Just for the sake of consistency.

How Human Sacrifice Propped Up the Social Order

I hate seewetter's smug icon now.

It figures seewetter also buys into the whole "European Pagans were violently persecuted by the evil Church!" nonsense. In reality, European polytheists either converted out of their own volition or persecuted Christians right back before eventually converting. I'm not providing any sources because this is too wide a subject and also because if you, unlike seewetter, read that second Wikipedia link, will see that those Pagan rebellions happened before conversion settled in for good.

Peasant uprisings do not belong on that list. Those peasants disagreed with the behavior of their own feudal lords, but it'd be a huge stretch to cast them as nonconformists or religious dissenters or whatever.

As I mentioned, none of the actual religious dissenters were out protesting the Crusades on the streets. So why would anybody jump to the entirely unfounded assumption of Aztec dissenters disapproving of human sacrifice? And I have to point out that, even if they disapproved, they don't seem to have done anything to stop it.

The human sacrifices (literally thousands of them) remain an unchanged fact. Whatever the average Aztec person may or may not have thought makes no difference on that particular matter. Trying to argue human sacrifice was not an accepted fact of Aztec life is just absurd.

My laptop hates me now.

There's a decent point buried in there about the Aztec empire always being boiled down to "scary human sacrifice!!!" as if they were the only empire in history that ever commited atrocities, but the point would be better made by discussing the other things they did and not by making cartoonishly racist white historians to be mad at. There's also a difference between critiquing the actual bigotry to be found in academia and acting as if historians think Agamemnon was a real person.

white historians will learn about the ancient greeks practicing human sacrifice and agamemnon sacrificing his own daughter iphigenia to please the gods in the iliad and go 'oh how tragic!' but still think the culture and people have value, and then hear about the aztecs engaging in the exact same thing and go 'those are savage cruel subhumans whose culture us foreign and mysterious and scary' and erase mesoamerican societies from human history/ entirely ignore them as though they have no value, like at least keep your supposed ethical stances consistent