#trying to produce more child soldiers

[yuridovewing]

Someone liked an old post I made about Littlecloud on my main so I doodled LittleCinder while watching Pokemon

[insufferableprotagonistpoll]

Propaganda why Tony Stark is insufferable:

>Makes weapons

>Billionaire

>Made multiple AI Surveillance Robots

>Gaslight a child into fighting a super soldier in a foreign country for him

>His fans are annoying

Portrayed as a hero because? He chose to no longer mass produce war weapons and bombs after suffering the consequences. Huge hypocrite. Doesn't care about anyone but himself. Will backstab people if they believe in human rights when it's inconvenient to him. Seen as a hero while he's the personification of privileged people saying they're not privileged

There’s the usual “he’s a war criminal who only felt bad about it when he realized his weapons were killing white Americans as well as Arab people” reason, and also he’s just super annoying. You had to be there for the original Avengers shitty dialogue a la “we have a Hulk” that had Tumblr in a vicious chokehold. Also he was supposed to FINALLY go away after destroying all his suits in Iron Man 3 but he just… didn’t! Which is bullshit.

Tony is so annoying. When they first meet he straight up bullies Peter into fighting for his personal bullshit, insults and objectifies Aunt May in front of him, spits into his trashcan and is in general being pushy af. He blackmails Peter when he doesn’t wanna come to Germany with him AND HE DOESNT EVEN EXPLAIN WHY HE WANTS HIM TO COME. Uncomfortable vibes lol.

Tony being the one to tell peter “if Captain America wanted to hurt you he would’ve” when Peter was trying to state his case, yet HE’S also the one who put Peter in harms way when he didn’t even want to go with him???

Telling Peter that he should stick to being a “friendly neighborhood Spider-Man” (stealing his thing once again) when that’s what Peter _was_ doing before Tony took him out of his zone and filled his head with grander things to be apart of….bitch? Die. Ohh waaaait (jkjk) but yeah

Super long, sorry lol

Thinking about how in Homecoming when Peter accidentally caused that boat to get split in half because the Vulture’s gun exploded and Tony was acting like as if Peter was completely in the wrong for going there just because he did it without his permission. He was acting like as if Peter was out of line and “disobeyed him”, trying to act like his father. And then I remember how in CACW he’s the one who scouted Peter in the first place just because he saw he might be useful against a personal squabble between him and Captain America despite knowing that he was a kid and he’s just now acknowledging how dangerous it is because Peter “acted on his own”

Completely hijacking Peter’s superhero story and trying to control his every move (Training wheels protocol and baby monitor thing he put in the suit), acting like Peter should’ve known that Tony would send someone in despite the fact that he’d been ignoring him for 2 months since Civil War and not keeping him updated on anything!!

How the hell is peter supposed to know Tony is going to listen to him when he treats him like a kid instead of a superhero when it’s convenient for him? And when Tony loses his temper after Peter says he’s 15 not 14 like “the adult is talking” bitch he could literally flatten you without your suit!!!

I guess in a way he is acting like a father but like the absentee kind. He’s more like a sperm donor father trying to act like he has any rights over Peter’s life smh.

It’s not that reprimanding Peter for the situation is bad, but the way he makes it seem as if Peter is irredeemable as if Tony wasn't a literal weapons dealer lmfao. He could’ve said what was the truth about it without completely invalidating him saying shit like “no thanks to you” after Peter asked if everyone is okay when it’s literally thanks to Peter finding a lead on those guys in the first place that they were even noticed and it’s not like the FBI being there could’ve in no way caused a similar situation.

And then near the end of the movie when he’s getting crushed by the building rubble screaming and crying for someone to help him where the fuck is Tony?? That scene just proved that he never needed Tony’s suit in the first place to be Spider-Man since he had to use 100% his own strength to lift it off of him. I know he would’ve found the motivation even if Tony hadn’t been involved in the first place to give him the suit, take it away from him and have the words “if you’re nothing without the suit you shouldn’t have it“ echo in his head. Why did Tony even take the suit away? Like as if he expects Peter to stop being spoderman without it??? Holy fuck. This is why you don’t make it out of endgame /j /srs.

When Tony took this suit away from Peter he was like “God I sound like my dad“ shouldn’t that be a red flag to him? Wasn’t he literally just saying that he wished his dad was better than he was?? Lmfao

Propaganda why Victor Frankenstein is insufferable:

Victor Frankenstein is so pathetic not even tumblr could love him. The best parts of Frankenstein are the ones where your blessedly saved from being in his whiny, self deprecating, self centered pov. He’s so conceited that when his creation tells him directly “In revenge for killing the wife you were making for me I’m going to kill YOUR wife to see how YOU like it!”, Victor Frankenstein thinks that the creation is going to kill him and *only* him. (A decision And on top of it, he’s a shitty dad. Truly the worst.

this fucker has zero self awareness, which could maybe be fun to read about! except that 3/4 of the book consists of him constantly woe-is-me-ing about his own mistakes and how he shouldn't be responsible for any of his own actions.

He's not irredeemable, but his refusal to take accountability til it's too late is irritating

[shalomniscient]

Okay I love domestic arle so much. It's so nice seeing her with children and being soft and domesticated but I think it's even cuter when you actually think about it from her perspective! Trying to follow sevchino lore so apologies if it doesn't.

Fourth Harbinger, the Knave, Father of the House of the Hearth, Arlecchino. She serves the Tsaritsa and as a Harbinger she's only known from the public as one of the bloodthirsty, savage, loyal, obedient dogs of the Cyro Archon. She's stained countless enemies, stained her hands with the blood of thousands, ten thousands, hundred thousands, who knows. Then she's the Father of the House of the Hearth, an orphanage unfortunately made for the production of Fatui soldiers. She tries her best to save as much children from pointless deaths and has raised them as best as she could for children that are of the Fatui. It's not enough, children still die on missions, still abused and hurt from the system she was brought into herself as a child of the House of the Hearth.

Even her body is a stark reminder of how 'monstrous' she is. She never minds her blackened arms but she is well aware that when people first spot them, they are terrified--rightfully so. The skin and claws are a part of her and it's one she accepts. So is the red cross in her eyes. However, for the briefest of moments when she forgets about her labels, in the comfort of her bedroom that is neither lived in or personal, she wonders what it'd be like to be stripped of those titles.

You make her forget about them. Even when the two of you were young, when she pulls you into her arms, when you intertwine your fingers with hers, when you kiss her so gently as compared to the harshness of this world, she does forget her titles. Here, with you, she's neither Harbinger or Father, with you she's just a lover. You make her impossibly warmer than anything her Pyro Vision can produce. Her loyalty may be for the Tsaritsa and she would die for her Archon, but even more extraordinary, she'll live for you.

And then. You get pregnant, and she's breathless, experiencing some sort of whiplash that catches her completely off guard, utterly vulnerable. The Fourth Harbinger, the Knave, the Father of the Hearth, is suddenly just a lover. And a father. For once, she's not a dog of war for the Tsaritsa, she's not a killer of many, and she's not a carrier of destruction. No, she created a life, something she could have never imagined possible, especially from her stained hands. She helped create something so beautiful and pure and blissful that she almost doubts that this is indeed a product of your two's love. But the baby growing inside of you is hers, hers to completely love without any restrictions from or regards to her titles. The only title that matters here is simply: father.

When little Estelle wraps her tiny hand on her finger, squeezing with as much strength as her baby muscles would allow, Arlecchino melts. Estelle is neither afraid of her arms nor does she twist away from disgust. Here, she learns she has so much more in life than Harbinger, Fatui, and House of the Hearth. She has you, and she has little Estelle (and noe later on).

Anyways. I love soft Arlecchino.

TEARS IN MY EYES ?? I NEED HER SO BAD 😭😭😭 soft arle………… when she finds out her wife is pregnant she’ll be so unbelievably tender LIKE ?? if she can, every night, she’s lying between your legs and resting her ear on your stomach, hands drawing idle shapes into your hips or thighs. you run your fingers through her hair and arle wants nothing more than to just melt into you.

from the moment she first feels the baby kick, she’s hooked. she’ll place a palm over your stomach to soothe the little one into settling down so as to not disturb your sleep. at this point, she always spoons you from behind in bed, and arm thrown protectively around your midsection.

the time between your third trimester and the first few months after the child is born is when arle’s protective instincts go into absolute overdrive. your home is filled with only members and former members of the house of the hearth—from the doctor, to the butler, to the maids, and everything in between. she has an elite handpicked group of guards posted around the grounds, and monitors them herself, taking status reports every hour or so. everyone in the home knows that their utmost priority, above even their own life, is yours and the baby’s and no one else’s. the knave has made that very clear the moment they stepped onto the grounds.

cw. childbirth

all that being said, god help her if there’s any complications during the birth. it’s the closest she’ll ever get to being truly, abjectly terrified. she keeps a brave face but she’s squeezing your hand as much as you’re squeezing hers. she’s half-leaning, half-lying in bed next to you, her other hand holding a damp towel that she uses to wipe your brow ever so often. she murmurs gentle words of encouragement between your agonized, exhausted cries, and tries not to show how much it scares her.

but she’d go through all of it again with you once she finally holds her child in her arms, a perfect little human that’s a mix of you and her.

HDGDJSKJDKSJSJS im so sick rn /pos i need to be held by my girlhusband……………. save me soft arle ………….. save me ………..

[sjsmith56]

The Important Stuff

Summary: One shot. Bucky gets up to feed his infant son during the night and takes every advantage of the time alone with him.

Length: 3K

Characters: Bucky Barnes, OFC (his wife Lisa, undescribed), OCC (Georgie, his one month old son), Sam Wilson (in flashback).

Warnings: This is so sweet and fluffy you may get diabetes.

Author notes: Several authors have written about Bucky and his child. This is my contribution to the trope.

👶🏻 🍼 🌌

It had been a month since Georgie’s birth; his arrival a moment of joy that his father Bucky Barnes would always remember. It wasn’t just the absolute awe he held for his wife, Lisa, at how magnificent she was during the birth but also at the fact that at the age of 107, Bucky Barnes was finally a father. Officially he was the oldest father of a newborn; a fact the press had a field day with when Georgie’s birth was announced by the Avengers. All sorts of news outlets had clamoured for a picture of the former Winter Soldier with his son, but Bucky and Lisa had already disappeared into the anonymity of a safe house in the country, where they could be alone with each other and adapt to being parents. Husband, wife, mother, father, and son becoming a family, while the world evolved without them.

It had taken some getting used to the needs of a super soldier baby as his appetite was voracious and as much as Lisa wanted to nurse it became obvious that supplements were necessary. Thank goodness Bruce Banner produced a high calorie nursing supplement based on the specific properties of her breast milk. That alone reduced a lot of the physical stress on her as she finally felt less like a nursing machine and more like a mother. Bucky liked it because he could feed his son directly, an act that he found both soothing and life changing, for it allowed him precious alone time with his son.

On this night, when Georgie’s cries woke them both, Bucky put his hand on Lisa’s.

“I’ll feed him,” he whispered. “You sleep.”

“You’re a good husband, Bucky,” she murmured, already slipping back into that dreamy state she had been in.

“I try,” he whispered back, placing a kiss on her forehead.

Stepping out of the bed, he picked up his T-shirt, but didn’t put it on. Instead, he held it in his hand, already knowing that Georgie liked the feeling of his father’s warmer than normal skin on his. The small night light beside the crib illuminated the little boy as he kicked at the sleeping bag he was secured into. The thatch of thick dark hair that he was born with was still there, but Bucky was sure it was already growing. Every day he looked at it and could swear that there was more of it. Perhaps it was time to compare the pictures of Georgie after his birth to how he was now and see if there was a difference.

“Hey, my little man,” he said, soothingly, as he unsnapped the straps of the sleeping bag.

That sleeping bag alone was certainly different than how babies were put to bed when Rebecca was born. Babies then were wrapped up so that they could barely move, then tucked under the bedclothes of their cribs. But now these body sleeping bags were recommended; enclosing the baby just enough to make them feel secure, while keeping them warm but free of the possibility of becoming tangled in any sheets. He lifted Georgie out, cradling him in his left arm, then stepping over to the change table. Unsnapping the snaps of the sleeper, Bucky felt around the edge of the diaper, confirming it was wet. He laid his little boy down and uncovered his legs, removing the wet diaper, then replacing it with a clean one before refastening everything up.

“There, that feels better, doesn’t it?” he asked his son, kissing him on the cheek as he balanced him against his shoulder. “Let’s get something to eat, hmm?”

The soft gurgles from Georgie said plenty and Bucky smiled as he went downstairs with him. He pulled the bottle warmer forward and took one of the prepared bottles of supplement out of the fridge, placing it in the device and turning it on. As they waited, he went over to the window and raised the blinds. He always checked the area before he turned the lights on, something that he needed to do for his own sense of security. His excellent night vision didn’t pick up any movement and when he checked with Friday, it confirmed what he already knew. No one was out there watching or waiting. The sound of the bottle warmer reaching its desired temperature reached him, and he returned to the kitchen. Lifting the bottle out of the device he shook it lightly and swirled it around to make sure the heat was distributed evenly throughout the liquid, then he shook a few drops out onto his right wrist, confirming it wasn’t too hot.

“Friday, turn on the lamp beside the rocking chair,” he said aloud as he moved into the living room.

It came on at half illumination, the AI already knowing he was feeding Georgie. Sitting down he cradled the anxious baby, whose sense of smell could already detect the scent of the supplement. A steady whimper for the bottle stopped only when Bucky finally placed it in his son’s mouth, replaced by a sound of complete contentment.

“There we go, food, glorious food,” he smiled. “Now, where were we? That’s right I was telling you about the day I met your Uncle Sam.” Georgie’s dark eyes looked up at his father’s. “I had pulled the steering wheel out of his car from where I was perched on top. He was scared, but your Uncle Steve had a plan. He always had a plan. He broke the car door, pulled your Uncle Sam onto his lap, along with the Black Widow then he pushed against the door and let it carry them onto the roadway. Sam fell off after a bit and rolled hard onto the surface, but he was up right away. Then he ran back to his car and found his wings, put them on, and got right back into the fight. He was so brave. Remember that, Georgie. Someday, when you find your Sam, he’ll be a regular human, but he will be capable of so many things.”

A smile formed on his son’s face as he told him that. It was important that Georgie knew that even with his physical differences, he would find a friend as good and loyal as Sam had been to him, someone he could depend upon.

“Sam was afraid of me that day, but he still tried to keep me from hurting anyone, and he kept me from shooting my best friend, Uncle Steve. Even though it took him a while to trust me and even after I kept pushing him away, he kept after me and we finally found a way to be friends, best friends now. So, let’s talk about the good things I have now.” Another smile was his encouragement. “There’s your mom. Some days I still can’t believe how I met her. Wasn’t even looking and suddenly there she was like an angel had been sent just for me.”

He stopped for a moment, remembering how he first saw her at a farmer’s market in Brooklyn. Sam was visiting and they went to the farmer’s market for fresh seafood so that he could make jambalaya. She was buying oranges at a fruit stall, and one fell, rolling along the ground towards him. He picked it up and came forward with it as she looked up and their eyes met.

“Hello,” she said, smiling, then noticed the orange in his hand. “Is that one of mine?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “Doesn’t seem to have bruised from the fall.” He handed it to her, taking forever to remove his gloved hand from her proximity. “I’m Bucky.”

“Lisa.”

“That’s Sam.”

She smiled at Sam then looked back at Bucky. Neither said anything while Sam just smiled at both of them. Then he shook his head in amusement and went to look for more ingredients. Somehow, Bucky asked her to join them for dinner and she said yes. After giving her his address, he rejoined Sam but watched as she walked away, even when she turned back to look at him.

“Oh, she likes you,” said Sam. “She likes you a lot.”

“I like her, too,” said Bucky. “There’s something about her that just ….”

Georgie squirmed at that moment and Bucky looked down at his son, seeing the bottle was empty.

“Sorry, buddy, I was lost in a memory there,” he said, as he put the bottle on the table and lifted his son onto his shoulder, while patting his back. “Remembering how I found your mom does that to me.” He stood up and started walking around. “Still don’t really know what she saw in me that day, but she came to dinner, and I never laughed so much as I did that night. We ate all the food, drank the bottle of wine I bought and the bottle of wine she brought. Then she stayed over, and we didn’t even do anything, even though we wanted to. We waited until Sam went back to Delacroix.”

Georgie burped and Bucky switched him so that he was cradled in one arm while he picked up the bottle to return it to the kitchen for cleaning in the morning.

“When you get old enough, I’ll have a talk with you about that,” he smiled. Georgie squealed a little. “That’s how I feel about it sometimes, buddy.”

The baby boy was wide awake, so Bucky asked Friday to play some soothing music. They walked around, looking at the pictures on the wall, the books on the bookshelves and even went to the bathroom to look at each other in the mirror. There was still no sign of Georgie getting sleepy. Heading to the closet Bucky found a thick fleece onesie that they used to take their son outside on cooler days. Pulling his boots and a jacket out, he returned to where he dropped his T-shirt and laid Georgie on the couch, while he quickly put the extra clothes on himself. He zipped him into the fleece and made sure his head was covered. Then he picked up the baby and headed to the door.

“Friday, Georgie, and I are going outside for a little bit,” he announced. “If you see anything flash the outdoor lights.”

“Will do, Sergeant Barnes,” said the AI. “The outside temperature is 66° and the breeze is approximately 3 miles per hour.”

Opening the door, they stepped out into the night and walked onto the gravel roadway. They followed it to a small pond that allowed them enough space to view the night sky. For several long minutes, Bucky looked up at it, still amazed that they could see the stars they could.

“When I was a little boy, we lived in Brooklyn. Even though it was a borough in New York City it was still small and quiet enough that I could see a lot of the same stars that we’re seeing here. I would look up at them and wonder if they had planets around them, just like the Sun has planets around it. Did you know the Sun is a star?”

Georgie was watching him as he spoke and looked up. His hand came up, enclosed in the thick fleece of the onesie, and drew his father’s attention onto him. Even though Bruce said it would be a while before Georgie could see beyond this close contact between them, the smile on his face was all the proof Bucky needed that his son knew that he, Bucky Barnes, was his father. Even in the dark, the intense gaze that the baby was giving him filled him with a sense of awe.

“You have so much to look forward to,” he whispered. “You have me and your mom, Uncle Sam, Uncle Bruce, both Uncle Petes, Aunty Kate and Aunty Yelena, Uncle Joaquin, Uncle Thor. There are so many people that care about you and will be there for you, teaching you, loving you, showing you all sorts of things. You’ll learn to read and write, and this ….” Bucky gestured to the night sky. “This will be waiting for you to explore. I believe that with all my heart. I don’t care if you become an Avenger or not, because what’s important is what’s inside, here.” Bucky placed his palm on Georgie’s chest. “I want you to become a good man, which is why we named you after my father. Everyone thought I would name you Steve, and Uncle Sam wanted me to name you after him, but I always knew my first son would be named after my dad. He had his problems, but I know he loved me and believed in me. He would have thought the world of you. Your middle name, Edward is after your mom’s dad. He’s a good man, too, and when he comes to visit, I want you to give him as much love as you’ve already given to me and your mom. Can you do that, Georgie?”

The little boy gurgled, and tapped Bucky on the face with his onesie-covered hand again. Placing his own hand over it, Bucky kissed it, then buried his face close into Georgie’s neck, taking in the unique scent that he already recognized as him. Another squeal erupted from the baby’s mouth, making Bucky laugh at the absolute joy he felt at that moment. He looked around him in the dark then lifted George up to the sky, just like when Rafiki offered the baby Simba to the assembled animals in The Lion King.

“This is my son, George Edward Barnes,” he announced. “I’m asking the universe to keep watch over him and help him to grow up strong and good.” Lowering him, he gazed at his son’s bright eyes. “I hope your mom didn’t see that. She’ll never let me live that down.”

Georgie sneezed, making Bucky decide it was time to turn in. They returned to the house, and he toed off his boots at the door. Sitting them both down on the couch he removed his son’s fleece onesie, then his own jacket. Checking the diaper, he went upstairs to the nursery and changed his son again. Then he sat on the rocking chair with him and told him all the children’s stories he could remember, trying to keep his voice soft and soothing. It must have worked because eventually Georgie’s eyes drooped, then closed and he was asleep.

For some time, Bucky sat there just watching this little boy who had changed everything about his life in the month he had been alive. He was a father now, responsible for another person’s life. Even though there would be times when he was on mission, he already knew he would be Face Timing Lisa and Georgie at least once a day. His heart was here with these two people and until he was under the same roof as they were, he would be incomplete. Envisioning the days when he would teach Georgie to play catch, or ride a bike, or go camping out in the wilderness and really look at the stars together, he took a deep breath and hoped he was worthy of the love this child was already giving him.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked, in an almost inaudible whisper. “I would die for you, Georgie. In a second, I would put myself into the line of fire if it meant keeping you safe and alive. But even more, I will live for you, too. My love for you is unconditional. You’ll always have it. There may be times when we disagree, and even ….” He took in a deep shaky breath. “Even if we argue about something, that love will never stop. That’s my promise to you, my son, my dear beautiful boy.”

Gently, he raised him to his lips and kissed him on the forehead. A contented sleep sound came out of the baby and Bucky lifted himself up from the rocking chair. Sliding Georgie back into the sleeping bag, he snapped him in, then stood at the doorway looking at him for a moment before he closed the door, leaving it open just a crack. He returned to the bedroom and slid under the sheets, next to Lisa who had curled into herself because he, her personal heater, wasn’t there. As soon as she felt his presence, she covered him with her arms and legs, before pressing her face into his neck.

“You were gone a long time,” she said sleepily.

“He wouldn’t go back to sleep, so I took him outside.”

She opened one eye. “Did you do the Simba thing?” He didn’t answer but she could feel his smile in the dark. “You did. You’re such a nerd.”

“He likes it. He listens to me. It’s a bonding moment.”

“Okay, I get it. You want as much time with him as you can. That’s understandable.”

He tightened his arm around her and kissed her on the head.

“I want all the time with him and you, but I’ll take what I can get.”

“Fair enough.” She nuzzled into his neck. “I love you. You’re a wonderful husband and a great dad.”

“Thank you. I love you, too. You’re an incredible wife and mother. By the time we’re ready to have another, we’ll be really good at this.”

This time, Lisa raised her face to his and kissed him on the lips. It was going to be another couple of weeks before they could resume their normal bedtime activities but both of them almost purred at how the kiss made them feel and risked another, deeper and sultrier version. With a sigh, Bucky kissed her on the forehead and tightened his hold. For now, this was perfect. They were happy.

One Shots Masterlist

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[it-was-too-cold-always]

Always Read the Fine Print Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Who actually reads all the terms and conditions? After mindlessly checking a box years ago, our Reader unintentionally agrees to be part of a scientific study to create super soldier babies. To make matters worse, her fellow test subject is the brooding and intimidating Bucky Barnes.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Reader finds out exactly what Bucky wants out of this experiment.

Warnings: arranged marriage, forced proximity, eventual smut, lots of angst

Bucky Barnes was sitting right across from you. His long brown hair was neat and smooth but hiding his face. He wore a white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up. That's really hot, was the first thing that popped into your head. You immediately chastised yourself - now is aggressively not the time. He had a subtle stubble and dark circles, which made his light eyes stand out. The look on his face confused you. You could tell he was pissed, but when his eyes met yours, it turned to...pity? Guilt? Embarrassment? He could barely look at you. Before you had time to analyze the meaning behind his expression, his lawyer started talking.

"Sergeant Barnes has a few stipulations regarding this study. He WILL participate, as his contract demands, and he will do so without resistance. However, he will only be paired with one test subject. If this young lady is the only viable candidate you have for the study, after all these years, then I would assume she will be the one."

"You can't make demands like this, the study may require more than one test subject who could produce offspring. His request is denied," the woman flatly responded.

"With all due respect, you've spent years looking for a subject who has even the slightest possibility of moving forward with the study. It would be foolish to jeopardize his complacency for the chance you MIGHT find another subject. Now if you don't mind, I was not finished with his request," the lawyer retorted. "Sergeant Barnes would like to uphold the young lady's honor. If he is to produce a child with this woman, he would like to do so properly. He would like to propose a marriage arrangement, along with their own house free from your poking and prodding."

The woman looked to the others in the room, took a deep breath, and relented. "Alright, if Barnes wants to live his little apple-pie life, we'll sign off on it. But the timeline for an expected pregnancy just moved up. And let me make this very clear: you are not in a position to make any more demands. After your little stunt last week, you're on thin fucking ice."

With that, she and the others left the room, leaving you alone with Bucky and his lawyer.

"I'll get the marriage license in order, as well as negotiate your living quarters. I'll keep in touch. Who knows what timeline they're expecting now." The lawyer finished packing his briefcase and walked towards the door. No no no no, please don't leave me alone with him, you thought. I don't know what to do or say. Where do I even go? Back to the hotel? After all of this?

The sound of the door closing made you jump, even though you knew it was coming. You looked down at your wringing hands, bursting with nervous energy, unsure of what to do next. Do you introduce yourself? Make small talk? Was someone going to escort you back to the hotel? Your mind was reeling. You knew for a fact your face was flushed and your eyebrows were furrowed, which made you even more embarrassed. You decided you'd ask him what happened last week that put him on thin ice. Just as you mustered the courage to ask, he spoke up.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. His voice was raspy and low, barely a whisper. This confused you. Isn't he just as much a victim as you are?

"I don't understand," you responded, "this isn't your fault. We're both trapped." He nodded slowly, trying desperately to keep composure.

"If it weren't for me, there would be no study. You wouldn't even be here," he said. He was getting angry, his volume slowly increasing. So much for keeping his cool. "Now you're stuck. With me. I'm trying to do the right thing, but you don't understand, I'm not a good person. I've killed people. A lot of people. And now you're stuck." He stood up and started pacing the room. You felt the need to console him, but you weren't quite sure where to start. How do you calm down the Winter Soldier?

"Bucky listen to me. This is not your fault. We're in the same boat; we need to be a team. That's the only way we're gonna get through this." You stood up and slowly made your way towards him.

"You're not getting it - we don't 'get through this.' This is forever. This is the rest of our lives. The rest of our kids' lives. There is no happy ending, it's just being lab rats until we die." His words were starting to sink in and you realized he was right - this little science experiment will never end. As you struggled to say something - anything - a couple agents entered the room to escort you back to your hotel room. Part of you was relieved. Maybe with some quiet time, it'll sink in that you're about to become Mrs. Barnes.

Chapter 3

[imakemywings]

Uncovering The Hidden City: Depictions of the Siege of Gondolin in Popular Culture

KEY WORDS: Gondolin, Hidden City, Turgon, Idril, Tuor, Maeglin, First Age, Morgoth, Earendil, siege, theater, literature, radio, cinema, pop culture

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  Not much is remembered of the famed Elven stronghold of Gondolin, but of a few things we are relatively certain: It was ruled over by King Turgon, son of high king Fingolfin; it kept itself hidden from the forces of the so-called “dark lord” Morgoth for centuries through a policy of careful isolationism; and it was eventually betrayed by Turgon’s nephew, his sister-son Maeglin Lómion.

            What texts survive from the First Age—and few enough of the Gondolindrim survived both the sack of Gondolin and the Third Kinslaying to tell their tales—paint an incomplete picture, and since the end of that Age, we have been trying to fit the pieces together and complete the image. Why do we have such an interest in this tale? Is it because of the likelihood that Gondolin was the last of the Elven strongholds to fall during the Great Darkness, making it an event of staggering significance to the peoples of Middle-earth at the time? Is it out of a sense of grief for the loss of a city which, by all accounts, was a cultural cornucopia at the time? Or is it simply because the family entanglements allegedly involved make for such a lurid tale?

            Pop culture portrayals of the event vary widely in both tone and focus, as well as which characters they sympathize with. Few things remain constant where so much is left to the imagination. Even the few key pieces of information we have about Gondolin and its people are open for manipulating where a playwright or director sees a chance for a more engrossing story. However, the endurance of the tale suggests that nothing can compete with reality in the realm of this particular event.

            The Númenorean Play (Title: The Fall of Gondolin) – Published at the height of Númenor’s Elf-mania, this play is an unabashed love letter to Gondolin and the descendants of Fingolfin. In this script, King Turgon is a heroic figure for the ages; the play opens on his battling through the Nirnaeth Arnoediad as he hacks an escape for his soldiers through an onslaught of orcs. In the wake of Turgon’s coronation as high king of the Noldor, a tense conversation between Maeglin and Idril in an empty hall paints a subtle picture of the tensions waiting to pull Gondolin apart.

            Idril’s husband Tuor is given a very prominent place in this production, which is perhaps unsurprising. Here, the Way of Escape is actually Tuor’s proposition, begun by Idril, though many historians vigorously defend Idril’s legacy as the one responsible for the escape route.

            Having set the stage with the interpersonal conflict, The Númenorean Play wastes little time in rushing through Maeglin’s betrayal to focus on the actual assault. The height of this drama is Tuor’s rescue of Idril from Maeglin’s lustful clutches, and his son from Maeglin’s murderous intent. Clearly Númenor relished the notion of a Man being responsible for the rescue of the Elven princess and the defeat of the king’s greedy nephew.

            Thanks to the copious records both kept by both Númenor and certain Elven enclaves of the time, we have a fairly solid understanding of the cultural impact. The play fell out of favor as Númenor turned away from the Elves, which made it all the more popular among the Faithful. It grew increasingly political in Númenor’s declining years, until it was scarcely about Gondolin at all, but rather a statement on the alliance of Men and Elves. In the final years of the kingdom, it was banned outright by Ar-Pharazon, who claimed it caused excessive unrest, and amidst criticism from his advisors concerning the portrayal of a Man wedding an Elf of higher rank than himself and producing a child of mixed blood.

            The Play of Lothlórien (Title: The Final Days of Gondolin) – Few records survive of the arts of the Elvish enclave of Lothlórien, but those that do are almost entirely thanks to the efforts of lingering guests of Rivendell and Queen Arwen Evenstar of Gondor, who made documentation of Lothlórien’s culture and history a cornerstone of her rule. Therefore, although this play was not well-received by Mannish kingdoms at the time, significant records of it remain and it was performed at least once in Minas Tirith.

            For reasons unclear, the playwrights of Lothlórienby decided to give a more sympathetic view to Maeglin, who here is actually put to torment by Morgoth before revealing Gondolin’s location, and who reaches out to both Turgon and Idril in an effort to repair the damage, but is somewhat coldly rebuffed by both. Dialogue also indicates Maeglin has been neglected since his arrival in Gondolin—here, on the cusp of adolescence, as opposed to in the fullness of adulthood as in other adaptations—and that he is unpopular among Turgon’s advisors, and is particularly misliked by Idril and Tuor.

            While The Final Days of Gondolin presents an interesting “alternate” perspective, most historians today agree that it sacrifices accuracy for narrative, choosing to portray Maeglin’s unfair malignment and ostracization (in some versions, due to his mixed heritage—though Idril’s own mixed heritage is not addressed) as the main cause of his discontent. Today, many feminist groups also criticize The Final Days of Gondolin for the implication that Idril was at fault for not being more accepting of her cousin’s unwelcome romantic advances.

            The Idis Play (Title: The Fall of Gondolin and the Kingdoms of the Elves) – Once again we see an effort by Men to capture the fall of Gondolin on stage. The Fall of Gondolin and the Kingdoms of the Elves is unique in the liberal use of horses on the stage, which makes it particularly difficult to put on nowadays. At its debut in Edoras, it would have been performed outdoors, making life a bit easier for everyone, with regards to the equine actors.

            Once again, the Men of the story take centerstage. This play devotes time to Tuor’s journey to Gondolin, including a meeting with Ulmo, lord of the sea, in Vinyamar, before it dives into the politics of Gondolin, largely from Tuor’s perspective. The play draws strong comparisons between Turgon—who allegedly constructed Gondolin to honor Ulmo—and Tuor, Ulmo’s chosen champion. It devotes considerable time to Maeglin then cleaving Turgon away from Tuor, his spiritual kindred, and Idril, his loyal daughter.

            At first brush, the play is perhaps surprisingly politically-focused for a play of the Rohirrim, but it is possible that the country’s past history with insidious influences on otherwise well-liked kings—one recalls centuries earlier the damage done by one Gríma Wormtongue—that this particular aspect of the fall of Gondolin struck home with the Rohirrim.

            As to the speculation on Tuor’s pre-Gondolin wanderings, it is impossible to say how much is true or false. Whatever Tuor may have seen that led him to believe a Vala wished him to seek out this city has been lost to us. But one thing is clear—Turgon took Tuor’s words seriously.

            Many modern showings of this play choose to conclude the final scene of the refugees’ flight with a few seabirds sailing overhead, foreshadowing the group’s arrival in the Havens of Sirion and perhaps even Eärendil’s future marriage to Elwing, last queen of Doriath, perhaps most famous for the tale of her transformation into a white seabird during the Third Kinslaying.

            The Meadaz Novel (Title: Like Leaves from the Vine) – Like Leaves from the Vine, from Haradrim author Meadaz, focuses almost entirely on the relationships between Tuor, Idril, and those immediately surrounding them, almost to the exclusion of anything relating to Morgoth or outside threats. The book was a raving success at the time and remains on most “classics” lists for its passionate, poetic prose and subtle touch with the interpersonal relationships.

            Like Leaves from the Vine reads almost as classic Haradrim romance epic, beginning with a meeting of Tuor and Idril not long after Tuor’s arrival in Gondolin. The pair are clearly smitten, but much stands in their way, and neither is sure whether such a relationship would be possible (This novel posits theirs as the first romance between Elves and Men, though the accuracy of this claim is doubtful.)

In this novel, Maeglin arrived in Gondolin at the cusp of manhood and was welcomed by his cousin, who has, this far into adulthood, grown weary of rebuffing his romantic attention and mistrustful of his desires, despite lingering familial affection. It isn’t until his attempted assault of her on the night before Morgoth’s arrival that Idril seems to truly give up on him.

            Also tackled in this novel is Turgon’s relationship with and his effort to mentor Maeglin—and Maeglin’s occasionally conflicted feelings about plotting Turgon’s overthrow. At times he seems to almost regard Turgon as a father figure, but he always comes back to his burning ambition and his resentment over Idril’s rejection. With far more time to linger than a play, Meadaz even digs into Maeglin’s relationship with Salgant, who here appears almost besotted, or at least eager to have someone’s approval, as well as Tuor’s reception by various lords of Gondolin, chief among them Glorfindel of the Golden Flower and Ecthelion of the Fountain.

            Precious little is known about the lords of Gondolin, save that one of them called Glorfindel existed, and likely partook in the battle for Gondolin. Like Leaves from the Vine popularized his title as lord of the Golden Flower, but if it is accurate, it is difficult to say. Ecthelion may be an invention of this author, though the name was known in the area at the time.

            Some literary scholars cite the awkward pacing of the novel’s conclusion as a sign that the author wished to end with the guard spotting the approach of Morgoth’s troops and Idril’s realization that someone has betrayed them to the enemy, but felt pressured to include the actual sack of the city for completeness’ sake. Others suggest extended, bloody battle sequences were simply considered uncouth among Haradrim literati at the time. Still other scholars point to the constant loom of Morgoth as a more existentialist threat, meant to stand in for the many non-military threats constantly facing any city at the time and argue that Meadaz uses the forces of “the enemy”—not seen until the very end of the novel—as a metaphor.

Deftly mixed into the ever-shifting interpersonal drama are Meadaz’s own reflections on a culture on the verge of destruction, perhaps reflective of Harad’s long history of struggle with despots and invaders. At some points, the text is positively philosophic, to wonderful effect for the reader who knows already what is in store for these characters.

            The Blue Mountains Radio Drama (Title: Secrets of the Hidden City) – While radio was slow to take off in Dwarvish communities due to its limited functionality underground, use of it came quicker in above-ground diaspora groups due to the speed and convenience of communication. Dwarvish techsmiths quickly set about perfecting the system, and eventually the radio dramas popular among Men and Hobbits also took root. One of the earlier examples of an epic radio dramas put out by a Dwarvish cast and company was Secrets of the Hidden City.

What is truly impressive about Secrets of the Hidden City is how much research clearly went into it. Dwarvish historical productions tend to stick more closely to truth and accuracy than many you will see on a Mannish stage, and this was no different. Entire episodes are dedicated to describing city function and architecture—episodes very well-received by their Dwarvish audience. Historians continue to applaud the show for its commitment to accuracy, and where question arose, working out the most logical or likely truth based on surrounding information.

Playing into the crime dramas which were popular in the community at the time, Secrets of the Hidden City chooses to make Gondolin aware that it has a traitor in its midst and focus on the tension of the effort to root that person out. It takes pains to establish that Maeglin is a liked and trusted figure in Gondolin, suspected by Idril alone, so that to anyone unfamiliar with the tale, it comes as a shock when his treachery is revealed. Turgon’s agonized response is particularly touching; to learn that one he considered his own son had plotted the destruction of all that Turgon built is a crushing blow to the king, who chooses to remain behind and die with his city, in what is heavily implied to be a suicide.

Throughout Secrets of the Hidden City, there is a great focus on how beloved Gondolin is by its citizens, such that listeners are encouraged to grieve Gondolin as if it too, were a beloved character meeting a terrible end. When the characters at the finale wail and bemoan their losses, no one doubts that Gondolin itself is included in their grief, and that some of their tears are for all the history, culture, and memory that is lost with her destruction.

            The Andir Play (Title: Reflection: Fall of a Bastion) – This play is entirely a soliloquy by Maeglin to the audience, which therefore requires an extraordinarily powerful actor to cast as the lead. Here, Maeglin is presented as a disembodied spirit who has rejected the call of Namo, the lord of the dead, and instead drifts in regret and bitterness around the ruined landscape of a Middle-earth deep in the throes of the Great Darkness.

            Throughout the play he laments to the audience about his life, beginning with his complicated relationship with his father, Eöl. While Maeglin insists they are nothing alike, the audience listens as more and more similarities between them crop up. He takes the audience through his wonder at first arriving in Gondolin and his pride at his place beside the king to the resentment and ambition which consumed him as an adult, leading to his eventual betrayal of the city which had taken him in.

            Perhaps the most powerful moment of this play is when Maeglin cries out to the silent theater that when he gave Morgoth the location of the city, it was not fear of torture first on his mind, but rage with Idril who had spurned him, and Tuor who had wed the woman he desired.

            Therefore, while this play roundly condemns Maeglin’s actions in life, it also presents him as a very three-dimensional character, one with the capacity for regret: someone who had the ability to be better, but instead chose a path of darkness. It launched the career of playwright Andir who rocketed onto the scene, with most critics praising the claustrophobic power of the piece. It is also surprisingly historically accurate, though some things—such as Maeglin’s recollection of certain festivals of the city—were inventions of Andir to give more depth to Maeglin’s memories.

            The Oreldes Film (Title: Princess in Peril: The Fall of Gondolin) – Princess in Peril places Idril front and center, and never strays from her. While the film has been criticized for its blatant historical inaccuracies in costuming and set design (Rog’s perm is particularly egregious), one can find few faults with the snappy performance of Ionith in the lead. Take issue with the modern dialogue one might (it seems doubtful that Gondoldrim ever started a horse race with “Cowabunga!”), but Ionith delivers it confidently and with the aggressive punch the director puts behind this entire interpretation of her character. Promotional posters of her from the film were so popular at the time they have come back in vogue as “retro glampunk.”

Princess in Peril does not perhaps present Idril as the most conscientious princess, but it does give enormous credence to her foresight and her suspicions. Additionally, in this adaptation, Tuor does not come to Idril’s aid during the sack: Idril slays Maeglin herself, and rescues Eärendil from the clutches of Salgant, aiding Maeglin to off Idril’s heir. It has been criticized for extending that fight too long—it takes several encounters with both characters throughout the chaos of battle before Idril offs them definitively, all set to the flaming backdrop of the burning city and a rock n’ roll score.

In the final sequences, Idril takes up her father’s fallen sword and charges the palace of kings in time for Turgon to be seized by a firedrake. His final words are an plea to flee with what Gondolindrim she can gather. Idril slays the firedrake and cradles her father’s body in her arms, bidding him a final sooty, teary goodbye before leading her people out of the city.

This focus almost exclusively on Idril comes perhaps as contemporary critics felt she had been overshadowed by the male drama of the tale. However, its own lack of nuance leaves something of a hollow final product, as we have very little idea of who this power princess is. Much of the film’s potential emotional stakes are sacrificed for the at-the-time cutting-edge special effects of battle. But even if the film fails to give us a satisfactory answer, it does indicate that even at this time, curiosity about who this woman was and what she experienced lives on, and if the specifics have been lost to time, we nevertheless remember her as a hero.

            The Jolly Green Goblins Podcast (Title: Real Community Organizers of Gondolin) – Real Community Organizers of Gondolin was launched almost ten years ago now, and at one point was a pop culture staple. Borrowing from popular TV comedies several years earlier, it styled Gondolin as a workplace mockumentary and its razor-sharp, dark humor and lightning fast, quippy dialogue kept listeners in stitches for years.

            Real Community Organizers of Gondolin picks up several years after the wedding of Tuor and Idril, with a meeting of the king’s council. It is the perfect opening to showcase the writers’ phenomenal talent for biting dialogue and quickly establishing characters and dynamics. Listening to the bickering of the Gondolin Home and Gardens Committee became such a staple of pop comedy that it was frequently referenced by multiple late show hosts during the podcast’s run. Similarly well-known gags, which pervade even that audience which managed to avoid listening to the actual show include Turgon’s interview sigh, which manages to convey a deadpan expression even without visual aid, and the constant references to everyone’s inability to leave the city (“I’d kill for a Hithlum taffy,” sighs Egalmoth. “I mean I really would. I better stay inside today.”)

            However, the show rapidly lost favor in the final season, which chose to tackle the fall of the city as a way to wind up the show. It became painfully clear midway through the show the writers had no idea how to balance their typical humor with the overwhelming horror of what was taking place in the city. No amount of sassy quips could overcome Maeglin’s attempted murder of seven-year-old Eärendil or Ecthelion’s brutal death at the hands of a balrog.

            In recent interviews reflecting on the end of the show, writer Cothes admitted the team could not decide between going dark enough to mock the terrible fates many of the characters met, or switching tone entirely to something more genuine, and the result was the confused muddle of the final season. She suggested they might have benefitted from simply taken far more artistic license with the story to make it fit their purposes better, but that they felt constrained by prior interpretations which are often take as the “truth” of the story in the popular imagination.

            Nevertheless, the show’s focus on petty banalities and irreverent takes on the difficulties of ruling the Hidden City show a human side to the characters involved. There’s something relatable in seeing Idril oversleep for the council, in Turgon’s frustration with trying to get the lords to agree on something in Tuor’s realization about just how much of his monthly budget he’s spent on new outfits for Eärendil, in their tendency—as much as ours now—to get caught up in the minutia of things which barely matter in the grand scheme. Real Community Organizers of Gondolin shows us that they were all people, for better or worse, by giving us a look at their less noble sides.

Conclusion

            What can we observe from these often widely varying interpretations of Gondolin’s end? It is one of those “grand tales” of the First Age, a towering myth in which is buried some truth, though much has been lost to the ages, and likely much invented by those that came after. There are some constants: We know there was a city. We know there was a king, a princess. We know there was a betrayal. And the city fell. The residents of Gondolin could not save their city, despite the best efforts of Princess Idril and perhaps of others—and while we cannot effect change of the past, we can do our best to remember them still.

            Doubtless many Gondolindrim died or lived on thinking of how things might have been different. And perhaps that is part of the draw for us as well—that in this play, in this book, in this movie, maybe Gondolin will be spared. Perhaps King Turgon will not die. Perhaps Eärendil’s life will not be threatened. Perhaps they will not have to walk away from the corpse of their home.

Perhaps we are drawn to the heroism in spite of the grimness of Gondolin’s situation: that the lords of Gondolin fight, despite the overwhelming odds; that Idril leads the fleeing civilians rather than place her own life ahead of theirs; that Turgon goes down with his city. Or perhaps we cannot help but fixate on the tragedy of so grand a place brought down by something as small as one bitter malcontent, ready to burn it all to the ground to satisfy his anger.

The tale of Gondolin’s final days fascinates us for many reasons, not least of all because there remains in all the grief a spark of hope: the survival of Eärendil, future leader of the Gondolindrim, and one who will go on to bring succor to the people of Middle-earth, eventually turning the tide against the Great Darkness, allowing a calmer age of peace and prosperity to dawn, even if it did not last forever. Gondolin’s story takes us through a whirlwind of emotions: the joy of Tuor and Idril’s love, the anxiety over Maeglin’s resentment, the anger at his betrayal, the fear of the siege, the sorrow at Gondolin’s end. In living through this memory of the past, in keeping it alive, we remind ourselves that we are all the Children of Middle-earth, past, present, and future, and we have always and ever been together moving towards a softer, gentler dawn.

[razzberrydazz]

Went and found this old circa 2020 sketchpage of Avatar Azula from when I first baked up this idea. More ramblings about said au idea under the cut

Of course they don't know Azula is the avatar, at first. They still assume the avatar must be a sole surviving elderly airbender, or a waterbender in hiding. But due to the imperial carnage the fire nation empire has left across the nations, the airbender avatar died among the slaughter and genocide of the air nomads. The water and earth born avatars died without having discovered they were avatars in the first place, either living a quiet life in the swamp or dying as teens before their destiny could be revealed.

In this au not every airbender was slaughtered, the nomad groups that weren't at the air temples survived the initial carnage, and upon discovering the deaths of their family and teachers, went into hiding. Rumors of surviving airbenders circulate and eventually reach the fire nation, spurring them to launch searches both to eradicate the remaining survivors and to find the assumedly airbender avatar.

Zuko still was scarred by Ozai and sent on his wild goose chase to find the avatar, unaware that said avatar was right under his nose, living with him, his own sister.

Azula didn't know she was the avatar either, though her mother seemed to know, and so her mother disappeared and ran away to protect that information. Azula, the golden child, a prodigy at firebending capable of producing blue flames and propelling herself into flight. How could she know her flying with flames was also bolstered by airbending? Airbending in reality is practically invisible, unless there's enough dust or other debris to show the air flow. If there's so much fire in the air to mask that it is the air itself being bent, no one would suspect a thing. Heating up humid air to produce steam, that's still firebending, right? Right? And lava bending, that's still fire. The little lies she tells herself to avoid the revelation that she is the avatar.

Meanwhile, Aang does find the little village in the southern water tribe, and meets Katara and Sokka. Originally I was thinking Aang would be an old man, but nah let him be a 12 year old, an actual 12 year old, raised by surviving air nomads and Guru Pathik, and Aang ran away after a fire nation ship (carrying Zuko) attacked the nomads while they were resting on a beach. Aang took Appa and flew away, terrified, and somehow ends up at the southern water tribe village days later. He's a kid, he doesn't want to face the horror that the caravan he grew up in is likely dead, so he tries to distract himself with the thought of riding otter penguins, up until the imposing fire nation vessel stopped at the village's shores.

These fire nation soldiers accuse Aang of being the avatar and demand he be handed over, and the events of episode one happen, and through airbending and hijinks alone he escapes and joins Katara and Sokka on a quest to go to the north pole to find the northern water tribe. This time not for Aang to learn waterbending, but for Katara to find a waterbending master.

Azula comes into play when news gets back that Zuko has supposedly spotted the avatar and nearly caught him... and this news comes a day after Azula makes the horrifying revelation that she can waterbend. She must hide this revelation from her father, and from everyone else for that matter. She approaches her father and asks to go on her own search for the avatar, and drags Ty Lee and Mai along for her mission.

Once it's just the three of them alone, already on a boat to embark, she reveals her secret to them, she is the avatar. And if Ozai finds out he'll kill her to make an example of her. Now her goal is to try and covertly travel the world to learn how to bend the four elements, before her father can find out, so that when he does find out, she'll be able to stand her ground against him.

Azula's terrified of her father, and loves him in the twisted way she does, and so perhaps she rationalizes to herself that revealing she's the avatar after having already mastered all the elements would ingratiate her to him, so that she could prove a useful asset. If that doesn't work, she will fight to take his place. A Fire Lord Avatar.... she likes the sound of that.

Of course, over the course of her travels, she'll learn about all the bullshit the fire nation has caused, and that some air benders survived, and that the fire nation committed genocide by ambush against the air nomads. Does she necessarily care? No. She wants to be feared, she could maintain order and balance through fear, right? Right?

Her band runs into Appa on the water, and through various shenanigans and misunderstandings then finally explaining, she reveals Aang is not the avatar, she is, and she needs him as her teacher if she's to master the elements as quickly as she can without her father finding out.

And so the ruse begins. Team avatar keeps up the lie that Aang is the avatar, while Azula touts that she will be his firebending teacher, and as they travel she has him teach her airbending. Azula donning a cloak and once they deal with Kyoshi island hijinks, choosing to dress and don herself up as a kyoshi warrior to hide her identity for whenever they encounter fire nation peeps. If Zuko weren't so dense he would have realized quickly the kyoshi warrior fighting him was his sister. Iroh realized it was her, but kept his mouth shut, knowingly.

Just ahhhh the antics, the antics, do you understand my vision

[luulapants]

Do you feel as though war and genocide soldiers, like nazis or the idf or rsf, etc are all able to be redeemed? Is separating them from society more harmful than allowing them to be in it, alongside the population of people they wish to harm? Can a person that willingly and gleefully murders a child be changed? Is it worth the resources to try, as opposed to using resources for their victims? If therapy is not meant to deconstruct and dismantle white supremacy, can it even tackle their issues effectively? I am asking all /gen btw, I am personally terrified of the fact the once they finish duty, idf soldiers will be back with the general population.

Thanks for the question, anon. There's no straight or short answer, but I invite you to consider the following:

One of the all-time greatest challenges in warfare is soldiers who won't fight - now called the "ratio of fire." Military strategists after WWII studies were told to expect 75-85% of their soldiers to either never fire their weapons or intentionally miss, even when their own lives are in danger. The most effective way to "improve" the ratio is aggressively brainwashing soldiers to believe their enemy is evil and wants to torture, rape, and murder their families. We hear that rhetoric from the IOF all the time.

75 countries mandate military service, including Israel. It's not just to maintain a large army - which doesn't make economic sense when not at war. Young people tend to be progressive. Military service allows governments to impose on young people the nationalist brainwashing they perfected to improve ratio of fire. University professors actually struggle to teach military students in the US because they are so brainwashed to not question and not think independently, which is required in higher education.

In countries like the US that don't mandate military service, we find ways to force it on young folks, especially low-income and people of color. One of the biggest arguments against free college is that no one would join the military. That's also an argument against universal healthcare. Folks go into the military just to get access to basic dental care. Recruiters are allowed to lie to teenagers to get them to enlist. There was a proposal to reduce the US enlistment age to 16 because recruiters were struggling to find young Black men without adult criminal records.

The PTSD diagnosis developed during treatment of US Vietnam veterans. Often, it was not the things that happened to them that haunted them most. Rather, it was the horrific war crimes they themselves committed that made them ill. These were mostly drafted men who lacked the privilege to dodge the draft. They didn't want to be there. They were brainwashed, propagandized, and put in near-constant life-threatening danger. Every so often, one of them snapped and massacred a village of helpless people. Doing horrible harm to others, doctors found, even of your own volition in that moment, caused severe psychological trauma.

We very much do know what happened to Nazi soldiers after WWII. Retributive justice saw 8,000 starve to death in US POW camps. Between 1.5 and 3 million were imprisoned in Russian gulags where they were used as slaves until 1956. About a third died. Those that survived were released back to Germany where they lived traumatized but generally peacefully.

We very much have seen successful large-scale restorative justice work done between oppressed people and their former oppressors in the form of South Africa's Truth and Reconciliation Commission. It was a groundbreaking effort, imperfect, and its efficacy is a matter of some debate, but it did produce a functioning, non-apartheid nation, and it did not kill millions in concentration camps.

I try to look at most issues from a systemic standpoint. War, in my mind, is a crime committed by the wealthy and powerful. Its first victims are soldiers, and its next victims are the people those soldiers hurt. Your average soldier has no personal stake in a war, certainly not the way that politicians and oligarchs do. They are indoctrinated and brainwashed until they believe they do.

Many soldiers do work to deprogram themselves after military service. Many don't even know it's something that needs to be done. Undoing brainwashing is difficult but possible, given the right resources and environments. You also can't undo brainwashing while it's still actively occurring, and the brainwashing won't stop until the systems profiting off it are dismantled.

[smhalltheurlsaretaken]

What would you say to people who think padawans are child soldiers trained for war ?

What other blogs (and I) have already said a bunch of times - that based on Lucas' canon (6 movies + TCW):

1) Jedi training was more focused on diplomacy and such before the war than it was on combat prowess, and you can see evidence of that in Ahsoka's ability to teach a course on politics to a bunch of Mandalorian kids who are her age or older and who are receiving what looks like top education (the Duchess' nephew/adopted son is one of them so it's clearly a good school) or in Obi-Wan's duties with Qui-Gon. Sure, they're ready to pull out the lightsabers at the drop of a hat, but they're both ambassadors, and they spend a lot of the movie trying to impress on people that they're really not meant to be soldiers. What they really do is protect Padmé and give her leverage with their involvement, but she's the one who has to ultimately confront the Trade Federation and force them to comply. There hadn't been a galactic-wide war in like a thousand year, ergo Jedi training was not tailored for war for about a thousand year. If anything, Geonosis showed the Padawans and the Knights and the Masters were absolutely not trained for war.

2) That even during the war, the grown-up Jedi are evidently doing their absolute best to take care of the Padawans. They pull Ahsoka from the front when she makes bad decisions (the Lightsaber Lost episode) and it's not like all the Masters we know about wouldn't immediately jump in front of a blaster bolt for their Padawans (which is what Depa or Jaro DO end up doing for their apprentices, btw). It's not like they could just leave all the teens at home (they likely would have all sneaked out to go fight along with the other Jedi anyway lmao) when there aren't enough Masters or Knights around in the Temple to protect them there either. It's not like they could just leave the Padawans in untrained limbo for the duration of the war - when training in the Force is crucial at formative ages. (Also, we actually do see younglings who are old enough to be Padawans but aren't fighting: the kids who got kidnapped and hunted for sport by Trandoshans. Meaning that a) the Padawans going to war really isn't a matter of the Jedi being happy to throw their kids at the enemy, or they'd have sent O-mer, Jinx and Kalifa too - it's a matter of students accompanying their teachers, because really what else are they gonna do? and b) that Force-sensitive kids are never safe from the perils of the war even if they don't fight in it - so again, might as well keep them within sight)

3) That if you make the argument that the Jedi use child soldiers, then Naboo and Alderaan are on the exact same level. But it's a really bad faith argument to pretend that Padmé's position in TPM was the movie wanting us to see the Naboo government as a messed up child soldier situation, or that Bail and Breha were irresponsible for allowing Leia to join the Rebellion at age 15. And if people agree to be consistent on that one (again, as silly as it is to condemn either the Organas or the Naberries) then the Jedi are by far the more responsible and healthy system. Padawans have the supernatural abilities to outsmart, outrun or outfight a lot of potential threats, including trained warriors or droids. They are not like kids from the rest of the Galaxy, nevermind like kids from the real world.

4) That Padawans fighting in the war wasn't really something we saw in the movies (except on Geonosis, but again they're woefully unprepared for it and they didn't expect that level of aggression on Dooku and the Seps' part). It was the product of the out-of-universe reasoning that if you're going to animate and produce shows for kids, they're going to wanna see kids. My younger brothers and cousins's favorite episodes are probably the younglings eps, because duh.

Ultimately, it all comes down to whether or not people are criticizing the worldbuilding (they can dismiss my first three arguments as not good enough and continue to think the Padawans' situation is messed up, it's totally fair) or are saying that the story itself was condemning the Jedi for 'using child soldiers', in which case I think it's completely unsupported by anything in the movies, shows, or behind-the-scene comments.

[wintersundestiel]

Ten little facts about Dean

He was baptized an evangelical.

As a child, he loved playing with the soldiers and guns John gave him, and the dolls and pram Mary gave him. And he loved it when his Omega mom painted his nails a different color each time.

He eats what the world calls "American food" - fast food, frozen convenience foods, vending machine meals, and anything you can buy at a gas station. And being an Omega, he is wary of unfamiliar foods unless he gets them from his Alpha (John, Castiel, or Bobby). But this is very much influenced by his age. As an adult, he'll be much more open to trying new things.

He is good at shooting at moving targets and has a high percentage of hits. He's not very good at long range shooting and has a relatively low percentage of lethal hits.

He is agnostic - if he were to ponder the meaning of life, he would be willing to acknowledge the existence of a higher power, but would never be willing to practice a religion.

He is much smarter and has a much greater general outlook than those around him think. Partly he deliberately pretends to be a "stupid Omega" and partly he thinks he is not smart enough to understand anything more complex.

He's grown an inch in the time he's known Castiel. And he hasn't stopped growing.

He fell in love with Castiel because he is very much like his father John -- a smoker, a drinker, a taciturn and quiet type who prefers to keep to himself, and very dangerous when he wants to be or when he loses his temper.

For an Omega, he has unusually high levels of testosterone and alpha enzymes, which affects his appearance and behavior, as well as his smell. He produces less of certain components of the pheromone spectrum, and they happen to be the same ones that bother Castiel. That's why it's the only Omega that smells good to Castiel. Thirty years ago, this "hormonal deviation" of Dean's would have been considered a disorder affecting the Omega male's appearance, behavior, and especially fertility, and his parents would have been recommended hormonal and psychological treatment.

He had always wanted tattoos and piercings, but had not yet had the time to get them or to commit to getting his earlobe pierced.

[piratekane]

wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wipwip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip wip

You're terrible.

Impatience is for the Devil, child. And you are his most impatient creature. Another one of Sister Frances’ charming epithets Wrapped in a blanket that she’s sure feels like raw steel wool, helpless to the whims of nuns who can’t stand her ,and a best friend who tolerates more than she’s worth, Ava has two weapons: her eyes and her mouth. She decides to break out the eyes. She bats them a few times, lets them water just a little. Beatrice’s eyes narrow into slits. “Don’t you dare, Ava Silva.” Okay, her mouth. “Bea,” she says softly. “I’m not asking for much.” “You’re asking for me to write a letter to the enlistment office, requesting you be considered for an experimental program that aims to produce super soldiers.” Beatrice’s mouth thins into a line. “That is… much.” “It’ll get thrown out.” “Then why try?” “Because I have to.” The words come out of her like a fountain erupting. She blinks, the tears in her eyes not manufactured this time.  She wishes she could move closer, pick up Beatrice’s hand in hers— she’s wondered for a long time if Beatrice’s hands still feel like they did when they were seven and running through the streets avoiding older boys looking to cause trouble and Beatrice’s parents ire. She can remember them, soft as the softest coat in Ava’s mom’s closet, and how small they were. Now her hands are bigger, silver slivers across her knuckles that Ava only sees when Beatrice lifts her hands to tuck the blanket a little higher around Ava’s shoulders. But she can’t. She may never again. Dr. Salvius’ program is her shot in the dark.

[doobnnoob-tf2]

Hi! I've seen some of your work and I thought it was really cool! I'm just a bit curious tho, do you have any general headcanons for Engineer?

his middle name is Louis (pronounced Louie), his full name being Dell Louis Conagher, his initials being DLC

he was actually completely sober and in his right mind when he decided to take his grandfather's blueprints for the Gunslinger and try it out himself, he used his workshop's tablesaw and stuffed a rag in his mouth and went for it before he could talk himself out of it

he grew up on a farm, even though for the past several generations his family has worked for the brothers and Mann Co. and every Mr. Conagher in his family has been a very successful engineer, they refuse to ever give up their farming business

it's due to that farm that he's almost fluent in Spanish, his family has always given refuge to Hispanic people who came across the border, paying them very well to work on their farm and giving them places on property to live. his family was typically too sucked into the main business but Dell grew up going out to help with the animals and thus learned Spanish growing up and eventually became the family translator

he loves dogs, Beagles especially. he had one growing up that passed away trying to save him from a coyote that was stalking him, his collar sits in a locked drawer on his desk in his workshop to this day

he's an only child, but he has a ton of cousins he's very close to, he's actually the youngest of that generation and deals with constantly getting asked when he's gonna get hitched and produce the next Mr. Conagher, he always nervously avoids the question

he's allergic to two things: biting insects and nickel. the latter is a very minor allergy, mostly just causing a small rash that lasts about an hour after contact. he usually takes something and wears very thick gloves when he knows he's going to be working with it for extended periods

he has so many freckles all over his shoulders and neck and arms from working outside on the farm as much as he did

he has a birthmark on his hip that if you look at it in the right angle, it looks like a bee

he gets along with everyone on the team quite well, but Soldier and Demoman are the two he hangs around with the most. he's often the voice of reason (that they may or may not listen to) when they come up with some of their most dangerous, explosive ideas

he's been working on a sentient Sentry for a long time now. one that'll follow him around on the field while he's moving gear around and shoot at things as they go. the only problem is his latest prototype acted more like a dog than a bodyguard and he couldn't bring himself to take it out on the field for a test run. instead he hides it away in his workshop

[ghostwritesthings]

Summary: 21 years after the day you barely remember, two people enter the place you call home. Those two people may just be more than strangers…

TW// gun violence, cannon events, past trauma, memory loss, knife violence, small mention of blood, PTSD??, flashback, language, reader is 26 , POV switches between reader and Joel, loss of a parent for reader.Somewhat of a third person kinda thing?? I believe that��s it but let me know if I missed anything❤️

Word count// 3,775

“We are gonna be ok”

“I’ll get us out of here I promise”

Gunshots, screaming, faint singing…

“Please don’t forget me”

3RD PERSON POV

Startling awake, gasping for air released from another nightmare, one you can always hardly remember. You sit up drenched in a cold sweat, but you will never get back to sleep so you get up. “Well at least it’s light out.” Said to no one but yourself. It’s always the same, toss turn till you fall asleep, have a nightmare, startle awake then get ready for the day. Checking the perimeter of the house is always first, making sure you’ve kept your home hidden from the outside world. Somehow you’ve kept this little cabin hidden, undiscovered for almost a year…key word almost.

You hear them before you see them, quickly ducking behind a large rock to try to find exactly where they are coming from and how many. Two make voices still a decent distance away from you but too close for comfort, you need to get home. Protect what’s yours, it’s all you have left. Rushing home and into the house you prepare yourself, knife, gun just incase, zip ties.

Using the gloomy weather and the shadows of the house to your advantage, you duck behind the corner of the wall separating living room from the hall. They are close enough you can hear their voices

“You check inside I’m gonna check around the back see if anything’s out here.”

Finally the door opens…

“You check inside, I’m gonna check around the back see if anything’s out here”

Tommy nods before turning to walk the steps into the house.

Walking around the side, there’s not much but getting to the back there’s way more, a garden still holding fresh produce… someone lives here.

He went in alone. “Tommy!” “Tommy there’s-“

Upon entering he freezes at the sight in front of him, his little brother slumped in a chair, unconscious with the silhouette of a smaller person behind him, knife to his throat.

JOEL’S POV

“Don’t come any closer. You reach for anything he’s dead and so are you.” A woman’s voice growls.

“Don’t hurt him, we ain’t a threat. Didn’t realize anyone lived here.” Raising my hands as that feeling starts in my chest. I don’t know how I sound calm but I need to figure a way out, keep Tommy safe.

“Fuck you! I know men like you, you come in, kill, take what you want and leave. You are all the fucking same.” She’s young, mid 20’s maybe but something feels familiar about her, the voice, her hair and the eyes.

“Let’s talk about this ok, I swear we ain’t like that, we are good people I can prove that to you just put the knife down let’s just ta-“

“There is no such thing as a good person anymore, I don’t know what fantasy world You live in but that ended the day cordyceps took over.” As she gets irritated she steps more out of the shadows showing her face and then I realize why she’s familiar.

“I remember you… We remember you. You probably don’t remember us it was a long time ago.” She’s alive, she’s fucking alive.

“What kind of mind games are you trying to play here? Did you forget I’ve got a knife to your buddy’s throat. I suggest you cut your shit and te-“

I cut her off, if I can get her to remember I could save us, save her.

“September 26th 2003. Outbreak day, I was with my brother we were trying to get somewhere safe. We heard a child crying, a woman begging someone not to kill y’all… that’s when we saw it, a soldier was holding y’all at gunpoint. My brother tried to get to y’all before it was too late but gunshots went off, you screamed as your mom fell dropping you. Before the man could shoot you my brother killed him, but your mom was hurt. You crawled to her begging her to get up, you asked to go home but we knew she wasn’t gonna take you home… she wasn’t leaving that field. Your mom held your cheeks as she told you that you were gonna be ok, she had to go but she would always be with you, that she loved you to the moon and the stars. Your cries were all that could be heard besides your mom. She looked at us as she asked me and my brother to take care of you, find someone to raise you and get you somewhere safe. My brother promised her you would be safe he’d protect you until he found somewhere safe for you to go. You screamed for your mom as she used her last breath to tell you once more that she loved you. My brother handed the gun to me and picked you up as you cried for her, carried you with us as we found a place to hide from the chaos as it unfolded. He held you while you cried, made sure you had eaten even if he didn’t, told you it was ok when you woke up screaming from the horrors you saw at an age you never should have. We took you a week later to a quarantine zone once we found out there was one. After we arrived my brother took you over to the FEDRA woman, explained that your family was dead and that we found you. Before the woman took you to be with the other children who were alone you turned back to him, you hugged him as you whispered to him, told him you were going to miss him, to please not forget you. He never forgot you, I never forgot about you either. The man’s neck you are holding the knife to is that same man.” I calmly retold the past, she’s got tears in her eyes but she’s not here she’s somewhere else before she looks back down at him as I hold my breath, unable to read the look in her eyes.

“Tommy…” she says so quietly and tearfully I almost didn’t hear her.

READER’S POV

As he talks it all comes rushing to the surface…

//Flashback//

“Bug you gotta get up cmon baby.” She’s trying not to show her panic.

“Mama?” I whisper in the dark.

“It’s me, we gotta go ok? I’ve got your shoes already”

I sit up still drowsy, it’s dark besides my nightlight that always stays on. I look at her as she picks me up and heads to the front door “Mama where are we going? What’s wrong?” I ask beginning to get scared as I noticed the tears in her eyes. “We are gonna take a little trip ok? Everyth-“ As she goes to open the car door the next door neighbors door bursts open a lady running out but she doesn’t look normal… she looks like a monster. “MAMA!!” I scream as the woman knocks into us clawing at her trying to hurt her. Mama shoots her in the head as I sit there watching, “Mama… you killed her…” I don’t know what’s happening, why did she try to hurt mommy, why did mommy kill her. “Bug… I’m so sorry baby but you gotta listen to me ok?” She hugs me close as she put me in the car. “The people aren’t people anymore, I don’t know what’s going on but I promise you we are going to be ok.”

We drove like I was going to school, but when we got to the big road it’s blocked, a lot of cars honking.

“Shit!”

“Mama! That’s a bad word!”

She huffs a laugh as she smiles at me,”I’m sorry bug I didn’t mean to.”

I watch as she looks serious again before turning off the big road and onto a smaller one, the one we take to go to the stores. A few minutes later we see it as we turn onto the street, there’s fire and people running everywhere. There’s more monster people… they are attacking the normal people and hurting them.

“Mama I’m scared… why are they all fighting?” I shakily ask unable to look away from the window. “I don’t know bug but we have to be strong ok? Look at mama.” I turn to look at her as I cry quietly “I will protect you. I won’t let anything happen to us ok?” She looks at me and I know it’s going to be ok. “Ok mama.”

Then the car makes a loud noise, mama looks panicked and starts frustratedly whispering, “No no no no… don’t do this now.”

The car stops, in the middle of everything. “Ok bug we gotta get out-“ “NO no mama I don’t wanna it’s scary we will get hurt.” I panic even tho I know she will keep me safe. “We have to baby it’ll be ok. Climb up here into my lap.” She’s frantically looking around as I unbuckle myself and climb into her lap. She brushes my hair from my eyes then holds both my cheeks in her hands forehead to mine just like before bedtime. “Ok this is what we are gonna do, on three I’m gonna open the door and I’m gonna carry you as we run. Don’t look at anything, keep your eyes on me the whole time ok? Just look at me and everything will be ok.” “Ok…” “One…two…three!” I hide my face in her neck as the door opens and we run. I can hear everything, the growls, crashes, banging, screaming. It’s so much, so scary but I look at mama and she looks at me for just a second and smiles, calming me down a little bit but not much.

Maybe it’s a dream, maybe I’m gonna wake up and climb into bed with her and she will hold me and tell me it’s ok.

Mama pauses, I look up and see her looking at something, she looks scared. I look where she’s looking and there’s a monster, he’s leaning over someone else eating them. He twitches before turning to look at us, mama runs with me as I scream, there’s a field right there and that’s where we go. As we hit the field there’s a loud bang, and the growls stop, we turn to look and the monster is dead so we are just about to go again when suddenly we hear a voice at the same time a very bright light shines on us. Maybe this person will help us.

“Stop right there!” A man yells, he’s pointing a big gun at us and is dressed like the cops in the movies. “We aren’t sick I’m trying to get my baby somewhere safe.” I look at mama squinting because of the bright light. “Don’t move” he then talks to his shoulder there’s someone who talks back. I look at mama and whimper, she whispers to me “I’ll get us out of here I promise.”

Suddenly he points the gun at us again, mama starts begging. “Please! We aren’t sick, don’t hurt us she’s only 5 years old she’s a kid a-“

Two gunshots, mama yells as I scream falling from her arms. The bad guy is now in front of me , “please don’t hurt me…” I cry to him. Then another gunshot as I scream again and flinch, but nothing hurts me… I look up and there bad man is on the floor. Instead there’s a different man, two men and they both look sad. I turn around as the one with longer hair whispers something I don’t hear. Mamas on the ground, she’s bleeding a lot…too much. I run to her and I try to fix her, maybe I can fix her.

“No mama! Mama! I wanna go home let’s go home I’ll fix you.” I scream to her trying to put her blood back. “Bug,” she grabbed my cheeks to make me look at her, “you will be ok, I have to go now but I will always be with you right here.” She takes one hand from my face and puts it on my heart. I’m crying she can’t leave, she’s my mama nothings gonna happen to us, we are going to be ok she promised.

“I love you bug to the moon and the stars, I’ll be in the stars at night, I’ll keep you safe from up there.” She’s crying now too still holding me and crying with me. I just keep screaming. She then turns and looks at the two sad men who saved me.

“Please…take her…keep her safe please,….find someone to raise her…. somewhere safe.” She’s breathing funny now not like she’s supposed to.

The sad man with black hair answers her,” I promise, I’ll keep her safe,I’ll protect her till I find somewhere safe to take her. Find someone to raise her.” Mama gave a weak smile to him before she looked at me, she gasped funny,” I love you bug…” then she stopped breathing and her eyes closed.

“Mama! Mama wake up please! I wanna go home” I cried, shaking her shoulders because she’s just sleeping, she will get up and we will go home an-

I feel hands grab under my arms trying to picking me up so I grab onto mommy tight,”NO LET ME GO!” I look at the sad man who let go just for a second to kneel down with me, I’m begging him to let me stay with mommy. “I’m sorry sweetheart but we have to go. Your mommy will be ok.” Then another voice spoke,”Tommy we need to get out of here now.” “My name is Tommy this is my big brother Joel we have to go now ok?” Then I quickly grab mommy’s necklace as he picks me up, it comes off her neck and I hold onto it as we leave.

•1 week later•

We walk up to a camp looking place, there’s people everywhere while Tommy carries me. I like Tommy, he’s nice. Joel is quiet, argues with Tommy and acts like I don’t exist. We go to a table as Tommy talks to the lady there her jacket has letters on it, F…E…D…R…A,”Hello I have this little girl here, we found her on…” I stopped listening as I looked around at everything, people were crying, some looked really sleepy and they are dirty just like us.

“Sweetheart” Tommy looks at me getting my attention again. “ I’m gonna leave you with this nice lady, her name is Edith and she’s gonna take you to go get some food and get all cleaned up ok? She’ll take care of you.” I look at the lady who looks tired but she gives me a big smile, it calms me down, she looks nice. I say ok and Tommy sets me down as Edith steps to me holding her hand out.” Hi kiddo, are you hungry? How about we get you clean then some food in your belly? Sound good?” Still nervous I nod my head and take her hand. We turn to leave before I stop, she looks confused as I turn to run letting go of her hand.

“TOMMY! TOMMY!” I yelled. Tommy turned back around to look at me and squatted down as I ran into his arms hugging him.

“What’s wrong sweetie? I know it’s scary but you have to go.” Tommy responds heart breaking at the little one he begged Joel to let stay even though he knew he couldn’t.

“I don’t wanna say goodbye. I won’t see you again.”

“I know sweetheart I’m sorry that I have to go but you will be ok.” Tommy responds looking at me with sad eyes but still smiling. “I’m gonna miss you sweetheart.” “I’m gonna miss you too Tommy. And Joel.” I tell him while sniffling, Edith patiently waiting for me to come back.

“Please don’t forget me.”

“I won’t baby, I’ll never forget you.”

//End of flashback// Readers POV

“Tommy…” It’s him, that means that..

I look up at the man across from me, his hands still in the air looking like he’s holding his breath. I study his face for a second, the brown eyes , the grey brown hair and the beard…

“J-Joel?” I state shakily, coming out more like a question than I meant. He looks a bit relieved. “Yeah.. it’s Joel and Tommy, you remember now?” He says even though I’m pretty sure he already knows that answer.

“I’m sorry I’m so sorry… I didn’t realize that it was… he isn’t hurt bad I promise I hit him in the head to ge-“ he cuts off my panicked ramble

“It’s ok, I know you didn’t mean to hurt him ok? You were scared and protecting this place, your safe place. Hand me the knife ok? It’s alright I ain’t upset. Just hand me the knife and we can go from there ok?” He says calmly, completely honest while slowly reaching one hand out, palm up to signal that he wants the knife but not pushing it. I step closer and hand him the knife just as Tommy lets out a groan.

JOEL’S POV

She steps forward to hand me the knife and I get a good look at her, she looks older but I can still see that same scared little girl in her eyes from that night 21 years ago. She’s got a scar on her right side of her face, runs from underneath her eye all the way down to just underneath her chin, it’s jagged and passes through her lips. It’s clear evidence that someone did it, not a something. She’s been through hell, but who hasn’t. She’s still so fucking young. Too fucking young for whoever did that to her. I take the knife and Tommy begins waking up, he’s got blood running down from his hairline but otherwise seems ok. She backs into the wall as he groans. Then she takes off to another room.

READER POV

I run to the kitchen, I need to find something to help patch up Tommy. I didn’t know, I didn’t mean to do it, how did I forget him when I begged him not to forget me? He’s gonna be upset, what if he decides he does want to hurt me, I won’t be able to-, I cut my own thoughts off, grabbing the first aid kit and two bottles of water when I hear them talking.

“Tommy.. it’s her, it’s bug. The little girl from outbreak.”

“Joel don’t fuck with me, I swear-“

“Tommy I ain’t fucking with you.”

I come back down the hall and back into their line of sight and they look over, Tommy looks like he’s seen a ghost.

I kneel down next to them, setting the first aid kit down to open it. “I’m so sorry Tommy… I’ve got some first aid stuff here it’s not much but it can help.” He smiles at me softly,” it’s alright bug I’m not upset with you I understand. We caught you off guard.” He’s calm, I look into his eyes and all I find is honesty.

I look away and start digging through my supplies, handing a water to both of them which they quietly thank me for and pull out the stuff I need. Painkillers, stitching kit just incase, a bandage along with those butterfly stitches. I look back at Tommy and stand setting the items on the side table I pull closer to work on Tommy.

“Can I look at your head… I hit it pretty hard you are bleeding a little…” I ask, nerves still running high. “Sure, you don’t have to clean me up if you don’t want to I could do it myself.” He says softly, he can sense I’m still anxious. I shake my head, “No I don’t mind.”

“Where did you guys come from?” I decide to try to start asking trying to find out what I can. “We are part of a commune, we were patrolling the area and saw the cabin decided to take a look.” Tommy explains. A commune? Patrolling the area? “What do you mean a commune?” I’m so fucking lost, this can’t be what it seems. “ kinda like a small town, we have families there. We all contribute to the town to keep it all going but it’s got electricity, running water, plenty of food. It’s a good place, let us take you with us. You will be safe there, you can have your own house there and get yourself a job once you are settled.” Joel states, looking at me in a hopeful way. I look to Tommy and he has the same look in his eyes, so I take a minute to process, sitting down on the small couch in the room.

“I don’t know if they will want me there, I haven’t been around people in a long time, I don’t know how this would work for me. If it’s truly safe, how do you know nothing will ever happen to this place you are talking about. Nothing in this world lasts forever anymore.” Trying to reason with not only myself but Joel and Tommy, how can a place like that exist? Tommy reaches over to grab my hand cautiously, like I’m a scared animal looking to flee. “Bug, I know this is a lot all at once and it’s hard to believe it off just talk. But I can promise you it’s safe, I’ve got a kid of my own now, she lives there. Joel does too we can show you, prove it to you if you come with us.” Joel speaks up now, turning my attention to him, “come with us, check it out and if you don’t wanna stay then we will pack you up on all supplies you need and will let you go. Just come at least take a look, you are free to walk away from it if that’s what you choose to do.”

Looking at the two men who I never thought I’d ever see again, to the point my mind blocked them out, I thought it through. Maybe I can give it a chance, they aren’t trying to trap me , they want me safe and they are allowing me to leave at any point. I mull it over for just a little longer before I look back up, “You promise I can leave if I don’t want to stay…” I question, looking between the two brothers. “I promise, if you decide you wanna go and that it’s not for you then you can go no one will stop you.” Joel replies, Tommy nodding along his agreement.

“Ok, I’ll follow.”

// there we go I feel like this was a pretty shitty ending but idk how or if I’m ready to end it?? If anyone wants to read a second part just let me know but yeah sorry that it’s so long the idea has been in my brain for quite some time now so it just started flowing once I let it out. Thank you if you read this far I’m still just starting to write so let me know NICELY how I could maybe do better? Thank you:)

[circular-bircular]

hi, have you ever read "normal dimensions of multiple personality without amnesia"? i really have no idea how to read these kinds of things but i'm super interested in them, and from my very lacking understanding of it, i thought it might be some validity for endogenic plurality? but again- i really don't understand these things so i'm probably misunderstanding. so! i was wondering if you had any thoughts on it, and perhaps could explain it in simpler terms for those of us who haven't learnt to read these things :)

Hello! Yes, I have unfortunately read that article. It is a fakeclaiming, ableist abomination, in my opinion.

A summary of my thoughts: The authors of the piece, in an attempt to "prove endogenic plurality," suggest that DID is fake, that those who have DID just "gave themselves" the trauma, and that the only pathologic part of DID is the amnesia those systems face. It uses the Fantasy Model (a version of the False Memory Model, wherein people just Fantasize their trauma) to fakeclaim a diagnosed system from a case study.

I wrote an entire debunk of the article over on my alternative blog.

I am disgusted by the researchers of this article, and I'm glad you sought out someone to explain a bit more. If you don't want to slog through that full link, I can give a bit more analysis below (rather than the liveblogging I need to do to get through articles such as that one, since I also struggle with dissecting medical literature!)

TW below for fakeclaiming of both systemhood and multiple types of trauma (sexual, physical, neglectful, etc)

The authors base their study on the idea that children experience shifting personality in adolescence, and argue that this is non-pathological. This is widely accepted! Someone shifting personality traits as they grow up is absolutely not the same as DID. The authors go on to argue that the amnesia criteria was added in the DSM-4, and go further to argue that so-labeled "high-functioning MPD systems" could actually be "totally normal people with multiple personalities with no amnesia."

(Note: "totally normal people" is a lovely touch of ableism, as if people with DID are not normal, and totally normal high-functioning systems without amnesia already have a label. OSDD.)

The methods of this study are so minimally described that I fear my 6th grade students produce better lab reports in their science classes. A survey made by the researchers wherein only one subjective personal response on their own criteria indicates dissociative identity disorder, because it 'totally correlates to the DES, trust us guys'. The sampling is even shorter and negligent to the point of feeling purposeful.

Part of the way through the article, they shift their hypothesis. In the start of the essay, they set out to prove that multiplicity without amnesia is a normal experience and that trauma is what causes amnesia. Here, they change the hypothesis to be a bit reversed; that multiplicity is normal, and in DID, amnesia is imposed upon an already functional multiple system. If your red flags have not raised yet for the fakeclaiming, they should be up now.

Especially because, yep, they go on to fakeclaim a case study, Frieda. This individual was diagnosed with DID. This article claims that most traumatized people do not dissociate (with no source for this claim, particularly because the claim is batshit), and that "fantasizers" like Frieda (you know, a woman with severe trauma) just... imagine their feelings to be fully fragmented parts!

It seems to be that they try to argue that these imagined parts are what every system experiences, and people get amnesia if they imagine they should (as seen by their accusations of Frieda's fantasizing).

BTW: Frieda was orphaned as a child, raised in orphanages where she was abused, neglected, and without proper food and shelter, and then molested by soldiers in the war she was living through. The article skips almost all of her traumatic childhood and suggests that, after being raped (while the original case study states "molested"), she gained amnesia for the event, which made her imaginary friend into a disorder.

So... yeah! There you have it folks: all systems are just made up, and DID/OSDD is caused when those systems (who are making it all up) actually experience something that causes amnesia!

[marrowwife]

A WIP INTRO

"Listen. I'm sure it was a good thing, in whatever backwoods village you crawled your way out of, to be kind, and helpful, and friendly. But you matter now, you're Sainted--- we're Sainted. We're the strongest players of the Court. And in the Court, being kind is a weakness. Being kind will get you eaten alive."

His retreat was cut short with a firm grip around his arm and a pair of eyes, brightened almost as gold as they had that terrible day in the great hall. Alaryk wondered if this was the first time Perryn had ever stopped smiling. He wondered, staring at the boy burning with an intensity as fierce as the High Summer sun, if a single smile had been real to begin with.

"Teach me." Perryn said, and he sounded like the roar of a wildfire, like the intimate crackling of a hearth. "You said it yourself, we're Sainted. The same. So teach me how to be like you."

Alaryk wrenched his arm free, and the thing inside him howled and writhed and whispered terrible promises. "You are nothing like me."

ABOUT

Title: Ravenous

Genre: NA Fantasy

Themes: Monstrosity, Queerness, Identity, Trauma, Legacy & Family, The Nature of Good and Evil (Constructed Morality), Nature vs Nurture

Tropes: The Chosen One, The Main Trio, Coming Of Age, Anti-Hero, Moral Greyness, The Boarding School Setting, Medieval Fantasy Setting, Knights vs Monsters, Rivals to Friends to Enemies to Lovers, The Orphaned Hero, Sun and Moon Coded Characters, Child Soldiers (kind of), More TBA

BLURB

Idrismark is a kingdom fractured, the land sequestered between impenetrable mountains and the gnawing, ever creeping monstrosity of the Ravening Wood, the burial place of the Betrayer. What is left of the inhabitable is ruled by the whims of the Noble Houses, originally claiming lineage of the Six Saints, individuals with untold powers who defeated the Betrayer and held back the corrupt magic of the Wood. Now the Houses are the Upper Class of Indrismark's population, all trained in the arts of Knighthood but focused in the games of Court politics.

It is only the Sainted that truly provide safety from the Ravening Wood, those with the strongest blood ties to The Six and a fraction of their power, most often sacrificed in the war against the Wood. Therefore, when two Sainted appear in one generation, a peasant plucked from the masses and a Noble's son, all of Idrismark is watching. The common people in joyous relief, having been subject to the increasing ferocity of the Ravening Wood. And the Noble Houses in rapt, hungry calculation, ready to do anything they can in the mad scramble for power a Sainted is want to inact upon the Court.

Alaryk has known his place since the moment of his birth. Son of the House Lupei. Disappointment to his father. Neither a first son and heir, nor the daughter his father had hoped for in a third child, to be wed in alliance and used as a pawn in the games of the Court. Alaryk used to pray to be Sainted, to become proof of his Father's power, his House's power, to be useful. But the Sainted were rare, and House Lupei had not produced a Sainted in hundreds of years. He should have known that the truth had never been an obstacle for his Father.

The Academy, where all Noble children are sent to learn how to fight the Ravening Wood, was going to be hard enough. Now with the mantle of Sainted balanced precariously on his shoulders, Alaryk must navigate the politics of Nobility, the grueling regimen of squirehood, the baffling intricacies of making friends, all alongside desperately trying to control the power he has been given. Because Alaryk is not Sainted. His magic is not the magic of The Six, it is not pure and good and heroic. Alaryk is a liar and his magic is ravenous.

TAGLIST (ask to be +/-)

@houndmouthed @tragicbackstoryenjoyer @philocalizt @waestlandbaby @andromedatalksaboutstuff @writingmoth @serenanymph @moondust-bard @ashfordlabs @carnocus @real-fragments7

[suchamiracle-does-exist]

Dear @faisonsunreve thanks for the tag. This was definitely a time taking task but so much fun to do. A true time travel to your watching history. To my surprise there are three French films and three Tom Hanks films included. 😄

A few comments about certain choices.

Favorite film of all time: The Thief of Bagdad (1940): The jewel of the film is Conrad Veidt’s insane Jaffar dressed up with the turban.

Best script: Some Like It Hot (1959): The story about two antihero musicians trying to make a living and avoiding gangsters by dressing as women and joining a female band and traveling to Miami is still unique to watch.

Favorite poster: The Empire Strikes Back (1980): Memories from the childhood. Darth Vader’s perhaps a little too epic posture promises you an emotional adventure and that promise will be fulfilled.

"I’ll watch it some day": Napoléon (1927): @missholson and I were introduced to this 6-hour biopic of Napoleon and we were stunned by the shots of the twenty-minute triptych sequence, where widescreen panorama is made by projecting multiple-image montages simultaneously on three screens. Blu-ray is waiting on the shelf.

Big personal impact: Elvis (2022): I wasn’t prepared for the narrative where female gaze and male vulnerability are allowed and validated.

You like, but everyone hates: Angels & Demons (2009): Don’t know today’s reception but when it was released the film was heavily criticized by the critics and the audience. I like both this and The Da Vinci Code (2006), but having more convincing characters, plot and hold for the entirety makes it better than the first one.

Underrated: The Ninth Gate (1999): Polanski is a very contradictory director for his sexual abuse charges, therefore it feels shameful to admit liking his films or considering his films to be valued. Many find Gate as a dull thriller. The film doesn’t rely on jump scares or gore but the mystery around the occult books and the things you can’t see. 

"Why do I like this?": Bachelor Party (1984): This is my favourite question of them all. I discussed with @faisonsunreve about on what basis you should answer this and does it reveal your true movie taste. The 80’s crazy comedy is a silly and out-dated genre and that is why the films of this era fascinate me. Bachelor Party is full of lame humor and over-the-top characters. Yet the storyline is versatile and entertaining. Young Tom Hanks embodies the past. 

Great soundtrack: La Cage aux Folles (1978): Ennio Morricone has said first he has to understand the film, the images, the story and the director’s intentions before starting to compose. I would like to know his study for Folles, because the soundtrack has such a humorous, characteristic and warm sound. 

That cinematography: Furiant (2015): I was balancing between Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (2011) and La double vie de Véronique (1991), but this short film stands out with the way the rural landscapes, the dimly lit rooms and the unspoken moments are visualized (and edited) by the producer, director, writer, cinematographer and editor Ondřej Hudeček.

Criminally overlooked: Angélique film series (1964-68): Yes, you could put almost any Conrad Veidt film here, however I chose this. I have been fond of Angélique films since I was a child. These spectacles tell the story of Angélique in the time of King Louis XIV of France. Romance, adventure, scheming with breathtaking soundtrack and costume design, beautiful Michèle Mercier in the leading role and the flashy way of speaking French offer us an exquisite interpretation from the 60’s. 

Favorite active director: Peter Strickland: I have seen only The Duke of Burgundy (2014) and Flux Gourmet (2022), nevertheless his style of using the aesthetics of Italian genre films and the intimacy he creates is just heartwarming.

Anyone who wants to make their own version, please do and let me know. 📼📀📦🔦