#and i'm tired of people who don't know the first thing about feminism being like 'BUT THAT'S TERF RHETORIC WHAT ABOUT X MINORITY MEN'
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I love it when women hate men. I love it when women are allowed to vent to each other about how horrible and creepy men are. I love it when women form friendships with and prioritize each other over relationships with men(whether they're attracted to them or not). I love it when women put men dni in their bios and on their nude photos and on posts on their blogs. I love it when women refuse to mollycoddle and accommodate entitled male feelings with "but this doesn't mean I hate all men, I know a few men who are great, I love my father/sons/brothers/uncles/male cousins/guy friends" I love it when women complain about men WITHOUT "not all men" being a disclaimer. I love it when women avoid socializing with/refuse to be around/befriend/get close to men because they know men can't be trusted. I love it when women make "kill all men" jokes. I love it when women offer absolutely no concern or care for men's feelings and if their misandry offends men whatsoever because why should we, men are the oppressor class who have raped and killed and abused us and kept us as subjugated as second-class citizens for millennia, they regularly mistreat us and the women in their own marginalized communities still every single day and make this world so much harder and more awful for us to be in, and if we choose to hate them and not spare them any sympathy then so be it, and I don't just mean "men as a class" either, you can be a woman who doesn't want to have anything to do with any man on an individual basis and completely cuts off men from her personal life too and ykw I will love and fucking support you in that because men deserve absolutely NOTHING from us. If they're so tough and strong then they can handle it just like they can handle being lonely. If you are a woman who hates men, ESPECIALLY IF YOU ARE A LESBIAN AND/OR A TRANS WOMAN, then just know that I love you. I love you, I support you, and you are safe here.
#was going to make a post about how much i hate that women aren't allowed to hate their oppressors but i decided to spin it into something#positive instead#this is supposed to be the feminist site that makes reddit mgtow piss their baby diapers so let's go back to despising men and not coddling#their feelings and let's dye our hair blue while we're at it#i am so tired of this new wave of guilt-tripping and gaslighting women who hate men and don't trust or want to be around them#i hate how we're made into villainesses or the problematic ones for not valuing them in our lives or for wanting to guard ourselves or be#safe from our oppressors#and i'm tired of people who don't know the first thing about feminism being like 'BUT THAT'S TERF RHETORIC WHAT ABOUT X MINORITY MEN'#guess what women can also be x minority that you're trying to protect the men of and we get to hate men too#trans women are included when i say women btw and trans men are included when i say men#if anyone has the right to hate men more than anybody else it's trans women esp trans lesbians because they put up with so much shit#from men that even cis women do not and they especially know how vile men are behind closed doors#so#terfs fuck off#radfems fuck off#and if anybody tries to make this post more appeasing to men or 'not all men's this post you are getting blocked and hit with a hammer#feminism#misogyny#sexism#patriarchy#tw men#tw rape#tw abuse#misandry#terfs dni#radfems dni#feminists need to go back to being scary and unpalatable for men none of this 'but some of them are good!' bullshit#men are entitled to nothing from us#and if you try to prove me wrong then you are just proving my point if you have nothing good to say then simply keep scrolling#ok? ok.
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Been boycotting limbus but it's a bit disheartening seeing everyone continue around me with this passing intl women's day. I don't know how to convince my friends to stop without getting into an argument because they're all knee deep into these games. But my real question was.. why? These people are boycotting other products for other things, why are they so adamant with sticking on this when it's proven to have harmed so many people in the small team that made it?
Had a discussion with one who is boycotting and I feel like that "political correctness" seeps into the themes of the game, actually, despite how people tout it as the ultimate anti capitalist game; The City is suffering, workers gruel and die at the whims of corporate overlords, people struggle to find housing, and whatever the fuck Carmen's doing in the light, while it could help people survive longer, is just giving everyone guns ignoring the power structures underneath. It's very strange to me now there's.. no suggestion of uprooting the system at all in the games. No true strikes or protests or even any mentions of unions as far as I know. There's no effort to change what is given
[outside of the seed of light project, which 1. famously Didn't Work and 2. having everyone manifest ego is still just giving everyone guns and going "now don't shoot each other!"],
which is very strange and kind of sad? Like sure maybe an arbiter or something would come and tear it down but surely people would come up with countermeasures? People are really good at adapting around things out of desperation, and surely at least an effort would be mentioned
And then my friend, she suggested something; without project moon's suffering, there would be no project moon. Without the city, project moon can't make games. To end the hell that the characters are in and truly resolve the city's hypercapitalist dystopia, they must stop making money off of them. But they don't want to. They definitely DO want to make more games, noted by the interviews which mention future game concepts such as the distortion detective visual novel. But in order to do so, they must keep the current games "clean" and consistent in their suffering to perpetuate conflict. There is some commentary about capitalism to be had; but it feels more like a "oh, look, people are dying, this is so sad" layer of paint on it at this point rather than something more in depth and meaningful. And I think in enforcing this sort of "we can't fix the system in any meaningful way, let's just live our lives instead and hope something better happens" mindset, it reflects into the players. Kind of ironic how the anti capitalism game must sustain its own horrible systems internally so the owners of the series can: make more money through a very predatory money making system, no less!
Limbus fans don't give a fuck about feminism in kr, they think its a system they cant help fixing so they just play the game as they please and any attempt to disuade them is met with a "stop ruining my fun!!" And "who cares?" The worst ones are the ones who KNOW their money is being funneled into stupid misogynistic shit but don't care! It's insane! I've never seen this level of apathy towards a serious issue before!
Sigh. I hope this ramble is coherent. If I missed talking about something or if you want me to talk more I'm game. Project moon's characters are some of my favorites but you have to admit the themes are surface level shit at some point, especially in later installments of their games. So tired but I'd figure I'd share my thoughts somehow. Take care account admin, youre doing gods work
yeah regarding your first point about fans that keep playing, back in August there was a discussion on this blog here regarding contemporary fandom “culture”- how it makes dropping a piece of media hard for some people and why they feel so quick to defend it. the nature of gacha is also that it gets you into the habit of doing “dailies” which makes them harder to drop, this is not even mentioning sunk cost fallacy. I’ve seen a recent post on the FGO subreddit asking why people still play the game and the top posts by a longshot were ones saying only because they spent so much time and money on it.
For a lot of people (even people who think themselves progressives) misogyny is a non-issue as well so they will not take the situation in South Korea that seriously to begin with. This is in addition to it happening to “other” or “foreign” women in the eyes of the western fan. There is also an aggressive “fuck you, I’ve got mine” attitude some of the fans who want to keep playing have in regards to these women. It’s disturbing to watch happen but unfortunately not uncommon. I find some of the worst of it, in this situation specifically, is when westerners try to tell Korean women (who are boycotting and spreading information) that they are the ones spreading misinfo, or there’s no reason for them to boycott, how it’s not that bad for them, how PM actually didn’t do anything wrong, “both sides” are crazy and wrong, “let people enjoy things”, shit like that. like doesn’t it raise any flags for you that the people most affected by PM’s actions, Korean women, deleted entire accounts of fanart, took back fanmade items from PM’s cafe, started a boycott of LC and made posts in english to try and get the word out to international fans? you must think they’re idiots if you believe this is all some misunderstanding and vellmori quit of her own free will. Come on.
imo it’s impossible to make any meaningful statement critiquing capitalism when you’re writing it in a game that uses one of the most exploitive types of gambling mechanics. I hope I don’t have to explain to anyone why this is absurd. You don’t need to expose young people to gambling addictions in order to fund new games. At the same time, things an author writes (or things that the reader infers from the writing) do not always reflect their ideologies or actions in real life and they can sometimes seemingly be at odds with one another. This is something fans have to reckon with, and not just by saying “actually hatsune miku made limbus company” or whatever. Personally, I can’t take PM’s “anti capitalist” or “feminist” or “revolutionary” work seriously when in reality they have mistreated employees, sued labor unions, acquiesced to incel demands and then later added a meme into the game from that incel community. On the other hand people struggle to believe Project Moon could do anything wrong like this because of the stories in their games so they vehemently defend PM, which at some point just feels naïve. well hopefully this is the type of answer/discussion you were looking for lol thanks for writing 👍
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I have been mulling over this conversation about feminism, motherhood, and transphobia and I have a few things that I'd like to add, if you'll hear me out.
I don't think the OP was trying to discourage discussing sexism or police what anyone is saying. I think they were trying to raise a discussion about how when we discourage people from writing female characters (and especially Lily) as anything BUT a mother, it treads on this idea that a woman's value is intrinsically linked to motherhood.
And that is, unfortunately, a tactic that many individuals (including JKR) use to fuel transphobia. It might not make sense on the surface (it didn't to me at first) but transphobia is sometimes disguised as feminism. As something "protecting" women.
This is something that JKR specifically does. I'd highly recommend reading a bit on it. ContraPoints also has a really great video breaking it down on YouTube.
Please know that this is coming from someone who is a book HP, canon character fan, but one who puts the very real life impact that the author is having on very real life people above that. In the books, she has inextricably linked the "goodness" of characters to motherhood. And that's something that in real life, she has linked with feminism and then wielded against the LGBTQ+ community.
Look I understand where this is coming from, but I'm just extremely tired of this conversation being dumbed down to "should these characters be allowed to be mothers, or would that be anti-feminist/transphobic?" That was never the talking point.
We're talking about the ease in which fandom ignores and/or rewrites female characters into obscurity, and the reluctance for them to acknowledge and/or include them at all.
Framing it as us only wanting them to be included because they are meant to be mothers does this topic an incredible disservice.
#feminist talking points being used to fuel transphobia is not the fault of the feminist talking points#its the ones who use them that way#ask#anti marauders fandom#harry potter#hp
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Lele, I have a rambling though
We always have discussions about possibilities for SJM future books (especially acotar 5) and I always read interpretations that are done so very tastefully and with a lot of knowledge on text interpretation, book context and narratives
but the thing is… ppl always treat SJM as this super hiper mastermind and after HOFAS and how messy and not good it was (honestly it was terrible) … I’m a little afraid about acotar 5 and sjm choosing to go with the easiest way (which, for me, would be choosing Elriel - since with Gwyn she would have to treat her trauma her carefully and be more cautions on her narrative) and I don’t know if I see her doing it 😓
(Also… I would like to say as my last though of someone who is following her since 2018 - that SJM loves to write about powerful woman and the friendships between them and their bonds but to let the fandom be where it is today… young impressionable girls treating each other with such hostility and disrespect… I know she probably can’t say anything bc of contracts but man is a hard pillow to swallow that she “let” the fandom be where it is today… which is a horrible place.)
Anon, have some rambling thoughts of mine!!! hehehe
A big difference between acotar and hofas is how thoughtfully she generally treats the acotar characters. I've been thinking a lot about this the past few days and the main thing I dislike about hofas is how the plot and world building absolutely take over everything to the detriment of the characters. I cannot understate how much I dislike Bryce, and I've always pinpointed her lack of consistent values as the core reason why. hofas really, really emphasized that writing flaw. Not character flaw, but writing flaw.
People acting like sjm is some mastermind drives me crazy when we can see all the plot holes and inconsistencies and retcons. One of these days, someone should make a list of them. Anyway, she mentioned rereading the acotar series sometime last year, and I would bet you good money that she did so in order to see what she can use. She has said explicitly that she isn't great at world building and she has also said that she didn't plan the crossover until she was writing hosab. That means any connection we see between hofas and, for instance, acomaf, is a result of her going backwards to see what she can use. Not the other way around. She "planned" in the sense that she wrote really vague stuff in the first place so that she could use it how she wanted to later on. That has become really apparent to me with the crossover.
Like... for example, Mor's power is "truth". Vague as fuck, right? I would bet good money (again haha like I'm rich) that sjm didn't even know what that meant in acomaf other than "I need a reason for the mortal queens to trust Mor". And then she'll figure out the mechanics and technicalities later and the fandom will call her brilliant for it. *facepalm*
I don't see e*riel being easy at all. But that's all I will say about that hehe.
Gwyn's story aligns perfectly with what sjm has already been doing in acotar, with Rhys and Lucien, and to an extent Nesta. I don't have any concerns there because I think her strength is in her characterization. (CC is just... another beast.) There was an interview she did a while back where she talked about the movie Promising Young Woman and it really emphasized to me that sjm's particular brand of feminism revolves around gender and sex. This isn't a critique, just a statement of what I've observed. My point is that she is very aware of rape culture and has strong feelings about it and gives characters the space to heal on page, and so that's not really a concern of mine, especially in acotar.
To your final point, I got SO frustrated the other day in the group chat, @sabrinasam said it was the most frustrated she's ever seen me haha. I'm so tired of sjm and the publisher being coy about this!!!! But mostly, I am so, so sick of people in this fandom treating each other like shit just because they don't agree on ships. Like it's one thing to have notps and brotps and to be annoyed by or even hate certain characters. It's a completely different thing when people feel totally comfortable going out in public and treating other actual, real, human people like absolute garbage because of those feelings.
Azriel is never gonna lick your fucking home entertainment center!!! Get the fuck over it!!!!!!!!!
I don't think that sjm is at fault for this because I think that people are responsible for their own actions. I also fully believe that the people taking screenshots and mocking them publicly (of people who probably have them blocked anyway, fucking stalkers) or just outright attacking people on different platforms would be doing that exact same thing whether it was about sjm or not. Like you could just stick them in another fandom, and these people would act the same deplorable way.
Anyway. I'm fucking tired. I'm still excited for acotar5 and will continue that series and when I was doing a lil voice chat with my friends for hours last weekend it revived my enjoyment of acotar and ToG. The fandom just makes it a lot of work, trying to have fun.
#I was watching Will and Grace the other day#and Jack calls his crotch his Home Entertainment Center#I repurposed that joke because I laughed so hard#antielriel#ask#anon#hofas#hofas spoilers#acotar#fandom wank#acotar fandom#sjm critical
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This ended up being longer than i intended for it to be. I think the fact that there's a racial divide between pro breed louis and anti breed louis is also something worth thinking about. a lot of the breed louis fics are by black writers. a lot of the anti feminisation of louis and breeding of louis complaints are by white writers. why is that?
jacob is allowed to be wrong about louis. he was very clear about how in the begining he approached the scenes where louis faces racism in a certain way that rolin had to tell him i know you hate this degradation but i need your character to capitulate to these racist characters. in the same way jacob might hate louis' submission to lestat but louis does submit. in their first sex scene lestat makes him submit. why does louis do it? we can say maybe because he doesn't have a choice or because he sees it as freedom to not have to put on a hypermasculine dominant hat like he does outside.
now back to the racial divide in the breeding kink and feminisation thing. louis being a queer black man means his queerness interpreted through blackness is different that when interpreted through whiteness. that's a cultural thing and not necessarily racist on white people's part. it is common to use words like mother and girls to refer to queer black men and refer to their pussy or coochie when talking about their asshole in black male queer cultures. that doesn't make it homophobic. that doesn't mean all black male queer people do it or like it.
i mean the fandom keeps calling lestat mother which is actually stolen from African American queer communities. the motherisation of lestat is a whole other conversation (his limp wrist and cinched waist are doing a lot of heavy lifting). but the interpretation of his queerness and the ensuing feminisation (which is a misread because the show and sam's interpretation have him as a masculine, dominant patriarch) tends to come at the cost of louis' queerness which is almost made invisible. i think it's cultural and not necessarily racist how the broader white fandom interprets louis' queerness.
I don't know if you want to post this ask. i understand if you don't. i also don't know if you're black. you might already know everything i said. regardless, if you don't know the things I've talked about maybe you can research a bit to see what I'm trying to say. that is if you're interested. i can imagine you're tired of this particular conversation.
No this is really interesting and well-written, thank you for sending this!
I'm not black so i don't want to overstep (though we romani are also often seen as aggressive and unfeminine by white people so i relate to that experience), but it does seem to me that many black fans like or at least don't have anything against feminizing Louis, and majority of the fans who actively dislike it are white. I think you're right that white and black fans look at Louis' (and also Lestat's) queerness through different lens because of cultural differences. The show is also rather ambiguous sometimes and filtered through several layers of narrative, and what happened, how different characters experienced it, how they are remembering it now, what they are narrating, and how the actors are interpreting it can all be different things.
I don't want to start going around policing people on what kind of stuff they're allowed to like reading or writing, and like i said in the original post people have such complex reasons for liking what they like, not necessarily racist ones, and we can't really generalize any group of fans. Like for example i think some people who prefer top!louis and bottom!lestat do it simply because they just want to see Lestat get railed and it's not deeper than that lol. At the same time fiction doesn't exist in a vacuum separate from reality, and i think it's good for white fans, and also for non-black poc fans like me, to sometimes pay attention to how we're viewing black characters and where our ideas and preferences are coming from.
I may be a bit tired of this conversation because it never seems to go anywhere since people don't change their opinions, but you'll probably catch me tomorrow coming here to complain again about some tweet calling Lestat a mother when he's doing something blatantly patriarchal lmaoo
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So this is a very minor thing and I'm still unsure about your page and everything, but you seem decent (I'm not a fan of the ex-feminist and ex-lesbian terms myself, but eh, to each their own) and like you just go "I enjoy more traditional gender roles. Others can do what they want as they please, this is just me." Which is a fine stance, all people are entitled to their own choices... ok, look, this got off track. I'm just wanting to say this isn't coming from a place of malice but I do have two things to say, one is a question and one is a minor correction.
Question: Why call yourself an ex-feminist, like, I see where you're coming from, but the point of feminism, as I've always understood it, is to let women live the life they choose and want, which includes both the "generic" feminist people think of, but it also includes women in traditional roles who are perfectly happy as they are and don't prevent others from doing what they do to be happy. Just wanted some clarification on that.
Correction: In your pinned post you referred to nonbinary as a sexuality, nonbinary relates to gender, not sexuality. Minor thing, but figured I should mention it.
Again, sorry if this came off as mean-spirited or anything, it's just the best way I could think to phrase it all.
I love long questions and I'm going to spend time trying to provide a good response.
First I'll just say that I wrote my pinned post when I was tired and in one draft. I think I should go through it and fix some errors like that lol.
So I call myself an ex feminist because I simply went from being a feminist who hated men and was basically every bad stereotype to me now who just finds love and acceptance with elements of like 50s culture, patriarchy, and the like and of course finding love for men and masculinity. Not everything mind you, there's plenty of unsavory things that should be left in the past but I find value in modest dress, general abstinence from drugs and alcohol, no tattoos or piercings on my body, shit like that. I stick with the label mostly because 1. it helps drive engagement which is good for social media growth, but more importantly 2. It to me symbolizes a level of personal growth that I went through and that to me is extremely valuable.
I have reasons for calling myself an ex-lesbian. Short version is that I had a series of very negative experiences with a number of lesbian partners, friends, and community and I didn't want to identify with that label. I don't really know what other label to apply to myself so I just stick with ex-lesbian.
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h!rry p0tter stans are pathetic, disgusting brats and i want them all to block me now so i'm going ahead and posting a rant about the terrible wizard books and their terrible fandom and their embarrassing fucking behavior just to get it off my chest and hopefully get them to STOP FUCKING FOLLOWING ME i swear they just keep popping up with their dumbass usernames and slytherclaw in their descriptions. this is long and rambling but i just really need to scream into the void for a bit
this also goes 99% only for adult hp fans. if you are fourteen and still obsessed with hp that's okay. you're fourteen. you'll grow up someday.
Unfortunately i must give my stupid "qualifications" to hate hp and its fans first i guess. Yes, from ages 8-17ish maybe, I loved hp, it was my main special interest/ocd obsession for pretty much the entirety of that time. blah blah read the books a zillion times wrote fanfic first tumblr fandom *checks watch* went to the theme park owned merch was in the high school hp club etc. I still unfortunately have a hp username in some old things where usernames are permanent. Stuck and unchangeable! Alas. Okay are we done? Do you understand that i used to be one of you morons before i got old enough to have critical thinking? am i deemed worthy to talk about this now???
cool great thanks. Anyway. I'm TIRED of being expected to be patient with hp stans!!!. It's their childhood! It's nostalgic! It's their hyperfixation and their special interest! Wizard boy SAVED THEIR LIVES and you have to be PATIENT with their clinging to it twenty fucking years later!!! ...No actually. No i fucking don't. No trans person, no jewish person, nobody needs to put up with your sobbing speeches about how actually you HATE jkr but you just LOVE hp so goddamn much and you're sTILL A REAL ALLY. can you at least, at the bare minimum, if you MUST engage with HP content, SHUT UP about it?? why can't you even do that??? good god.
I think people are still clinging to the idea that JKR is actually a liberal who's just really stupid on trans rights. Don't get me wrong: that's still awful that they're willing to throw trans people under the bus like that! If that was true I would still be saying to not support her and to shut up about hp for thirty fucking seconds! However, that is just...objectively not true. Woman is a fascist. Woman is constantly expressing support for conservative laws and measures. She has done effectively nothing to support abortion rights or feminism or lgb rights in years, she LITERALLY ONLY cares about hurting trans people and preventing Scottish independence and keeping her taxes low. I believe she recently dusted off her old fucking charity to sponsor the education of some women in Iran? She used to do stuff like that pretty regularly but now she so, so rarely does. And even when she does it's just like. ticking off a box and she's back to going on another unhinged rant about trans people. The people she has allied herself with are far-right, neo-nazi, white supremacist groups. She has happily expressed support for anti-abortion activists, pro-LGB conversion therapy pundits, self-professed fascists, people who believed jews control the universe, and even rapists including depp and m. manson and various horrific "gender criticals". OVER AND OVER. She's fash! She's far-right all the way fash! Any "lefty" terf who's allying themselves with her is straight up in the frog/scorpion situation and i will point and laugh while also being amazed just how incredibly stupid and selfish people are. And she keeps siccing her followers on small trans accounts without money or fame on their side, who then get harassed for fucking YEARS on end! She knows what she is doing! She is a bitter, twisted, evil lady!!!
anyway. What I know most about, being jewish, is what she's said and done in the jew hating department. so now i'm gonna rant about that specifically jewish stuff.
I am sick of her antisemitism being reduced to "there are goblins" and similar. Especially bc people then point to, like, fucking owl house and whatever and go "see this is also antisemitic!!" Well, technically, yeah. it is. but like...accidentally. I'm pretty used to seeing evil big-nosed money-loving freaks and lizard people all over media, I've just kind of grown up with that. Jo's antisemitism is not accidental. Joanne has Griphook as the *literal* devil on Harry's shoulder throughout the gringotts saga of book 7. He's the one who convinces Harry to start using unforgivable curses (remember that shaun video in which he points out that the potterverse has no "bad actions" only "bad people?" yeah harry uses the torture and mind control spells like, repeatedly, with ZERO FUCKING REFLECTION OR CONSEQUENCES OR CARE and it's fine, they're such bad books man.) Griphook literally leads harry away from the light of christ and backstabs him. bill warns harry that goblins are Not Like Us, because they have evil and weird and unholy traditions and magic and steal power from wizards. jo specialized in studying the historical roots of legends and fairy tales throughout uni and has talked about them at length. she literally dual majored in "classics" (and french, strangely, considering how she writes french people lmao. failing upwards?) And yet she managed to go as dark and bad as possible on every occasion. Joanne knew exactly what she was writing. AND EVEN IF SHE DIDN'T, somehow, she has doubled down in subsequent years. There was no, "yeah, sorry about the goblins and the house elf shit, I dunno what I was thinking but we won't be doing that anymore!" House elves and goblins continue to be featured and doubled down on, between pottermore, the terrible fantastic beasts movies, and this game (you can own your own slaves in the game i believe, hooray!) Fantastic beasts even features a ***part-house-elf*** woman. Let THAT horror sink in. The franchise has doubled down on and actively CHOSEN TO FOCUS ON its worst and darkest parts and there is no more way to hide behind any semblance of ignorance at this point.
(The same goes for Umbridge being raped by centaurs. There is NO FUCKING WAY that was not deliberate. The woman literally studied english fairy tales for school. SHE KNEW. Rape is a punishment in HPland. Hermione literally gets sexually assaulted by a guy and Harry tells her it serves her right for leading him on and the book nods right along with him. Joanne hates cis women too lol)
People have written at length about the game's plot and why it is clear, blatant, not accidental antisemitism and blood libel. The game's original director was a far right gamergate lunatic and I SINCERELY doubt he was the only one of the crew who was. None of this was an "oopsie poopsie we made a big nosed shady advisor" and the devs are not the sweet widdle victims you morons want them to be! And continuing deeper into the franchise: there's a whole lot of nazi imagery surrounding Grindelwald in Fantastic Beasts (originally played by fucking Depp the wifebeater who collects nazi memorabilia for kicks so that's on the nose). Guess which main character turns to the dark side and starts doing evil nazi shit? The one named Goldstein. The Jew. Yay! Also she was, like, mind controlling her good christian boyfriend to force him to marry her, so there's a lot going all the way down on that one huh.
And honestly, even when people are expressing allyship it's all so fucking performative! You all just keep going "oh there's goblins" and then recommending fucking alternatives. I don't want to hear about how pjo/earthsea/witch hat atelier/owl house/twilight/animorphs/whatever is Wholesome And Perfect and Good! This is not an opportunity to stan! Do you people really think, when discussing a violently antisemitic game that's part of a franchise made by a fascist, the appropriate way to end your twee little thread is by promoing some OTHER children's media that you think has the morally pure high ground? Do you realize how performative that makes your so-called allyship feel?? Do you genuinely believe that these GROWN ASS ADULTS simply did not know that other children's media about wizards and magic exists in the world and that is the only thing driving them to keep worshiping at joanne's feet even now?? You think they just genuinely believed this video game is the only video game in the universe? The really rich rec I keep seeing people give is fucking NARNIA, which features all the blatantly Muslim-coded characters being rejected from heaven and presumably ending up in hell when the world ends. Like Susan will one day, because she turned away from Jesus and is a disgusting slut who likes boys and lipstick too much. Narnia fucking sucks. Even the shriekcast people cannot stop sucking off narnia it's so goddamn annoying
The whole thing reminds me of how, at peak 3h-popularity-fighting, there were many long threads going around twitter about how Hubert falls into the "shady advisor" stereotype and how Rhea and co are secretly lizards and how that's not great. Yeah, sure, not great, old stereotypes rooted in antisemitism that media can't seem to turn away from. And then those SAME PEOPLE would talk about "instead stan tellius!" Tellius which features these characters, who form a tribe specifically known for being backstabbing greedy traitors obsessed with money, who sell one of their blond white beautiful allies into slavery for money. THAT tellius. And that's what i mean by performative fucking allyship. Based on their own behavior, none of those people appeared to give a real shit about Jews. It looked like they were only pretending to so they could come up with a way to dunk on Modern Fire Emblem and encourage people to play Classic Fire Emblem. And not that the modern games didn't deserve criticizing! But it was so, so clear that none of them had any fucking clue what they were talking about, were just pointing to tropes and going "antisemitic!" without bothering to learn the hows and whys and critically analyze the context. So I do strongly encourage people to try and learn about WHY certain media is so bad and, while intent certainly isn't the be and end all, why certain portrayals are so much worse than others. Naesala is a damn sight more of an antisemitic caricature than Rhea, and fucking obviously the wizard school game is worse than owl house! Also reminder that the great ace attorney localization uses antisemitic slurs and everyone in the fandom ignored that :) performative asses
aNyhoo. The antisemitism in HP is not just "there are goblins." It is much worse, much more insidious, and Warner Bros, avalanche, etc have all joined right in, doubled down, and made it very clear that antisemitism as well as slavery apologism is a key part of the series and not going away for a good long time by making it EVEN WORSE in the games and movies. even if she wasn't seeing a penny of any of it (lol!) her ideas are being happily and uncritically spread by you fucking lunatics.
and every time someone gets an anon going "maybe don't support hp?" and you clutch your fucking pearls and fall to the floor crying about how it's TRANSFORMATIVE and YOU HEADCANON HARRY AS TRANS and IT WAS YOUR CHILDHOOD and blah blah fucking blah i both lose even more respect for you and become even more certain that this franchise is not worth transforming. it's simply not. hp is rapidly becoming a symbol of hate, one that fascists flock around and support (yes, they were burning the books twenty years ago, but IT IS NOT TWENTY YEARS AGO YOU ARE AN ADULT NOW MARJORIE, it's a franchise that the fash love now, and why wouldn't they? it espouses all their ideals!)
Just grow up. It is really, and i mean this from the bottom of my heart, genuinely unhealthy and sad to still be so deeply tied to your favorite book when you were ten. It's time to move on. It's past time to move on. Thank the books for what they did for you and let them go. Personally, I can't engage with any HP media. I derive zero joy from it and haven't since like...I don't know, 2016ish maybe. Even the last dregs I clung to were more fond memories of sharing the books with friends and family. I truly don't understand how anyone can still like them knowing what they now stand for. But even if you're not like me, even if you've managed to fool yourself into believing this is a franchise about love and kindness and leftism (lol), it's time, it's PAST time, to move forward. Nothing wrong with liking old media or children's media or even problematic media (to an extent ofc). But when a series is doing this much tangible harm, when you are so deeply entwined with it that you feel you have no identity without it, when nostalgia has become more important than your principles...then you need to let it go. If you don't care enough about trans people, or Jewish people, or rape victims or Black people or Chinese people or Irish people or Scottish people or gay people, then do it for yourself, because being shackled to your childhood like that is simply not healthy.
Okay that was the only paragraph I was going to be nice in back to bitching. Read another fucking book, engage with other fucking media and no i am not going to give you recs and hold your hand and tell you you're a good person for doing it!! do it yourselves you are ADULTS. and remember: the difference between kanye and jo is that one of them has lost his filter and is saying the quietest parts the loudest, and also is black, and you should think long and hard as to WHY you find one of them acceptable to support and not the other, because they very much share the same views and have expressed support and love for the same people.
Personally I don't see why you'd even fucking pirate this game. It looks like another cookie cutter blandass triple a runs like shit but gets straight 9/10 mess. like it's just cyberpunk again but wizards. it's yet another flat bland Skyrim Two. by devs who are known for their crappy shovelware. And every hp game that has come out has sucked (did you know they had a pokemon go clone? i think it only lasted like a year. lots and lots of shitty f2p stuff in general.) Why do you need this game so badly? why are you SO wrapped up in nostalgia that you're willing to support terrible shit and play a meh game? there is something fundamentally wrong with your morals if this is where they end. always the same people who cry about how there are good slytherins or whatever but don't give enough of a shit about people to care about, like, real things.
Also if you truly believe you need to "support the devs" by buying this game: where do you draw the line, then? What makes these particular AAA devs need my $60 so badly? By that logic I apparently need to buy every single game in the world to support every single dev in the world?? WHAT??? If you say this you are PROBABLY lying, but if you truly believe it you are incredibly stupid. thanks.
Also professor fig dies at the end in all endings and rookwood is the one behind anna's curse he framed the goblins for it <3
(also this all goes for diehard aot stans too i want you and your nazi propaganda anime to fuck off too thanks)
#txt#sorry i'd rather not add any tags#but obvs if you don't want to read more about this horrible shit#then don't read this#if hp fans wanna come at me though. sure fine. whatcha gonna do#shove me in an oven like your beloved jo wants to? we're online so you can't :)
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I don't wanna have to be a feminist.
I don't know how to explain this but like I didn't contribute to women's oppression, I'm a victim of it so why is it on me to solve an Issue I didn't create in the first place.
I'm just so tired. I'm so jealous of men, they can just do whatver they want, but everything I may do or say is scrutinized and seen a as a statement.
Ugh I just idk at this point I feel like trying to survive in a patriarchal society is easier than trying to enact change .
I feel like there's this pressure on me like if I'm not a feminist then I'm a gender traitor of some ssorts which I guess isn't totally wrong but like I didn't ask to be a woman I didn't choose this.
Long post warning! I don't wanna put any of this under a cut so deal with it and scroll if you don't wanna read lmao
Sorry for the wait for the response I've been a bit tired this week from the surgery and my school work. And not gonna lie I've just been doing a lot of reading for my peace studies class so my perspectives on complacency is a bit skewed right now towards dislike. In the drama of peace studies and peace leaders, you'd honestly be looked at as a bit of a coward. I mean, really? Everyone knows it's easier to just stick with the status quo, when has change ever been easy, especially social changes and fights against oppression and the misogyny that's so deeply rooted in our cultures. Of course it's not fucking easy. Of course there's times it feels bleak.
My favorite professor once asked us if any of us had been to one of the local protests that had happened. None of us raised our hands. She looked a bit shocked as she took in the fact that in a class of roughly 30 adults, all working on moving final projects all semester about commemorative practices about deeply horrible oppressive governments, genocides, and wars, that none of us could even find the strength to go to a local protest. She asked if any of us usually go to protests or supportive demonstrations at all, ever. Again, no one raised a hand. She said, "none of you are activists?" and we all sort of looked around a bit embarrassed. If she were to ask this question a few decades ago, hell the 70s were a moving time to be on a college campus especially, you'd never guess the state of so many college students nowadays being so uninterested in social movements and social changes. So many of us look at the strives we've made in recent decades and go "that's enough for me, I'm content with that" or "I'm tired, no one is listening" or just plain old "why bother?".
And here's the thing: not everyone is an activist. I'm sure not, I find other ways to support women and don't often enjoy large gatherings just because my city isn't the safest. To be a feminist you have a multitude of options and ways to engage with feminism than standing in a group waving a sign, though that's a very important area of social change too and it's important to recognize when it's time to stand together openly and go "listen to us".
You say women are always scrutinized and that everything we say is taken as a political statement, which online at least is often true. We can't necessarily escape people viewing everything we do and say online as neutral, some people just have distorted ideas about others. I would try to remind yourself that the internet is full of dumbasses and you know better than strangers what's in your heart. But at the same time, if you're engaging in political speak and movements, there will be times your own behavior and statements will be reflected back on you for good or bad. It's just up to you how you feel about yourself. I personally think no one is a perfect feminist, there's always gonna be something that another could call you out for. So same can be said for those who try to scrutinize your every statement or move. At the end of the day, what matters is how much you understand and care about feminism and the women in the world and do you actually try?
Trying will look different for everyone. In our peace studies class, we're talking about how peace is not an easy and straight forward process and that while the goal is peace, you shouldn't get so bogged down by the end goal that you ignore or ruin the path to get there. In most cases, reaching a pure feminist world is not likely in our life time, which is why it's necessary for us to engage in female consciousness raising, creating for and leaving behind theory and books and evidence and music and art for our friends and daughters and sisters and grandchildren and women we'll never know. In our daily lives, do we try? Do we live in a way that reduces the harm that patriarchy and a male dominated culture has had on us? Do you not wear makeup, wear comfortable clothing, speak kindly to yourself when you look at your own reflection in the mirror, do you workout and take care of yourself, do you speak to your female family and friends, do you watch and engage with female created media and art, do you love and have hobbies, do you donate to women's charities and shelters, do you work with women in your jobs and how do you treat and support them, do you make sure the world is safe for the girls and women in your communities by voting in local elections, do you go to protests and board meetings and engage politically with feminism, do you share feminist theory with others, do you read the news and stay informed about world affairs especially vital towards transnational feminism, do you try?
You're right none of us chose to be born women into a world that wants to kick us down at every chance. With that mentality, though, you're only gonna depress yourself. There's more to feminism than sadness and despair, you're just looking at it from the wrong angle. The pressure to be a feminist isn't on any one individual, but you gain the benefits of trying to live a life in a way that recognizes the harm a male dominated culture has on us as per many of the examples above. I'm not sure who you feel is pressuring you, whether that be people online or just yourself, there's not necessarily a wrong way to be a feminist if you just fucking try. Trying is literally more than enough, but not trying at all makes someone a complacent coward. To look at the world and to see for what it is and not even feel the urge to go, "fuck it, I'm at least gonna live my best life in spite of that" is one of the most un-feminist things ever, yeah. I wouldn't call you a gender traitor unless you're up there touting conservative traditional ideology bullshit, but I'd say you need to connect to yourself and the women around you more. You're in a headspace where feminism rests solely on you and that unless you're out in the streets with a mic you're not doing enough, which is far from what many people are doing anyways. Do we need more active groups? Yeah, for sure. But right now the climate is difficult. Right now it seems the work is laying more foundation towards class consciousness and feminist theory and undoing the harm so much liberal feminist theory has wrought. Go support local charities and shelters, go hang out with your friends, go shop at a women run store, go just interact with the women in your life and try to center them and yourself. None of us want to be fighting for our damn rights, but that's not the end goal of feminism either.
To steal from peace studies theory, negative peace is just the absence of war. Positive peace is the absence of war and any and all oppressive institutions, violence, and is considered a "just" society. In my eyes, feminism is sort of like that. A negative feminism is just the absence of the patriarchy, or in terms of liberal feminism, a society in which men and women are equals. Positive feminism would be a society in which there's no patriarchy and where men and women are not just equals, but that women can live their lives to the fullest, where women are not bogged down by gender roles and norms and sexist institutions, where women are encouraged to love and befriend each other and not focus on men, where women aren't just legally equals, but are fundamentally happy and afforded opportunities to live rich and fulfilling lives apart from men. That's the end goal of feminism, really. Many of the examples I raised are to lead women down the path towards that positive feminism as well as negative, since both are vital for women in the long run.
Anyways, I love you anon and you're not a gender traitor for being tired. It points to you needing to go look for some peace and happiness. We all grow weary if we spend all our time huddled in the dark trying to picture the light instead of just stepping outside and seeing the sun.
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Not sure I agree with that last anon. First off, feminists are actaully the most likely group to listen to men's problems than any other group. Tbf not every feminist does that, like man haters and Terfs are a different stories, but feminist who know what they're talking about have a broader view than "man vs woman" and understand that everyon esuffers under patriarchial standards, just in different ways. Non-feminists and especially your typical "dude bro alpha males" will absolutely make fun of any man having any feelings that aren't anger. I'm a man and I speak from peronal experience here.
And honestly I'm so tired of people complaining about how feminism ruined the show bc Mari has more screentime than Adrien. Astruc wouldn't know feminism if it hit him in the face. He just fails to understand that feminism is not "woman strong man weak". Adrien is the focus of most plot lines because he's Marinette's main motivator to do anything. Astruc based her entire personality about liking a boy. Doesn't sound very feminist to me.
The Adrien abuse not being followed more is also not the result of feminism, it's just a quirky little accessory for Adriens character so the fandom doesn't entirely forget he's here. Hell, Adrien being an abuse victim is like the number one reason why he is so popular in the first pace. Gabe's an ass, Adrien is sad, the audience feels sorry for him. There's no substance, no complexity, no overcoming any complicated emotions. And that's not because feminism, it's because the writers have no idea what being abused actually means, especially how the actions of the abusers get constantly excused. Not only Gabriel, but also Audrey and Jagged who abandoned their kids get away scot free. The writers don't care about abuse victims or giving them a character they can relate to, they just use it as a character trait because they don't know how else to make a character likeable and symathetic. It has nothing to do with any narrative about how "white men are predators" or whatever.
I'm guessing you saw my posts as merely a chance to rant about fandom tendencies that get you peeved, but next time, please just say so, instead of trying to make it sound like I said something I didn't. Like, I get it, the Anon messaging me made it sound like they thought the Miraculous crew were radfems, which I also highly doubt. But also note that this message you sent really reads like you're saying I said or implied something like: "feminism ruined Miraculous" or "feminists treat male victims of abuse worse than other people", which I absolutely did not. I'm a queer feminist, but I'm not exactly running a social justice information blog here. Not everything I say is going to sound perfectly eloquent, but my response in that post was literally less than 200 words; you can spend more time reading it if you're going to send me an essay saying things I was trying to say but with more words and defensiveness and countering arguments I didn't make.
I should probably say this: you're not wrong but that doesn't mean I'm wrong either. Yes, feminists are more likely to listen to and advocate for male victims than other parties. HOWEVER, it is still an undisputable fact that many feminists (note: I never said all) hold the belief that men can never be victims, and that attitude is not only present in radical feminists. I don't like it either, but some feminists are jerks and we can't deny that fact. Still, the main point I was trying to make was that this attitude is not tied to feminism or anti-feminism to begin with; it's a more universal societal bias.
I agree with your point that Miraculous doesn't necessarily have anything to do with denying male victimhood, as I said: the writers don't need to villify Adrien in order to not focus on his story. I was merely stating that the subconcious bias around abuse makes it very easy for the writers to just go: "there isn't really a story here." It's true that the Miraculous writers really don't seem to grasp just how much parental abuse happens in their story, which means that the underlying bias we can see in the show might actually be about parental abuse, rather than male victims specifically. While Kagami is getting support over her situation, Chloé isn't, so it might not be tied to the victim's gender. Still, there is clearly a bias in the show's writing where the abuse present in the story isn't being taken seriously as abuse.
I even agree that Miraculous being a girl power show is not some great failure of feminism, even when some issues with the show come specifically from it being a girl power show. "Girl power" is just the most basic way of making a show that's designed to get girls to like it, and it often doesn't lend itself to nuanced storytelling. Girls being the target audience doesn't make this show feminist; it's just what the creators think appeals to girls.
It's just kind of pathetic that all these problems are becoming more prominent specifically in the seasons the showrunners are trying to tell us are going to be more mature and emotional. Not that raising the rating by one bar is that big of a difference, really.
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It recently has come to my attention that there will be a new Harry Potter Series.
More under the cut, about my frustrations with it. I'm a little angry and emotional.
I'm tired. I am so fucking tired of JKR, of the never ending story that is the wizarding world.
I'm tired of the commercialism, the way she's milking her own franchise. Her fans. ( She's going to be paid per episode.)
The way she threatened them over publishing fanfics in the past.
I'm tired of the queer erasure in her books. I'm tired of the framing of marginalized groups as oppressors on her fucking twitter.
I'm tired of her pretentious feminism, because that's not what she stands for. If you don't treat trans women as women, you're not a feminist. Period. Yes, women are oppressed, but not by trans women, for god's sake, how can anyone even think that. Trans women are doubly opprossed. For being women and for being trans. It's called intersectionality, look it up.
In a podcast "the witch trials of JK Rowling" she made tumblr the enemy???? Tumblr???? You mean THE most chaotic Website for socially awkward people who talk about their blorbos and who are like 80% of your target audience? Those people? That's the evil people? Because the only power they have is canceling the people in power who oppress them? Yeah, for goodness sake, then don't be a bitch. (Disclaimer, i watched a video that more or less gave the gist of the Podcast. With direct quotes.)
I'm so tired. Harry Potter taught me to read. It's what got me into writing. It's, ironically, how I first learned what racism was, because until I was 12 I hadn't been confronted with the subject. (I admit, I did a racist thing back then in writing. I was 12, came from a pretty white village and I simply didn't know better. The encounter that called me out at the time, became part of the reason why I also invested into learning about the LGBT+ community to make sure I didn't do the same thing again. It was and still is a process that also lead to self discovery.)
It makes me so mad to see that legacy be tainted at the roots.
I'm not going to tell anyone whether or not to watch the new show. I don't have the moral high ground to make such a demand. Liking Harry Potter doesn't mean you share JKRs views. But like... At least pirate it, so she doesn't get the money. She doesn't deserve it.
She doesn't know when a story ends. Harry Potter was over after the 7th book. Everything else is a shitty spin off that lives off of HP' popularity. I'm honestly at a point where I don't want to see her name ever again.
Just. Stop.
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Oh wait, same sender again...
I just remembered another psych-out that I've become over-familiar with:
"When we finally over-throw the patriarchy, then women can be happy and live freely!"
Nevermind that free is often a state of mind. A person can be free in body, but shackled in spirit and mind. A person can also be shackled in the flesh, but free-spirited.
I feel like this particular psych-out actually contributes to the transtrender psych-out. People get so tired of 'waiting for the patriarchy to crumble'.... that they just try to deal with this truly-fucking-imaginary obstacle in a different way.
Don't get me wrong... sometimes women get shit for stupid fucking reasons, but at least in America... women are free in the law. (Other than the dumb fuckin recent overturn, but I don't recognize that.) I just really feel like the way that a lot of feminist bloggers on tumblr express themselves... is with a lot of despair and cynicism. The problem is not with the act of sharing the statistics of violence and discrimination.
The thing I have a problem with is how they 'frame' it. I remember that it used to be common tell little girls that they were strong, and capable of handling anything that life throws at them if they believe in themselves and work hard. At least, that it's better than doing nothing and falling into atrophy.
I think actually, you wrote about this sort of stuff, and I really, really enjoyed that.
If I looked at those statistics alone, I would see a challenge.
But looking at it with added tumblr-feminist commentary is like..... I think they are trying to prove 'how bad they have it' to men (or conservatives). They're not thinking about the effect their words might have on other women (or women of different dispositions). I just don't like all this 'despairing in attempt to be taken seriously'.
When I think about that behaviour, it makes me want to tell someone who is doing that: "Hey, if someone isn't going to take you seriously the first few times, they aren't worth groveling for. Stop asking them to care about you, and just live your own life! It's yours! No one else can make you live it a certain way! You have to choose to comply!"
I don't know, I feel disconnected from this strain of 'underground women's culture'. It's something from the past, from when women were considered unequal to men. I can put forth my own opinions like a big boy.
I don't know, I feel like, in the women's world... I'm living in 3000 AD, and these types of women are still living in 1805 AD. It's probably a cultural thing, because most of these women were probably raised in religious families (which tend to have stronger gendered expectations). I just feel like they'd resent me for not having to go through the pain that they did... which is tragic, because feminism is supposed to be uplifting women. Instead, these types of people use it to tear other people down. Then at least.. we're all living in shitty ruins. Ha ha!
I find it kind of depressing how many times I've seen this type of feminist get this critique, and they turn around and accuse the critic of either being A MAN (thus unable to COMPREHEND the intricate inner-workings of a woman's mind. [HOW.... OLD-FASHIONED!]), or of just not reading enough of their literature, or not being exposed to the right stuff.... or not 'having the spirit of women's liberation'.
"Hey! Maybe I don't need to tear myself down like you, to build myself back up. Maybe I can just keep building, and building, and building...
Maybe more girls should keep building, instead of focusing on other people's opinions of them. Maybe what other people say shouldn't be important to your sense of self!"
I don't know, damn... shit's depressing. One day, you care about feminism... next day, someone's telling you, "YOU'LL NEVER BE HAPPY BECAUSE YOU WERE BORN A GIRL, AND WE LIVE IN A MAN'S MAN'S MAN'S WORLD! WE'RE ALL GONNA DIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
I guess it's also funny that if you pay attention to feminist blog circles, you can see the trends of them despairing... but then you can also see other feminists denying that any feminist would ever wallow in despair. It's like, "you don't speak for every other feminist out there. Feminists are individual human beings, and thus subject to human faults. Feminism does not make someone freaking immortal or faultless. It's not a fairy-tale. It's real life." Idk, idk.
I feel like they deal in symbolism... rather than reality.
This is another one (from the same asker as previous) that I feel I have to post because it makes good points -- many of which I've tried to make over the years -- in a fresh way. (Actually, ironically, even after so many very lengthy asks regarding gender stuff, I'm unclear on your gender, and it's okay if you don't feel comfortable sharing, but if I had to make a guess it would be that I'm hearing from a woman's perspective here?) I wouldn't put everything the way you do: I'm not at all sure of the connection you suggest between frustration that the patriarchy isn't crumbling and eagerness to affirm a different gender identity, although it's an interesting suggestion. And I do think there are plenty of problems that even Western women face that should be treated as important (even though a lot of feminists appear to come from a West-centric mindset that lacks the perspective that some far more severe forms of oppression are happening in other parts of the world), and there are forms of sexism still embedded in our culture that hurt men as well as women, so I'm perfectly on board with We Still Need Feminism. But yes, under the law (arguably apart from restrictions on reproductive rights, of course, as you say), the right for equality has pretty much been won for a while, it seems.
Which I think has a lot to do with the evolution of feminism and other forms of (lowercase-s-and-j) social justice movements over the decades from a high-agency-ist mindset ("since group X is unequal under the law and the rationale is that they need to be treated like children, we need to show that they have agency") to a low-agency-ist mindset ("since what we now have to focus on for group X is ways that they're still oppressed which are invisible to some outsiders, we need to show ways in which their capacity to do certain things is limited"). It stretches to a ton of areas other than feminism, of course. It's been a recurring theme in my writing since 2016-2017. But the only time I recall making a full-blown effortpost focusing only on how this can be applied to feminism is in late 2018 with "'Can' vs. 'can't' feminism" which may be my previous discussion of the topic that you said you enjoyed (and here's a briefer follow-up on the same theme). I'm kind of proud of the just-linked effortpost because I think it was well liked, although that may just mostly be because "women-can feminism" vs. "women-can't feminism" seem to go down well as conceptual handles as opposed to the very closely related "high-agency-ism" vs. "low-agency-ism" which I always perceive to instigate subtle eye-rolls.
I feel like they deal in symbolism… rather than reality.
Well, yes. That sums up a lot of my beef with a whole ton of activist rhetoric in general.
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Do you actually believe that men are naturally violent? Because that’s gets into biological arguments that allow people (male and female) to argue that women are naturally weak and in need of protection or incapable of shit (speaking as woman who has seen the feminist -> rad fem -> terf pipeline). All that is done by pushing biological determinism (by nature or nurture) is harming every community under the sun but specifically kink, queer, and minority communities. Trans women become sleeper agent threats. Poc men become vectors of violence. Every kinky man is just a rapist in waiting. It’s scary to be a woman. We don’t need to push narratives that further that tho. I’m not trying to victim blame you for being scared of the shitty reality of being a women. Just like, maybe don’t push terf ideology in the guise of gotcha-ing assholes who don’t deserve that platform in the first place?
every single time i say anything here about men being shitty humans or anything of the sort, i get accused of terf ideology and i beg that you guys please stop getting educated on twitter and reddit and actually learn what a terf is and what they believe because dear fucking god i'm tired of this shit.
i said we socialize boys into being violent, i never said that men are naturally violent. there's a big difference. i don't believe that anyone is naturally anything except naturally a human.
our behaviors, personality, morals, beliefs attitudes, ideologies are all shaped by the institutions we participate in like school and family and religion. we learn and become who we are and express who we are based on how we've been socialized. and you get older and you can change these beliefs, you can double down on these beliefs, you learn more, you grow and you can either become a different person or stay how you are.
i never made any arguments about biology because i don't know enough on science and biological theories to speak on it and unlike some people, i know when to shut the fuck up when i don't know something. i wasn't speaking on biological determinism cause i learnt what that was two minutes ago when i googled it.
as a social science student however, i can speak for sociology and criminology and psychology the ways that theorize why men are violent because of the patriarchy and toxic masculinity and a multitude of other reasons.
also its scary to be a woman but we don't need to push narratives that further that? so what you're saying is shut up? because there was no narrative. i got told by an anon that they wish i was s*xually assa*lted when they know i'm a victim of SA. i related that back to the way that women get told this irl every single day and that things like this is why women are scared of men. but that's a narrative and that's terf ideology. no that's the reality of being harassed since i was 12 in my fucking middle school uniform and getting assaulted by multiple partners as a teen and that's the reality of every 2 out of 3 woman who will experience sexual assault in their lifetime.
not everything is a fucking narrative, not everything is radical fucking feminism, this is the harsh fucking reality of living as a woman. it's the harsh fucking reality of what i've lived and what i've experienced and if you think that me advocating for men to be socialized better and raised to express more emotions than anger so less women are r*ped and assaulted and killed is terf ideology, then you are one of the biggest problems within our society and i advise you work on that before you come for me.
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JJK Compatibility Reading
This compatibility reading is for this event: TAROT COMPATIBILITY READING EVENT
All readings are for entertainment purposes only. Please do not obsess over the results of the reading as at the end of the day free will is a thing
Selamat Malam
Sorry for uploading the reading so late, first I was very busy with school then eid happened and now I'm knee-deep in Genshin Impact. Also, I wanna know your thoughts on tipping; I want to start opening up tips but I'm not sure if I should use Paypal or Kofi.
Terima Kasih,
Before delving into what relationship FNA and Megumi will have, I thought it would be a good idea to see how they view each other
How Megumi see you
Card 1-Ace of Swords
Card 2- Queen of Pentacle
Card 3- The Heirophant
Interpretation :
I think he sees you as someone who is constantly providing and caring for others. Your kindness may have stemmed from traditional values whether it be culture, religion, family tradition or spiritual reason. I think you continue to be doting not just because of those traditional values but because it is natural to you or is it an instinctual thing. I also see you going to great lengths in order to help those you care about and even to strangers. Megumi not only sees you for your tenderness but for your beliefs, sharp mind and determination.
How FNA see Megumi
Card 4- Four of Swords (rev)
Card 5- Knight of pentacles (rev)
Card 6- Temperance
Interpretation:
I could be wrong with how you see him, but you most likely see him as exhausted and burnt out. But even though he works himself too hard, there still is some balance, even in his sleep-deprived state his still a responsible young man. I think you may be attracted to him because of this. I don't know how to say this, but he's basically a tired puppy and you're just aching to care for him. I feel like you may be the type who is eager to take care of others. Let me emphasize that you most probably like the idea of caring for him, it's not like the 'I can fix him' BS.
Your Relationship
row 1- page of pentacles, death, the world (rev)
While the relationship's foundation is solid and there is some chemistry, it somehow finds itself in a stagnant phase. I think the cause for this is because it's a major change for the two of you. Maybe the two of you may have previously been friends and trying to transition to lovers may be a bit weird. Or while befriending someone like Megumi is normal for you, dating someone like him is a first. So the relationship will be a bit rocky, especially in the beginning, but eventually, that rockiness will pass.
Row 2- eight of swords, temperance, magician
Hmm... there is a lot of energy and effort being put into this relationship. I think this relationship has the potential to reach a much deeper level where you can expect a much stronger commitment. But I do think you'd have to be very careful before you reach that deeper level, cause the amount of effort that you're putting in could be mistaken for clinginess or smothering. Megumi may feel a bit overwhelmed. But don't worry, I think the two of you would be able to come together and set up some boundaries. There's a lot of communication between the two of you, so neither of you would be afraid to tell the other that what they are doing is too much or crossing the line.
Row 3- The Empress rev, The Strength, The judgment rev
I'm gonna be quite frank, I don't 100% understand what this row means. I think there is a mother figure in your life or Megumi's life that probably won't like the relationship and would most probably influence others into thinking that this relationship isn't good for either of you. Or you lack a certain amount of feminity and for some reason, people wouldn't be happy about that. Either way, I think the two of you would be able to go on strong. And quite honestly while the public's word/opinion still may hurt, I think at that point the two of you would have already overcome any doubts in the relationship. Thus the two of you are quite confident the relationship will work out and quite honestly it would be hard to tear you two apart.
Row 4- Three of pentacles, king of wands, knight of cups
Please be prepared to be constantly swept off your feet, cause my good is this relationship romantic. A lot of the romantic gestures I see are more on the bold type, like things I thought I would only see in movies tye of shit. Examples are rain-soaked proposals, impromptu picnic dates, kabedon!!! Now I do think these romantic gestures definitely took time some time to learn and with the help of someone else (if you look a 3 of Pent there's a third person involved, lol Gojo most probably forced Megumi to watch a bunch of romance movies). So don't expect these types of gestures on the first date. Also, I think these romantic gestures aren't just Megumi or you doing it. I think the two of you are very equally romantic and find different ways to show just how much you love your partner.
Conclusion:
THIS COUPLE IS VERY CUTE!!!
#megumi x y/n#megumi x reader#megumi fushiguro x reader#jjk megumi#jujutsu kaisen#jjk compatibility reading#gojou saturo x reader#yuji x reader#itadori yuji x reader#nanami kento x reader#kugisaki nobara x reader#nobara x reader#maki zenin x reader#inumaki toge x reader#tarot reading#anime#geto suguru x reader#manga
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Are we welcome to follow if we love Rhaenyra AND Alicent? I think Rhaenyra is undeniably the rightful heir and it was a huge mistake that Alicent went to her father after hearing the King’s dying words instead of sending a raven to Rhaenyra to talk to her about it and what she’s doing is wrong, but I also have a huge amount of sympathy for her and could write essays on why I think she’s going along with putting Aegon on the throne despite knowing that he’s unfit to be king. In my eyes, it has less to do with Rhaenyra and more to do with wanting to feel like she had power. She realizes that her council has planned to crown Aegon all along. If she resists, she will certainly fail and have to confront the fact that she lacks true power here. If she goes along with it and tries to do it her way, she can maintain the more comfortable illusion that she does has power, avoiding the uncomfortable truth. It’s complex and I enjoy her for it. That said, I know she was waaaaay different in the book. I haven’t read it.
Also have to love Helaena and Rhaenys!
+add on to last ask: this is not to say Alicent is somehow “feminist.” She isn’t. I just think her actions are rooted less in wanting a man on throne and more in wanting the years she spent suffering to mean something, to actually amount to some control. The actions are sexist, but I think her motives are more complex deep down
Hi nonnie! First of all, of course you're welcome to follow and talk with me if you want to. There are plenty of people in the ASOIAF fandom I have zero interest in talking to (Daenerys haters are literally not welcomed here, for example). But you don't have to love Rhaenyra or hate Alicent. You can love both, hate both, love one more than another, I don't care as long as you're not incapable of understanding that Rhaenyra was the Heir and the Greens commited treason.
More on Rhaenyra being one of my favorites ASOIAF characters: she wasn't a good Queen and I don't like the comparison between her and Daenerys. Of course, we can make obvious parallels between those two characters, but Dany is a hero and would be a good Queen (I strongly believe in this) while Rhaenyra was a tyrant. But she's a very interesting character and I love her in a totally different way than I love Dany (I know this is off topic, I'm totally taking advantage of your message to answer to those saying we can't be both Dany stans and love Rhaenyra)
Of course, at this point on the show, I'm rooting for Rhaenyra. But I don't think you'll love her as much in the future or if you read Fire & Blood. Rhaenyra was whitewashed in the show, Alicent too (they did the opposite for male characters, like Daemon). But enough about that since you haven't read about the book characters.
About feminism: neither Alicent or Rhaenyra is a feminist. Rhaenyra isn't at all about women's rights either, except for herself. The difference between the Blacks and the Greens is that one side of this Dance commited treason, and that this treason has a direct link with the patriarchy.
Of course, you're allowed to feel for Alicent. I don't like Alicent but that doesn't mean I'm not disgusted at some things people have been saying (I'm convinced at this point that half of the ASOIAF fandom is brainless...) Also, if I tag some posts “anti x stans”, it’s because I don’t want to use the character tag. It’s not respectful for the fans who are going through their favorite character tag (I’m so tired of Dany hate showing up in the “daenerys targaryen” tag just because antis can’t be bothered to use proper tags). It’s not because I actually hate their fans.
I'm not a fan of Sansa or Alicent, and I have an amazing friend that I've known for a few years now whose favorite ASOIAF/GOT character is Sansa and whose favorite HOTD character is Alicent (she hasn't read Fire & Blood either, by the way). I would gladly read your metas about Alicent, even if we don't agree, but I feel like you could talk a lot about her with my Kitty Kat @alicentes, if you’re looking for someone who loves Alicent but isn’t at all anti Rhaenyra! 💕
This is also to say that, while I know there are people who only show respect to someone if they agree with them on every single thing, that’s just as unhealthy as all the disgusting hate we see in this fandom. So yes, you are welcome here. Of course you are. Shoot me a message off anon so I can know it's you? You can tell me if you don't want it published, although you honestly don't have to be scared of people going after you when you said nothing offensive!
Your favorites so far are Alicent, Rhaenyra, Helaena and Rhaenys? Mine are Rhaenyra (big surprise, I know), Daemon, Rhaenys, Mysaria.
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Title: in the mouth of trauma (is silence not an act of violence too?)
Fandom: Hetalia
Warnings: creator chooses not to use archive warnings
Relationships: Est & Liet & Lat
Characters: HWS Est, HWS Liet, HWS Lat, HWS Rus, others mentioned
Tags: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Implied/Referenced Non-Consensual Drug Use, Aftermath of Torture, Psychological Torture, Psychiatric Torture Aftermath, Victim Blaming, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Torture, Dissociation, Disordered thoughts, Unreliable Narrator, Mental Instability, Historical Hetalia, Soviet Union Era, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Mentioned Murder, Suicidal Thoughts, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied Past Attempted Suicide
Summary: it's time to leave behind everything they have done to him, but how does one begin to heal when the wounds no longer cover his body, just his mind?
AO3: the link to read it on ao3
A/N: So I'm going to be honest, I never thought that the first fic (Isolation) would have a sequel but when I sat down, my brain really said that that story was not done yet. I don't know yet how far I'm going with this, so far there are two more fics set during this time period that are much less *gestures at everything involved in this fic* then this, but those will definitely not be done this month, maybe next month. Though I'm actually hoping to have some happier things to share soon.
I do warn to please look back at the tags as every single one of those are mentioned throughout the fic - unlike with Isolation, I can't give paragraph specific warnings as basically every paragraph has a triggering content in it. Like this fic is more than a tad bit darker than the previous fic, sorry. That being said, I have listed every single tag I believe needs to be there, if there is one missing please nicely let me know. If you need to take a break while reading this, may I lead you to video of mine.craft yt Go.odTimes.WithSc.ar being hilarious?
All mistakes are my own, my beta is asleep so they haven't read this over for me. Information is at the bottom as it always is for my historical works.
Lastly, title is from Blythe Baird – “Pocket-Sized Feminism”, no real reason besides I really like it. Prompt is from Fict.ober 2021, "You have no proof". dedicated to my beta, who's asleep right now, who talked with me about this fic, and to my mother who read the ending to tell me it didn't suck.
Last warning, this fic is dark and to please read the tags.
____
The sun is setting when he’s dragged out of the room – fear in his stomach as they grip his arms roughly, leading him down the hall to the shower rooms.
He hates the shower rooms.
He never used to mind the shower rooms or what they represented – group showers – but ever since he was dragged to one after that tortuously long car ride, thrown to the grimy floor in a building he assumed was abandoned, and all but tortured by the soldiers who seemingly took great pleasure in what they were doing, he has had trouble with them. It’s like they no longer represent the idea of being equal with the other people in there*, instead they are the place where bad things happen.
He hopes that’s not what’s going to happen now.
Not again.
He knows he wouldn’t survive it; his body is weak and tired. The doctors have been raising the dosage of the medication* they were giving him; they wanted him far too docile. And while his nation physiology did wonders to get rid of most medications quickly, even at doses that would incapacitate or kill a human, he was being given doses every few hours. He knows it’s been absolutely annoying the head doctor – the man had threatened to force a bottle of poison down his throat, as if somehow he controlled how his body worked.
Higher and higher dosages and more pills forced down his throat by a maniac and those who appeased him.
He forces himself back to the present, to the soldiers, and tries to even his breath out as rough words are tossed from one and another, their meaning lost on him in his terror. They must be chatting about what they plan to do to him, of what is going on – and if he focuses, he knows that he could understand the words, but there’s a part of him doesn’t want to.
It’s sometimes easier to live in the world where he can feign ignorance; any question they might ask him is in vain if he lets his mind wander away from him to times where things were much easier. To times where the terror is no longer lurking.
He takes a deep breath as the door swings open, the sound of another patient – victim – screams from somewhere in the building as he is thrown into the room, the memory from the first time this happened echoing in his movements.
Get in there!
He is, for once, thankful that they had taken his glasses when he was moved into this particular place; they had made a horrible sound as they had hit the grimy floor once before and he has no desire to hear that same clink, especially since he can hear in his head the sound of throaty laughter and footsteps moving closer to him -
Didn’t hear me, did you traitor? I said get up!
Rough hands grab him once more, “Up, up,” they say, the Russian words falling quicker, “We have no time for this, get up.”
They aren’t shouting. Their words are harsh and demanding, but they’re not shouting and so he manages to bring himself back to the present, to help himself to his feet. More hands touch him and he lets himself be directed to the first open shower, staring at it in fear. He knows how this goes.
“We are right out the door – don’t try anything, we will know,” one of the men says, dark eyes piercing as he points to the entrance. “Shower quickly, shower thoroughly.”
Let’s get this evidence off you, not that anyone would believe a fucking traitorous bastard such as yourself.
(he didn’t believe himself either)
He feels himself nod and watch as they leave the room, doors swinging behind them. Part of it feels that his mind goes with them, sliding out the flesh he’s been placed in and following them across gleaning white tiles, past a set of weak doors, to stand and wait until he’s done with the directive given to him.
It still leaves the body behind though, and he knows that if he doesn’t do as he’s told, he’ll be forced to by one of them: the last thing he wants is more hands touching him.
Even if the hands that hurt the most has long since been gone, he can still feel haunted by them; still feel the burn of bruises forming against skin that has grown weak since his first capture – the time when he was young, not the one done by the brutes manning the Soviet army.
His shaking hands drop to his clothing, sea green eyes darting towards the door for a brief second before he starts with the buttons on the shirt. He doesn’t look at his body after the shirt is gone, instead his eyes go distant as he stares at the tiled walls, hands dropping to his pants.
He had been a fighter once*, he thinks as fearful hands shed the last protection he has on him.
Most saw him as a homebody and he is – he’d never argue that he was most at home among his people; farming, learning, living, breathing in the fresh air, but when war had brought itself to his doorstep, he never backed down. He met challenges with a straight back and a fierce strength that had won him many battles and many scars. He had been set against bigger nations, more powerful then he’d been and been told to give up, submit, things would be easier if he did, and he had told them that he was never going to bend, never going to break, and he had never done so.
And yet – right as the water turns on, the sound of the pipes creaking from all around him; the water, lukewarm at best, spraying against his bruised flesh, he feels like breaking now.
He knows he can’t, whatever is going on will need him to carry that same strength that he had carried as a child, but the fragility of his mind after these long months – years, possibly – keeps him flitting between the nation he once was and the man who learned to keep his head down to avoid anymore trouble than his existence already brought him.
He grabs for the soap in front of him, the filthy looking bar slimy between his fingers, slimy against his bare skin. Not that he needs it to feel slimy, but it does it’s job as best as it could. Dirty water sits for a second at the drain before being sucked away, disappearing forever.
Come here, I swear it’s like you live to disappoint – get in the bath already, can’t have the doctors asking questions if you show up looking like a cheap whore.
(the doctors don’t care, don’t care, don’t care, don’t care)
His nails bite into the soap as he grips it hard, two deep breaths in, two deep breaths out.
I don’t want to share my traitorous bitch.
(lieslieslieslieslieslieslieslieslies)
The shower shuts off, there’s a towel sitting on the broken sink and he reaches for it, forcing himself to focus on the story of the broken sink and not that monster’s words. He doesn’t remember who told it – either Dmitri, who was there for expressing disappointment in the current regime, or Linas, who was there because his father had spoken out against the Soviets but who lied to protect the old man – but it was one of them who told him in whispers late at night through the gaps in the solitary wing’s broken walls the story of the broken sink.
It wasn’t particularly interesting, he thinks as he swipes away the moisture on his skin. Mostly he had listened because he had been down there for over two weeks and his voice had all but disappeared from singing and screaming for far too long. It was, though, a sign of what kind of behavior was tolerated there.
A nurse enters a clandestine relationship with a patient. She uses the shower room as it’s the easiest place to clean up and she knows the schedule of her fellow nurses so can tell when will be safe to take her patient lover there to interact. A doctor, one who had been trying to court her, found out one day and decides to do something about it. He decides he will kill the patient and to do so, lures the poor addled man to the space on a night she’s not supposed to be working. While waiting for the other, he rips the pipe from the sink and hides near the door, ready to kill the other when he walks in.
And walks in the other man does but with the nurse. The doctor was shocked and drops the pipe, but in his rage at seeing them together, he kills the patient anyway, bashing his head against the sink, over and over and over again, until the porcelain breaks and bleeds.
While this is happening, the nurse has run off to get help, fear overriding all sense she has as she worries for the man she loves. She returns with help but it’s too late for the patient and the doctor, who is covered in blood, coldly turns to the guard she had brought and tells the man, “The nurse here has been colluding with this patient to kill me – I overheard their plan and decided to act before either could get me.”
He is believed. The nurse is sent away, left to die in whatever painful way they want her to in a gulag somewhere. The doctor continues to work there. No one cares; not about the nurse wrongfully convicted, not about a patient sent there for mental problems being murdered by a man meant to help him, and definitely not for a doctor with blood on his hands and not a shred of guilt in his soul.
He has internalized that lesson here – no one cares about any of them – and it’s been proven far too often as every day passes.
A soldier walks in right as he’s putting his underwear back on and it takes all he has to hold back the urge to cover his body with the towel, to shy away from this man who looks more a child than an adult. But hold it back he does, instead staring at the man as fabric is thrust towards him. Russian is spoken, his brain still far away in another world.
The soldier looks back towards the door before licking his lips and saying, “Clothing, for you,” in a language* he’s not heard from anyone not him in far too long.
Estonian.
His language.
He reaches for them, the sight of his glasses calling to him and the fabric familiar as his hands clenches around them. “Thank you,” he says carefully in that same language.
He’s not scared of what will happen if a nurse or doctor hears him. He’s spoken it far too often for someone who’s been punished for doing so. It – along with the dozen or so other languages he knows – have been the one thing that has comforted him through everything, and while he’s not thankful for having to learn them how he did, he is thankful he did learn them.
The solider – a boy no older than 20 – gives him a smile, as if he’s done something good, and nods again, motioning to his hands. “Please, hurry,” he says, in Russian this time, before turning and leaving.
Despite the thankfulness that comes from hearing his own language from another's mouth after being removed from the two other nations who spoke enough of it to keep him from going crazy, he’s still uneasy; he’d be stupid not to be. He still has no idea what is going on. This was nothing like how they moved him from the first facility to this one – that had been done through drugging him and him waking up in a moving vehicle, his eyes blinded and his hands tied again.
The soldiers, the same from when he was first taken from Mister Russia’s manor, had laughed at his panic.
“Look at the traitor – scared of what might happen.”
Still, he does what he’s told, dressing in the clothing given to him, his glasses first. They look familiar, like something he owns back at Mister Russia’s home, but he can’t see how they could’ve gotten them. To go there and ask for some, or even to go there and grab any clothing, would be tantamount to admitting that he was taken somewhere where his other clothing was either damaged or gone – it’d be admitting something.
Which, he knows for certain, they did not – would not – want to do.
He had yelled it over and over again at the first facility. They had no right to do what they were doing – there were laws* that they had to listen to when it came to people like him, they would be in trouble. Of course, as time puttered by, he had come to the realization that no, they wouldn’t. For that to happen, he’d have to be willing to bring everything to the other nations.
Something that he did not – would not – want to do.
Looking at himself in the cracked dirty mirror, he presses his hand against the starchy feel of the button up shirt sleeves; to the softness of the sweater vest, the stiffness of the pants. He’s even got a belt – for a flash of a second he wants to wrap it around his throat and one of the pipes that line the ceiling – and it’s surprisingly easy how he falls right back into comfort as he coils it around his waist and buckles it.
He looks normal.
It feels weird.
The boy soldier comes back, smiling as he does so. “Ah, Mister Russia said you would like those – your brown haired brother wanted to give you a different outfit but what Mister Russia wants, Mister Russia gets.” His Russian is not as rough as the others are. In fact, he can, for the briefest moment in all of history, pretend not to hate the language, but for him to pretend that it still doesn’t grate at his skin like a serrated blade being drawn down his skin on it’s side, would be a lie that even he can’t speak.
“Mister Russia?” His – Eduard’s – Russian is perfect as always: he’s always been gifted orally.
You’ve got such a talented mouth – makes sense for a traitorous little bitch.
Linguistically talented.
For the most part, it’s been a blessing as no matter how much he argues that he will refuse to learn a new language, the nations who have held his land have followed the same script when it comes to forcing him: refusing to speak to him in any language not their own, refusing him books that aren’t in their language, refusing him time spent on his own land or among his own people, ignoring him should he speak any language that is not the one they were trying to force upon him. He knows that, for most of them, it was never done maliciously, but he still resents them for it*.
He’s always hated that his language was considered lesser by some; hated that he was expected to learn while they were not.
But that’s bygones – thoughts he uses to distract himself from the terror that he’s been living in. Sometimes late at night he would pretend to argue with nations from his past about it, going over words out loud in the slurred state that he was often left in until he felt like he had properly argued his point.
“Yes, Mister Russia is demanding you home,” the boy solider says, who motions to the door behind him, “We have been sent to do so.”
It takes the air out of his lungs for a moment to hear that. He knows that going home does not mean going back to his country but instead back to Russia’s manor home, and yet he feels the slightest bit of happiness. He hates the idea of going back there – the representation of Russia was not a sane man; history had taken it’s toll on him and he took it out on others* – but it was better than waiting every night to see what torture befell him.
Tell me, are all nations weak like you?
“Why?” It falls out of his mouth before he has the ability to tamp down on it; kill it before it kills him. Especially when he knows the answer – what Mister Russia wants, Mister Russia gets – that will come.
There’s a shrug before, “I don’t know. We were told to get you, bring you to Moscow where you will wait for Mister Russia to pick you up. That’s it,” is said. And like good soldiers who do not question what their orders are, here they are.
“I’m ready then.”
____
If he expects that they’re going to walk him out like he was brought it – dragged by his underarms, blindfolded, clothes a mess, thrown to the ground like a piece of trash they wanted nothing more than to get rid of – then he’s mistaken. Instead, the boy soldier calls for his fellow soldiers, men who look older and as if this job is beneath them. One stands in front of him, one stands in back, and then one on each side.
It’s like he’s being protected but he knows the truth: it’s so that he has no thought of running, no way to try if he even wanted to.
Eduard flinches as the doors to the building swing open, the bright light of the sky burning his eyes a bit. There are two small cars sitting in front of the stairs, the head doctor whispering to another soldier near the passengers’ side of one of them.
He wants nothing to do with whatever conversation is happening, the head doctor is as cruel as the soldiers from before, but as a thick manila folder is passed between the two men, he wishes he could hear what is being said – perhaps it is about him and his mental state.
Perhaps it’s about the drugs given to him that have started to wear off and what they did.
Perhaps it is about the harm that has befallen him while in their care – a soldier who took too much liberties whenever he had the chance, the male nurses who slammed him up against walls and forced his mouth open to push pills past his lips, a female nurse who pinched him whenever he would doze off during the day as she didn’t want him to ruin his sleeping pattern.
Perhaps it is about the other things that even in his thoughts Eduard will not mention.
Whatever it is, the soldier has it packed away in a locked briefcase before Eduard has even approached them, the quartet of solemn faced men marching him slowly.
“Ready?” The man asks and, by the way the others nod their head, it’s obvious that he is the one in charge of it all. “Good, get in the car.”
The door is opened for him, the boy soldier slides in first and Eduard takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as he follows. His body wants to shake, the last time he was in a car like this was -
I bet you like being surrounded like this – all helpless and needy.
“Are you okay?”
He wants to scream – wants to laugh – wants to take the knife from the belt nearby and stab until he feels better – but instead he nods and lies like he’s been taught to do since his country was taken from him and his people, “Yes, thank you.”
He’s polite even when he doesn’t want to be.
“Good, soon you will be home.”
It’s not his home, sits snugly on his lips. He had said that once to the Russian nation and received a backhanded slap for it, along with a long, long lecture about not being respectful enough. Eduard had felt he was being respectful, especially given that that time around, he hadn’t added any poison to the taller nation’s drinks.
Instead he says nothing, holding back the flinch that threatens his body once one of the other soldiers slides in to sit next to him. He can’t reach any of the doors, he can’t escape, he can just stare off in the distance and disappear from this world as he learned to do while locked up in solitary.
The driver in front – the soldier that was talking to the doctor – starts the car in silence, a quick bark of orders done too quick for Eduard to focus on translating to the other soldiers, before they’re off; the psychiatric facility nothing more then a minor stage piece in his personal history.
He should feel something, he thinks as they leave what had housed him behind and he’s able to see where he was being held. He should feel anything but all he can think is about how nice the little wooded areas look as they bypass them; how even if he hadn’t been blindfolded on the drive up, he still wouldn’t have been able to see anything with how late he had arrived.
So, in that case, for what other reason then but to make him feel helpless, did the original soldiers have him blindfolded and tied up, knelt on the floor between their clothed legs like a common whore?
But even with that thought, he can’t force himself to feel anything else but a solemn ache in his bones.
He’s just tired.
He wants home – his real home – and to hear his language as he goes about his everyday. He wants to hide away somewhere no one would ever look and pretend he doesn’t exist anymore. He wants to set himself upon the international stage and scream about what they have just let happen, and at the same time, he wants nothing more than to sew his mouth shut and never speak a word to anyone about the crimes committed against his person; against the other patients in the places he was sent to, against his fellow nations left behind in that manor.
He can’t do that though. To sew his mouth shut would be to prove to the psychiatrist who said he had gone crazy right, and they weren’t correct. He was fine – he would be fine, he would be fine and he was going to be fine. He had to be fine.
The definition of fine is different for them all though and Eduard – Estonia – is unsure what it means for him.
He knows how he’s been expected to act by those who’s owned his land, as every single other nation had different expectations of him, and he’s knew what it meant when he had his own bosses recently, and he just barely remembers what it meant the years before his country got taken, but none of those times has moments that come even close to now.
To the fear and loathing he feels.
To the memories that come and go as they please, as if they had etched themselves sharply against his skin and nary a touch would inflame them, jolting him back to the when.
To the sickness that settles in his gut at the idea of not rebelling while at the same time screaming at the idea of rebelling.
He feels hands on him at all times, hears the senseless roar of static in his ears when he loses focus. If he stops to listen for a second, he can hear the footsteps that echo as they walk down hallways, back and forth, back and forth. He feels desperate for something to distract him while at the same time fearful of being distracted by what may come.
If what they had wanted had been to permanently unsettle him, then they have succeeded, because for the life of him – and what a long life that is – he cannot seem to believe that there will come a day when he is not haunted by this; not hopelessly followed from home to home, room to room, city to city, space to space, by the violence that has damaged him so completely.
Damage that, for many reasons, he will have to carry by himself, because who could he even tell?
(He’s not telling, he promises, he would never!)
Who would even believe him?
(No one, he’s heard it all throughout this ordeal. No one would believe him – no one would listen to him – no one would care.)
The thought of telling Mister Russia barely flits in his brain before he’s batting it away. The other nation would not care, in fact, Eduard – Estonia – is sure he can actually hear what the other nation would say if he spoke of the abuse he has suffered at the hands of the other’s men. “You deserved it. You should not have been trying to betray the family. Now you have learned your lesson, are you going to be good now?”
You’ve brought this on yourself.
(pleasestoppleasestoppleasestop)
He internally shudders at that thought.
No.
Out of the question.
(Not that there even was a question – because he’s not going to tell, he swears, he would never.)
Eduard – Estonia – would never tell Latvia, it would traumatize the younger-looking nation and after spending most of his whole (imprisoned, captured) life with the other, the last thing he wants to do is put more of a heavy burden on the poor boy. Latvia has enough trouble, Eduard cannot add more.
No one cares where you are.
No one cares that you aren’t at Mister Russia’s house – it’s like nothing has even changed. It’s because you are not important. You are nothing but a traitor – no one misses a traitor.
And that goes for Lithuania too.
His relationship with the other is still slightly rocky after their fight from a few years ago, when Lithuania had first found out that Eduard – Estonia – was hoarding illegal books and pamphlets. He had been worried about what might happen to him should he be found out; what Mister Russia would do, what the Soviet government might do. Eduard had just told the other that he’d be fine, the worse that could happen was he got on Mister Russia’s bad side for a bit and had to spend time apologizing a lot; things that he basically did whenever he was caught speaking his own language.
“The government can’t touch us and it’s not like they’re going to be nicer to our people if we don’t join in on these protests,” Eduard had said while Lithuania had shaken his head, worried nonetheless.
He has no doubt that the Lithuanian would be horrified by what has happened to him, if he were to speak about it, but he also knows that Lithuania has his own troubles in the form of his abhorrent admirer that is their captor.
(And in that same vein, perhaps the other would, silently, blame Estonia for what befell him. The other had warned him, had expressed worry after worry after worry, and in his utter arrogance, Eduard – Estonia – had just waved him off. Perhaps if the other learned, he’d say You deserved it, I told you so, it’s your own fault, what did you expect them to do? And Eduard would have to live with those words coming from the mouth of his own friend (brother) for the rest of time.)
Even if he didn’t, what kind of person would he be if he forced his own problems onto someone already so troubled?
Not a good person, he hears in his head, the voice of his main tormentor echoing words he had spoken during late night torture sessions and early morning sessions. You’re not a good person at all. A weak nation, a bad friend, a terrible person. You get what you deserved.
Bile rises. His stomach clenches.
Deep breath in.
One.
Two.
Three.
Shaky breath out.
In.
One.
Two.
Three.
Out.
The soldiers in the car don’t notice – or don’t care – which is nice after the incessant watch he had been placed on while in the facilities. He supposes it makes sense to watch him so severely. They had him marked upon arrival, as someone who could, without a moment’s notice, seek to harm himself, even when that’s the furthest thing from the truth. Before they had placed him in the protective care of the doctors and nurses of the Soviet Psychiatric field, he had never once thought about harming himself.
Now it’s a fight to ignore those thoughts.
There was no one, he returns to his previous thoughts, no one in that house he feels comfortable telling. Whatever lie that has been used to excuse away his absence is the lie he will give when asked, as soon as he finds out what it is.
“Look.” The boy solider grabs his arm to get his attention, one gloved hands pointing out the window.
Estonia-
–Eduard, a name passed to him by a brother that betrayed him and held onto after said brother had disappeared out of sentimentality; a name that had been spoken by destruction in the forms of humans trying to get him to break, hoping that he would crack as their own nation had done; a name that he doesn’t really connect to but refuses to leave behind because has he not left behind enough nations to the tide of time—he mourns for the representations of nations that had once existed but who’s existence was not long enough for them to be properly recorded in time—that he wishes to hold onto something from a nation that had once been kind to him?*-
–looks up briefly and sees a city rising from the dusty horizon.
How long has he been in his own thoughts?
Long enough that the drive has passed him by and the city of Moscow looms into view. Long enough that the fear that had been abated by his senseless thoughts comes back in it’s fullest to sit like lead in his stomach, bile displaced and rising to his throat.
He forces a smile. “Moscow?” He asks even though he knows the answer.
“Yes, we are almost there,” says the driver, his accent rougher then the boy soldier – and how long will he stay a boy soldier, he wonders. Maybe he becomes a soldier, no longer a boy, after he has used force to detain a person, following the lies gifted to him by whoever is in charge. The first time he drags a person through the streets, leaving them bloodied? Will he stop being one after his first, but not last, murder? Perhaps he will commit a rape beforehand, signaling to his fellow soldiers that he is a man who can force himself onto anyone he wishes as long as he wears the colors of his army.
Estonia doesn’t have any fairy tale ideas of what war looks like; he sat in the woods with his men trying to fight off an army of stronger opponents, watching them die and suffer, trying his hardest to help where he could, but that doesn’t mean he condones the acts that he knows are committed. Once, war had been ugly, nasty, dirty and drawn out but eventually over – now it’s the aftermaths that people struggle to move on from.
Still, he banishes the thought and instead decides to focus on getting his thoughts together. He can’t keep disappearing into his own thoughts – if he is going back to Russia’s house then he’ll not have the same amount of time to do so anymore, and if he wasn’t truly going back there, then it would probably look better if he was able to pretend he’s still at his best.
He closes his eyes for a second, takes a deep breath in, and like all his people had said back when he was a child nation and the looming threat of the crusades sat like an ugly shadow on his doorstep, locked everything that was not helpful away until he could unpack it at a later day.
____
When they arrive at a building, they speak quickly and roughly to each other, their words sliding from their lips faster than his slightly addled brain can keep up.
When they arrive at the building, the driver – commander? - says that they will be waiting in front of Mister Russia’s office there. He says that he expects Estonia to be on his best behavior because they have no clue how long it will take for the other nation to show up.
When they arrive at the building that decides his fate, Estonia is done packing away all the mental anguish, the trauma, the horror, the terror, and he notices that they are treating him as if he is a child who might wander off if not properly retained.
It’s demeaning.
“I’ve sat through more boring things than you can think of, I’ll be fine,” he says as nonchalantly as he can manage, as they exit the vehicle. The words are much nicer than any of the biting (tearing, searing) words he wants to say. “If I do get too bored, I’m sure I’ll be able to find some way to entertain myself.”
The commander does not find him charming.
They make sure to walk in the same group formation as before; only this time, they follow like little rats the driver with his slow gait and commanding eyes. The walk to the building is slow, tension in his body rising sightly as he waits for something to change – for them to grow angry like the first set of soldiers that brought him somewhere or for them to rush him into a room and begin beating him – but nothing does and they enter the building.
There’s barely anybody, he notices as they walk through corridors and up a flight of stairs, nobody but them. It’s unnerving to think of being in a building with just these men, but it gets more unnerving as they come to a stop in the middle of a corridor two flights up, where a small retinue of others are standing in the way. It’s a small group, four men versus their six, but the way those men stand is just wrong. It’s as if there is nothing weighing down their shoulders: they stand proud and smug.
The head soldier – the driver, the commander, the rough and angry and too tired to still be here man – sighs to himself, mutters “What the fuck are they doing here,” under his breath, and squares his shoulders as one of the men in the other group comes to stand in front of them.
“We are here to take the representative of the Estonian Soviet Socialist Republic* to speak with our boss,” This man says, as he approaches. His voice is honeyed, hoarse, and full of warning as he comes to a stop in front of the commander, his arms held behind him. He gives a little nod to the other soldiers before his gray eyes zero in on Estonia. “We will be holding onto him until he is picked up by the USSR.”
His hands form fist, the threat under those words are there, he knows it, and he can see the commander frown. Hopefully the commander won’t let him be taken by these people, but Eduard doubts there is much he could do if they do decide to leave him with them. Logically, a dark part of his brain goes, it’d be easier for them – not having to deal with two nutcase nations.
“No.”
Estonia blinks. His brain is quiet for once as he takes in the sight of the soldiers steeling themselves for a fight while the other group looks at each other in confusion. He understands their thoughts, they are the type of men that one does not say no to, no matter who you are, but the commander does not seem to care about their place in the pecking order and stands plainly in place. But it cannot be that simple, Eduard thinks as the room falls into silence. You can’t just say no.
“What?” The man asks, frowning himself. “We have orders -”
The commander gives a bark of laughter, harsh like the wind against the skin in the middle of winter in poorly dressed clothing and all of the thoughts of how this man seemed weary fades as his true form comes out. His shoulders shrug as he grins slightly, “We were given orders by Mister Russia himself, to keep our eyes on this representation until he, himself, arrived to pick up the ESSR.”
He wishes they would stop referring to him as ESSR - it’s not his name, it’ll never be his name, he wants nothing to do with the farce of a name – but still, he holds himself stationary as those around him decide his fate, as he has been taught to do.
“Our boss-”
“I do not care about your boss,” the commander says, eliciting murmurs from the other men. Their boss must be very important that the words the commander says are met with such disbelief “I only care what my nation has asked of me – he has asked me to stay nearby the ESSR, to deliver the ESSR directly to him upon his arrival, and to then accompany them both back to the manor in which they reside.”
The other man frowns. It feels antagonistic, the way he does so – as if he’s weighing his options on just shooting the commander in order to get rid of him.
Estonia, for a second, feels his heart stop. He doesn’t care for anybody in the hallway, but the idea that he might become at mercy to these sharp angry men, with no one to stop them from whatever they want with him: he feels sick.
Again.
A door opens, bringing the rising tension to a standstill as a secretary exits the room right behind the men, her shoes clacking on the tiled floor. She takes one look at the soldiers and the unnamed men and frowns. Blue-gray eyes narrow as they meet his own, either she’s surprised that there are more people than she expected or she thinks he looks bad. Nevertheless, she shakes her head before she speaks, “He’s ready to see you,” right to him, ignoring the others around.
He’s been spoken at for the past however long he’s been held, but barely spoken to – a few times he’d have a human prisoner to interact with, but those times, were far and few in-between – so for a moment, he can just stare at her before the boy soldier pushes on his shoulder, alerting him back. He gives a nod to her and looks to the commander. “Hopefully I’ll only be a few minutes so you don’t get in trouble with Mister Russia,” he says with a slight smile he doesn’t feel.
The commander gives a short nod before directing his men to stand with their backs against the opposite wall, and Estonia follows the secretary into the room.
His stomach drops upon entry. He’s been here before and he knows it – the memories from that first night echoes in his brain as his feet force him to continue forwards, to the chair sat right in front of him. Estonia doesn’t know the name of the human in front of him, doesn’t know what position in Russia’s government he holds, but he knows that this is the man from that night all that time ago. This is the man that condemned him to two different mental facilities and a long period of torture*.
He lowers himself into the chair, eyes immediately drifting to the ground as he remembered the last time – how he had looked this man straight in the face and been violently assaulted for it. He wants to look up, to let him know that the nation of Estonia has not broken, but even the thought of it brings a shiver to his spine. Still, he takes several steadying breathes before he does let his eyes drift upwards, hiding his fear the best he can as he waits for anything.
“It has been a year and six months since you darkened my office door, do you understand what that means?” He asks, his nasally voice echoing through the room. Estonia doesn’t even get a chance to answer before the man continues, “It means that there will be questions about where you’ve been – do you know what you say?”
Of course he doesn’t, but he knows that whatever the answer is will be the furthest from the truth that they can get.
“You have been helping us with secretarial work; updating paperwork, helping with computers, things of that nature,” The man continues on, hands clasped on his desk, smarmy smile planted on his face. For a second, the man pauses before leaning close and speaking, “We have been very good to you while you’ve been with us; no harm has come to you.”
His breath leaves his body as his eyes widen slightly, staring at this man in disbelief. That lie would work if everyone he interacts with for the next hundred years are idiots, of which his neighbors are not. Some of them are self-centered, but none of them are so self-centered as to be able to believe no harm has come to him when he looks as he does. “No one will believe that.” It comes out without meaning to, just as his slip up did (kill it before it kills you) and the official’s face falls, ever so slightly.
“You have no proof,” He snarls, slamming his hands on the desk and standing, his chair hitting something hard behind him. Estonia flinches as he reels back, eyes closing as he waits for a physical attack. It takes the official a second to calm down before he’s forcing his fake smile back on his face and sitting back down. He clears his throat before he continues, “You must realize that you do not have any proof whatsoever of where you have been, whereas we, if questioned, can produce much evidence of you being in the locations we have given.”
Falsified evidence is not evidence.
“Of course, I worry for your mental state if you truly believe whatever it is you are imagining you have been through. Surely you do not need a stay in a psychiatric facility to help you remember the past year?” Eduard’s heart constricts in it’s cage made of his ribs. It’s not even a hidden threat. The man leans in conspiratorially, his smile dropping. “Because, between just us, I have not heard the best things about those facilities. My colleagues have spoken how they are trying to fix the rampant abuse that seems to breed in those locations but I am sure we can find you somewhere safe if you were to stay in one, yes?”
It’s a verbal slap in the face; an openly cruel one.
It takes him a second to gather his thoughts. Or well, the one thought that he keeps repeating in his head. “I won’t say anything,” he says after a moment. The man seems to wait for a second and Estonia knows what he wants, but all he can manage to say is, “Not that there is anything to say.”
This seems to ease the room a bit but still the official sits still.
“Because, I’ve been-” He can’t lie like this. He can’t say the lie given to him. It sits on his tongue, heavy as the feel of sopping wet clothes, weighing you down in the water. “I’ve been well.” He manages after a second.
The man smiles, nodding slightly as he grabs some papers off his desk. “Good, remember that if someone asks.” The pages are shuffled in his hands before one makes it way to the empty desk space in front of Estonia. “Now, can you tell me about this?”
Estonia stares at it for a second, his emotions haywire. It’s nothing more than a typed page of words, but it’s the words – inflammatory, anti-soviet words – that scream at him. They’re the reason he was sent away, they’re the reason he suffered.
“No, I’m afraid I can’t.” It’s his voice, he knows it is, but it doesn’t feel like it. “I’m sorry.”
This is a lie, much bigger than the one this man wants him to tell to others, but it’s a lie he’ll die with. The man who wrote that has two kids and a wife and takes care of his mother as his father was killed during the war and Estonia will never speak his name.
The man hums and places down another page of words – this time written by a man who left his teaching position in a university when the communists came to power and who survives life on bad humor and copious amounts of liquors – and asks, “How about this one?”
“No.”
The man’s face sours as he nods his head, placing down another one, and another one, and another one. “And these?”
“I’m sorry sir, I’m afraid I can’t help you.” Is his palms sweating and his heart rapidly beating in his chest? Yes. But that doesn’t change that fact that he will not sell out his fellow dissidents.
Narrowed eyes meet his and for a second, he wants to speak out of fear, but instead, Estonia pulls in on himself, allowing a moment of weakness in hopes of that being the thing that forces this man away from him. It doesn’t though and he slams his hands on the desk again, moving to stand.
The door opens.
“Now what do we have here?”
Once upon a time, Ivan’s voice was the one that haunted his nightmares – the abuses that he suffered at the Russian nation’s hands plagued him still – but now other voices take that place and all he feels is a sense of bitter relief at the sight of the other nation. Better the devil you know, his brain supplies for him as he watches the government official straighten up and force a smile onto his face.
“Ivan!” The man greets, walking around his desk to stand right next to Estonia’s shoulder. A hand finds its way to rest on him, squeezing lightly. “You were supposed to check in with my secretary.”
Russia’s smile grows, eyes narrowing as he moves one step forward into the room. The man moves back a step, his hand falling from Estonia’s shoulder before Russia moves forwards again. “I didn’t want to,” he replies, head tilting and shoulders shrugging, “I will be taking this one now.”
The man stops smiling, swallowing a gulp of air before he says, “I’m afraid, sir, that we still have a bit more to discuss.”
“I don’t care.” Russia lays a hand on his shoulder and Estonia takes a moment to deep breath instead of flinching. Reactions make the other nation interested and Estonia has not survived his house with the least amount of trauma – which is not saying much – by showing his interesting reactions the other. “Stand up.”
Stand up or I’ll break your legs!
A hand yanking on his hair. Curses are shouted. Get on your knees bitch.
“Up, up, Estonia, we have places to go.” Russia’s childish voice cuts through the thoughts in his head, the ones trying to slink their way out of the box.
He pushes down on them, closing his eyes before he moves to stand up. Once standing, he straightens his shoulders ever so slightly and tries to force himself back into his normal around Russia. “Yes, Mister Russia, sir,” he says after a second.
There’s a dangerous look upon the other nation’s face and even though it is not directed towards him, Estonia can recognize this for what it is: a power play. It’s not the first time the Russian has fought with his government in this passive aggressive way, but it is the first time that another nation has fallen into harm because of it. Well, that and his own arrogant stupidity.
“We are leaving now,” Russia is saying, his voice sickly sweet. “I’m sure I will see you in a few weeks, Yuri.”
The man – Yuri, a name that rings some kind of bell in Estonia’s head – nods and moves to sit right back down. “Of course,” is said in fake cheer, “I look forward to our conversations.”
Russia turns without saying anything else, Estonia takes one last look at the man – he has a name now, his brain tries, but forever he will only remember him as ‘the man’ – and the stern look that has fallen across his face speaks more words than their previous conversations did.
He will be watching, waiting for Estonia to take one step out of line to drag him back here. Estonia didn’t break how he wanted him to and this man will try for a second time at some point in the future.
It chills him to the bones.
____
The drive back to the manor is shorter than he remembers. It seems that as soon as they get in the car, they are halfway there.
Logically, Estonia knows that’s not true, but he barely remembers any of the drive until Russia is telling him how much Lithuania and Latvia has missed him. A warmth blooms in his chest as Russia says, “Poor little Latvia has worried nonstop even after I told him of your employment as a secretary – you left so suddenly,” that he can even ignore the dig at the lie he’s replied with multiple times already.
It seems the Russian knows that he’s lying but is waiting for him to say it instead of confronting him on it.
Estonia is thankful for that. He knows that eventually it will come to a head, but he has much more practice at hiding his troubles than Russia has with patience, and so he believes that he will be safe for a while longer. Which is good, because with the fear he holds tight in his body, being confronted about everything is not a thing that he really wants to deal with at the moment.
“You will have the rest of today to settle yourself,” Russia was saying, his voice far more relax than Estonia figured he’d be knowing he was being lied to. “I expect you to help around the house though tomorrow.”
“Of course.” He’d need something to keep his mind off his thoughts. “Thank you, Mister Russia.”
A hum, but otherwise, the conversation is dead.
Which is fine for the Estonian. There are no more words that need to be said between them – theirs is not a relationships marked by the tentativeness of scraping past injuries yet a willing eye towards their future, instead it is a sinking ship upon which the captain has chained his men to the mast to await their watery grave. There is no comforting words to be given between the two of them; no apologies for governments overstepping, or trying to incite mass protests, or the past deeds they have done against each other. No sense in looking for forgiveness or anything more than surface level interactions.
The car pulls into the driveway by time Estonia thinks to open his mouth to ask about the others – is Miss Ukraine doing well? What about Miss Belarus? Has Prussia driven Lithuania to murder yet? - and all his questions disappear as he spots Lithuania and Latvia standing next to the open door.
There are bags beneath their eyes but the relief in them outshine anything else.
Estonia waits until Russia opens the door for him, letting the other nation walk ahead like he knows to do. It takes everything he has – and the slimy feeling in his gut – to resist the urge to wrap his arms around both of them and never let go. He’s not one for hugging usually, but he wants the comfort that comes from such a hug.
“Welcome back, Mister Russia,” they greet, a smile on their faces. For once they don’t look as forced. “Welcome back, Estonia.”
“Lithuania, Latvia.” He nods his head in greeting. His eyes meet Lithuania, the all knowing older brother figure, and he knows that Lithuania knows that he is not alright and if Lithuania knows than it’s only a matter of time before Latvia knows.
Russia is speaking though, giving them directions, and Estonia barely listens to a single word he’s saying. Instead he’s cataloging the other two in his mind. It’s been so long and the only mention of the two while he was gone was vague threats towards them and his tormentors telling him how little they missed him.
Lithuania looks as if death has visited him every night; the fatigue in his body is so noticeable that Estonia is worried immediately. The other never lets anyone see him this tired – not unless he can’t help it. The way his body seems to sag even as it’s standing straight makes him wonder what sort of harm has befallen Lithuania while he was gone.
Latvia is, at least, only trembling, but there is something beneath the surface of his eyes that that worries the Estonian. It’s anger, directed straight at Russia. Whatever has gone on while he was gone has brought an emotion to the Latvian that Estonia did not know the other could feel. Of course, he knew that Latvia could feel anger – everyone could, but he truly believed that Latvia’s other emotions were too weigh over by fear and trauma.
“Anyway, go, go,” Russia says, cutting into his thoughts as he pushes on Estonia’s back. The Estonian holds back a hiss as the other nation continues, “Remember, I expect you all to be ready to do your duties early in the morning.”
“Of course,” they all manage to say at the same time as the Russian leaves to go elsewhere in the manor.
The first words out of Lithuania’s mouth as soon as they are alone, Latvia attaching himself to Estonia’s midsection, are, “What did they do to you?” and for a second, Estonia pauses in his movement to welcome the hug, unsure of what to say.
It’s on the tip of his tongue to say something, either the truth (he promises he won’t tell, he’ll never tell) or the lie, when Lithuania shakes his head, “No, it’s okay, we’ll deal with that later, let’s just get you safe.”
Not comfortable, safe.
Estonia nods. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever feel that again, but he knows that as long as they are living in Russia’s home, he definitely won’t. There is no safety in a place you cannot speak about – no safety in a place you were forced to come to. There is no safety in a place where you will be watched until you mess up – and Estonia knows himself, he will mess up at some point. He will begin piecing himself back together tomorrow and sometime in the future he will misstep and he will be dragged right back in front of that man to answer for it.
The only way to not be is to let this silence him; let this be the only warning he needs to keep himself in line.
But he can’t, he thinks as he’s lead through the house and towards their shared bedroom. In silence, there is some quiet acceptance that this is what it is now and Estonia, bruises fading, body aching, soul shattered, cannot accept this.
He refuses.
____
Additional Notes: Anyway, sorry for the dark fic yet again, seriously hoping the next thing I have for you guys is a lot more happy. I've got like 80% of a happy fic finished but like the last bit is kicking my ass.
Historical notes && information:
*Takes place literally right after Isolation
*Being naked in literally so many other places are not as sexualized as it is in America, and like group showers/saunas/nude beaches are all fine because it's like the great equalizers - which like I get but at the same time I don't really want to see anyone nude ever so *shrug*
*There's far too many medications for me to list but like just pick a benzo that was in production during that time and you'll have what I was thinking of.
*Ten thousand percent little baby Estonia fought against the Nordics during their viking era (bby!Est as a little sea faring child who just wants the vikings to piss off is a thing thank you for coming to my ted talk) and everything and one day I'll write a fic for that, but like look through their history, Estonians really fought a lot - their resilience in the face of occupation is truly admirable.
*This kid's the product of an Estonian mother and a Ukrainian father and honestly only exists for this one series fic.
*I have talked about this before and I'll talk about it again, there's got to be some kind of agreement between governments, otherwise any goodwill is immediately shattered. I mean, I'm not politician (I have morals) but I am a person and if I found out that the gov of another nation tortured my nation, I'd have no desire to see any sort of friendship grow.
*What is is with occupying governments deciding the native languages are icky and like banning their usage?? Especially since the Estonian language is so pretty??? It's literally like lilting and pretty and !!!! But anyway, historically, Estonian was not considered pretty by all those occupying nations and was either outright banned or just not considered important over said occupying nation's own language. As stated, I don't think the nations who owned Est was doing it maliciously - unlike their govs - but more so in a practical, lets not rock the boat, sorta thing.
*There is enough evidence in the manga/webcomics, anime, and other supplemental material that states that Russia was volatile towards the Baltics while they lived with him, ergo Trauma.
*This entire paragraph is a headcanon. First bit, 'a brother that betrayed him,' according to an Estonian history book I have, prior to Livonia joining the whole religious thing, ancient Estonians saw them as a (kinda) brother nation, afterwards not so much. (Really sold out a family relationship for a place to live (for legal purposes, this is a joke)). Secondly, "left behind enough nations to the tide of time", there were quite a bit of nations in that area that have come and go: Courland, Semgallia, Ingeria, etc, and I know they most likely don't show up because Hima-papa hasn't done research on them/gone that deep, but I like to think that they probably just faded after a while. Lastly, I don't think some nations got to choose their own name. Like I'm not going to get into it here, but the name Alfred was only really popular in America from the late 19th century to the 1930s, so why would America have that name if it wasn't given to him by the reigning country - Britain? Anyway, I, especially, believe in the way of Est & Lat that they were named by Prussia & Livonia and since human names aren't that important, they just went a long with it. I got more thoughts, but this is already long enough.
*Name given to Estonia during the Soviet period. We don't like -∞/100.
*This man is/based after Yuri Andropov, the real life chairman of the KGB during the time this fic is taking place. He was really really a bitch who "sought the destruction of dissent" and was lead the way in committing people to psychiatric hospitals for dissidence. I don't know if I have to put allegedly here to avoid any troubles but like it was written about and everyone knows so fuck this guy.
#hws estonia#historical hetalia#torture tw#suicide mention tw#rape tw#psychiatric abuse tw#drug use tw#ii. character;; aph estonia#ii. character;; aph russia#ii. character;; aph lithuania#ii. character;; aph latvia#iii. story;; mine#iii. story;; one shot#iii. story;; complete#iii. story;; hetalia#iii. warning;; rape mention#iii. warning;; injuries#iii. warning;; torture#iii. warning;; implied/referenced torture#iii. warning;; non consensual drug use#iii. warning;; suicide mention#iii. warning;; physical abuse#iii. warning;; victim blaming#iii. genre;; historical#i. au;; historical hetalia#i. era;; soviet union
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I posted 144 times in 2022
12 posts created (8%)
132 posts reblogged (92%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@disillusionedmonster
@addictedtocaring
@sapphope
@diaryofpeachangels
@radicallyaligned
I tagged 104 of my posts in 2022
Only 28% of my posts had no tags
#wwnf - 20 posts
#female - 14 posts
#abortion - 9 posts
#my post - 9 posts
#church - 8 posts
#womanhood - 7 posts
#pro life - 6 posts
#men - 4 posts
#feminism - 4 posts
#positiviy - 4 posts
Longest Tag: 134 characters
#this made me realize that the opposite of i used to be an anti-feminist is i am a feminist but that's not very opposite substantively.
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
Words cannot describe my frustration that the only known "cure" for endometriosis is a hysterectomy.
12 notes - Posted February 9, 2022
#4
Ashley Eckstein, the voice actress for Ahsoka Tano in the animated series The Clone Wars remembers when female characters were considered unsellable.
See the full post
15 notes - Posted May 4, 2022
#3
I am not sure if this is has been asked before, and I hope I am not being rude/confrontational. Are you aware that by being christian and pro life, most feminists would say your not a real feminist? Radfems and libfems may not agree on much, but both agree that these things do not belong in feminism and are hostile to feminists like you from what I constantly see. They do not see it as a label that anyone could have. I hope you see this because I really am curious. How do you deal?
First, I appreciate your genuine question, as they are few and far between. Second, I deal because I don't care. I don't mean that in a snarky way. I mean, it doesn't matter to me if radical feminists or liberal feminists don't think I'm feminist enough. That isn't why I care about women or identify as a feminist.
There are already other feminist theories out there that favor a pro life stance (Christian Feminism is a thing), as well as the fact I have come across secular feminists who were decidedly pro life. If I identified as a radical feminist, then some of my beliefs would be nonsensical to that identity, but despite the fact that I appreciate some radical feminist theory, I don't identify as one. This is similar to how an atheist can appreciate certain aspects of a religion, and even incorporate it into their life, without being a follower of that religion.
I suppose this raises a question about what the term "feminist" means and why I use it. Truthfully, it has less to do with aligning with a specific theory since there actually isn't one that I totally agree with. Hopefully one day I'll develop one of my own to fill this gap... But the main reason I identify as a feminist is because of anti-feminists, not other feminists. I am tired of women being demonized for telling the truth. I want young girls to know it is not a sin to question things, and to care about their own well being. When feminists gave me resources and support through an abusive situation, I stopped identifying as someone who would condemn them and slowly became someone who would support them... Or at least the fundamental idea that women and girls deserve protection and opportunity.
I am a Christian, and while I try my best to obey Scripture and not twist it to my own taste (this means I don't argue against Paul), I have seen the Bible used to justify mistreatment of women too often... Seen it condemn women, "evil feminists", for standing up for themselves too often, that I think it's important to show other Christian women that I am not afraid to identify as a feminist, and that I have zero guilt about doing so. It has already made a change around other Christian women that I know and even some men, and that's what's important.
I hope this makes sense. Thank you for your ask!
17 notes - Posted May 22, 2022
#2
Tired of hearing people say that not having kids is selfish. Sure, I'll grant you that some of the reasons that might motivate a person to make that choice could be selfish, but so are some of the reasons that motivate people to have children, so that argument works both ways. Deciding not to have kids is not an inherently selfish thing, just like deciding to have kids is not an inherently selfless thing.
24 notes - Posted June 7, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
It is so incredibly tragic how much punishment women take on a regular basis for the sake of supposed aesthetics. And if she dares not to subject her body to painful, expensive, and unhygienic practices, she is still punished by society for her existence.
32 notes - Posted November 21, 2022
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