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horsegirldischarge · 4 years

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ferdibert’s A+ support- a weird analysis-type thing

sometimes i think about the ferdibert A+ support, and by sometimes, i mean all the time. so here’s an analysis of their A+ support that’s not really an analysis i’m just really feeling ferdibert and want to talk about Them

ferdinand/hubert‘s A+ support is one out of three same-sex A+ supports in ALL of three houses, (the other two being sylvain/felix and shamir/catherine). they’re also each other’s only A+ supports, which isn’t true of sylvix and cathmir, who all have at least one more A+ support with another person. that means that their A+ support is completely unique to them- which is quite a monumental thing all on its own, without even delving into the content of the actual support.

the fascinating thing is the presence of an A+ support AT ALL. it shows that hubert and ferdinand deeply trust each other, and care about each other a lot underneath their little rivalry. (of course, hubert will never trust and be quite as devoted to ferdinand as he is to edelgard, as her best friend and vassal, but i digress). if the goal of ferdinand and hubert’s supports was to simply make them friends, then going up to a regular A support would seemingly do the job. after all, in their A support, they’re sitting down together for tea and coffee, and hubert genuinely compliments ferdinand (despite claiming that he is a contemptible degenerate).based on hubert’s personality, that’s seemingly close enough to friendship to pass as friends.

but, nope, they didn’t stop there! the mere presence of an A+ support, plus the uniqueness of that support considering the supports between them and other people, hints at something quite a bit deeper.

and that’s without even talking about the A+ support‘s content! because... whoo boy.

[ spoiler warning for ferdinand and hubert’s A+ support (obviously)! if you haven’t seen it already, don’t be stupid and go do that first ]

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the support starts off simply enough- ferdinand and hubert run into each other by the dorms, (presumably on their way to meet each other, based on the events that follow.) quickly, they both notice that the other is carrying cargo- hubert, some tea leaves, and ferdinand, some coffee beans.

the coffee is basic enough, and not necessarily romantic. it doesn’t mention anything beyond the fact that they’re coffee beans. there is a bit of speculation around the origin of the coffee beans, which i’ll talk about in a moment. however, what is concrete is the fact that ferdinand was thinking about hubert, and remembered what he liked- and, most importantly, cares about hubert enough to give him gifts entirely unprompted.

now, coffee beans are generally imported from dagda to fodlan, from what we’ve seen in-game- i.e., the coffee beans item that hubert likes (purchasable from one of the travelling merchants) is mentioned to be dagdan. there is a distinct possibility that the coffee beans which ferdinand has are also imported. assuming that they are, there are a couple of ways that ferdinand could have acquired them.

1. having them specially imported for hubert, meaning that he thought about it ahead of time, put a lot of money into the gift (which is actually a big deal, as ferdinand loses the majority of his fortune and sway as a noble in crimson flower)

2. he simply found them at some sort of travelling merchant’s shop like how it is in-game, and bought them for hubert

the second way can also apply if the coffee beans are, in fact, not imported. the first way is interesting, but possibly less plausible.

now the tea leaves that hubert brings ferdinand are explicitly stated to be imported from the east, as shown in the screenshot from their A+ below.

this could be for either reason above, but once again, the fact remains that hubert was thinking about ferdinand when he bought the leaves, and bought them specifically for him- as is implied, and as he states.

however, the very interesting bit is that said tea is one of ferdinand’s favourites. i don’t have the screenshot, but ferdinand explicitly says that it is his ‘favourite drink.’ (this could also just mean tea in general, but i’m taking it as the former, since it’s kind of ambiguous, and because of the fact that ferdinand also recognises the packaging and origin of the tea within a single moment of seeing it.) either hubert got EXTREMELY lucky, and picked one of ferdinand’s favourite imported teas from the many available, or he knows ferdinand well enough/has observed him closely enough that he simply knows. the former scenario is improbable, and both of the latter scenarios suggest a higher degree of interest in ferdinand.

next, ferdinand asks hubert who the tea is for, but he doesn’t tell him. instead, he asks ferdinand who he went out of his way to buy the coffee for.

and then, ferdinand looks away, blushing. he doesn’t say anything beyond a ‘well, i...’, as if he’s completely speechless. speechless, blushing, smiling, and unable to meet hubert’s eyes. all he’s doing is giving him a simple gift- ferdinand is shown to be a kind and compassionate soul, and i’m sure that generally, he has no trouble doing something as simple as this with many other people. however, giving hubert his coffee beans seems to be a somewhat embarrassing affair, but his smile suggests he’s also feeling very fond at the same time.

hubert presumably sees this blush, sees his smile and his eyes averted, and decides to tease him. he asks if it’s for someone that ferdinand fancies- fancies, as in, has a crush on. the fact that this is even brought up at all is fascinating, but make note of something else. the gender-neutral term, ‘someone’. in these types of scenes, the other person will often use ‘girl’ or ‘guy’, not a gender-neutral term like someone. of course, this could be a simple oversight, or even a translation error, seeing as the english localisation has been known to get the meaning of many scenes wrong. i just thought it was an interesting point to bring up, seeing that the english localisation also loves to make everything more heterosexual, and the fact that they didn’t change this line to ‘girls’ is very compelling.

anyway, here’s the fun thing. ferdinand doesn’t deny it, nor does he try to change the topic. he just forges right ahead, and plainly tells hubert that it’s for him. hubert is, naturally, surprised, seeing as he just hinted at the gift being for ferdinand’s crush.

after hubert confirms that, yes, it’s actually a gift meant for him and ferdinand isn’t just playing a prank, ferdinand blushes again. once again, doesn’t try to deny anything, nor change the topic away from what is a clear implication of a crush on hubert. just simply tells him to take the coffee beans.

when hubert confirms that he bought the tea with ferdinand in mind (see above screenshot, referenced earlier), he himself actually blushes. hubert von vestra, who never blushes on any other occasion (as far as i know) that isn’t teatime with byleth. not when bernadetta makes him a special embroidered flower to wear, not when petra says that she’s going to make him choose her over edelgard one day, not when he confesses his feelings for edelgard to edelgard, and not even when dorothea literally brings up a MARRIAGE between the two of them. nope, the simplest thing, ferdinand bringing him a gift and the implication of a crush, is enough to get him blushing.

after this, they laugh together! not hubert’s evil critical hit laugh, nor his torment-bernadetta laugh, nor his sarcastic little chuckle. a genuine, soft laugh- at the end, he lets out a little cough, as if he didn’t mean to laugh so genuinely at that moment. to end off the support, they decide to have a tea and coffee break, and make each other’s drinks.

whoo, that was a lot.

the implications in this are so damn HEAVY, even if there’s nothing actually concrete happening. the fact that this unnecessary A+ support exists, purchasing gifts for each other unbidden, blushing and smiling and generally acting awkward, the mention of a (gender-neutral) crush and the lack of denial, the implication that ferdinand has a crush on hubert- overall, it’s just undeniably gay.

tl;dr: the ferdibert A+ support is just. so damn gay. there’s no heterosexual explanation for this.

#that took FOREVER #'ve seriously been working on this for 2 hours #didn't help that all my progress got deleted once so i had to rewrite most of it #hope this made sense! i'm very tired #analysis #fe3h #feth #fe16 #fire emblem three houses #ferdibert #i think they have another ship name but i'm tired #ferdinand von aegir #hubert von vestra #black eagles #crimson flower #bernadetta von varley #petra macneary #edelgard von hresvelg #dorothea arnault

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mister-tom-a-dildo-lover · 7 years

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Strive Pt. 14

{PART 1} {PART 2} {PART 3} {PART 4} {PART 5} {PART 6} {PART 7} {PART 8} {PART 9} {PART 10} {PART 11} {PART 12} {PART 13}

Pair: Tomarry

Rating: M-E(depends)

Tags: Mild Language, Homosexuality, Sexism, Obsessed Tom, Time-Travel/Dimension-Travel, Teacher/Student, Eventual Romance, Teacher-Harry, Grey!Harry, MoD(sort of), Death!being,

NOTE: One of my many headcanons is that the Diary Horcrux was improperly made. Since the Basilisk was the one that killed Myrtle, as she doesn’t understand Parseltongue and can’t actually know what was said, there is no proof that Tom Riddle actually told the snake to kill her. He took credit for it and used it as a murder requirement for the Horcrux ritual, but there was no dialogue or order given to our knowledge.

So, Tom did the ritual without a fractured soul(because he didn’t personally murder Myrtle) and ended up ripping his soul in half which caused immense damage to his sanity. It would then explain why he went crazy so fast if the very first one was done incorrectly. And that’s the plot used in this fic.

Professor Potter sighed and removed his glasses, setting them on the desk and folding his fingers beneath his chin. He proceeded to stare Tom down evenly, green eyes flashing ominously. "Albus decided to inform me, 'for my protection' apparently, that you are a Parselmouth. He heavily implied that you are the Heir of Slytherin and that you are the cause for what happened a couple of years ago with the Chamber of Secrets."

Tom would never admit to stiffening. He liked to pretend that he was not worried or scared of what Professor Potter thought of him. He didn't care, even though he really did in a way. And it was so pathetic, that he, Tom Marvolo Riddle, would be so fixated on a single person's opinion of him. He didn't give a bleeding damn what Dumbledore thought, so why was Potter any different?

Because he treats you fairly, came a whispered voice in his mind. Because he doesn't single students out and actually treats everyone the same. Because he doesn't pity you. Because he is different than everyone else in your life.

"Just because Albus is right, doesn't mean there is proof against you, and trying to manipulate someone's view of you was foolish of him. I haven't let myself be tricked like that in a long time and I refuse to let it happen again. I can determine for myself what you are like, through my own experiences with you."

His left eye twitched only just a little bit. He kept a straight face though it was like his body was caught between the need to either frown or smile. Potter wanted to judge based on their interactions and not by Dumbledore's bias. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, sir." Admit nothing. That was usually the Slytherin mentality.

Potter shrugged, his unearthly green eyes flashing with hidden knowledge. "It's obvious that an Acromantula didn't kill Myrtle Warren. They consume their prey differently, and there was not one mark on the girl that came from a creature. Besides, anyone with a brain knows that only one creature can petrify its prey, and that is a Basilisk. Had she been lucky enough to look into it's 'great big yellow eyes' as she described to me, through another object like a mirror or a puddle, she wouldn't have died and would have just been frozen."

Professor Potter had actually spoken to Myrtle Warren's ghost. He asked her what had killed her and she described the Basilisk's eyes perfectly. A sinking feeling was settling in Tom's stomach. He didn't like how familiar he was becoming with it.

The professor leaned back in his seat and waved his hand twice. A dark book levitated off his bookshelf and opened for him, hovering in front of his almost disinterested face. His eyes roved over the page. "A Basilisk in the school wouldn't make sense normally, if one of the Founders wasn't a Parselmouth. However, each of the Founders placed a creature of their choosing to protect the school. Godric had a dragon that some fool in the 1200s killed for its hide, Rowena had a Sphinx that was sent back to Egypt in the 1600s, and Helga had a Phoenix that seems to have befriended Albus, and goes by the name of Fawkes.

"Anyway, only those of Slytherin's blood can control the Basilisk, as the book states. Which would mean you as you are a descendant of the line through the Gaunts."

Tom's eyes stared intently at the book that he did not know the name of. He had never see any book like it before, so he knew it wasn't from the Hogwarts Library. He never knew that any of the other Founders had creatures in the castle at some point. Perhaps it was a Potter Family artifact? And how had Potter known that he was related to the Gaunt Family? After all, Tom could have just been an unexpected relation that came from a splintered off line of Salazar's.

"Sir, where did you get that book? I've never seen such information in any books about Hogwarts and I made sure to extensively study the history of the school as well as our community." For my own gain, he neglected to add. It was obvious enough for him to not have to mention it.

Potter smiled, and the book slowly floated toward Tom, until he could literally pluck it out of the air. It was strangely soft, and the covering on it was unfamiliar to him. The size was larger than any tome he had ever encountered, and much heavier. Even the parchment was foreign to him. It was so… strangely brittle and solid all at once.

"My friend Mortimer helped me acquire that book. He had the knowledge of its existence and we went and fetched it from its old holding place. Normal magicals wouldn't even be able to read it however, because its author held knowledge of a specific language that is rare in this side of the world and is only connected to one family over here."

Tom turned the book over, opening up to the very first page. All of a sudden, the odd squiggles on the page righted themselves and the words SALAZAR SLYTHERIN stood out in large blocky calligraphy. His ancestor had written the book in his hands. He's written it in Parseltongue?

"Parselscript," clarified Potter, as if knowing exactly what Tom was thinking.

Parseltongue had a written form.

He frowned when he realised. "Professor, you speak Parseltongue as well?" Were they related? Was that why the man knew of his mother and knew that he was a Gaunt? Was he a cousin or something? He didn't look anything like Morfin did. And his surname was Potter.

Were they perhaps brothers and Tom's mother had a relationship with a Potter who then took Harry away? From what he'd learned of the Gaunts, they weren't a family anyone wanted to align themselves with. It would be social suicide, especially for a Potter who was of the Light side.

"Tom, what do you know of the Gaunt Family?" asked Professor Potter, sitting back in his chair as if this was not the most confusing and revealing conversation of Tom's life. "Do you know anything beyond you being Salazar's possible second to last descendant?"

'Possible'?

Knowing it was pointless to lie when he would get nothing from it in this situation, Tom shook his head. "There isn't much about the Gaunt Family beyond them squandering their former wealth and inbreeding too much just to keep themselves 'pure'." He sneered the last word, disgusted at the thought of performing any type of sexual acts with relatives. Especially with how their looks apparently degenerated overs the centuries. He couldn't understand the desire.

The Defence professor nodded and leaned forward until his elbows could rest on the desk. "In the 1600s, Rionach Gaunt broke off from the family and married William Sayre, who shared her ideals about being kind to Muggles."

Tom's upper lip rose in a sneer, but Potter ignored it.

"Their daughter Isolt, was a brilliant little witch, but ended up losing her parents to a fire. Her mother's estranged sister Gormlaith Gaunt 'found her' and 'raised her' with dubious teachings and under Dark Magic to force her compliance and isolation for years. Isolt eventually learned that Gormlaith murdered her parents and had kidnapped her, and came to resent her. She was refused any chance to attend Hogwarts, because Gormlaith didn't like it, and spun tales of why it was supposedly terrible. She decided to teach Isolt all the Dark Arts she knew instead."

Was everyone that Tom was related to, somehow a bloody moron? How could Hogwarts be horrible in any way? Sure, there were some fools here and there and Dumbledore surely tainted the air with his existence, but he would not be around always, and Tom had growing plans to make things follow his way of thinking in the future.

"Isolt learned enough magic by the time she was twelve, to successfully steal her aunt's wand and escape. She fled to England and disguised herself as a Muggle boy, who then sneaked onto the Mayflower that was headed for the New World. Long story short, she met the natives of the land, befriended some magical creatures, and ended up creating the first magical school in the states, which is called Ilvermorny."

Tom's jaw actually dropped. A descendent of Salazar Slytherin founded one of the other large magical schools in the world? And no one thought that the Founder of said school was evil or bent on world domination?

"If you want more information, I have a book that is a copy of her own bibliography. I had to go directly to Ilvermorny and be put through many tests to get it, but I do have it. It'll tell you more about Gormlaith and the Gaunts. You'll be interested to know that the wand that she stole from her aunt was once Salazar's wand. And in the end, she buried it in the ground within Ilvermorny, and it sprouted a large Snakewood tree that has magical properties that are said to heal anything if any part of it is consumed."

Isolt Sayre was a descendant of Salazar Slytherin. She never received a Hogwarts education and was only taught the Dark Arts. She went on to build the most powerful magical school in North America. And no one thought terribly of her? They didn't think she was a Dark Lady? And Salazar Slytherin, who was considered evil by most of Hogwarts for the past several centuries, had a wand that would basically be a Healer's dream come true?

"Isolt is recognised as a heroine in magical America, Tom. And her descendants are spread across the world due to traveling. I'm even distantly related to her through my mother, oddly enough. And through my father, I am distantly related to you because the Potters and Gaunts came from the same line, which are the Peverells, and many Gaunts married into the Potters way back when."

The Necromancer Three. Tom knew about them as much as anyone in Britain would. The family itself wasn't important until the three brothers supposedly created some of the most powerful magical artifacts in history. Then they drew enough attention to themselves and their craft. And they became history. Their rise and fall was described in many children's books.

Potter was nodding. "Cadmus, the middle brother, sired an unwanted daughter who changed her name when she fled his old village. She didn't want to be found and have the stain of her being a bastard following her everywhere. She became the first Gaunt, and settled down with a young and impressionable wizard from the Slytherin Line, who was angry for not being the first born and not getting the privileges of the first born. When the Slytherin Family died out a century later, the Gaunts were glad to let people know of their connection to Salazar."

"And which brother are you directly related to, professor?" asked Tom. Nothing ever said Antioch had sired children, but since he hadn't known Cadmus had any, how would he know?

"Ignotus, and even more distantly, Cadmus. Ignotus moved away from the bad reputations of his brothers and started his own family, passing down secrets and slowly changing the family name over the centuries. Peverell, Povrell, Povell, Potell, Pottel, Potter. Ironically, there are some Gaunts who married into my direct Potter branch and one of Isolt Sayer's children was my mother's some form of great-grandmother from the 1800s, which would explain the Parseltongue."

He had a distant relation who wasn't a bumbling fool. It was like a breath of fresh air in some ways, while in others, it made him a little annoyed. Why wait until now to say anything to Tom about it?

Also…

"How did you know my mother sold the Slytherin Locket?" He still couldn't understand that. That had not been explained yet. Potter had given answers to things he didn't even ask, but neglected to answer the one thing he wanted to know the most.

Potter sighed for the umpteenth time. "Mr. Borgin isn't very good at keeping secrets and it only took some persuasion when I inquired about it. Add on the fact that only one Marvolo ever attended Hogwarts, and it was Marvolo Gaunt, who had only one daughter and one son. Marvolo and Morfin had made a reputation in the magical papers as 'Possible Threats to the Statute of Secrecy' since both had been fined multiple times for casting magic on the Muggles in Little Hangleton. The daughter Merope, was the only one with a clean slate and according to the dwellers of said village, she disappeared around the time you were born, with a muggle aristocrat sharing your exact name. He returned months later, without her, and was screaming about witchcraft and love potions. It really wasn't hard to put together once everything was listed."

Tom's breathing calmed slowly. His professor had actually done some studying instead of being like Dumbledore and just accusing him of unfounded things. He researched and compiled all the evidence he had. And he wasn't treating Tom like a monster despite Tom basically admitting that yes, he was behind the Chamber fiasco.

He didn't come out and directly say it, but his questions and answers gave it away. And still Potter was being fair.

"Myrtle was a mistake," he found himself explaining, and wanting to be consumed by Fiendfyre on the spot. The look on Potter's face was of obvious surprise, but it didn't make him feel any better.

Tom bit his bottom lip for a second, before continuing. "Her death wasn't deliberate. I was simply trying to scare the students. No one actually got hurt or died, despite the bloody messages on the walls. Myrtle was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I was the one who found her and it was only because the Basilisk called out to me from the lavatory. I then had to skillfully redirect some students in hopes of them finding her instead, which one of them finally did. Said student was even Myrtle's frequent bully, so it only seemed right."

He didn't send the Basilisk to kill her. He hadn't even been there when the death occurred.

"I did find it strange how they actually carried her body off," said Professor Potter, a look of confusion on his face. "Basilisks consume their prey whole, unlike Acromantula who like to draw out their feasting time so the innards can deliquesce. There shouldn't have been a body, and if you had murdered her, you would have hidden the evidence so as not to have any leads that could trace back to you."

Exactly. Tom was much better at plotting. He'd killed Tom Riddle Sr. and his parents, with Morfin's wand. And he worked some incredible magic to implicate Morfin in the scenario. He would never leave such proof behind, no matter what.

But… just because Tom didn't order it specifically, didn't mean he wasn't partially responsible. After all, he had reworked the wards on the Chamber and the lavatory, which allowed the Basilisk to open the entrances and exits with its own Parseltongue. So the Basilisk came out for another chance to explore the castle under Tom's watch, only to literally kill a student the moment it slithered from the hole beneath the sinks.

As the serpent was under Tom's orders to make such rounds about the castle, he was to blame in a sense. And when he finally learned of the ritual required to make a Horcrux a week later, he used that as his 'murder' requirement to complete the ritual. And now Tom had two Horcruxes.

So yes, it was his fault in a way, but Myrtle would not have been his choice. He would have much preferred Eldrid Avery. Because what good would it do him to pick on the pathetic and weak? Myrtle had nothing when she was alive, but seeing Avery dead and unable to bother him any longer, would have been ideal. After all, Tom targeted those who wronged him in some way, and there was no satisfaction in proving how great he was over a trampled mouse.

Eldrid acted as if he was Merlin's gift to Slytherin, and Tom would have gladly put the other in his place. In fact, he was considering using him as his next Horcrux sacrifice.

While none too fond of Muggles nor how he'd been treated for everyone assuming he was a Muggleborn, he didn't care too much. Those unworthy to be in Hogwarts would have fled upon the opening of the Chamber, and since several had actually transferred out, the school was in fact free of their taint. And no, not all were Muggleborn. Tom simply hated those who worked against him. They were removed first and foremost.

"In conclusion to this hour long discussion," said Professor Potter as he glanced up at the clock on the wall, "let's put it all out there. You are the Heir of Slytherin. We both are Parselmouths thanks to Gaunt ancestry in our lines. We're both Halfbloods who are related to the Peverells. Your mother was named Merope and she was wandering about London on her own in December of 1925 and only got ten Galleons for the Slytherin Locket. You were born at Wools' Orphanage at the end of the month and grew up there. Albus was the one to visit you. Albus doesn't like you at all and is trying very hard to ruin your reputation among others. And it would behoove to refrain from using anything but Light magic in the coming weeks."

At Tom's frown, the man shrugged. "We're dealing with Albus Dumbledore, who has many awards already and a good portion of the Light people in his pocket, no matter what the papers say of his actions. He can and will convince someone to investigate you or me if he feels threatened. A proper diagnostic scan on a wand - that is taught to the Aurors - only shows the last one hundred castings. Practice the Patronus Charm a lot just to cover yourself even further."

And just as some of his questions had been answered, he was left with dozens more. How did his professor know about the training that Aurors went through? Was he formerly an Auror? And why was he so against Albus Dumbledore when half of Britain worshiped the man? Other than gossip, Dumbledore didn't come across as an annoying person upon first meeting, so what could have put Potter off to the man?

"You may borrow that book, though I would see it returned in the state it is currently in," said Potter, drawing his attention back to the present. Yes, the book that Tom was holding was still open. The book written by Salazar Slytherin.

Realising that this was the time for him to depart, Tom stood and closed the book gently. He then slipped it into his expanded bag and gave a small bow.

"Thank you, sir." An expression that was directed at more situations than just the book lending.

The green-eyed man waved his gratitude away. "It's only right that you learn about Salazar from his own writing. Take care of the locket. Perhaps you can get a portrait of yourself put in there."

Potter would not give him away. The man had already known everything and hadn't said a word to anybody. It was strangely comforting to know that. To know that there was an adult - and he used the term lightly since they were near each other in age - who was decent and could actually be trusted to be honest and relatively impartial.

He knew that Professor Potter would do his job, and that was good enough. And when he admitted to having a hand in Myrtle's death, the man hadn't glared at him. He didn't regard Tom with disgust. He simply accepted the answer for what it was and moved on.

It was nice… to have someone that didn't fear him. It was nice to not feel that telltale sign of nausea around someone. Potter was someone that treated him well, not because Tom threatened him into compliance, or because he wanted to get on Tom's good side. The man was just genuinely kind to everyone. Except perhaps Dumbledore, though the old fool deserved if it he kept trying to enforce his opinions and views on everyone he met.

It was halfway back to his dorm that Tom realised something else. Potter's Dueling Club was starting soon. He had to work on his Patronus even more if he wanted to impress the man and the class. A happy thought or memory strong enough to power such a spell.

He blinked for a moment, and in a moment of intense thought, he lifted his wand. "Expecto Patronum."

In the darkness of the dungeon corridor, Tom Marvolo Riddle was witness to the brightness of the very first corporeal Patronus he'd ever summon. It was a large, writhing serpent covered in odd markings. It reminded him very much of Professor Potter's Patronus, which shouldn't surprise him, since it was a thought of the man himself that had fueled the charm.

Tom smiled, enjoying the sight and the proof of his own ability. He felt a little giddy actually.

It was… nice.

A/N: I’m glad to see this chapter finished. 3500+words. Tom did the charm! Harry’s POV is coming in chapter 16, so be prepared.

#Tomarry #Tom Riddle #HP #fanfiction #Watermelonsmellinfellon

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svartikotturinn · 7 years

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(Reproducing my comment here in its entirety.)

I’ve looked through lots of Nazi Tumblogs for trolling material in my day: you can easily find them if you know what to look for: they don’t tag their posts ‘Nazi’ or ‘Nazism’ or whatever, it’s always stuff like ‘NatSoc’, ‘National Socialism’, ‘1488’, or (if they’re too cowardly to openly say what they subscribe to) ‘traditional/reactionary European’. I think my observations are good story material.

First of all, I’ve found quite a few interesting trends there.

First off, they lie like crazy. They claim that Dr. Albert Schweitzer wrote about how he became disillusioned with Africans and said they had the mentality of evil toddlers in African Notebook, that Richard Dawkins wrote about how progressivism not allowing free speech about how humans are naturally classified into races is ‘alarming’ in The Extended Phenotype, and that Taylor Swift has expressed white supremacist ideas, among others: the first two are easily proven false with a simple search on Google Books, the third is obviously false considering she’s good friends with Nicki Minaj. I’ve actually found a post on a Nazi blog that included a quote by Hitler saying, ‘The victor will never be asked if he told the truth.’

Aside from lying like crazy about easily disproven bullshit, they also tend to grossly misread things, either intentionally or because they’re that fucking stupid. One example I’ve seen is an article about a trans woman openly admitting to ‘indoctrinating’ children or whatever, which was posted with a ‘gotcha!’ comment that completely ignored that the article basically said something like ‘I teach kids to be respectful of those who are different, and if you call that indoctrination so be it’. Another article said that legitimizing pædophiles was ‘the next crusade of the left’, completely misunderstanding that the point was about looking at it as an affliction to be remedied rather than a crime in and of itself (as opposed to child molestation). And this is before relying on broken statistics and whatnot, like the time I argued with a Nazi who insisted that California if not the US in general had a non-white majority. Happens all the damn time.

Third thing I noticed was that a lot of their rhetoric had to do with women’s beauty and chastity. ‘NatSoc’ blogs are notoriously rife with pictures of pretty young white women in various states of dress (in traditional European garb) and undress (often with, like, a laurel on their heads or something) in fields and natural scenes and suchlike. (One time I found a blog filled ONLY with pictures like those and jokingly suggested to the admit that he should look into this one chick named Scarlett Johannson; he said, ‘Is this the part where I tell you Ashkenazi Jews are Aryans and you run off with your tail between your legs?’ Apparently, he really took the ‘Neo’ part of ‘Neo-Nazi’ to heart!) The notorious 14 Words (specifically ‘because the beauty of the White Aryan woman must not perish from the earth’) are also pretty commonly quoted, as well as horror stories of white women who were abused by Arabs and black men. You never hear about the reverse: extolling the beauty of white men and warning them against going with black women. The truth is, much like the Israeli organization Lehava (who keep talking about women as ‘daughters of kings’, warning against Arabs who seduce Jewish women into their villages and abusing them there), anti-white rhetoric about how white people ‘take [black people’s/Asians’] women’, and the Mongolian Tsagaan Khas (who talk about foreigners making lots of money and taking their women), they see women as some kind of resource they feel entitled to and are terrified of having taken away from them. (Cracked once had an article about a former Neo-Nazi named Frank Meeink who started associating with black inmates, because the Nazis kept talking about his girlfriend being unfaithful; the black inmates congratulated him when she was pregnant. I think that sums it up amazingly.)

Finally, I found out they were a lot more diverse than people give them credit for. Aside from the VERY ‘Neo’-Nazi mentioned above, they vary in terms of economic beliefs (unlike the KKK, who see Socialism as a foreign evil, they are more split on the issue), religious beliefs (i.e. badly interpreted Christianity, badly interpreted paganism, and badly interpreted purely secular ‘science’), and other issues. I’ve even come across a ‘feminist’ blog (NSFW) claiming patriarchy is a Jewish conspiracy, and I’m not entirely sure whether it’s for real or not, and another one saying Nazis and Muslims are natural allies that Jews have set against each other.

I’ve had the most interaction with two particular Nazis on Tumblr.

The first of the two was a Serbian woman. She was an admin on a general anti-SJ blog, which also featured a hardcore Christian who claimed Jews were ‘devil spawns’ or something based on (misquoted) New Testament quotes, an avid fanboy of Assad’s regime (his presence and their defence of Palestinians was justified because apparently ‘Arabs are Aryans’), and other idiots. I clashed with her a few times and talked about how her sense of superiority based on not being ‘a cumdumpster’ had nothing to do with actual respect and everything to do with succumbing to male standards. Then I accused the admins of that blog of subscribing to the ideology just as an excuse for violence; she said that she’d adopted it because of her experience with NATO’s aggression towards Serbia, their mishandling of the Trepča Mines (which she attributed to greed), and deep contempt towards George Soros for his involvement in all of it. I sympathized with her, and we began debating with far more civilized tones.

She talked about how SJ ideology has gone out of control (e.g. the dismay caused by a road named ‘Bangays Way’ named after a historian named Bangay), and how much of it was forced on her, and how she felt like she was being attacked simply because she espoused endogamy to preserve her culture. I agreed with her about the crazier bunch in the SJ crowd, talked about how she used really gross generalizations (apparently she thought Jews could agree on ANYTHING), pointed out some misinterpretations (e.g. that people protesting the road were less ‘THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE’ and more ‘this looks iffy, come on guys’), and pointed out the problems with defining what a culture is. After a short while she said she was sick and occupied so she couldn’t answer, and then she just deleted her blog. I wish she hadn’t, it was getting interesting.

The second one was the guy who posted that Hitler quote, who was also the same one claiming California had a non-white majority. I argued pretty fervently, with citations and everything, and he was apparently genuinely impressed. He sent me a personal message saying that was the first time he was not dismissed by an SJW for his ideology and was actually debated in earnest (albeit with lots of insults) and wanted to have a serious reasoned debate. I agreed, we chatted some, and he explained that he was an EMT who would treat non-white people just fine but still preferred a world where nations were divided into races and had fair fights in armed conflict over territory and wealth.

He wanted the divide to be based on race because, he claimed, races have serious genetic differences based on their evolution in different environments that made them incompatible in terms of living side by side. I asked him for citations (and also my close friend, who is working on his PhD in biochemistry), and he kept stalling on and on (at first it was because he was out celebrating his birthday, then basically just because), and then we stopped talking. (Meanwhile my friend found citations saying that it was overwhelmingly bullshit, and in fact he found an article showing Yoruba people lack a mutation found in white and Asian people that caused aggressive behaviour.)

Eventually I tagged him in a post asking him if he agreed with the harassment Jews in Whitefish, MT over rumours that they were harassing his mother. Eventually we ended up in an argument where he said it was only natural for people to lie and have double standards when it comes to theirs and an opposing view, and that he wanted me to drop dead. I strongly rejected that notion and pointed out how I’ve criticized leftist over and over for their lies; he conceded I was morally superior but he didn’t think that mattered.

In private I expressed my disappointment with him. I told him I’d thought better of him and his interest in having a serious debate; he responded, ‘The Jew cries out in pain as he strikes you.’ The nerve of a guy using ‘Kozak hanigzel’ on a Hebrew speaker from Israel… Man was that disappointing. I blocked him.

At any rate, I blocked him. A day or two later, when I wanted to see if he was swamped with anons for this and getting lots of shit for basically admitting his ideology was indefensible, but his blog was already deleted. I want to believe he realized this himself, that he needed to do some real thinking if a ‘degenerate’ like me proved his moral superior, but I can never know.

These two interactions and some others have led me to wonder if sincere Nazis, who are actually good but horribly misguided people, were mostly women. I wonder.

Ultimately, I feel really sorry for Nazis of the latter kind, and the alt-right crowd in general. From what I’ve seen, they’re really miserable people: they think of love and sex in terms of conquest and keeping what they got (hence the constant talk about ‘cucks’, who are too ineffectual to keep their ‘property’ theirs), not actual human connection. They’re so obsessed with power and maintaining and demonstrating it that they seem to have no concept of genuine compassion: they write it all off as ‘virtue signalling’, i.e. pretending to be virtuous for the sake of some kind of social capital. They’re so bitter they’ve become obsessed with spite, talking so much about ‘liberal tears’ they barely argue their own position. There’s such a deep sense of fear and loneliness and resentment there, and when they don’t scare me, I feel really sad for them.

On the other hand, I’d like to say a few words about anti-Nazis:

The attack on Richard Spencer triggered a whole lot of posts on Tumblr about how punching Nazis is not only justified but morally mandatory (because Nazis could never reform, you see, and were necessarily evil), which I strongly objected to on the grounds that Nazis were a diverse group, with many motivations and backgrounds, and responding to them with violence could be counterproductive in many cases (I cited Lamb & Lynx Gaede, the aforementioned Meeink, and all the KKK members Daryl Davis has dissuaded: all of them converted by peaceful means). I’ve seen people shamelessly call me a ‘Nazi sympathizer’ by some people on that website, and at one point I wanted to take legal action, considering the kind of harassment that accusation could lead to.

The same kind of belligerent attitude is found in the far left as well. Those ‘beat the Fascists where you find them’ anti-Nazis seem to be far more preoccupied with letting out aggression against rivals than actually dismantling their threatening ideology. They’re only marginally better, and also suffer from similar ills (e.g. incessant lying) and some others (e.g. scouting for perceived ideological rivals to unleash aggression on). This is why I’ve pretty much left Tumblr altogether.

#NatSoc #National Socialists #National Socialism #Nazis #Nazism #alt-right #alt-left #Cracked #Tumblr

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[A grand debate at the general assembly of the HOUYHNHNMS, and how it was determined. The learning of the HOUYHNHNMS. Their buildings. Their manner of burials. The defectiveness of their language.] One of these grand assemblies was held in my time, about three months before my departure, whither my master went as the representative of our district. In this council was resumed their old debate, and indeed the only debate that ever happened in their country; whereof my master, after his return, give me a very particular account. The question to be debated was, "whether the YAHOOS should be exterminated from the face of the earth?" One of the members for the affirmative offered several arguments of great strength and weight, alleging, "that as the YAHOOS were the most filthy, noisome, and deformed animals which nature ever produced, so they were the most restive and indocible, mischievous and malicious; they would privately suck the teats of the HOUYHNHNMS' cows, kill and devour their cats, trample down their oats and grass, if they were not continually watched, and commit a thousand other extravagancies." He took notice of a general tradition, "that YAHOOS had not been always in their country; but that many ages ago, two of these brutes appeared together upon a mountain; whether produced by the heat of the sun upon corrupted mud and slime, or from the ooze and froth of the sea, was never known; that these YAHOOS engendered, and their brood, in a short time, grew so numerous as to overrun and infest the whole nation; that the HOUYHNHNMS, to get rid of this evil, made a general hunting, and at last enclosed the whole herd; and destroying the elder, every HOUYHNHNM kept two young ones in a kennel, and brought them to such a degree of tameness, as an animal, so savage by nature, can be capable of acquiring, using them for draught and carriage; that there seemed to be much truth in this tradition, and that those creatures could not be YINHNIAMSHY (or ABORIGINES of the land), because of the violent hatred the HOUYHNHNMS, as well as all other animals, bore them, which, although their evil disposition sufficiently deserved, could never have arrived at so high a degree if they had been ABORIGINES, or else they would have long since been rooted out; that the inhabitants, taking a fancy to use the service of the YAHOOS, had, very imprudently, neglected to cultivate the breed of asses, which are a comely animal, easily kept, more tame and orderly, without any offensive smell, strong enough for labour, although they yield to the other in agility of body, and if their braying be no agreeable sound, it is far preferable to the horrible howlings of the YAHOOS." Several others declared their sentiments to the same purpose, when my master proposed an expedient to the assembly, whereof he had indeed borrowed the hint from me. "He approved of the tradition mentioned by the honourable member who spoke before, and affirmed, that the two YAHOOS said to be seen first among them, had been driven thither over the sea; that coming to land, and being forsaken by their companions, they retired to the mountains, and degenerating by degrees, became in process of time much more savage than those of their own species in the country whence these two originals came. The reason of this assertion was, that he had now in his possession a certain wonderful YAHOO (meaning myself) which most of them had heard of, and many of them had seen. He then related to them how he first found me; that my body was all covered with an artificial composure of the skins and hairs of other animals; that I spoke in a language of my own, and had thoroughly learned theirs; that I had related to him the accidents which brought me thither; that when he saw me without my covering, I was an exact YAHOO in every part, only of a whiter colour, less hairy, and with shorter claws. He added, how I had endeavoured to persuade him, that in my own and other countries, the YAHOOS acted as the governing, rational animal, and held the HOUYHNHNMS in servitude; that he observed in me all the qualities of a YAHOO, only a little more civilized by some tincture of reason, which, however, was in a degree as far inferior to the HOUYHNHNM race, as the YAHOOS of their country were to me; that, among other things, I mentioned a custom we had of castrating HOUYHNHNMS when they were young, in order to render them tame; that the operation was easy and safe; that it was no shame to learn wisdom from brutes, as industry is taught by the ant, and building by the swallow (for so I translate the word LYHANNH, although it be a much larger fowl); that this invention might be practised upon the younger YAHOOS here, which besides rendering them tractable and fitter for use, would in an age put an end to the whole species, without destroying life; that in the mean time the HOUYHNHNMS should be exhorted to cultivate the breed of asses, which, as they are in all respects more valuable brutes, so they have this advantage, to be fit for service at five years old, which the others are not till twelve." This was all my master thought fit to tell me, at that time, of what passed in the grand council. But he was pleased to conceal one particular, which related personally to myself, whereof I soon felt the unhappy effect, as the reader will know in its proper place, and whence I date all the succeeding misfortunes of my life. The HOUYHNHNMS have no letters, and consequently their knowledge is all traditional. But there happening few events of any moment among a people so well united, naturally disposed to every virtue, wholly governed by reason, and cut off from all commerce with other nations, the historical part is easily preserved without burdening their memories. I have already observed that they are subject to no diseases, and therefore can have no need of physicians. However, they have excellent medicines, composed of herbs, to cure accidental bruises and cuts in the pastern or frog of the foot, by sharp stones, as well as other maims and hurts in the several parts of the body. They calculate the year by the revolution of the sun and moon, but use no subdivisions into weeks. They are well enough acquainted with the motions of those two luminaries, and understand the nature of eclipses; and this is the utmost progress of their astronomy. In poetry, they must be allowed to excel all other mortals; wherein the justness of their similes, and the minuteness as well as exactness of their descriptions, are indeed inimitable. Their verses abound very much in both of these, and usually contain either some exalted notions of friendship and benevolence or the praises of those who were victors in races and other bodily exercises. Their buildings, although very rude and simple, are not inconvenient, but well contrived to defend them from all injuries of and heat. They have a kind of tree, which at forty years old loosens in the root, and falls with the first storm: it grows very straight, and being pointed like stakes with a sharp stone (for the HOUYHNHNMS know not the use of iron), they stick them erect in the ground, about ten inches asunder, and then weave in oat straw, or sometimes wattles, between them. The roof is made after the same manner, and so are the doors. The HOUYHNHNMS use the hollow part, between the pastern and the hoof of their fore-foot, as we do our hands, and this with greater dexterity than I could at first imagine. I have seen a white mare of our family thread a needle (which I lent her on purpose) with that joint. They milk their cows, reap their oats, and do all the work which requires hands, in the same manner. They have a kind of hard flints, which, by grinding against other stones, they form into instruments, that serve instead of wedges, axes, and hammers. With tools made of these flints, they likewise cut their hay, and reap their oats, which there grow naturally in several fields; the YAHOOS draw home the sheaves in carriages, and the servants tread them in certain covered huts to get out the grain, which is kept in stores. They make a rude kind of earthen and wooden vessels, and bake the former in the sun. If they can avoid casualties, they die only of old age, and are buried in the obscurest places that can be found, their friends and relations expressing neither joy nor grief at their departure; nor does the dying person discover the least regret that he is leaving the world, any more than if he were upon returning home from a visit to one of his neighbours. I remember my master having once made an appointment with a friend and his family to come to his house, upon some affair of importance: on the day fixed, the mistress and her two children came very late; she made two excuses, first for her husband, who, as she said, happened that very morning to SHNUWNH. The word is strongly expressive in their language, but not easily rendered into English; it signifies, "to retire to his first mother." Her excuse for not coming sooner, was, that her husband dying late in the morning, she was a good while consulting her servants about a convenient place where his body should be laid; and I observed, she behaved herself at our house as cheerfully as the rest. She died about three months after. They live generally to seventy, or seventy-five years, very seldom to fourscore. Some weeks before their death, they feel a gradual decay; but without pain. During this time they are much visited by their friends, because they cannot go abroad with their usual ease and satisfaction. However, about ten days before their death, which they seldom fail in computing, they return the visits that have been made them by those who are nearest in the neighbourhood, being carried in a convenient sledge drawn by YAHOOS; which vehicle they use, not only upon this occasion, but when they grow old, upon long journeys, or when they are lamed by any accident: and therefore when the dying HOUYHNHNMS return those visits, they take a solemn leave of their friends, as if they were going to some remote part of the country, where they designed to pass the rest of their lives. I know not whether it may be worth observing, that the HOUYHNHNMS have no word in their language to express any thing that is evil, except what they borrow from the deformities or ill qualities of the YAHOOS. Thus they denote the folly of a servant, an omission of a child, a stone that cuts their feet, a continuance of foul or unseasonable weather, and the like, by adding to each the epithet of YAHOO. For instance, HHNM YAHOO; WHNAHOLM YAHOO, YNLHMNDWIHLMA YAHOO, and an ill-contrived house YNHOLMHNMROHLNW YAHOO. I could, with great pleasure, enlarge further upon the manners and virtues of this excellent people; but intending in a short time to publish a volume by itself, expressly upon that subject, I refer the reader thither; and, in the mean time, proceed to relate my own sad catastrophe.

#GulliversTravels

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