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#it uses taunts not specifically to be a dick but more for its benefit in how an angry opponent is easier to fight and predict
shibuiking · 3 months
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bumblebeerror · 1 year
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I want to talk about how Techno fights I’ve decided.
So everyone who’s ever watched the guy knows he’s great at PVP, but they don’t seem to necessarily understand why. And Techno’s fighting style is actually really interesting compared to others, especially compared to what I’ve seen from other top PVPrs, like Dream.
So first, let’s talk about Dream, because Dream is well known for being a great pvper and I love remembering my boy beat him. Dream is smart and straightforward. He stays mobile but has mastered axe crits and the shield mechanics. Dream fights like a classic tank, steamrolling through hits. It’s simple, it’s effective, and it’s overwhelming - he just rolls through you like you aren’t there. Add on pearls and crossbows and you’re able to tank from a distance as well.
It’s a really popular tactic! Combined with enchanted netherite, using this tactic you become both the unrelenting force and the immovable object. Even I use this tactic to some extent. It’s easy, it’s effective, it utilizes a lot of the game’s mechanics, it’s arguably what most people expect from Minecraft PVP now, post 1.16.
Now let’s talk Techno - playing Minecraft and specifically PVP games starting with 1.8 pvp! I have actually been playing that long too, so I recognize a lot of tactics he uses from my own experience on faction servers. 1.8 focused heavily on attention, accuracy, click speed, and not getting hit in the first place because armour was way less enchantable, way less protective, and way easier to break. Obviously skywars’ games don’t require you to care about armour durability, but it’s just to keep it in mind.
But anyway, 1.8 pvp necessitates movement. You HAVE to be mobile, you have to get out the way because as soon as you stand still in front of someone, you’ve been spam-clicked by someone with a diamond sword and you’re dead, bro. You’re dead as dicks. You're deader than dead. You died before your ping even caught up to you dyin, man. 1.8 pvp is all offense and movement.
And especially in Factions PVP, something Techno mentions doing a lot on his own, the other biggest way to win a fight in 1.8 is to lag the other person out and/or make it even harder for someone to touch you with mobs. When I played factions I had a decent laptop, and the main way I defended myself was chickens. They move a lot, they update a lot, and its Really easy to get a lot of them. Similarly, you can use just about any other mob, but chickens are easiest to put wherever you want them to be. Coincidentally, you can also do this with wolves, if you've got a good enough computer to keep them all stood up around you, with the added benefit that if someone decides to fight you, you now have a swarm of mobs between you and them.
So, to break it down for you bc thats a lot of info! I'm gonna split this into two categories: Hypixel PVP and SMP PVP.
In Hypixel PVP, Techno's main strengths were experience, general skill at the game, speed, good ping, and focus. Simply put, the guy's just really fuckin Built to do 1.8 PVP and he exploits a lot of classic mistakes that players make post 1.9 - they stand still, they dont spam click, they expect armour to do more. Techno is fuckin SPEEDY, both in game and when it comes to accessing what's going on around him and sorting thru items. Its a strong combo, and hes a strong opponent.
in SMP PVP, theres a LOT more factors to think about and also to exploit. The players are there, in call with him, to be taunted. Almost everyone he plays with isn't skilled at 1.8 pvp, as well - and that leads to a few key advantages. The main one is that unlike players used to 1.16 pvp, Techno has evolved a style that keeps the spirit of 1.8’s necessary movement while compounding how much damage he’s able to do by using things like fireworks, crossbows, slowness and harming arrows, fully enchanted netherite with full prot4 and thorns3. Thorns3 is a stacking enchantment; if you have ONE item that is thorns3, there is a chance when you are hit it will do 1/2 heart of damage per hit. If you have all four pieces enchanted, you can do up to 2 hearts per time someone hits you. That’s huge, especially because Techno doesn’t use a shield regularly, hence why he never really takes his armour off.
Techno’s mixed style is something that comes as a surprise - a lot of people keep up with versions and change their fighting style as the versions change - but Techno only adapted his. He didn’t need to relearn things, just add to them. His movement is unpredictable and he uses pots like it’s second nature. Those sorts of things are what makes Techno fucking DEVASTATING as an opponent. 1.16 is a lot of standing still and holding your shield up but that shit doesn’t work when your opponent runs around like a hyperactive toddler the whole time. And technos ability to negate the usefulness of a shield - something that is absolutely OP in game - is one of his biggest strengths.
Techno’s style is a unique mix of 1.8 and all the versions following it, focused on building on skills he already had and bolstering the things he was weak with like sheildwork or axe crits. It’s absolutely fantastic and fucking genius.
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langdxn · 4 years
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A request "Missing You" by John Waite with Duncan Shepherd? Maybe the song reminds him of his ex and the really bad heart brake he went through , sees her in a public place while he waits for his wife. He's now a happy married man and makes sure his knows. Please and thank you!
So I had a huge dilemma over whether to make the reader his ex or his wife... I hope I’ve made the right decision! Also this is an amazing song, I’ve heard it all my life but never knew who it was by so thank you for that! 🖤🖤🖤
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Duncan Shepherd wasn’t one for eye contact with strangers.
It wasn’t that he had anything to hide, he just preferred not to make any form of interaction with the people of DC. If someone spotted him and grilled him about the app outside a downtown branch of McDonald’s, he’d never live it down in his family’s social circle.
After an arduous day in the office, Duncan called his shift to an early end as he raced from the Shepherd Freedom Foundation headquarters to his wife’s favourite store to surprise her. Waiting outside the glass doors, he idly glanced into shop windows just to avoid looking like an impatient husband waiting outside a department store, faintly listening to the nostalgic tunes booming through the doors.
Every time I think of you
On the rare occasion his head lifted to catch someone’s eye, his eyes fell upon hers.
His heart dropped like a stone.
I always catch my breath
Diverting his gaze away from her as quickly as possible, his breath hitched in his throat.
The girl that broke his heart was waiting outside the next store. The blonde-haired, green-eyed siren that lured him to his downfall a matter of years before. The Medusa of his past, the person who made him feel as if he had turned to stone. That is, until he met his wife. His beautiful, loving wife that showed him how to live again.
And I'm still standing here
Fidgeting his fingers nervously, Duncan’s palms started to sweat under the pressure of her glance as she continued to look in his direction. He panicked, reaching into his pocket for a pack of cigarettes and sparked up with a shaking hand.
And you're miles away
Venturing to look back as he drew a toke, he clocked the rest of her appearance. She looked just the same as the day he threw her out. She wore the same vacuous smile, the grin that concealed a multitude of unfaithful encounters.
And I'm wondering why you left
It would have hurt less if she’d changed. Dyed her hair. Worn more makeup. Dressed differently. Held herself differently.
It would have hurt less if she didn’t still live in DC.
And there's a storm that's raging
The years he spent forgetting her flew straight out of the nearest window the second those eyes stared back at him. The same eyes he used to gaze into while making love to her. The same eyes that swore she wouldn’t cheat on him. The same eyes that remained emotionless as he lay shattered on the kitchen floor, reeling after finding countless texts from her other lover.
Through my frozen heart tonight
“What are the chances of seeing you here?” A familiar voice startled him from his day-nightmare, spinning on his heels to see those same eyes right next to him. “Still smoking, Dunc?”
A shiver vibrated through his very soul at the use of his old nickname. The name she used whenever she’d committed her another indiscretion and needed his forgiveness to get through the day. The name she used when she answered his calls while screwing her side dick.
I hear your name in certain circles
Duncan froze. The ultimatum between exuding agonising politeness and spitting vitriol at point-blank range tore away at his insides. There really was no backing out of the situation now, no shaking her off and running in the opposite direction, no pretending she had mistaken him for someone else.
And it always makes me smile
“Hmm?” He hummed back, low enough in the hope she hadn’t heard him. “Oh, hi.”
“You’re miles away, honeybee.” Another pet name that surged bile up to his throat. “How’ve you been?”
I spend my time thinking about you
Her voice grated more now than ever before. Duncan swallowed hard, hand firing up to yank at his tie as if he was choking on the starched collar.
And it's almost driving me wild
“Ye—yeah, I’m fine,” he stammered weakly, eyes widening as he realised the implication of such a poor reply. Dismissing it with a curt shake of his head, he charged in with a second attempt. “Actually I’m great! And you?”
And that's my heart that's breaking
“Oh,” she sounded downhearted at the confidence in Duncan’s voice. “That’s great to hear,” she lied. “I’m okay,” she lied again. “What brings you out of the office so early?”
Down this long distance line tonight
“I’m meeting my wife as it happens,” he shrugged up his sleeve to check his watch. “She should be here any time now.”
I ain't missing you at all
“Oh right,” she nervously shuffled her feet. “I remember seeing her on the news, she’s beautiful. You’re punching, Dunc!”
Bitch.
“Too right I am,” Duncan cocked an eyebrow at the malice laced between her words, the loaded emotion weaving amongst the syllables taunting him into retaliation. He raised his cigarette for a long, awkward intake to busy himself.
Since you've been gone away
Would asking her about her life come across as if he was genuinely interested? He wasn’t, not by any means, but the silence between them was deafening Duncan to the point he would’ve rathered the ground swallow him whole. Scratching his stubble to occupy his shaking hands, he tripped over every word that came tumbling from his lips.
I ain't missing you
“Are... are you still working over in—“
No matter what my friends say
“Oh hell no,” she dismissed, waving gesticulating hands in the space before her. “I gave that up a long time ago. I’m applying for an internship at the White House right now.”
As if this conversation couldn’t get more painful for Duncan, whose cigarette in one hand neared its end and whose other hand brushed uneasily through his brunette curls.
There's a message in the wild
“That, that should be interesting,” he raised his eyebrows feigning interest.
“Yeah,” she sighed, rinsing her hands in front of her. “Listen, I’m really sorry about how things ended between us—“
And I'm sending you this signal tonight
“Baby!” You cried out as you swung open the store doors, wrapping your arms around Duncan as your shopping bags swung around his waist. “What’re you doing here, Mr Shepherd? You’re out early!”
You don't know how desperate I've become
“Of course, I figured I’d give a late night in Guantanamo Bay a miss so I could spend it with my beautiful wife instead.” Duncan leaned in to press a haunting kiss on your lips. As you pulled away, you caught a glimpse of a woman stood beside your husband.
And it looks like I'm losing this fight
“Oh I’m sorry darling, you’ve got company! I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you!”
Your words poured sincere and heartfelt through your genuine smile as every word ever did. Even though you knew perfectly well who the woman was, you gave her the benefit of the doubt and offered her a chance to dispel your apprehensions.
In your world I have no meaning
“I’m Genevieve—Genny,” she half-shrieked, her ear-piercing high pitch indicative of a crippling insecurity at meeting her ex’s new love. “It’s great to meet you, Dunc’s an old friend of mine.”
Two lies in one sentence, Duncan thought, this sounds much more like Genevieve.
Though I'm trying hard to understand
“Oh that’s wonderful,” you smiled warmly. “How did you two meet?”
The answer wasn’t important to you in the slightest; you had no reason to distrust your husband, you simply needed something to break the ice between you.
And it's my heart that's breaking
“Oh yeah, we met at college—“
“Yeah, college,” Duncan nodded, brushing the back of his neck and staring at the ground in the vain hope the discussion would end there.
Down this long distance line tonight
A stony silence fell between the trio, clawing for new ice-breaking avenues to pursue but finding zero in common except for Duncan Shepherd. No sooner had Genevieve scanned around the three of them for conversation starters, she noticed the subtle wording and colour coding on your shopping bags.
But I ain't missing you at all
“Any—anyway,” she stammered, shaking her own shopping bags demonstrably. “I better get home and drop these off!”
Since you've been gone away
“Sure, we better head back too,” Duncan nodded, hands shoved in his pockets to avoid a farewell embrace at all costs.
I ain't missing you
“It’s been wonderful to see you again, Dunc, and to meet you, Y/N.” Genevieve’s words poured from her mouth faster than she could process them. Waving a hand out to Duncan, she smiled awkwardly. “Let me know when you’re next free, we could go for a coffee and a catch-up? That’s if you’re not too busy with the Shepherd Freedom Foundation, though.”
No matter what I might say
“Sure, sure,” Duncan spluttered, shrugging and staring at the gleaming tiles beneath his boots.
“Have a great day, won’t you?” She grinned, spinning on her heels and pacing hurriedly away into the crowd.
And there's a message that I'm sending out
“Well fuck,” Duncan huffed as soon as she left earshot. “I’m so sorry about that.”
Like a telegraph to your soul
“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, baby,” you sighed comfortingly, looping your free arm into the crook of his. “We all have a past, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
And if I can't bridge this distance
“That one certainly is. Anyway,” he dismissed with a waving hand, gazing down at your bags. “What’s the Shepherd dynasty been funding this time?”
Stop this heartbreak overload
“I—er...” you stuttered, trying to conceal one specific shopping bag from his view but failing.
'Cause I ain't missing you at all
Duncan ventured a hand toward the baby blue carrier, holding it out in front of him to read the word etched in powder pink bubble print. Duncan read the brand name aloud.
“Maternity And Beyond?”
Since you've been gone away
You drew your bottom lip between your teeth, clenching until you felt your blood rushing to the impact.
“Look, Duncan, I can explain—“
I ain't missing you
“Are you?”
“I didn’t want you to find out this way, I was going to wait until you got home.” You reached into the bag and pulled out a baby sleepsuit, personalised on the back with the words Little Shepherd.
No matter what I might say
You scanned Duncan’s face for a response, terrified he would instantly overanalyse and worry himself about the situation. The conversation on starting your family together hadn’t been raised in months, he’d been so busy with the app and you had your own career to think about. For all you knew, he could storm away into the nearest surging crowd and never be seen again, that wasn’t beyond the realms of possibility with a panicking Shepherd.
I ain't missing you, no way
Once he picked up his jaw from the floor, Duncan scooped you up in his arms and span you around in a circle, shopping bags swirling wildly around you as he held you close.
“Duncan, be careful, the baby!” You chuckled as he suddenly dropped you back to your feet and resorted to holding you by the waist, dipping gentle kisses into the nape of your neck and onto your hair.
Since you've been gone away
“You’re really pregnant?” Duncan beamed from ear to ear, planting feverish, grateful pecks all over his beautiful wife as she giggled into his touch.
I ain’t missing you
Across the street, Genevieve watched her ex drop to his knees and plant a loving, haunting kiss on your abdomen.
Duncan was not missing her at all.
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notfckincool · 4 years
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DIRTY GIRL
Ch 8 - Blood lust
Ana embarks on a casual, and obviously filthy affair with Negan, accidentally falling for the man, knowing he will never love her. Angst and kinkyfuckery.
WARNINGS: It's Negan so expect swearing, violence, sexual content throughout. I'll add specific chapter warnings as it progresses. 
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Chapter 8 - Blood Lust
Negan x Ana (OC)
Ana has worked her way up the rankings of the Saviors to be one of Negan's top guys. They get horny in the truck on the way home after punishing a rebellious community.
Warnings: firstly, questionable dark immature humour. (This is not a serious smut. I wanted their relationship to have developed into a playful friends with benefits/humorous fuck buddy scenario.) Usual =swearing, dirty talk, wanking, oral
"Not cool. NOT. FUCKING. COOL....
This insurgency...rebellion...uprising... ...whatever the fuck you want to call it, will NOT be fucking tolerated...
You. Fucking. Know this...... EVERYONE is very clear on the fucking rules, and there are no exceptions... NO. EXCEPTIONS.
Lucille is thirsty...and my dirty girl insists on having her way...Punishment will be swift and severe...... This is the way it has to be, people.....THIS is the New World Order and this is the ONLY WAY."
***
Panting and pumped with adrenaline, they turn to each other. Lucille poised at his side, soaked and stained with her latest victim, Ana clutching her dagger, dripping and glistening red in the evening light. The remains of the rebels twitch at their feet as blood pools around their boots. The sobbing in the background becomes white noise as she locks eyes with him. She idolises him and his commitment to the cause, believes in him completely. She fought for him. She killed for him. 
He brushes a blood smear from her cheek with a smirk. She watches hypnotised, as drips of claret snake their way slowly and seductively down over prominent cheekbones, collecting in the bristles of his beard. His eyes wander across her face. Touching her again, this time slowly, his thumb deliberately lingers on her skin, traces along her jaw and lips, which part as he brushes them. Her head tilts to capture the bottom of his thumb between her teeth. Biting, holding him there. 
Oblivious to their surroundings he moves in close, his large gloved hand grasping at her neck and jaw forcing her chin upwards. His gaze intense, his eyes dark and hooded, he lowers his lips to hers, hovering just out of reach. "Hmmmm" he bites on his lip as he holds her there, then abruptly turns away towards the kneeling residents. 
"Well I think that went pretty fuckin well......" 
He swings Lucille, taunting them with a grin as he swaggers passed them.
"Mistakes were made....." 
swing 
"People were punished...." 
swing 
"Lessons were learned....." 
swing 
"Damn! I am in a great fuckin mood." 
Swinging Lucille in a full circle then flicking her at the survivors, blood splatters their faces as they cower before him. Amused, he leans back laughing 
"Yep, my dirty girl is very happy, AND very satisfied..... Speaking of..." 
He turns and smirks in Ana's direction
".....I am feeling EXTREMELY turned on right now, so, I'm going home to fuck this beautiful woman.... "
He turns dramatically in Simon's direction. 
"Simon we're done here, let's wrap this shit up." 
Looking down at the floor and stamps in the mess. He points his finger down towards his feet and grimaces. 
"Ya might wanna clean this shit up before leaving" 
He shakes his boot and turns to walk away, calling over his shoulder 
"Ya'll have a pleasant fuckin evening, I'll be back in a week" 
Turning on his heels he grabs Ana by the hand and strides towards the truck. Opening the passenger door, he helps her in, giving her ass a sharp slap as she climbs in. 
"That fucking ass of yours" he growls "can't wait to get you home."
He slams the door shut, eyeing her through the windscreen with a filthy smirk as he walks around the front of the truck and climbs in the drivers side. 
"We don't have to wait until we get home" she smiles, leaning in towards him placing a hand on his thigh. He looks over at her, shaking his head and starts the engine. 
"Girl, I am horny as fuck right now, but I can't do what I want to do to you in this truck...." 
He groans and let's his tongue poke out between his teeth, chuckling and adjusting himself before pulling away. 
"....Let's get the fuck outta here." 
She edges in closer to him.
"I may have a few ideas of my own" she smiles, squeezing his thigh "but..I want you to tell me.Tell me what you want to do with me." She smirks
Glancing down at her hand he looks over her body before grinning and turning his attention back to the road. 
"You're all bloody and dirty.....he growls "so, I'm gonna start by ripping off those clothes"
"I like bloody and dirty." She purrs looking up at him her eyes darkening, her hand wandering further up his thigh 
"Not gonna lie princess, watching you tonight, seeing you shut that shit down...badass....and this..." glances at her and gestures to her blood soaked clothing, then back at the road "...... it is hot as fuck. I am getting hard just looking at you, but....I need to get you home..... I'm gonna need to soap you up in a nice hot shower for all the kissing and licking and biting that I'm fucking thinking about.., and then... im gonna bend you over...." he pauses, waiting for her reaction
" mhm, and then.." she shifts in her seat, pressing her thighs together tracing her finger over the swelling under his jeans
"..and then..." his eyes firmly focused on the road, a smile on his lips
" ...then princess, I'm gonna fuck you deep and hard, make you cum over and over until you're begging for me to stop, but I wont..." 
He raises his eyebrows and licks his bottom lip before continuing
"...I wont stop, and I'm gonna keep fucking you all night until you can't take no more.... How's that sound princess?" He grins to himself
She squirms in her chair.
"That sounds fucking great, there's just one problem." 
"What's that?" he chuckles. 
"I cant wait. I want you right now." She rubs her hand over his length "Also, if you insist on calling me Princess, I'll start behaving like one"
"Is that so? Well you are going to have to learn a little patience....Princess" 
She palms his growing erection, leans into his ear.
"I can't. I need you. I need this cock right now."
 "Fuck, Princess. I need to fuckin concentrate on driving, you gonna get us killed," He flashes her a grin "So impatient, you dirty fuckin girl."  
"I like you bloody and dirty. I want to sit in your lap and ride that big cock" She squeezes him 
"Ana. For fucks sake" he grips the steering wheel. 
"I can't help it. This is what you do to me. I'm your needy little princess." she teases, rubbing him more firmly "Im not gonna stop until I get what I want, you know that right. I wont stop. I'll keep teasing until you can't take no more" she grips his cock through his jeans "I want you to fuck me now." She pouts "Please fuck me. We can carry on when we get home." She smiles and starts to unbuckle his belt. 
"Princess, stop" he warns with a shake of his head
"Make me" she teases and bites at his ear lobe. 
"Jesus fuckin fuck. You're fuckin insane." He pulls over chuckling and turns off the engine "Luckily for you I'm in a great mood."
He grabs her onto his lap playfully spanking her hard. 
"Princess, you are so spoilt... I fuckin spoil you.... C'mere you spoilt brat" she giggles and pretends to struggle
"Ow...ooh...wait my knife...its sticking...let me just..." he rolls his eyes as she unstraps the holster and tosses it to the passenger seat. They shuffle and bump in the confined space
"Fuck! This won't do. I need this seat back" he reaches around the seat and attempts to move it "Fuck it doesn't.... what the fuck? These trucks are really not built with a quick fuck on the way home in mind" he laughs
"Stop fucking around and fuck me already" she grins unfastening her jeans 
"Wait.......I can't fuckin move" he chuckles as she tries to straddle him 
"Shit! Fuck! Ow! The steering wheel's sticking in my back" she moves awkwardly onto him and rocks on his lap "Ow, you're so hard. Wait, is that a gun in your pocket?" she jokes
"It actually fucking is" he laughs. He removes it and places it on the seat. 
Opening his jeans she slides her hand in, he attempts to get in hers, shaking his head with a smile 
"I can't get in, can you just lift your ass." 
She lifts herself up accidentally pressing the horn.
"Fuck!" they both laugh. "This is a fuckin disaster. You sure you dont just want to go home and fuck where it's comfortable." He tugs at her jeans "Nope. I can't. Just move your leg that way a bit." 
"This isn't going quite the way I imagined" she laughs. Nuzzling into his neck she settles across his lap. "Seems a shame to waste this" she runs a finger down his length. "How about I just wank you off?" She strokes the tip 
"Wank me off?" He cracks out laughing "Did you just fucking say that?"
"Yeah, you know" she chuckles "the ole five knuckle shuffle"
"Wow....Fucks sake" he laughs rubbing his head "We are something else. Yeah, why not? Go for it, princess, Five knuckle shuffle it is" he chuckles as he relaxes back into his seat, and closes his eyes as she wraps her hand around him.
"If you like I could suck it for you too" she smiles
"Yes, I would fucking love that" he grins, his eyes still shut. He moves his hips a little as she strokes him
"Yeah, that's it." He bites his lip " I want to feel your lips on me princess, feel my cock sliding into your mouth" 
" um...yeah... not to spoil the mood but we're being watched" 
"I don't give a fuck" he groans "I'm talking dirty to you here, no distractions please" he smiles, his eyes still closed. "Continue...don't fuckin stop" 
She stops. He grumbles and opens his eyes to see a walker clawing at the drivers window.
"Oh" His eyes grow wide, his eyebrows raised as he looks out the window. 
"Fuck him, he can watch if he wants" he chuckles dismissively before settling back into his seat. "Now were we? Oh yeah, you were wanking me off and just about to suck my dick" he laughs.
Adjusting her position she pulls up his shirt kissing at his chest, trailing her lips over his stomach, lowering herself slowly. She licks at his tip, circling with her tongue, taking him slowly in her mouth. Theres a sudden bang at the window. She jolts up, hitting the horn again. 
"Fucks sake" 
More oglers have gathered outside the truck and there's movement in the trees.
"Oh crap" he sighs begrudgingly. "Ok. That's it. I'm calling it. Told ya we shoulda gone straight home" 
He laughs, lifting her off his lap and back onto her seat, and tucks himself away. 
"To be continued" he chuckles starting up the vehicle "Let's get the fuck outta here. Seatbelt on princess. Safety first"  
He smiles warmly at her before pulling back out onto the road and heading back to the Sanctuary. 
 MASTERLIST
@chloejanedecker1 @negan-love @bychrissi @nayghtynegan
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bigskydreaming · 4 years
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It really, really, really can not be stressed enough, what a disservice fandom has done to the complexity of Dick and Slade’s canon comic book relationship, by simply reducing it to your fairly standard hero/villain trope. As well as making it just a master/apprentice dynamic like in Teen Titans. Their comic book dynamic is just not remotely interchangeable with that one. At all.
Among other things in the comics, in all of their encounters, Slade’s very presence is a constant living, breathing reminder of three of the outright worst moments in Dick’s life, and a walking embodiment of some of his biggest issues, all rolled up in one package.
1) Slade’s entrance to Dick’s life is the accompaniment to one of the greatest betrayals Dick has ever experienced. In order to get revenge for the death of his son, Grant, that he wrongly blamed the Titans for, Slade enlisted Tara Markov as his accomplice BEFORE any of the Titans ever met her. When her ultimate allegiances were revealed in the Judas Contract, and she singlehandedly took down and captured practically every Titan except for Dick, who escaped Slade when the latter saved him for himself....Dick, along with the other Titans, had to reconcile the fact that this woman they’d called their teammate, their friend, that they’d shared so much with, told so much to...had never been one of them. 
Not really. She’d been plotting their betrayal and deaths from the literal first moment they ever met her. With Dick having to shoulder the additional burden that like...he was the team leader. He was the one who ultimately was responsible for approving her addition to the team, who made the decision, who vouched for her and said okay. I am giving you my trust, and by extension, telling everyone of my teammates who puts their trust in me to do right by them, that it is safe for them to trust you as well. Whether or not Dick needed to heft that much responsibility for Terra turning out to be a traitor is really not the point in this specific instance. All that matters is that he did.
Now, as an example....how many fics that touch on Slade and Dick’s relationship in comic book settings in any capacity....how many of them offhandedly reference the fact that Slade is unique among many villains or enemies of the Justice League, Titans and Batfamily, in that he knows Dick’s secret identity...and by extension, has long since figured out those of every other member of the Batfamily?
Now with that in mind.....how many of those fics ever do anything with the fact that....Slade only HAS this knowledge in the first place....because TERRA told him Dick’s secret identity way back when....after Dick trusted HER, his teammate and Slade’s secret plant from day one....with his identity and by extension, Bruce’s as well, and Jason’s, and every other member of their family who was later added in the future?
Like, it isn’t just something where Slade figured it out on his own, or Dick told him....this highly crucial, critical and rare information that Slade has when few others have it, even other heroes....Dick never voluntarily gave to him. Its stolen goods, effectively, with Slade only having gotten it by virtue of Dick’s mislaid trust in someone else entirely.
My point being.....we talk a lot in fandom about how Dick is so trusting, but the reality is....even while Dick does make a point to give people the benefit of the doubt and extend his trust at times to people with not so great reputations....this is a willful, deliberate choice on his part, a conscious effort, and not evidence of Dick having an easy time trusting people or being naive.
The reality is, Dick has massive trust issues, born in large part of the fact that his team once all almost died because he put his trust in the wrong person.....and SLADE IS QUITE LITERALLY THE FACE AT THE ROOT OF MOST OF DICK’S CANON TRUST ISSUES.
(It also needs to be acknowledged that this was while the team was very much the TEEN Titans, and Slade’s earliest appearances absolutely made not at all veiled inferences that Slade seduced Terra and used a sexual and/or romantic relationship to manipulate her and get her allegiance in the first place. When she was very much a teen herself. She was a victim as well, and Slade predatory in his interactions with her. It was statutory rape every bit as much as Liu with Dick. Like.....it is what it is guys, and you might not want to go with that take for him yourself, but no different from when people choose to focus on instances of Bruce’s abuse, you can’t get upset at people who DO want to acknowledge this aspect of things and be like....fuck any kind of Slade redemption or Slade positivity.)
2) Slade also happens to represent one of the single worst moments of Dick’s life, and what he’s often regarded as one of his greatest personal failures.....and that’s Joey’s death. Joey was possessed by the evil spirits left over from Raven’s home dimension after the team finally banished Trigon for good, with his own possession powers having made him particularly vulnerable to them possessing him en masse, and they over time took more and more control of him until he was effectively just a helpless passenger in his own body for a period of months, maybe even longer than a year. 
While these spirits went about using his body to infiltrate and then hijack control of The Wildebeest Society, a group made up of former Titans foes for the express purpose of defeating the Titans.....and then as leader of the Wildebeest Society....having them systematically hunt down every Titan to ever exist, past or present, murdering many of them and capturing most of their superpowered members for the intended use of their bodies as hosts for the spirits sharing Joey’s body.
Now, not only is this a pretty direct parallel to Dick’s own experience being a brainwashed mole of the Church of Blood for over a year, secretly working to undermine his own teammates without any conscious control or even awareness of his own actions there, and with none of his teammates any the wiser, just as Dick himself hadn’t suspected anything wrong with Joey leading up to this reveal....
But after the Wildebeest Society had successfully either captured or killed every other Titan, Dick infiltrated their headquarters in disguise, in an attempt to free his teammates....only to be be caught and imprisoned by ‘Joey.’ With the latter then revealing the truth of why he was acting like this....and then continuing to keep Dick as his prisoner, chained up right by his side and tortured and helpless for over a week, as he and his minions continued with the rest of their work in preparing the carefully drugged/comatose Titans to be the spirits’ new hosts.
Let me reiterate....for over a week, Dick was the prisoner of evil spirits parading around in the body of one of his closest friends - the literal first person Dick chose to place his trust in again after it was first broken by Terra’s betrayal in the first place - while these spirits, did all of this in front of him with Joey’s face and body....gloating, taunting him, trying in every way imaginable to break him and his spirit. The whole time callously speaking of their intentions for the rest of Dick’s closest friends and their bodies, as they went about the final steps of their plan to basically use Dick and his team as the very tools they used to destroy everything they’d ever worked to protect and save.
Dick was only able to stop this and wake up the rest of his team...with Slade’s help, when the latter came in search of Joey himself. And at the end of it all, Joey was able to retake control of himself long enough to beg his father to kill him, before the spirits were able to overpower him again and use him to fulfill the rest of their plans.
Right in front of Dick.
Dick of course had spent the entire time he was a prisoner, trying his best to get through to Joey, believing with all his heart that Joey was in there still and could be saved, and of course, blaming himself for not seeing that something was wrong with Joey and stopping all of this sooner.
And then and there, Dick saw Joey resurface just as Slade did.....but while Dick saw this as proof that Joey was still there, could still be saved, they shouldn’t give up on him....Slade believed that doing the right thing then and there meant honoring Joey’s wishes for one of the first times ever in his life....even though that ultimately meant....also running Joey through with his sword. Again.....with Dick right there, still powerless to do anything to get up and help Joey, stop Slade, or propose another plan of action. He watched one of his best and dearest friends killed by his own father, because...in Dick’s own eyes....he’d failed to come up with an alternative in all the time he was prisoner....and failed to stop things from getting to that point in all the time before that, while Joey was possessed.
My point being....in the comic books, whether Dick and Slade are currently on good terms, bad terms, or neutral terms....they always exist for each other as a constant reminder of the death of one of the most important people in their lives. With that death being something they each blame themselves for and consider one of their greatest failures...as well as that death also being something they each at times have blamed each other for, for failing to come up with a way to save Joey, or protect him before he got to that point.
3) And finally, the third item of importance that I’m gonna gloss over for now as its more directly relevant to a post I wanna make about this later.....Slade’s direct involvement in the destruction of Bludhaven literally can’t be stressed enough. Whether you deem it in character or think he was written largely out of character at the time, with a case to be made for either stance, I think, the point remains that if you’re referencing Bludhaven having been destroyed at all, to any degree....Slade is once again at the heart of that matter, integral to every step of how that ultimately played out....with his position as the Society’s point man on that operation and his own personal grudge with Dick over various things, as well as Dick’s training of his daughter Rose - at Slade’s own insistence, but in ways Slade wasn’t pleased with, since Dick helped cultivate Rose’s actual heroic inclinations and instincts, which Slade did NOT sign off on - like, these things were directly step by step the path towards the Society ultimately following through and dropping Chemo on Bludhaven. With like, that being something that Slade absolutely could have stopped, thanks to his position, and even promised Dick as part of the agreement they made, that he WOULD keep from happening....only to renege on his word there.
In conclusion, Dick and Slade’s relationship and dynamic is SO SO SO SO SO MUCH MORE complex and varied than its basically ever made out to be in fanfics, and stems in large part from this one specific little tidbit that hardly ever seems to make it into fics’ final cuts.....
Slade respects Dick. Even when he doesn’t like him.
And I know, I know that fics pay a lot of lip service to this idea, but for the most part, its not substantiated. Or its clarified as though Slade respects Dick’s potential, or what he could be with Slade’s help or instruction....but that’s literally not the point of their canon.
The point is despite Dick being decades younger, Slade respects Dick as an opponent. As someone who has beaten him, bested him, in various ways and at various points. As well as respecting Dick as being a person who Slade’s son respected, and trusted, and valued a great deal. With a lot of Slade’s own memories of his son transferred onto Dick at times as a proxy, with Dick essentially acting as a stand-in for the son that Slade regrets never taking the time to get to know better...and here’s Dick, who knew and understood Joey better than just about anyone, certainly better than Slade. Which I personally believe Slade resents and even hates Dick for, for being someone that Joey both trusted and loved when Slade knows that likely wasn’t true of Joey’s view of him.....but I believe its also why Slade has never been able to bring himself to actually try and kill Dick and be rid of his threat to his plans for good....because doing so would be like killing the last real link Slade sees to the son he himself killed by his own hand.
Dick Grayson, for Slade....also happens to be the man who had every reason to not want anything to do with anyone associated with Slade, after Terra broke his trust, because of Slade’s own machinations.....while at the same time...Dick Grayson and his willingness to still extend that trust to Slade’s own son not long after that....are the very reasons that Joey ever had the opportunity to be the hero that Joey had always wanted to be....and that people ultimately remembered him as. There’s a reason Slade wanted Dick to be the one to train his daughter, after all - with the reason he was pissed at Dick for it ultimately being that Dick ended up being better at it than Slade had hoped, and Rose ultimately siding with Dick instead of Slade herself.
And even more importantly, IMO, Slade - even at times when he resents Dick for it at the exact same time - respects Dick for the choices Dick makes. For the precise fact that they aren’t the choices that Slade himself would make, that they’re choices Slade often thinks he couldn’t make.
He doesn’t disdain Dick for his choices or priorities or look down on him for them. Dismiss him because of them. They’re the heart and soul of WHY Slade respects Dick....and the fact that even with those extremely different priorities that Slade often doesn’t agree with...Dick STILL manages to come out the winner in a lot of encounters.
So this Slade Wilson who grudgingly admits that Dick Grayson has potential, but that its stunted and wasted without his own training, and because of the ‘weak, ill-advised’ choices that Dick makes and the things Dick prioritizes.....
Like, that has as little to do with actual canon pre-Flashpoint Slade, as the actual canon pre-Flashpoint Dick has to do with the depiction of him in many of these fics. Where Dick feels hopelessly outmatched and inadequate next to Slade or when facing him, like, he desperately starts praying the second Slade enters the fight cuz that’s the only way he’ll survive....or else he feels naive and dumb, or thinks how foolish he must look to Slade, or how raw or untrained or novice.....not to mention the times he’s focused on viewing Slade as a reflection of Bruce in various ways, or his dynamic with Slade as having anything to do with his dynamic with Bruce.
Again...umm, what? No. That’s not how Dick has ever been shown viewing their relationship either. The times he’s in conflict with Slade, he’s not questioning himself or second-guessing his abilities or praying he survives - he’s usually just PISSED, because of whatever thing has brought him into conflict with Slade this time. And not in that fanfic way where he’s unreasonable or irrational because of his anger and it clouds his judgment...in the way where he uses his anger to hone and focus his skills and just keep him going no matter how many hits he takes. Slade is an opponent whose skills Dick absolutely knows better than anyone else, and by extension respects those skills absolutely - but he is at the same time an opponent Dick has faced many times before, AND WALKED AWAY FROM EVERY TIME. 
No, Dick doesn’t take his victory or even his survival against Slade for granted, but he’s not remotely fear-stricken or rendered inadequate by the possibility of failure....he knows that there are no guarantees of success, but by the same token, he’s equally aware that Slade’s reputation is no guarantee of his own failure....with his own track record with the man being proof of that.
And at the same time....when they’re not directly in conflict....Dick does not feel invalidated or naive or dumb when around Slade, because of their age difference. He isn’t suddenly rendered like he feels like he’s a little kid sitting with a grown up. He’s usually just tired. He has as little illusions about Slade as Slade has about him. Dick KNOWS better than ANYONE, just how much Slade doubts and second-guesses his OWN choices, regrets his OWN priorities and decisions at times. So by extension...Dick doesn’t take their encounters OR Slade’s opinion as reason to feel inadequate or second-guess himself? He knows damn well that Slade has a higher opinion of choices that Dick himself even regrets making, than Slade does some of his own decisions. 
There’s not this.....gap between them experience wise, not in the sense that Dick can remotely compare to Slade’s much vaster library of life experiences, but rather in the sense that like.....Dick doesn’t care, you know? That’s not the point. Dick’s never comparing himself or his decisions to Slade’s with a measuring stick any time they encounter each other, because each encounter they have is so vastly more weighted by what they both represent to each other, their shared tragedies and personal failures and regrets, and their mutual awareness of these things and what they embody for each other. Dick - just like Slade himself is - is usually too preoccupied being focused on every thing that being around the other brings up for him....to have any mental energy left over for all this other stuff.
Comic book Dick and Slade, for each other, just carry too much knowledge of the life experiences they both have in common, because of their past interactions and shared connections.
Anyway, I will do another post soon about the comic book Renegade arc in particular, because its SO much more interesting than just the ‘Dick was Slade’s student or apprentice’ facsimile that I think people assume it to be. Like, Dick didn’t go to him as a supplicant, and Slade didn’t for a second think he was actually turning traitor. Slade asked him to train Rose in exchange for Slade’s help with his own plans, in part because Slade RESPECTS Dick’s skills as a trainer of heroes, not seeks him as a student for himself....but ALSO as a kind of manipulation - personally, I think he was hoping to use Dick’s inevitable concern and compassion for Rose as a buffer to keep Dick from betraying Slade or tripping him up when he tried.....and of course Dick actually ended up getting ROSE to turn on Slade instead? 
But at the same time, its not one sided at all, because there was a particularly clever bit about how Dick faced off against Superman as Renegade, and tried to use his heartbeat to send Clark the message that he wasn’t actually betraying the heroes and not to listen to the words he was saying, but the fact that his heartbeat showed that he was lying....except Slade had ANTICIPATED this, and had rigged the glove of Dick’s Renegade costume ahead of time to be like, wirelessly linked to a remote he had as he watched Dick and Clark’s interactions through the video feed on Dick’s mask.....and Slade used this remote to send wireless signals through Dick’s glove that matched the sound of Dick’s heartbeat and in essence let Slade alter the rhythm of what Clark thought was Dick’s heartbeat....but was actually just Slade literally clicking buttons. 
So Dick was getting more and more confused about why even though he was saying all this stuff about being too jaded by the League’s failures and done with heroism, like, why was Clark actually BELIEVING him instead of realizing he was clearly lying from the sound of his heart....and Clark was actively getting more and more upset as he talked and actually trying to FIGHT him and Dick eventually had to flee with Clark actually like.....furious with him, and Dick had no idea why. With this, I think, being one of the things Dick actually full on HATES Slade for the most (and I think what directly motivated Dick getting Rose to turn on her father) - like, Clark has been Dick’s number one support and fan from day one, even when Bruce wasn’t at times. He’s the one person who has pretty much ALWAYS believed in Dick no matter what. 
And Slade managed to take that away. To get Clark to literally look at Dick as the enemy. To not believe him, believe in him. Like. That’s something I don’t think Dick has ever forgiven Slade for or ever will.
So yeah. There’s so much more to Dick and Slade’s dynamic than fics represent, and I wish people delved more into this other stuff, because its so much more INTERESTING in my opinion than just like, your usual ‘older supervillain toys with younger outmatched superhero’ or master and apprentice stuff, etc.
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Paladin Week: Honor Systems
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image credit: Dan Dos Santos (Fable #136)
Codes of Honor Throughout History
Check out these tenets of honor or virtues from around the world! Use them to create your own Paladin oaths/vows!
Chivalry
From the Song of Roland. The term "paladin" comes from the knights of Charlemagne, and Roland was a huge common thread in the stories about them. So if anything, these are the most paladin-y vows you can ever vow.
To fear God and maintain His church
To serve the liege in valor and faith
To protect the weak and defenseless
To give succor to widows and orphans
To refrain from wanton giving of offence
To live by honor and for glory
To despise pecuniary reward
To fight for the welfare of all
To obey those placed in authority
To guard the honor of fellow knights
To eschew unfairness, meanness, and deceit
To keep faith
At all times to speak the truth
To persevere to the end in any enterprise begun
To respect the honor of women
Never refuse a challenge from an equal
Never turn the back upon a foe
Seven Heavenly Virtues
Originating from the Christian bible. Basically the opposites of the seven deadly sins.
Chastity: Discretion of sexual conduct.
Temperance: Restraint and abstinence.
Charity: Generosity and self-sacrifice.
Diligence: Decisive work ethic and perseverance.
Patience: Forgiveness, mercy, and peace.
Kindness: Compassion towards others.
Humility: Thinking of yourself less.
Bushido
From the Bushido, the Soul of Japan by Nitobe Inazo
Die when it is right to die, strike when it is right to strike.
It is true courage to live when it is right to live, and to die only when it is right to die.
Benevolence brings low whatever hinders it, as water subdues fire.
In its highest form politeness approaches love.
Propriety carried beyond bounds becomes a lie.
Dishonor is like a scar on a tree which time, instead of healing, only widens.
Demonstrate the sincerity of your words to your lord with the shedding of your own blood.
Stoicism
Founded originally by Zeno of Citium in 3rd century Greece, and practiced famously by Emperor Marcus Aurelius during the reign of the Roman Empire. These are not a set list as very few fragments of the original Stoics' teachings have survived, so I tried to gather the main tenets of it for you.
Happiness lies in the pursuit of virtue, and virtue is the logic that pervades nature.
Everything else is secondary to virtue, and worrying about these only creates harmful emotions.
All creatures are equal to one another
Judgment is based on actions, not words
One cannot rely on luck or faith, only ourselves and our actions
The natural state of the universe is perfect order and all events are acts of fate.
Pashtunwali
Originating from the native Pashtun tribes in Pakistan and Afghanistan. This code lasted a long time for these mountain-dwelling tribes who were often outside of governmental control.
Melmastia: Showing hospitality and respect to all visitors without the hope of remuneration or favor.
Nanawatai: Give protection to those who are beset by their enemies.
Nyaw aw Badal: So seek justice or take revenge against a wrong. Even the slightest taunt must be met with the shedding of blood.
Turah: Defend your land, property, and family against tyranny with your life.
Sabat: Remain loyal to your friends, family, and tribe.
Khegara/Shegara: Strive for righteousness in thought, word, and deed towards people, animals, and the environment.
Groh: Keep trust in Khudai (Allah, God).
Pat, Wyaar aw Meraana: Respect yourself and others, have pride in your society, and demonstrate courage.
Naamus: Defend the honor of women at all costs from vocal and physical harm.
Nang: Defend those who are weak.
Hewaad: Protect the homeland and defend your nation and culture.
Sae Sok O-Gye
The moral code of the hwarang, also known as the Flowering Knights, created by Buddhist monk Won Gwang.
Loyalty to country
Devotion to family
Trust among friends
Never retreat from battle
Kill only with forethought
The Nine Noble Virtues
A code of honor used in Odinism and Asatru that comes from the Poetic Edda, a collection of Old Norse anonymous poems, particularly the Havamal - The Ballad of the High One, and the Sigrdrifumal.
Strength is better than weakness
Courage is better than cowardice
Joy is better than guilt
Honor is better than dishonor
Freedom is better than slavery
Kinship is better than alienation
Realism is better than dogmatism
Vigor is better than lifelessness
Ancestry is better than rootlessness
Machiavellianism
I would call this a code of dishonorable strategy than a code of honor. It stems from Niccolo Machiavelli's book on leadership, The Prince. I would use this for a lawful-evil or lawful-neutral paladin. These are a collection of Machiavellian values in no particular order as there is no set list:
Never was anything great achieved without danger.
Reliable allies are those who benefit from your successes.
There is little difference between obstacle and opportunity and you should turn both to your advantage.
The more sand has escaped from the hourglass of our life, the clearer we should see through it.
Forgiving those who wrong you is a mistake, for it undercuts the efforts of the loyal.
Passion is the best motivator.
Trust the honesty of enemies over that of friends. Enemies are quick to criticize.
The first method for estimating the intelligence of a ruler is to look at the men he has around him.
The difficult path is often the best, for you learn from your difficulties.
I am not interested in preserving the status quo. I want to overthrow it.
The Art of War
Again, more of a strategy guide than a code of honor, save this for war-driven or cunning paladins. Here are quotes from the Chinese general Sun Tzu's The Art of War, in no particular order.
The best policy is to take a state intact; to ruin it is inferior to this.
An army may be likened to water...so an army avoids strengths and strikes weaknesses.
Know the enemy and know yourself.
To be prepared for any contingency is the greatest of virtues.
Those skilled in war bring the enemy to the field of battle and are not brought there by him.
Move not unless you see an advantage, use not your troops unless there is something to be gained, fight not unless the position is critical.
Making no mistakes is what establishes the certainty of victory, for it means conquering an enemy that is already defeated.
When one treats people with benevolence, justice, and righteousness, and reposes confidence in them, the army will be united in mind and will be happy to serve.
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image credit: Kirsi Salonen
“Evil” Codes of Honor
Evil codes of honor are more difficult to come by in history, so it’s encouraged to write your own. When writing vows for an evil paladin or ex-paladin, be sure to write it so it seems like something one could feasibly believe in or agree to. Don’t write vows like “Kill everyone you see who isn’t evil” or “be a dick to everyone you meet.” Those aren’t reasonable. Evil vows are simply a matter of perspective. Use some of these as examples or ideas:
Mercy: Only those who align with your faith deserve mercy.
Self-Reliance: Those who cannot defend themselves are weak and are not worthy of aid.
Trust: The only people who can be trusted are your deity and your self.
Strength: Power yields to power as you yield to your deity.
Justice: Those who have committed what you perceive as an evil deserve to suffer or even to die.
Passion: Pride and fervor in your mission and vows are the pinnacles of virtue.
Necromancy: The forms of the dead are borrowed for your purpose before returning to your deity.
Truth: Your word is your bond, but the terms are very specific.
Honor: Your foes must be met on equal terms even if you intend to slay them.
Survival: Your own life is worth more than anyone else's.
Allies: Ensure your allies have a reason to aid you, because generosity is an illusion.
Faith: Keep your faith with the rites and rituals ordained by your deity, potentially including blood sacrifice.
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clavery111 · 7 years
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Adam Gopnik, from The New Yorker
I have, I’m afraid, a terrible confession to make: I have never been a huge fan of George Orwell’s “1984.” It always seemed, in its extrapolations from present to future, too pat, a little lacking in the imaginative extrapolations we want from dystopian literature. As the British author Anthony Burgess pointed out a long time ago, Orwell’s modern hell was basically a reproduction of British misery in the postwar rationing years, with the malice of Stalin’s police-state style added on. That other ninth-grade classic, Aldous Huxley’s “Brave New World,” where a permanent playground of sex and drugs persists in a fiercely inegalitarian society, seemed to me far more prescient, and so did any work of Philip K. Dick’s that extrapolated forward our bizarre American entertainment obsessions into an ever more brutal future in which Ken and Barbie might be worshipped as gods. “1984” seemed, in contrast, too brutal, too atavistic, too limited in its imagination of the relation between authoritarian state and helpless citizens.
An unbidden apology rises to the lips, as Orwell’s book duly climbs high in the Amazon rankings: it was far better and smarter than good times past allowed us to think. What it took, of course, to change this view was the Presidency of Donald Trump. Because the single most striking thing about his matchlessly strange first week is how primitive, atavistic, and uncomplicatedly brutal Trump’s brand of authoritarianism is turning out to be. We have to go back to “1984” because, in effect, we have to go back to 1948 to get the flavor.
There is nothing subtle about Trump’s behavior. He lies, he repeats the lie, and his listeners either cower in fear, stammer in disbelief, or try to see how they can turn the lie to their own benefit. Every continental wiseguy, from Žižek to Baudrillard, insisted that when they pulled the full totalitarian wool over our eyes next time, we wouldn’t even know it was happening. Not a bit of it. Trump’s lies, and his urge to tell them, are pure Big Brother crude, however oafish their articulation. They are not postmodern traps and temptations; they are primitive schoolyard taunts and threats.
The blind, blatant disregard for truth is offered without even the sugar-façade of sweetness of temper or equableness or entertainment—offered not with a sheen of condescending consensus but in an ancient tone of rage, vanity, and vengeance. Trump is pure raging authoritarian id.
And so, rereading Orwell, one is reminded of what Orwell got right about this kind of brute authoritarianism—and that was essentially that it rests on lies told so often, and so repeatedly, that fighting the lie becomes not simply more dangerous but more exhausting than repeating it. Orwell saw, to his credit, that the act of falsifying reality is only secondarily a way of changing perceptions. It is, above all, a way of asserting power.
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When Trump repeats the ridiculous story about the three million illegal voters—a story that no one who knows, that not a single White House “staffer,” not a single Republican congressman actually believes to be true—he does not really care if anyone believes it, even if, at some crazy level, he does, sort of. People aren’t meant to believe it; they’re meant to be intimidated by it. The lie is not a claim about specific facts; the lunacy is a deliberate challenge to the whole larger idea of sanity. Once a lie that big is in circulation, trying to reel the conversation back into the territory of rational argument becomes impossible.
And so CNN’s Jake Tapper, to his credit, may announce boldly that the story is false from beginning to end—but then he is led by his own caution and sense of professionalism to ask Trump whether, if he sees it as true, there ought to be an investigation into it. Tapper, like everyone else, knows perfectly well that a minimally honest investigation would turn up no proof of this absurdity at all. But that, of course, is the trap, the game. Watch: there will be a “commission” consisting of experts borrowed from Breitbart; it will hold no hearings, or hold absurdly closed ones; or hold ones with testimony from frequent callers to “The Alex Jones Show”—and this clownish commission will then baldly conclude that there is, indeed, widespread evidence of voter fraud. And Trump will reassert the lie and point to his commission’s findings as his evidence.
Meanwhile, the Republicans in Congress, thoroughly intimidated, fear shining from one eye and cupidity from the other, will exploit the “question” of voter fraud to pursue policies of actually suppressing minority voters. Caligula, the mad Roman emperor, infamously appointed his horse Incitatus to the Roman Senate, and that has been for millennia a byword for cracked authoritarian action. But we now know what would happen if Caligula appointed his horse to the Senate if the modern Republican Party happened to be in the majority there: first the Republicans would say that they didn’t want to get into disputes about the Emperor’s personnel choices, and then they’d quickly see how the presence of the horse could help justify dismantling regulations in the horse-chariot industry. (“Well, you know, he’s an unorthodox kind of Emperor, so I don’t want to get into that, Jake—but I will say that, whatever the Emperor’s beliefs, we have a very inclusive party, and, if we’re slackening regulations on the stables, I want to point out it’s with the full and welcome participation of a horse.”) The Emperor’s lunacy and the senators’ larceny match perfectly.
Starting this week, it’s vital that everyone who is trying to maintain sanity understand that this is so—that it is a myth that reason, as normally undertaken, is going to affect this process or that “consequences,” as they are normally understood, will, either. Whenever there is an authoritarian coup rooted in an irrational ideology, well-meaning people insist that it can’t persist because the results are going to be so obviously bad for the people who believe in it, whether it’s the theocratic revolution in Iran or the first truly autocratic Administration in America. Tragically, terribly, this is never the way it works. There is no political cost for Trump in being seen to be incompetent, impulsive, shallow, inconsistent, and contemptuous of truth and reason. Those are his politics. This is how he achieved power. His base loves craziness, incompetence, and contempt for reason because sanity, competence, and the patient accumulation of evidence are things that allow educated people to pretend that they are superior. Resentment comes before reason. Conservative intellectuals, as a reading of the Times each day reveals, turn out to share these resentments far more deeply than they value the rational practices. Having experienced this condescension, or so they imagine, on the larger stage of universities and publishing houses, they may mistrust the demagogue, but they actively hate those who demonstrate against him. The demagogue they regard only with disdain; his critics are an ancient object of hatred and contempt. If forced to choose, they will always choose the demagogue before the demonstrators. If there’s one thing we really do know from social science, it’s that people are far more determined to see their ancient enemies made miserable than themselves made happier.
On the positive side, well, there were the women’s marches last weekend, which filled any sane heart with hope. What had seemed doubtful a short week before—that there could be unified, peaceful, indeed joyous mass action against the madness—was fully realized, and for what one hopes will be only the first of many times. It left our minds inspired with simple slogans that did not oversimplify: Community is the only cure for catastrophe. Action is the only antidote to anger. If these sound a bit like Winston’s private mutterings in “1984”—when he writes secretly, for instance, that sanity is not statistical—at least they are, for the moment, still fully public truths. Pray that they remain so.
Adam Gopnik, a staff writer, has been contributing to The New Yorker since 1986.
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DONALD TRUMP
GEORGE ORWELL
AUTHORITARIANISM
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