#HOW IS HAVING PEOPLE NOT TRAINED OR QUALIFIED TO WORK WITH KIDS WORKING WITH KIDS LEGAL?!?!?!?

[spotaus]

New Age AU (An Order to Things)

Hello hello and welcome back! I... write the first part of this like a month ago and then came back and wrote the rest over the past few days! Ancha and I were talking about getting some perspective on the rest of the Castle while Night is still adjusting to his new body, so here we are! A little mash-up of what the Knights have been doing on a regular day only a little while in to Night being small!

no edits, no rereads, fuck it we ball!

(@ancha-aus @mutzelputz and @papiliovolens hello again! Hope you don't mind the random @ and as always if it gets annoying just lemee know and I'll cease hehe!)

Oh, and a bonus shout-out to Ancha because I would've completely fumbled an entire section here, but she recalled something from one of my many strange rambles and saved my life in the lore continuity department :]

“Is everyone here?” Dust’s voice was steady and cut through the chatter of the room.

Horror watched as heads turned to face Dust, where he stood at the ‘front’ of the room. The room was actually curved, a nice oval that allowed a long, round, bar-like table to curve along the outskirts and sit up to fifty people along its run. Across from where Dust was standing was the door. Where Dust stood now, well, that was usually where the King sat. They had shifted the ornate seat back and away for the time being, since no one thought it’d be right for Dust to sit in it. Even if he was filling in for Nightmare today. 

Those seated, they were Nightmare’s council. Some seats had been barren since before Horror had arrived, a lot had been filled since then, Killer had told them that the population had seen a steep decline after he showed up. From what Horror had heard, it was probably for the best that it had been rebuilt almost from scratch. The council now was made up largely of common people. Monsters and Humans, each a representative from their own cities and townships who had both been chosen by their people and screened by the King himself. They weren’t proper or well-spoken sometimes, but they always seemed to have their people’s best interests at heart, so he figured the king didn’t mind it much. Actually, maybe their informal habits made them all the more appealing to him? Horror could never quite tell. Besides, he usually wasn’t present for these unless the farming representatives were present, and today they seemed woefully absent. Normally it would be Killer or Dust here where he was standing near the King’s seat. But, Killer was helping watch over the King while Ccino caught up on his own work, Cross was scheduled for training right now, and Dust was the one talking, so here he was. 

“Good.” Dust spoke up again, very shortly, as the group quieted. 

Horror noticed Dust had a booklet open on the table before him. Horror recognized the handwriting in the pages, even if he couldn’t read any of the words from such a distance. Those dizzying swirls were the familiar penmanship of their King. King Nightmare must have sent Dust with instructions, or maybe a list of topics to address. 

“Our King will not join us today. I am here on his behalf. Trust me, news will return to him.” Dust explained briefly, and neither of them missed the way a few of the council looked between each other. Nightmare had been out of the public eye for almost a week and a half now. “Any questions?”

Dust’s eyelights traveled to his left, where a hand was raised barely into the air. A human sat there, Horror didn’t recognize them, but it seemed like Dust did. He gestured shortly to him and said, “Damien?” As a prompt to get the man speaking.

As Horror had learned, it was customary to stand when you spoke at these events. Everyone, aside from the King, had a cushioned stool which tended to be easier to raise out of and sit on again. The human, Damien, slipped backward off his stool and rose maybe an inch higher than he had been sitting. 

“Sir Panther,” He addressed Dust with a slightly nervous voice, “We in the council are grateful for your presence and for listening to our pleas, but some of us present feel that the timing of our King’s absence poses a danger to some of our peoples.” 

Damien shoved a strand of dark hair out of his eyes, tucking it behind his ear as he continued with a surprising amount of confidence for someone who seemed to be questioning their king. “While we trust his decisions, we find that our people are growing restless and weary without plans in place to rebuild our shelters. The last flood which passed through was not four days ago, and the letter arrived today more frantic than the last. Is there any hope that we may soon be graced by the King’s presence once again?” He watched Dust’s reaction as he still stood.

Dust, though, had a pokerface of steel. As long as Horror had known him he was always a closed book. Or, maybe more like he had a bottle, but broke the top of the cork off inside the opening, so nothing ever made it out. That was Dust. Horror couldn’t even blame him, with all he was dealing with it was impressive how neutral he could remain. Horror had no doubt this Damien man had no idea what it was Dust was thinking at the moment. Was he happy? Upset? 

Before Dust could answer, another hand shot up, followed by a scrambling sound as this other figure, this one to the right, moved faster. This time, it was a monster Horror recognized vaguely, if only because he believed this was one of the few noble lines who got to stay after the ‘spring cleaning’ as Killer called it once. She was a bee monster, one who lived in the capital, but her family resided over some borderland city. She was younger and a lot quicker to speak.

“Mister Damien is underselling how dangerous the floods have become again, Sir Panther!” She hurriedly said. Across the room, Damien seemed to pale under the loud and shrill voice of this noble girl. Dust nodded to her, prompting a continuation of an explanation. “The floods rolled through my town too, though we had time to prepare thanks to their warnings so the damage was less severe. It sounds like, though, many houses were completely swept away, and among them were Mister Damien’s family home. He has two daughters, you know that? They ended up in my town when the water swept them there. That’s how I know.”

She seemed startled when Damien seemed to slump over his stool a bit, planting his hand on the seat as he looked to her. 

“My little girls? They’re alright?” He asked out of turn, his voice different. A bit weaker. 

The noble girl, was her name Marie? She nearly jumped forward as though she were going to close the gap across the room, her wings buzzing at her back. “Yes! Yes, they’re alright! My mother spotted them in our river and was able to scoop them up.” She replied almost excitedly, entirely blind to the sickly relief on Damien’s face. “Mother said they were very smart girls, they had a hold of a piece of wood and used it to float!” 

The two seemed to silently revel in the news, Marie proud to have shared it, and Damien grateful to have heard it. Neither of them was taking in the looks of worry permeating their fellow councilmen, though those nearest to Damien did extend hands of support to his shoulders. Comfort. 

“Mm. Good your family is safe.” Dust said, once again reminding the council of his presence. It had so quickly been forgotten in the exchange of information and startling news. 

Damien seemed to jolt at that, and he quickly made a bow towards Dust with a quiet, ‘Thank you, my Knight. Sorry, my Knight.’ escaping his chest in quick succession. 

“Glad you brought that up. The King isn’t sure when he’ll be back here.” He paused a second, “Sent me with a list of announcements. One was for your cities, got word same time as you.” Dust raised the little booklet off the table before him then. The leather cover, though Horror couldn’t see it he knew what it looked like, had the kingdom’s crest pressed into its surface. Dust didn’t glance at the pages, though. Just showed it off for a few breaths. “Said he’s sending out a contracting team. Capital’s best. They’ll be headed out and nightfall to Peechrey first. Build some drainage. Then rebuild the buildings. Move onto Pinoc after or split sooner, depending on resources. Time.” He debriefed. 

Damien and Marie were still standing, their discussion was seemingly not over. Questions unanswered. 

“I- I am grateful that our King has already prepared, it was foolish of me to assume, yet…” He took a breath, maybe trying to put together a thought. “Drainage? Should the repairs not occur first? What of those with no home?” 

Valid question. If Horror were in this guy’s shoes, he’d probably be asking the same exact things. Dust seemed unbothered by the extra questioning and simply nodded along.

“Would, but it’s flood season. King said drainage first so repairs’ll stay sturdy. Just one fix instead of twenty.” Dust explained with a little shrug. “Those without houses? Take them in. Neighbors help neighbors, till we fix the big issues. Least we can ask.” The way Dust said it wasn’t forceful, or mean-spirited, yet it seemed to make Damien stand down. 

“I… Understand, my Knight.” He said briefly. 

It seemed he was about to sit when a hand raised from beside Marie. A human woman, one which Horror did fully recognize. Chase. She was one of the people who Crop had introduced him to during the call-outs for farmers willing to experiment with farming methods. That had been Horror’s first big project at the King’s side, and it had been going well so far. Slow, but well. 

“My Knight, if I may offer.” She received a nod of approval from Dust. “My village is small, an’ about an hour’s ride by horse to yours, but my people live on a plateau and would be more than willing to house any of yours who might need a place to stay for a time. We’d just ask for an extra hand with the harvest when time comes around.” She suggested, looking to Damien for an answer.

Damien looked right back at her for a few breaths, a little stunned. Horror had found, unlike many of these people, that the farmers who he and Crop had managed to gather for the experimental farming? They were good people from tight-knit communities. Visiting their small villages and farms reminded him much of home each time. Keeping crops and animals requires a lot of fortitude, wit, and compassion. More than anyone gave them credit for, usually. In moments of crisis, if he couldn’t be here with his family, he would choose a farming village over all else. …It seemed like Chase was living up to the high praise Horror hadn’t even realize he’d assigned to her years ago. 

“A-are you certain that is all you would ask in return? I fear that Miss Marie was correct in stating that the damages are far worse than I first described. We have at least fifty, perhaps more, who would be needing shelter and resources. We cannot push that upon your people for only a favor of labor.” Damien seemed like he was taking the cautious route. 

Horror couldn’t necessarily blame him, he wouldn’t want to be the reason his town was indebted either. Though, he did have half a mind to defend his colleague. She wouldn’t offer something like that if she and her folks couldn’t handle it. 

“ ‘Course that’s all I’d ask! We got plenty of space, as long as a few of your folks wouldn’t mind taking turns in the lofts. Plus the food shouldn’t be an issue. We mostly export the extra we don’t need to other towns for trade, but there should be enough surplus to feed that many extra mouths.” Chase belted those words with a pride that Horror had seen on many of the farmers lately. Her chest puffed a bit as she placed her hands on her hips. “Plus, don’t hurt that we’ve got the Knights here listenin’ to us make the deal. If I tried anything tricky with it I know Sir Lion over there wouldn’t let me weasel my way out of it!” 

Chase nodded her head in Horror’s direction. He didn’t expect for any eyes to turn to him during this meeting beyond the nervous glances every once in a while. He figured it must’ve been shocking to see him here the first time, and it probably hadn’t gotten much easier for them since. He found himself, regrettably, making direct eye-contact with Damien. The man looked frazzled still. Like he was regretting bringing up the topic at all. 

“Mm. She’s right.” He agreed, hoping it sounded half as light-hearted as he’d meant as it echoed from under his mask. “It’s… also a fair trade. Harvest season gets…” He lifted a hand a bit, searching for the words he was looking for. “Busy. Messy, when there are too many fields to harvest and not… not enough skilled hands to pick. Risk losing a lot of crop to…” Again he paused, but for a shorter span. “Over-ripening. Or drying out. Been trying to find a good way to gather it all for a few seasons now, right?” Horror finally broke his stare with Damien to glance over to Chase. 

She seemed to be beaming from over where she stood. She ran a hand through her short-cropped black hair with a slight laugh. 

“Exactly, My Knight! So, not entirely an unselfish offer, but we scratch your back, you scratch ours! It’d do us a big favor seein’ if getting more hands to help would really gather it all or if we’re gonna need to downscale.” She went between the two, though after looking to Horror again, she seemed to realize that the both of them had gone off-topic from the point of the question. The farming meeting was set for about a month from now, this was the civilian-based meeting. They could save shop talk for then. 

In her resounding silence, eyes all turned. Not to Damien, but to Dust. Normally it’d be Nightmare making this choice, of course, but instead? Today it was him. 

He seemed to look at the parties in question. He was calm. At some point he’d opened the little journal, but kept it flat on the desk away from any prying eyes of the council. He seemed to consult it shortly, and the room’s silence spanned on for nearly a minute as he seemed to debate silently with his thoughts. 

Then.

“Since the offer is made, it falls in guidelines for aide. The King trusts all of the council, but Chase still needs to draft a contract.” He finally announced. “Movement can begin if Damien agrees. Sign the paper later. After the King looks it over.” He said with hardly a moment more of hesitation.

Damien’s mouth was agape for a moment, before he nodded. 

“I- Yes. Thank you My Knight, Miss Chase, Miss Marie. I will agree to your offer to aide, and we will discuss the specifics after the meeting adjourns.” He finally decided.

Chase seemed thrilled. The woman was surely happy to have a whole new town’s-worth of new able-bodied souls to help her manage her crops, even if it was just for the harvest for one season. Horror and her both knew that this would put her ahead of schedule from the other farms by a bit. More progress did mean more attention from him and Crop, more notoriety for their village, and more trade incoming and outgoing. Plus, Chase was the kind of woman who insisted a little bit of manual labor was healthy for the soul. She was already getting her hands on that parchment used by all the council members to plead their cases to be reviewed by the King. 

When all was quieted and both Damien and Marie also seemed to have begin writing, though theirs were on regular paper (letters maybe?), Dust allowed a moment of quiet before he reintroduced their topic for the day. And… was immediately interrupted by another raised hand from a new corner of the meeting room.

.

“How… do you do it?” Horror asked quietly, lifting his axe from the sling along his back. 

Dust glanced at him. Horror could tell, the tilt of his chin meant he wasn’t following.

“I mean. Talk in front of all those people. Think of good answers to their questions so quick. You’re so calm.” He clarified. 

“Mm.” Was all Dust said for a second. 

They’d been out of the council meeting for a few hours now. Dust had rushed off post-meeting to see Nightmare. As much as they all knew Dust was the king of paperwork, especially contracts, Nightmare had made him promise to let him at least read over each one so his stamp was proper. (They all knew that meant he’d take the fall if anything went wrong for either party, too.) So, despite their King being so tired and busy with his whole… being a teenager thing? He was still triple-checking legal documents in his study. 

When that was finished Dust had gone off to check the stables and now he was back inside. In the training room, to be more specific. He’d been trying to make sure his magic was under control. His storm. Horror figured he was nervous, with Nightmare being so young now. They all needed to be on their toes. Horror had wanted to come with him, because he needed to sharpen and polish his axe. And ask him that question.

“Black Market boss.” He replied evenly, tugging his hood over his head a bit farther than it usually sat. 

Of course Horror knew about that. It had been very obvious when he’d first showed up. Back then, Dust was still wandering around in his shackles and being used as a walking map to find every black market location. Sure, he figured that the stress of a job like that, plus the paperwork involved, had to have prepared him for something like this, but… Horror was the last one to forget that past of his. He meant something else. 

“Didn’t mean that.” He said with a little huff. “Meant. Like. You think how the King would. I could… make choices that I liked. But. Not the same way Nightmare would. You know? You think of everything.” He elaborated a bit more.

Dust stood beside him as he plopped down onto one of the benches to the side of the training room. Dust would need all the floor space to practice his spells, and sharpening and cleaning his monster of an axe didn’t need much space at all. 

“Same morals?” He replied deadpan with a shrug. 

Dust was already moving out onto the big open floor to begin his summons, but he clearly heard it as Horror let out a laugh, because his steps got a bit lighter.

“You ass! I saw you send me a look about the Cherris rep. You wouldn’t have… said yes to her on your own.” He accused, almost playfully. He liked when his small friend set his shoulders. It meant he was trying not to laugh about something. Dust didn’t turn towards him.

“She asked for… a lot. Already gets a lot of support.” He replied shortly. 

Quickly after his words, Horror was graced with the vision of Dust’s magic igniting across the room. 

It was always in bright flashes. Sometimes manifesting as crooked, broken, brittle bone attacks with an electric taste in the air and a scorch mark left on the floor. Others, it showed up like a streak of lightning arching quickly from Dust’s fingertips or from the sky to strike wildly in any direction. It always had this deadly purple hue to it, and his one eyelight always flashed with vibrant colors just for a spilt second before it would fade back to that pale white/greyish color he sported normally. 

Dust didn’t like to talk when he was fighting or training, unless it was Killer. It seemed that would be his answer for now, which didn’t really help his curiosity in the slightest. It almost made him wonder more, but lucky for the both of them, he wasn’t a very pushy person. If Dust didn’t want to talk about it, there would be no talking. 

So, Horror took this time, with the ambient zapping noises of his fellow Knight’s magic as his soundtrack, to properly care for his axe. It was a nice, calming, repetitive task that helped chase away building headaches and distract him from worrisome thoughts. It was times like these when he could really take a moment to think about things he hasn’t in a while. Like, for instance, his family back home. 

Almost two weeks ago, only days before the King’s reverse-ascension, he’d gotten a letter from his mother. It was written in their foreign tongue, the only writing all the family could recognize and the only language which most of them spoke. It had detailed how his brother was doing well, managing their own experimental patches well and how his studies to learn more of Orchan, the dialect spoken by the people here, had been going by quickly. He was already planning to send a letter to him apparently. Though, his mother had insisted he not mention that when they meet again because it was meant to be a surprise. It also sounded like their old farm dog had finally had her last litter of puppies. They were going to move her into someone’s house and off the fields soon, once this batch of pups grew old enough to protect the livestock on their own. Horror knew how much that old dog deserved a nice retirement treat. Warm bed and shoes to chew on when she’d get bored. 

He ran a cloth along the broadside of the axe blade, away from the sharp bits for now. He liked getting the side shiny enough that he could spot a silhouette, but not enough that he could see his own reflection. 

…Honestly, he wanted to visit his family. He wanted to visit his family with the King in tow, though. The plan had been to ask him about another visit soon, because his entire village adored the King just like he did. His mother once swooned to him about how ‘awkward and kind’ the King was when he sat with everyone at dinner. His dad liked the way Nightmare tried to hold back his joy at the taste of their home-cooked meal they’d served to him. The King’s poker face had hardly broken for a moment, but the curling of those tendrils of his had been hard to miss. 

He just thought it’d be nice to bring Nightmare along. Plus, then, his family would be much less likely to try and baby him. He’d be on the clock as a guard, even if the King wouldn’t say so. 

It would have to happen another time, though. Maybe he’d invite Crop instead. Have him examine ground zero for this entire project of theirs? That’d be nice, it’d keep his family occupied by talking technicalities with Crop… but then Horror wouldn’t get nearly enough time with Crop all to himself… Maybe-

“Worried for him.” 

Dust’s voice snapped Horror out of his thoughts with a jolt. 

Dust stared at him, only a little apologetic at giving his large friend a heart-attack. He was stood right past Horror’s axe. He must’ve stopped polishing a while ago. Dust looked like he’d worked up a sweat, the room felt at least 10 degrees warmer, and the floor and some walls had distinct scorch marks all along the stone in various locations. How long ago had Dust stopped training? He hadn’t even heard the zapping end, so lost in his own head. 

“What?” Horror asked, confused now. 

Dust frowned slightly, though he tugged his mask back over his mouth. 

“Been learning his process for years. Only doing it now because I’m worried.” He said. 

He moved to sit beside Horror on the bench, and Horror twisted to look at him. Waiting for any more insight into Dust’s thought process. 

“He looks tired. Can see the bags under his eyes. Missing words too. Trouble focusing, looks confused sometimes.” He explained. “Don’t think he’s dumb, real genius kid. Just… the whole “13 year old brain” is getting to him. Don’t think he’s sleeping much either. It’s a lot.” 

Dust looked a little pained to be saying it outloud. Horror knew he was just speaking his mind. Trying to find a good way to say that he was rightfully worried for the King’s wellbeing. 

Ever since the incident, Horror hadn’t been around the King much. Not by choice of course, every bone in his body wished he could just wrap his young employer up in his arms and make him go out to the courtyard to play catch, just like he used to do with his older cousins as a kid. It just… it just made sense for him to remain vigilant and focused. Ccino and Killer and Dust seemed to have things covered with the King’s personal interactions. Horror and Cross had just been tasked with keeping face and continuing training best they could. Nightmare hadn’t even been coming to supervise trainings. So, Horror could barely say anything to Dust’s description.

The only thing Horror knew was that Dust wasn’t one to worry unneededly. Like, when he and the King returned with that Mage. Error? He’d seemed worried about the kid, but after a few days he relaxed again, because it was safe and that kid seemed genuinely happy. If Dust thought something was up with the King, Horror would believe him without doubt.

“Mm. Good thing. You learned, I mean.” Horror replied carefully. “Probably a lot like…” Hmm, maybe he didn’t want to say that out loud. Would that be rude?

A beat of silence passed between them.

“Yeah.” Dust just said quietly. 

Of course Dust knew what he was about to say. Comparing the King’s rewind to his own skull injury. Granted, his happened when he was a kid, but even now it made things harder. Harder to think, to remember, to see, to process things. He’s had time to get used to it though. Nightmare was just hit by similar issues so suddenly, and no physical wound to soothe either. Their king was smart and prepared. Horror could bet he didn’t want to lose that feeling. To lose… everything he’d been doing here. Just like that. 

“Don’t want to, though.” Dust’s voice was still quiet and even. 

Horror tilted his head at him curiously. 

“Talk. In front of others.” He clarified with a shrug. “Was nice being a Knight. Quiet before. …But I want to help. King’s too young to act alone.” 

Dust sighed after those words. 

They all could have said the same things about themselves in the past. Horror remembers the first time Dust discussed his early days out on the streets. He was too young to put himself into those situations. Then again, Killer had been too young for any of the shit he was put through. Same with what he heard from Cross. Even he shouldn’t have really been the sole communicator for his entire family in his youth. There had been a few close encounters in those early years thanks to angry customers. 

There was no time to really think back on it, though. In the moment now, Dust was right. The King was having that crisis in real time. They all needed to face the music and help take on some of the weight, especially after all Nightmare had done for them. Was still doing for them. 

“Think there’s… something I can do? To help you with the meetings?” He paused, and Dust didn’t say anything so he continued. “Or help the King?” 

He hadn’t exactly been doing much. Killer and Dust had taken on most of the responsibility, and Ccino… that poor guy, Horror wasn’t sure how he was managing everything he was. Killer gave them a breakdown once of all the shit he technically oversees as the ‘Head of House’ and stars was it way too much. And Cross was still a rookie, so he got why Nightmare hadn’t assigned any big stressors to him. Horror was capable though, and he hoped the King wasn’t-

“Next few weeks. He can’t meet the farms. I dunno how he runs those meetings.” Dust once again sliced through his thoughts with his even tone. “ ‘sides. You stayed, didn’t do your missions. Watching out for Cross. Think Night likes having us close. Already helping a lot.” 

Right. When Dust says it like that, it made his whole lot of nothing sound like everything. Sometimes he forgot Dust was an older brother. Horror chuckled a bit, and he could’ve sworn Dust’s cheekbones rose ever so slightly with the twitch of a hidden grin. He should’ve known better anyhow, Dust always knew just the right information. It was why Night hired him in the first place. 

“You’re doin’ well. Keeping things moving smooth. I’m sure the King appreciates it.” Horror voiced, before he sighed and hoisted himself to his feet. His axe was definitely done. He’d sharpen it another day. “Maybe,” A grin appeared on his face. “When he’s better, we can assign Kills to talk instead.” 

In hardly a moment, a silent moment, Dust was at his side now standing. He raised a doubtful brow at the suggestion. 

.

What is he doing? What is he doing?  

Oh, this felt so, so odd! He wasn’t- he shouldn’t! Well, he was ordered to, but still! He-

“Cross?” 

Cross jolted as he looked up from where he had made a poor attempt at excusing himself from the group outside. He’d insisted he had important business, he was sure he sounded convincing… until he’d walked through the nearest door. Which happened to be one of the weapon storage closets out amidst the training grounds. 

Now, as he turned to face the person who had spoken, he found that there was someone standing in the doorway. A familiar someone. A human with an impressive beard and dark tanned skin and scars tracing across his cheekbones ever so faintly and kind eyes with a few wrinkles under them. From age or stress, Cross wasn’t entirely sure. 

This was Captain Rogers. The King’s first in command who watched over all the royal guard as well as castle security. The man who had personally guided the batch of recruits which Cross had snuck in with during his spying mission hardly two years prior. The man who, he had swiftly learned, had seen through him very quickly and had purposely placed him with Shep as his guide. That damn liar. Captain Rogers was sharp, and skilled, and trustworthy. 

As far as he knew, the Captain had been around longer than Killer. At least, that’s what Killer had told him when he asked. He also had mentioned, and Cross had noticed, he was friends with the Head of House. Cross guessed that made sense. The captain had ensured Ccino be introduced as an important person within the castle very early on in their work here, and he had been proven very very right. 

Maybe it was that reputation Cross had seen true with his own two eyes during his stay that led him to not ask the Captain to leave as he eased his way into the weapons storage and gently closed the door behind him. He wasn’t a threat. Especially if the King trusted him with Ccino. He could know that much. 

“I’m not looking to disturb your business here, but I wanted to see if I could be of any assistance.” The Captain offered loosely. 

He’d been kind since Cross was pardoned by the King and allowed to train. His first few weeks when he fought against the Captain’s own soldiers? He and the King had both been patient with him. Something about being in combat like that again… it had brought out the worst in him. An old wound reopening in his chest like an empty chasm. He was pretty sure the King never explained to the Captain why they would suddenly stop mid-round, but Cross figured he could see the change as well as Nightmare could feel it. They’d only kept that up a few weeks until he was deemed too high of a skill level to continue training with the soldiers. He’d been moved to private training with the Knights not much later than that. Only saw the Captain in passing ever since. 

If nothing else, that time under his guidance had taught Cross that he was a man who knew how to speak with others. With security for himself and what he does, a pride in his work. He didn’t act maliciously. Perhaps only in jest or retribution to those who deserved it. He wouldn’t follow Cross in here if he hadn’t noticed him acting weird. 

That mortified him.

“Thank you. For the- for the offer, Captain Rogers.” Cross replied hurriedly, realizing he’d already been staring for a period of time that felt too long. “Though I’m not sure there’s anything that can be helped.”

The Captain was silent for a few breaths, but he did wander deeper into the shed to join Cross before the stand which he had decided to stop at in his rush to get out from the scrutinous eyes of the soldiers out there. He turned away. He could easily see the reflection of the Captain on the steel surfaces of the longswords he’d stationed himself in front of. Of course he’d stopped near the long swords. He was so predictable. 

“I’m not so sure about that, kid. I’ve seen time again how the helpless can be helped in these recent years.” He said quietly. Part of Cross knew that, with their ranking, in some ways they were meant to be equals. It never seemed that way, though. Maybe that was why Cross’ nerves were on fire. “So if I can help, I’d like to offer it to you.” 

Yeah. From what Cross had seen of the people in this castle in these two years, it made sense to him now more than ever that Nightmare would keep people like the Captain around for so long. 

Wait…

“Have you… spoken with our King recently?” Cross had to know. 

After all, he hardly saw Nightmare interact with his own soldiers. He devoted much time into his Knights, but those in lower rank hardly saw him. He didn’t seem to know their names as well as he did the servants. Did he leave all business up to the Captain for the sake of trust? Was there something he had been missing? 

He saw as the Captain glanced towards the closed door, and his eyes skimmed the rack of weapons. Checking for any signs of life in the reflection. His eyes only landed on Cross, staring right back at him in the shining steel. 

“Not directly, no. Though I have heard word from Ccino as to how he is fairing. Seen him pass by in the night a few times. He seems to be doing well, considering it all.” He voiced, his voice almost dropping to an inaudible whisper. Cross had to stop breathing to be able to hear him. “I know you see him regularly. I’m glad for that.” 

Cross nodded, mostly to himself. Yes, he figured that the Captain would know. Why else would he agree to let Cross back out among his men so easily? The King was in danger if he didn’t train these monsters. 

He took a slight breath from the silence, drinking in the scent of cleaners and musty wood.

“I wish Killer was in charge of this…” He muttered to himself, dragging his hand up to his skull to place pressure to his sockets with the heel of his palms. 

And he nearly jumped when the Captain let a laugh fall from his mouth. It was subdued, but hardy enough Cross practically felt it bounce around in his ribcage alongside his racing soul. 

“You truly believe Sir Killer would have better luck with something like this?” The Captain questioned, a slight smile still present after his raucous laugh had scared Cross to the bone. “No ill will, of course. Just… think on it. Truly.” 

Cross, part of him, felt an indignation on Killer’s behalf. For a moment he wondered if the Captain was being rude towards the Knight. The oldest of them, the most skilled, the one who stood at King Nightmare’s side. Though it only took half a second for him to recall. No, he was actually right. He couldn’t picture Killer out there on the training grounds, trying to teach swaths of people at a time. To dodge, too. Killer was a very aggressive fighter and only fled when he truly needed to. Even then, most of that work belonged to his beloved steed Granite. Killer was not the type to teach fighting lessons to a crowd. 

Though, he wondered how the Captain had come to a conclusion like that. Cross had heard that Nightmare had sparred with the Captain before. Only a few times, not even close to the kind of intense training which the Knights had to go through. That he had been training. Before Night’s change, of course. From what he’d been told. The Captain had only lasted hardly a minute. One, very impressive, minute, but still. There was no way he’d ever sparred against Killer.

“No… You are right, Killer wouldn’t be the best option here.” He admitted. “Though I get the feeling that one of the Knights would be a better fit for this sort of training…”

Of course, it went unsaid in the silence which followed that, well, the other Knights were too busy to do something like this. Dust was leading every meeting Nightmare had scheduled, and planned to continue for as long as he was needed. Killer was busy staying by the King’s side and taking on the King’s usual commoner communications. Figuring out what little issues were good to be dealt with how. As well as ‘cleaning out’ the dungeon. Cross was pretty sure they didn’t keep as many criminals as they had in the past, even when Cross was among the cells those two years ago it hadn’t been very crowded. He had a feeling that the more dangerous and violent of those below the castle had been swiftly dealt with by Killer’s blade. Horror he was pretty sure was preparing. The two of them had spent a lot of time by each other’s sides those first few days, when the King was asleep or waking for only short periods before returning to sleep. After, though, Horror received his orders to cancel his missions and prepare for the upcoming harvests which would need to be guided and recorded over the fall. Cross… Cross had only been asked to continue his training with Horror when their schedules fell in line, and to work with Killer to settle any local matters. 

He didn’t mind it so far, there had been very little to do, though. He worried he’d been sidelined. Sent to do the unimportant tasks because he wasn’t capable enough. Nightmare had smiled at him, but he seemed distressed. Cross was too, then. 

There was no way the King had chosen him to do something like this. Teach others. He couldn’t do that. 

“Well, it is a shame that you think like that. You were recommended to me for this training, you know?” The Captain crossed his arms. “By several someones, actually. Training the soldiers may have been my idea, but you were who many pointed to when I asked for assistance.” 

Cross blinked at those words in confusion. 

Who could have possibly suggested he do something like this? 

“I find that hard to believe.” He said. He’d meant it to sound a bit more joking, but it looked like it’d come out more genuine. The Captain furrowed his brow in response, and Cross attempted to backpedal, raising his hands a little. “I mean! Kidding! Just kidding!” Though his awkward chuckle obviously wasn’t contagious. 

“Look, Cross.” He huffed after those words. “If you really don’t want to do this, I can always ask for a hand from someone else. I bet Horror would do it in your stead if we reached out to him.” He offered. 

Was- was the Captain really just going to let him slip away from this? He was kind. Incredibly so. 

He wondered how it would feel to just accept. Hand off the stressful duty to Horror. Horror knew these people better anyhow, they had trained early on before Nightmare decided to offer him a position as Knight. Horror still spoke with most of them regularly. Cross, on the other hand, evaded eye contact like a kicked puppy. It would be so easy to just let Horror take over before he had to do his meeting things for the harvest season. It would be so convenient. So easy. 

“No. I’ll do it.” He said quickly. 

The Captain raised a brow, but Cross was already moving past him. Towards the door. 

“Sudden change of heart?” The Captain questioned from behind him. 

Cross took a deep inhale. One to center himself as he outstretched his hand and placed it on the knob leading back outside. 

“I don’t think I’m any good at leading or teaching, thinking on it makes me sick to my stomach… but the idea of making the others take on another responsibility is ten times worse.” He practically spat. 

No, he was not happy about this. He shoved open the door to the shed and drew his sword as he walked back towards the warm-up field where the soldiers had occupied themselves by whacking dummies with their weapons. He wanted nothing more than to turn away, out of the beating sun and watchful gazes of these people who he once hid among. He couldn’t though. Not when everyone else had some way to help. If this was Cross’ new duty, he’d do it with all the confidence he could muster. 

… Besides. They were training for fast-reaction magic attacks. He was literally the only choice for this. He’d just have to make his own training regime this time around. He could do this. 

.

Killer had done a lot of odd jobs in his past. Most of them involved stealing. Or threatening. Or killing. He had to get his name from somewhere, after all. Even so, running into town to pick up Ccino’s fabric order hadn’t been something he’d ever expected to be on his resume. 

The King was having one of his rough days. Killer hadn’t often been able to see them first-hand back in the day, but he knew they were very much there. The days he would lock himself away in his study, the Head of House the only one allowed to enter, bringing with him a cup of tea or a platter of small snacks. Staying inside for hours at a time on occasion. Killer had often guarded the door if nothing else, but the walls were thick. He couldn’t often hear the low murmuring voices within. 

Now, that the King was miniscule, Killer had been allowed to spend more time around both the King in his private spaces, as well as around Ccino. He was grateful for both opportunities. Though, today the King had looked exhausted. He’d been up for a few days trying to make that magic spell he found work, to make his eye cyan again. He wasn’t saying anything, but Killer figured it was draining his magic more than he wanted to admit. And earlier, when Dust came to deliver those reports from the meeting, Ccino had asked the two of them to stay for a while so he could collect a delivery. Only… Nightmare nearly flung himself out of his seat when he heard Ccino suggest he was leaving. The King didn’t outright say anything, but all of them knew those wide sockets were pleading. A silent beg to stay. Which was quickly followed by stray tears that he hastily noticed and covered with his sleeves. 

Emotions. He hadn’t thought the King had been such a crybaby before. Maybe he hadn’t been. Killer couldn’t blame him though. If he had to go back to being 13, with the awareness of his 13 year old self? Yeah. No. He’s pretty sure he wouldn’t make it a day. It was just that he was a crying a lot. The slightest little things would make his sockets well with tears, and then he’d try to insist he was okay and didn’t need help. Even when he would still bury into Ccino’s arms the moment they came in contact. 

That was what had happened. Ccino returned to the King’s side, and the King immediately clung to him, muttering apologies. Insisting he go out anyways. What he reacted poorly and should be able to handle himself.

Killer had looked to Dust, and Dust had just nodded at him. 

“I’ll go get the order.” Killer had offered stupidly, a little too eagerly, into the open air. 

Both Nightmare and Ccino had seemed startled, but when he promised he wanted to run into town anyways (he hadn’t) they relented and Ccino gave him the details. Dust offered wordlessly to stay and watch over the King and head of House in Killer’s absense. He knew Killer all too well. He’d have to thank him with a drink sometime.

Those tears. They just made him uncomfortable. He wasn’t good with emotions, especially not sadness. He doesn’t know quite how to fix crying. It’s not his thing. 

It just made sense for Ccino to stay and Dust to watch over them. His big brother senses must’ve been strong today, and his patience plentiful. 

He’s run to the shop, of course. A tailor shop owned by a pretty skeleton just off from the capital square. He hadn’t seemed excited to see Killer, even with that mask. A nervous energy rolling off his shoulders as he reluctantly gathered items from behind the desk and packed them carefully into the bag which Ccino had sent him with to carry the items. He’d asked about Ccino. Whether he was okay. Killer had just told him that Ccino was busy so he was running errands. They hadn’t had much more to say beyond that. 

Now, he was back in the castle, ready to present Ccino with his prize, and see if the King had been able to calm down at all. 

“My lord?” He called out as he opened the door to the study with an easy swing of wood on heavy hinges. Slipping inside was no problem, but he’d be stupid to deny that he was confused when he didn’t spot the little monarch sitting behind his too-big wooden desk piled high with paperwork. 

“Killer,” He sure knew that voice! His head swiveled until his vision fell to Ccino, sitting on one of the couches. Dust was nowhere in sight. “Perfect timing. Dust just left to meet with Horror to train… How was your trip to town?” 

Ccino, polite and reserved as always. It made Killer’s gut twist just a little. At the distance. His soul certainly wriggled in place as he made his approach, bag clutched by one hand at his side. 

“Not bad. Could’ve done with a little more action!” He joked, though as he got closer, he lowered his voice and the laugh trying to come to him simmered back into his cheshire grin. “Your little friend from the shop asked about you.” 

As Killer rounded the largest couch to stand just across the low table from Ccino, he noticed what he hadn’t prior. The King was curled up with his back to killer, arms loosely hugging to Ccino’s middle, his face buried against Ccino’s apron. A blanket normally tossed over the back of the few chairs within the room was covering him, and someone had tucked him in tight, like a bug in a rug. Even more charmingly, one of the cats took up the rest of the space on Ccino’s lap. That little calico, Princess. Her back was pressed to the back of Nightmare’s skull and she seemed perfectly content to roll up into a perfect little bun on her master’s lap. 

And despite the adorable scene, Killer didn’t miss how Ccino seemed to perk up at the mention of his friend. So they were friends, then. 

“What did you tell him?” Ccino asked, his voice quiet. One of his hands was settled gently atop Nightmare’s side, the other was free and tucked by his side. 

Killer chuckled quietly, sitting on the opposite couch as he plopped his delivery silently to the table before Ccino. 

“Nothing bad. Told him you were busy so I was out on a grocery run. Everyone knows you’re a very busy man.” He teased. Was it okay to tease him right now? Was Ccino going to be mad with him?

Well, if he was, he didn’t seem to say anything about it. Instead , he peered at the bag, then smiled a bit. 

“Well, thank you for running out, my Knight.” He returned, eyelights shifting back down to his charge who rested in the comfort and safety of his lap. …Killer had to admit to himself that he was a bit jealous. “When I have the chance, I plan to visit our tailor and ensure that our King has a wider wardrobe, since it seems he truly won’t be returning to his previous form anytime soon.” 

Right. They were still trying to keep everything under wraps, so Ccino couldn’t just send a servant with measurements to see the seamstress halfway across castle grounds. He probably had to go himself. Especially because, as Killer had quickly learned, Nightmare is particular about things. The texture of his meals, the feeling of his clothes, even the temperature of his sheets in the night or the brightness of a candle. Though, he rarely voices his discomfort. Ccino was just a master of noticing the little ways the small King would squirm or tug at his top or squint at a candle just a bit too strong for his newly sensitive eyes. He wanted to learn how to do that so well. 

His only good news on that front was that Nightmare still made a lot of the same gestures as before. His little, silent commands to Killer. At ease, be alert, with me. He was fond of still being familiar with their own little secret code they’d unintentionally invented over the years. 

“It really wasn’t a big deal. Besides, our little Lord said that it’d be better for the city to see the knights are still active, right? With Dust and Horror out of commission for day-trips, I’ve gotta pick up the slack!” he joked, leaning back comfortably into the couch and sighing. “Next time you need a break, we can always try and ask him to supervise a training for us. Maybe it’d make him feel a little better?” he suggested,

Nightmare, small as he was now, still couldn’t deny a duty which called for him. Especially, Killer assumed, from his Knights. A little of that old normality would probably be good for him. Make him feel like not much had changed. Even though… it definitely had. 

Ccino smiled a bit at that idea, his hand gently petting Nightmare’s ar. His chest rose up and down ever so gently. 

“He cherishes training with all of you so dearly. Maybe he would enjoy a small break from all of these worries.” He agreed quietly.

[elumish]

I think one of the most fundamental plot failures I see across a lot of books is that the person chosen to solve a problem is not a person who it makes sense to choose to solve this problem.

This ends up being true for a lot of YA books where the teenager is the chosen solution to a problem because they need to be for plot reasons, but there is no actual logical reason why anyone would be relying on them to solve this problem (or often even letting them get close to this problem). No, this kid can't work for the FBI or the Secret Service. No, this twelve-year-old won't be a more accomplished soldier than a fully-trained servicemember. No, this kid isn't allowed to practice medicine.

And you can work around this by presenting a reason for them to be involved despite being less qualified--usually that they put themselves in a situation, despite the adults around them, but also that there is something else that makes them suited to a job/role despite their other lack of qualifications (we need someone who can blend in, etc.).

But it's also true for a lot of adult books. I'm reading a book where the ER doctor/medical professor First Gentleman is going to lead the response to a plane full of people who potentially have Marburg virus, and even ignoring the fact that he wouldn't be allowed within a thousand feet of that plane by the Secret Service, that also fundamentally just does not make sense with how U.S. pandemic and quarantine response work (or even how medicine works--an ER doctor is generally not an infecious disease specialist). It's waved away for plot reasons--but it also represents a failure of the plot as a whole.

Why is your character the one who is trying to solve this problem? Is it their job? If it's not their job, what does it mean for the story for them to be trying to solve a problem that they aren't qualified for, may not have access to, and/or aren't allowed to deal with?

If your only answer is "it works because it needs to work for plot reasons" then it doesn't work at all.

[phantomrose96]

The conversation around AI is going to get away from us quickly because people lack the language to distinguish types of AI--and it's not their fault. Companies love to slap "AI" on anything they believe can pass for something "intelligent" a computer program is doing. And this muddies the waters when people want to talk about AI when the exact same word covers a wide umbrella and they themselves don't know how to qualify the distinctions within.

I'm a software engineer and not a data scientist, so I'm not exactly at the level of domain expert. But I work with data scientists, and I have at least rudimentary college-level knowledge of machine learning and linear algebra from my CS degree. So I want to give some quick guidance.

What is AI? And what is not AI?

So what's the difference between just a computer program, and an "AI" program? Computers can do a lot of smart things, and companies love the idea of calling anything that seems smart enough "AI", but industry-wise the question of "how smart" a program is has nothing to do with whether it is AI.

A regular, non-AI computer program is procedural, and rigidly defined. I could "program" traffic light behavior that essentially goes { if(light === green) { go(); } else { stop();} }. I've told it in simple and rigid terms what condition to check, and how to behave based on that check. (A better program would have a lot more to check for, like signs and road conditions and pedestrians in the street, and those things will still need to be spelled out.)

An AI traffic light behavior is generated by machine-learning, which simplistically is a huge cranking machine of linear algebra which you feed training data into and it "learns" from. By "learning" I mean it's developing a complex and opaque model of parameters to fit the training data (but not over-fit). In this case the training data probably includes thousands of videos of car behavior at traffic intersections. Through parameter tweaking and model adjustment, data scientists will turn this crank over and over adjusting it to create something which, in very opaque terms, has developed a model that will guess the right behavioral output for any future scenario.

A well-trained model would be fed a green light and know to go, and a red light and know to stop, and 'green but there's a kid in the road' and know to stop. A very very well-trained model can probably do this better than my program above, because it has the capacity to be more adaptive than my rigidly-defined thing if the rigidly-defined program is missing some considerations. But if the AI model makes a wrong choice, it is significantly harder to trace down why exactly it did that.

Because again, the reason it's making this decision may be very opaque. It's like engineering a very specific plinko machine which gets tweaked to be very good at taking a road input and giving the right output. But like if that plinko machine contained millions of pegs and none of them necessarily correlated to anything to do with the road. There's possibly no "if green, go, else stop" to look for. (Maybe there is, for traffic light specifically as that is intentionally very simplistic. But a model trained to recognize written numbers for example likely contains no parameters at all that you could map to ideas a human has like "look for a rigid line in the number". The parameters may be all, to humans, meaningless.)

So, that's basics. Here are some categories of things which get called AI:

"AI" which is just genuinely not AI

There's plenty of software that follows a normal, procedural program defined rigidly, with no linear algebra model training, that companies would love to brand as "AI" because it sounds cool.

Something like motion detection/tracking might be sold as artificially intelligent. But under the covers that can be done as simply as "if some range of pixels changes color by a certain amount, flag as motion"

2. AI which IS genuinely AI, but is not the kind of AI everyone is talking about right now

"AI", by which I mean machine learning using linear algebra, is very good at being fed a lot of training data, and then coming up with an ability to go and categorize real information.

The AI technology that looks at cells and determines whether they're cancer or not, that is using this technology. OCR (Optical Character Recognition) is the technology that can take an image of hand-written text and transcribe it. Again, it's using linear algebra, so yes it's AI.

Many other such examples exist, and have been around for quite a good number of years. They share the genre of technology, which is machine learning models, but these are not the Large Language Model Generative AI that is all over the media. Criticizing these would be like criticizing airplanes when you're actually mad at military drones. It's the same "makes fly in the air" technology but their impact is very different.

3. The AI we ARE talking about. "Chat-gpt" type of Generative AI which uses LLMs ("Large Language Models")

If there was one word I wish people would know in all this, it's LLM (Large Language Model). This describes the KIND of machine learning model that Chat-GPT/midjourney/stablediffusion are fueled by. They're so extremely powerfully trained on human language that they can take an input of conversational language and create a predictive output that is human coherent. (I am less certain what additional technology fuels art-creation, specifically, but considering the AI art generation has risen hand-in-hand with the advent of powerful LLM, I'm at least confident in saying it is still corely LLM).

This technology isn't exactly brand new (predictive text has been using it, but more like the mostly innocent and much less successful older sibling of some celebrity, who no one really thinks about.) But the scale and power of LLM-based AI technology is what is new with Chat-GPT.

This is the generative AI, and even better, the large language model generative AI.

(Data scientists, feel free to add on or correct anything.)

[universalrainbow]

The mask = muted player idea is so funny to me for some reason.

Like

Poppy: "did you really think I was just ignoring you the entire time?"

Player, casually: "idk, I just kinda thought you hated me."

Poppy: [suddenly looks very sad]

Player: "oh. Oh no, please don't be sad, I didn't mean it like that-"

Also, with how chatty player is now, imagine the others wondering just how much they missed out on. Player always seems to have something to say, be it a quickwitted joke, an inquisitive remark, or an exclamation of delight.

Given the grab pack, I assume there wasn't much hand gesturing to convey conversation (and the mask probably obscured eye movements), but there still would have been some moments. Player looking and tilting their head, jerking their chin at something as if making a comment, rapid nodding or shaking.

Thinking back, the others now recognize one sided conversations.

Player is still (playfully) sad their witty commentary went unheard, but it might be for the best. Now any impulsive dumb comments are unknown, and any angry or startled swearing has gone undetected.

(I feel like Player would have been spitting the foulest swears and threats for the doctor after the first freeze incident with Doey. Seeing the poor guy in obvious pain awakens vengeful, protective rage in them. That kind of cruelty Will Not Stand)

Poppy: "did you really think I was just ignoring you the entire time?"

Player, casually: "idk, I just kinda thought you hated me."

Poppy: [suddenly looks very sad]

Player: "oh. Oh no, please don't be sad, I didn't mean it like that-"

doey: "wait so did you think all of us hated you?"

player flinches a bit knowing where this was going: " well..... kinda? its nothing against you guys I swear! its just from my point of view.....no matter what i said, did, or tried to explain. Nothing was really acknowledged. I mean despite only working on the first level as a gift shop employee-"

doey : "wait hold on gift shop?? You weren't a scientist or idk a caretaker??"

player confused: " no? I was a broke newly orphaned 18 year old with no college degree. I was paid dirt wages, while getting yelled at by parents. I wasn't really qualified for either. let alone morally corrupt enough to go along with it."

Toys: newly orphaned....

player casually: oh yea my mom died a few months before my dad, heart disease. Then dad didn't take care of himself and just went in his sleep. Thankfully I was legally an adult at the time.hehe

Toys squeaking to each other: ....Are they more traumatized than us at this point???

player oblivious: Anyway wanna hear about the time my coworker tried to push me into a toy machine because i accidentally ate their sandwitch?

toys squeaking to each other: yep they definitely are.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the factory, players responses.

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mommy long legs explaining the wack a huggy game.

player: Dear god, they just had kids wopping these things without a second thought? What the F**k?! why were the supposed brightest people alive testing fate! This is how you get killed in horror movies. This is what horror shows and games warn about! the warning is dont be a massive D**K for no reason to things clearly more powerful than you!"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

player on the first train, scared S**tless: "WERE GOING ON A TRIP IN OUR FAVORITE PEICE OF S**T GOING 95! IM GONNA F**KING DIE!!!!!"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Player falls into pianasorous pit

pianasorous notices them

player full of dread :"clever girl"

Doey appears and eats pianasoros.

player : "OH WHAT THE F-"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

player going to fight the prototype

player: Im sleep deprived, hungry, and all out of F**ks! You think YOUR SCARY! I EAT PIZZA WITH PINEAPPLE ON IT!

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

player after winning against the prototype: huff........huff i have made the metal one pay for his crimes.

[nathaslosthershit]

Long Distance (LN4)

Summary: Long distance relationships are hard, especially when they both have very time consuming careers

Warnings; Angst (a whole lot), no happy ending in this part (will happen in pt 2)

Request: hi!! requesting a lando norris x female uni!reader if possible reader being a medical student or a one of the engineers on the paddock 🧍🏻‍♀️

Lando wasn’t known for being the smartest on the grid. He, like many other drivers, had only a few years of school to his name. But that still hadn’t stopped him from being able to somehow ‘woo’ a woman quite the opposite. 

His girlfriend was currently in her last year of medical school. While he was unbelievably proud of how far she had come, the difficulties of long distance have gotten to both of them, and there wasn’t much hope once she graduated and was off to a medical training program. With her studying for finals and Lando being off to a new country every two weeks for Grand Prixs, their relationship has been rocky to say the least.

Constant lack of communication and missing each other's calls had led them to have tons of unspoken dialogue. Each unanswered call created the smallest bit of resentment that just continued to grow and grow. 

No more sweet ‘goodmorning’ or ‘goodnight’ texts, no more wishing her well before a big test, no more sending ‘good luck baby!’ before qualifying. Just a few ‘how are you doing?’ and other bland messages you’d send to a coworker, not your significant other. 

After weeks of little communication, they had finally scheduled a ‘zoom date’. Not particularly the most romantic date they had been on, but it's the best they could do with their schedules. Lando called in late at night for him while his girlfriend had a lunch break in between labs. Time zones be damned.

Lando was 25 minutes late leaving only 35 minutes to actually talk to one another.

Her wifi was spotty so it kept freezing.

Finally, with only 5 minutes left, Lando decided to make a joke that there is no reason for her to continue going to labs, as he would be happy to be her ‘sugar daddy’. This was not very well received by his girlfriend, who responded with a quick “fuck you” and hung up early.

Lando was joking, a bit. He loved his girlfriend and saw a future with her, he just couldn’t stand long distance and any job in the medical field was bound to take up most of your time. He wanted her, but he also wanted someone who could be by his side on race day. That just wasn’t something that was possibly currently. 

He supported her. He loved to brag about how smart she was and how she was so dedicated to helping people. But that came with setbacks.

After a quick message from Lando (‘I was kidding darling. You know how proud I am of you. Lighten up a little, yeah?’), which she ignored, she was off to her labs in a worse mood than before. Things couldn’t go on like this. 

He hadn’t heard from her in three days. His “how are you, love?” and “Miss you lots. Hope your class is going better than my neck training :(“ went unanswered. She knew she was being petty, but maybe a relationship was just too hard for her life currently. 

After three long and stressful days of silence, she called him. With no message asking what she needed to speak about, Lando feared he already knew.

“We can’t keep doing this” She said after they quickly exchanged a ‘hi, how are you?’ ‘I'm good, how are you?’. 

“Baby, I told you it was just a-”

“I know that Lando! It's just that this isn’t the first time you have mentioned me quitting my career to be your housewife or whatever unrealistic idea you have stuck in your head.”

“I don’t need you to be a housewife! I don’t want that for you. I just try to let you know that you don’t need to worry about your future as much because I will always be there to help you.”

“But I want a career! I want to work hard so I can have a good future. You need to get it into your head that your career isn’t the only important one.”

“I don’t think that! Me wanting to let you know that I support you no matter what isn't diminishing your career plans! It would be nice if you started to show a little more support. I am so sick and tired of all our conversations revolving around you and how your day was. If classes are rough, or you are stressed, you don’t respond to me. I never know where I land with you. But god forbid I try to mention how hard my day was. I am just as sick of it.”

She didn’t know how to respond. It seems that all the times she has been more focused on how she was feeling she completely forgot to check on how he was doing. Before she can even muster out an apology, Lando jumps back in.

“Maybe you are right. I don’t think I can do this either. Not anymore.” He feels his stomach dropping as he says the words, not fully meaning them.

There is a long silence, moments where she wants to apologize, to try and reconcile. In that moment all of the good memories of their relationship come flashing back to her, as if her mind is begging her to do something. But she doesn’t. 

“Then I guess this is it.” She finally says. 

“I guess so.”

Part 2 out now!

[chummywchimmy]

BOY IN LUV (Rewritten)

Chapter 1

PAIRING : Yandere! Bully! Taehyung x Reader

SUMMARY : Your encounter with the campus bad boy was a disaster. All you wanted was to never see him again. But when his punishing attention shifts to you, your world begins to change. When have things ever gone your way?

WARNINGS : Mature language, sexism, misogynist characters, eventual yandere

A/N - Hello everyone! As I promised, I am back. To get back into the groove of writing again, I decided to pick up my unfinished BIL fic. This will be uploaded in episodes, with a new chapter being uploaded every month (longer that this one). However, I will be uploading two chapters per month on my Patreon. So, for this month, for my Patreon subscribers, in addition to this chapter, chapter two and three will also be uploaded. If you can, please support my Patreon. Many thanks and enjoy!

MY PATREON

I do not own BTS ( :((( ) My intention is not to glorify toxic behavior nor do I believe BTS member would ever act like this. It’s just a figment of my imagination. Know the difference. Please.

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The crush of people at the underground subway should have felt suffocating, bleak even. Yet, your heart was filled with excitement. 

With your friend, Sam, by your side, you were moving towards your destiny. Gatford College. SAT’s through the roof-sky high tuition-home to cutting edge research-Gatford. Yes, slogging throughout your high school to achieve near perfect scores to qualify for a scholarship here had been worth it. 

“Just how many pens have you brought with you, geez.” Sam, rifling through your bag for your promised treat of homemade cookies, laughed at your over-preparedness. 

You laughed. “Hey, that’s all I could do last night. No way I could find any sleep with all this excitement.”

Talking over the crunch of the cookies, the two of you occupied a cramped corner of the train. 

As the train moved towards your deboarding station, Sam took her long hair out of the ponytail that it was seen, fluffing it up and pulling out a sheer lipgloss. Replying to your amused look, she said, “You promised our college life would be full of fun and romance if I worked hard on the SAT’s. Can’t blame a girl for wanting to look the part.”

Sam, unlike you, came from an upper middle class family, with a well earning father and a mother who could afford to stay at home. Unlike you, who could only afford to see the face of Gatford thanks to your scholarship, Sam had won a partial scholarship. The two of you had motivated each other with promises of parties, dates and all that came with being a young adult right out of school. Now that you were here, and together, you would join Sam in her fun loving and extroverted nature. 

Agreeing, you took hold of the pink gloss stick in her hands and swiped them across your nude color coated lips.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stepping into the marble foyer, you noted the silence of the hallways. The expensive kind of silence. This was no no-name college. 

White marble floor gleamed in your vision as your plain ballet flats stood in its contrast. Legacy kids in designer jackets breezed past you and Sam, looking sure and confident of the way, as they surely were of their way in the world. 

The elegant receptionist had sent the two of you with directions to reach the auditorium in the main building to attend the orientation. 

Reaching the ornate gates, you were greeted by a line of upperclassmen who were smiling at and introducing themselves to the newbies, with gleaming student council badges pinned to their lapels.

Finding yourself shaking hands with a petite, blonde girl decked out in a sleek black powersuit, you were happy to see that, unlike the intimidating first impression, the people of this college could be welcoming.

“Hello, I’m Nina! We are so happy to welcome you to Gatford. Please take the seats in the hall, the orientation is about to begin. Enjoy your first day.” Nina spoke enthusiastically and ushered you inside.

Taking your seats, you smiled at Sam. This wasn’t half bad. No, not at all.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Oh this was very bad. 

By the time classes ended, you could barely keep your eyes open. Combined with barely getting any sleep last night, the overly filled class schedule left you feeling tired down to your bones. And you were scared. The professors seemed no-nonsense, strict and the coursework looked endless from your perspective. And to think that this was only the first day. Sigh. 

“Are you seriously planning to go the library right now, girl?” Sam deadpanned. “It is just the first day. Let’s go tour the campus a bit. Besides, you don’t honestly believe that all these kids would get by in here if the coursework was so demanding, right?”

Technically, she had a point. There were bound to be hard-workers born into every tax bracket but you couldn’t imagine your classmates struggling to fill up the library seats on the first day. 

You could live a little. You grinned at your best friend, “Let’s go.”

Stepping outside, the orange sky outlined your periphery as manicured lawns and vine covered gazebos filled your vision. Groups of students took up the space, chatting after a long day. Many of them held steaming cups of coffee.

As you and Sam moved towards the recreational area of the campus to grab a cuppa, you opted to go into one of the more modest looking coffee shops. Surely, coffee places with names you couldn’t even pronounce couldn’t be too good on your student budget. 

Before moving inside, you spied a poster stating, ‘Barista Needed!’. Well, you could make a mean latte and a few extra bucks close to campus could be good for you.

Collecting your paper cups, you left the shop feeling satisfied with your decision to apply for the vacancy. 

Sam chattered about her new puppy, with you cooing over his pictures and promising to visit to play with the little fluff ball.

“-and I kept on trying to teach him to- hey, what’s up with the crowd?” She wiggled her eyebrows towards the crowd forming near the parking area.

You joined the crowd of quiet onlookers and looked at the confusing scene. 

A boy, probably a freshman like you, stood with slouched shoulders, an expression of discomfort evident from his rapidly moving eyes and downturned face. 

You heard the laughter before you saw them. Not the friendly kind. It was sharp. Mean. The kind that made your skin crawl. Around the corner of the arts building, a group had gathered. Five boys in expensive sneakers and even more expensive egos. 

“C’mon, freshie. Rank the girls in your class. Who’s top-tier?”

“W-what?” the boy stammered.

“Top five girls in your class,” one of them said, grinning. “Don’t be shy. It’s tradition.”

The boy blinked rapidly. “I-I don’t know-”

“Don’t play dumb,” another chimed in. “It’s tradition. Call it… a rite of passage.”

Sam slowed beside you. “Are you seeing this? Are they seriously making him rate girls?”

“Looks like it,” you murmured, unease pooling in your gut. “God, that’s messed up.”

A ripple of laughter followed. You felt your stomach twist.

And then you saw him.

Sitting on the hood of the shiny black Mercedes parked behind them, legs crossed, uncaring of the dirt on his shoes’ soles dirtying the swanky car’s polish, phone in hand, a man sat, barely glancing up. He didn’t say a word, didn’t move, but the tension swirled around him like gravity.The others barked and jeered but they kept stealing glances at him, like checking if their king was pleased.

He looked amused. Not laughing. Just… entertained. Detached. He didn’t join the mockery. He didn’t have to. The others looked to him like dogs waiting for a nod. He gave nothing, just watched. Like this was beneath him but still his.

“Don’t stare,” someone muttered behind you.

You startled. Nina had stepped up beside you. She didn’t look at you, just kept watching the scene with a blank face. Compared to her cheerful demeanor from this morning, she looked timid, almost like she was withdrawing into herself. Similar was the case with everyone else in the crowd. Quiet, almost as if they were hypnotised.

“That’s Kim Taehyung,” she added. “You’re new, right?”

You nodded slowly.

“Then here’s a tip. Don't look twice. Don’t talk loud around him. And never, ever think you’re brave enough to play moral police.”

“What are they even doing?” you asked, voice low.

The senior gave a humorless smile. “Initiation. Harmless, compared to how bad it gets.”

“And no one reports them?”

She turned to you now, one brow raised. “To who, exactly? The dean? His dad funds half the board. You think rules apply to people like him?”

“They’re humiliating that kid,” Sam said through gritted teeth.

Nina gave her a look  not unkind, but tired. “You want to be a hero, go ahead. But just know, once he notices you, he doesn’t forget.”

Suddenly, the man in question looked up, his gaze clashing with yours, as if he could hear what was being said about him. 

Kim Taehyung’s gaze locked with yours across the courtyard. His dark eyes were unreadable. They were bottomless, almost. No anger, no joy. Just stillness. But something in them made your chest seize. Not because he looked cruel. Because he looked like someone who didn’t care if he was.

Cold. Flat. Watchful. The kind of gaze you’d expect from a predator when it’s not hunting, just observing lazily.

Your mouth went dry. Your skin prickled with the sudden, intense awareness of danger.

You looked away fast. Too fast. Like prey, with your legs carrying you forward before you even realized it.

“Hey-” Sam’s voice called from behind.

But you couldn’t stay there. Not with that gaze still burning between your shoulder blades.

“We should leave,” you mumbled, already turning.

Sam stayed a beat longer before following. “You know what creeps me out?” she said as you walked away. “He didn’t say a word. And yet, everyone else acted like he did.”

You didn’t reply.

Because the worst part wasn’t the silence.

It was the power in it.

Behind you, laughter echoed.

And Taehyung never said a word.

[anxious-chaos-art]

Nathan's form for shooting a bow and arrow is bad. Let's analyze why.

Look at that posture. Absolutely abysmal. His back is curving outward and he is leaning away from the bow. He's not planting himself in the ground, his legs are not underneath his shoulders. Doing that would give him more stability and strength.

Next let's look at his arm

His elbow is pointing down, his wrist and forearm are doing all the work. What he should be doing is raising his elbow more and using his back muscles. I like to imagine there's an egg between my shoulder blades that I need to squeeze.

The final thing that Nathan is doing wrong is that he looks like he's afraid of the bow. Now, in a normal situation I would say have more confidence. But in this situation I think he should be more afraid. That bow is not stable, that being said just because he should be afraid doesn't mean he should lean back away from it planting his feet on the ground might help his control of the arrow

Nathan is doing one thing right and that is holding the bow out at a full arms length. However, considering the situation and the type of bow they are using (bad) that might not be the best strategy. As we see with Spencer he is holding the boat closer to him in exchange for using his elbow as leverage.

Look at that form it's beautiful. I bet he has his feet under his shoulders too. and though it's not showing in this photo he is using a lighter touch on the bow. The more you grip it the less accuracy you have ironically.

Now let's think about why nobody wins in this situation. These bows suck. They are not large enough for two full-grown adults, their build is very simplistic and they are most definitely not for beginners.

Now I am trained to use a different type of bow so, take what I am saying here with a grain of salt. I immediately noticed the lack of arrow rest, and though I'm sure there are people who can knock an arrow without one it's always good for beginners to have an arrow rest, it also helps reduce the bulk of what's hitting the arrow on the way out.

[THIS IS AN ANALYSIS ON TWO PEOPLE ON THE INTERNET (WHO I DO NOT KNOW) FORMS. THIS IS NOT SERIOUS. I'M JUST A COUNSELOR WHO HAS BEEN TEACHING A LOT OF KIDS HOW TO USE A BOW AND I THOUGHT THIS MIGHT BE FUN. I'M NOT ACTUALLY CRITIQUING ANYTHING. AND IF I WAS I WOULD NOT BE QUALIFIED. THIS IS A FUN LITTLE GAME THAT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH ACTUAL SKILL AND I UNDERSTAND THAT. I'M JUST THROWING MY THOUGHTS OUT INTO THE VOID]

[BASICALLY THIS IS A JOKE]

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

(This one is just gonna be me thinking out loud, not really giving advice or making a point, so feel free to skip ahead if that’s not your thing!) 

My dear lgbt+ kids, 

Like many autistic people, I’d say I have special interests (intense, highly specific interests that take up much of my free time and thoughts, and bring me great joy). 

I think mine tick all the boxes, they match up with what I hear other autistic people say about their own: these interests have been loyal companions to me for years (or even decades) and I still love researching them and reading about them for hours while I do not feel that level of passion about things outside of these topics. I want to know all there is to know about them and I love going over the facts I already know. I incorporate these interests into my daily life (by writing about them and collecting things related to them), I seek them out in the media I consume (books, movies etc.) and while I don’t necessarily enjoy most social interactions in real life, I will happily talk your ears off about these topics. My brother often jokes that he never needs to ask me what I’m doing, because at any given time, no matter how impractical, the answer is most likely the same: reading articles about one of these three topics.

And yet, with all this being said: I feel like my special interests aren’t autistic enough. 

That’s a deeply irrational fear and I am aware of that. It’s not like I’m being paid to Perform An Autism™️, I’m just trying to live the way that feels natural for my brain. So it shouldn’t really matter if other people think I’m just being pretentious about having a regular old hobby… so what if they do! It wouldn’t change the way my brain works. It also wouldn’t change anything about the fact that categorizing these three topics as my special interests helps me make sense of my feelings about them. It helps me feel like they’re a valuable trait that makes me me, rather than some shameful obsession I should grow out of already. 

And yet, that doubt creeps in. So much so that I’m just realizing I wrote a whole blog post about my special interests without actually naming them! Let’s do that here. They are „Mental health and wellbeing in the lgbt+ community“, „sun safety“ and „Stray Kids (K-Pop group)“. 

A part of me now imagines you rolling your eyes collectively. „Yeah, Oliver, so you’re gay and mentally ill, don’t like to get sunburned, and are in a fandom. Big deal. None of these are autistic special interests. Heck, these barely qualify as interests.“ You are probably not actually thinking any of that. People are rarely as mean as we are to ourselves in our own heads. 

I guess I just feel like they’re not really… measurable enough to count as special interests. It should be something like trains or cars or maybe fish, something where you could memorize hundreds of different kinds of something. Something technical, something where my knowledge on it could be tested and graded. Who is testing these things? I don’t know and somehow I still feel like I’m failing the test. 

I do not have some powerful ending statement here. But I want to tell you what I tell myself: life doesn’t come with scorecards. I think that goes beyond being interested in the right things or being autistic the right way, it goes for everything. You’re not earning points for existing the „right“ way. There isn’t one right way. 

The right way for you is whatever fills you with joy. And joy isn’t measurable. My special interests might not fit the „can name hundreds of train models“ stereotype - but they fit me. They shape me, comfort me, stay by my side, like loyal companions. 

And maybe that’s enough. 

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Dad 

[2hoothoots]

last but not least in the Aquato family lineup, it's Queepie! you didn't forget about Queepie, did you..? (well, it's okay if you did. most people do.)

if you asked Queepie to describe himself, he'd have a hard time coming up with much interesting to say. he's a pretty unremarkable guy, all things considered. he recently started work as a fully qualified Psychonaut, and it's going... okay. he doesn't know if his heart's really in it. he likes music, but you probably haven't heard of his favourite band. he picked up journaling recently, but it's nothing special.

honestly, the most interesting thing about him is probably how he's spent the last decade living in his brother's shadow.

Queepie's not bitter - at least, he doesn't think of himself as bitter. it's not like he doesn't have his own accomplishments. he interned under Helmut Fullbear himself (after Helmut owed Raz a favour for reuniting his brain and his body). he got pretty good assessment results on his promotion to a fully-fledged Psychonaut (his brother was the youngest person ever to take on the role, but who's counting). he's still an acrobat, and he still performs with the family (but he's been slacking on his training, and his moves are getting sloppy, and when nobody calls him out on it he wonders why he ever really tried in the first place).

at 20, Queepie finds himself drifting. all of his older siblings seem to have their lives figured out. they're doing what they love, and Queepie feels like he's been left in the dust. he doesn't fit in at home - Mirtala is mom's favourite, and Dion is dad's favourite, and he's only ever been the baby of the family in comparison. Frazie's doing her own thing, and Raz - well, he's the golden child of the Psychonauts, isn't he? he's the superstar, the kid prodigy. Queepie is the other Agent Aquato.

but it's cool. he's not bitter. don't worry about it.

[dancingontheblades]

On Yuuri's "top-secret" love life

To check my suspicions about the reasons for Yuuri being so secretive about his love life, I took a deeper look into the information Yuri!!! On Ice gives us about Yuuri’s history with love and the implications this has for his character arc.

Let’s start with when Viktor introduces the two Yuris to their new short programmes:

A first examination of the subject of love usually happens in puberty when the average person experiences their first crush. However, 23-year-old Yuuri just cluelessly shakes his head when Viktor asks whether he’s ever thought about love.

Since Yuuri has an evasive nature when feeling pushed or embarrassed, we can assume that he answers honestly. Also interesting in this context, is his interpretation of Agape:

Yuuri is projecting his own experiences with love into his interpretation of On Love: Agape and Eros and his responses reflect where he’s currently at in his journey of exploring love. (for details see here meta LINK!!!).

Japanese language distinguishes between general love 愛 (“ai”) and romantic/passionate love 恋 (“koi”). These terms roughly approximate the Greek concepts of agape and eros as they are utilised in Yuri!!! On Ice. However, the anime doesn’t draw the distinction between 愛 and 恋 but uses 愛 (“ai”) as the overarching concept that includes other forms or love, e.g. せいてきな愛 (“sexual love”).

Until Viktor introduces the two Yuris into On Love: Agape and Eros, Yuuri has never wasted a thought on love, implying that

Until the end of episode 2, Yuuri has never had romantic feelings for another person.

But why can we be so sure of that?

Even a first crush inevitably prompts an examination of love to some extent regardless of whether one is happy in love, whether their feelings aren’t reciprocated or whether they decide not to act upon them.

If Yuuri had experienced such feelings before episode 2, he would know. And we would know, too, because it would impact his views on love, how he tackles his season’s theme, and how he goes about his relationship with Viktor. It would impact his character journey significantly and require some flashbacks to a past relationship to keep the storytelling sound and comprehensible. Instead, Yuri!!! On Ice introduces us to the extent of Yuuri’s parasocial obsession with Viktor that despite the gay-coding is too abstract to qualify as an actual crush.

Note: The Japanese term for “idol” that Yuuri uses for the people he idolises is the neutral 憧れの人 = “someone to look up to/admire”. It has no romantic connotation.

For the story of Yuri!!! On Ice to work as it does, Yuuri never having had romantic feelings prior to episode 2 is crucial.

Yuuri has one-track-mind that has made Viktor the fulcrum of his existence since he discovered Viktor at the onset of puberty (aka when young people start experiencing attraction for the first time). He has every poster of Viktor at least twice, he copied his programmes and he even named his poodle Katsuki Viktor (that’s canon, I’m not kidding). In his endeavour to face Viktor as an equal on the ice, he moves abroad to train with a renowned coach teaching at a first-class skating club. The show portrays Yuuri as being more interested in skating [to pursue Viktor] than in spending time with his friends, not that he’d be great at forming relationships in the first place due to his social awkwardness and introversion.

That doesn’t sound like someone who is in the right brainspace to notice potential partners around them, does it?

Now let’s move on to the press conference at the end of episode 5 that comprises Yuuri’s journey of exploring love and gives us some more insight into his views on love.

Since the subs are low-key confusing, I’m not quoting them, but you can check this translation to educate yourself on all the nuances that the official translation misses. Particularly interesting is this part:

My love. It’s not [general] love or romantic love that is easy to understand, but my bond with Victor, and the lukewarm way I feel about my family and my local community.

Note that this is the only time the anime uses 恋 ("koi"), probably because he's speaking to a Japanese audience.

This line gives us a univocal idea about how Yuuri feels about the people in his life that are not Viktor, confirming what we’ve could already guess from the story so far: that his relationships never reached a level that is intimate enough to enforce an examination of the subject of love. We tend to take our friends and family for granted, but crushes and falling in love are such hard-to-miss emotions because they take over our existence.

Yuuri’s speech about love as a showcases that he has come a long way from utter cluelessness to the matured and nuanced idea of love that he now explains to his audience. He was able to arrive at this point because his time with Viktor sparked the examination of the subject and draws a clear distinction between his feelings for his family and friends and his feelings for Viktor, which happen to be not lukewarm at all.

A more accurate translation of that line is: “The first person I want to tie myself to and never let go is Viktor” ( 初めて自分から繋ぎ��めたいと思った人、それがヴィクトルです) because 繋ぎとめたい means wanting to tie someone / something to you and never let it go (see this translation error masterpost).

After months of getting to know Viktor intimately, Yuuri has fallen in love with Viktor at last. This feeling is bigger than any emotion he has experienced before because it’s greater than 恋 and 愛 and because of that:

This feeling doesn’t have a name, but I decided to dare to call it “love”.

A hallmark trait of Yuuri is his determination to pursue a goal he committed himself to, even if that requires him to push through his anxiety. For half his life that goal was Viktor, first as an abstract concept and as an ideal to strive for, later as a romantic interest, and he makes sure the world knows.

If Yuuri had had romantic feelings for someone else, he would have pursued this person or ruled out the idea because Viktor was more important and it would have impacted his views on love either way.

To sum this up

Yuuri’s reaction to Viktor asking if he ever thought about love, the glimpses the anime provides into his past, and his words at the press conference indicate that before Viktor, Yuuri has never experience romantic love or even a crush. For if he had, his response and his approach to his season’s theme would have been different.

Since love is the central theme of Yuri!!! On Ice, and Yuuri’s character journey in particular, having experienced feelings of love before, would have a significant impact on the plot.

Or in other words:

Viktor is Yuuri’s first love.

I will discuss the gay-coding of how Yuuri idolises people that inspire him in another post because this seems to be one of the lesser-known facts.

Friendly reminder / disclaimer:

For this analysis I’ve reviewed the entire context of Yuuri’s history with love and ruled out everything that doesn’t withstand scrutiny or makes no sense in the grand scheme of things (aka the canon of YOI as a whole). You are free to headcanon Yuuri as having had crushes or relationships before Viktor, but keep in mind that this would alter the plot.

Friendship, admiration, and aesthetic attraction are often misconstrued as romantic attraction due to allonormative/amatonormative paradigms. When analysing canon, the source material has to be reviewed as a whole.

[pikatrainer99]

Kieran is autistic and you can't change my mind!

Okay, I KNOW that I'm not the only one who holds this headcanon...but I wanted to do an analysis on Kieran anyway, especially since my best friend @sinnohanvulpix said she'd love to see me do one. Credit to her for all the screenshots used btw. The GIFs on the other hand were either found on Google Images or created by me using gifrun.com and these YouTube videos:

I did not use my own footage for this at all...as proof here's what MY character in the game looks like...he has my real name but I tried to make him look like Orange which is why he has the orange eyes 😅

(Sorry for the bad quality btw...taking pictures of my Switch screen is hard 😅)

Okay, now without further ado, let's get started with the analysis!

First, Kieran has a CLEAR special interest in Ogerpon, he admires and looks up to her, he was obsessed with the story of the ogre, he was always trying to go to her den and meet her, he has a meltdown when Ogerpon chooses the player over him, etc. Carmine even says that Kieran "really really REALLY likes the ogre" and that made me think, "Ah! Special interest!"

And then at the end of the Teal Mask he gains a new special interest in getting stronger to beat the player...and he hyperfocuses HARD on that...to the point of it being detrimental to both his physical and mental health, as he was doing nothing but training during that time...he barely ate, barely slept, just trained...and that is not healthy. It's a rare example of media showcasing a special interest being unhealthy and absolutely CONSUMING one's life, and the consequences do actually show for it.

Kieran is very introverted and doesn't know how to make friends very well. I actually think the player is his first friend considering his surprised reaction when the player says they consider him a friend, and following this, he quickly becomes a bit...too attached to the player, as he doesn't quite understand how friendships work.

(This is also such a neurodivergent way to say "I'm so happy I finally have a friend")

He also struggles socially, as is a requirement for autistic people to qualify for a diagnosis. Kieran specifically has a hard time reading social cues, he struggles with making eye contact, he has clear anxiety when talking to people as proven by his little stutter he has at times.

(This is an adorable screenshot 🥺)

He also struggles with social and emotional processing (and might have alexithymia as well due to his sudden huge outbursts of emotion), and he also struggles with initiating conversation as well, as seen when he tries to talk to Penny at the League Club. They both have no idea how to even start a conversation with each other and it's honestly pretty adorable seeing the two quiet adorkable kids trying their best to hold conversation. I get it, you two, initiating conversation is really difficult for me too.

Also the way they try to start the conversation by talking about the weather...that's really funny and ironic to me because that's what NTs do all the time. NTs always use the weather as a small-talk conversation starter but NDs like me (and Kieran and Penny too apparently) just don't get that stuff.

(These two are so neurodivergent it's great and I love them both 🥺)

Kieran also has four in-game animations that I personally see as stimming. The first one is him tapping his fist against his hip when he's thinking or nervous.

(Focus your attention to his hand here and you'll see it.)

The second one is him playing with a strand of loose hair, usually when he's nervous.

(The little nervous side glance at the player is relatable and adorable 🥺)

The third one is a more agitated stim that he only does ONCE in the entire game...and that is tapping the front of his foot on the ground. I do that myself when I'm agitated or impatient, somehow it's comforting, especially since for some reason I really like the way my shoes sound when I tap them on the ground... especially since I got my brand new Infernape-themed shoes, they sound extra satisfying because they're brand new.

(This is not the way most people tap their foot...I've never seen an NT do it like this...only other NDs such as myself and one of my brothers)

The fourth and final one is, unfortunately, a stress stim...Kieran runs his hands very fast through his hair and it also looks like, to me anyway as someone who has self-injurious stims myself, that he is digging his nails into his scalp as well while doing that. I do something similar myself, though on top of running my hands through my hair and digging my nails into my scalp, I also pull at my hair...yeah... self-injurious stims are no joke...and I'm kinda glad Kieran's autism coding brings attention to that aspect of autism...at least in my eyes as someone who does those things myself.

(He's in so much stress here, poor kid 😔)

Another aspect of autism that I'm surprised and kinda glad that Kieran exhibits as an autistic-coded character is meltdowns and shutdowns. Kieran has actual meltdowns in the game! This is something we have never seen in such an in-your-face way in any Pokémon game, and as someone who regularly has meltdowns myself, it hit me in the feels whenever I saw him having them. His first meltdown is in the Teal Mask when he steals the Teal Mask and runs off to Loyalty Plaza where he battles the player. He yells at Carmine and the player for treating him like an outcast...which is unfortunately something that happens to a lot of autistic people, myself included. Kieran screams at the player and Carmine for for lying to him while doing his stress stim, before running up to the Lousy Three's shrine and punching it, without any regard for his safety, which is also something autistic people may do during meltdowns...I know I have no regard for my safety during mine. After that's all over he gives the mask back to the player and goes home, leaving the player to talk to Carmine alone, who says that she's worried and thinks it's just "teen angst". When I saw that I was like, "...Uh, Carmine...I don't think it's just that, I think your brother is neurodivergent and really needs a lot of help and support because he's struggling a lot right now..."

His second meltdown is also in the Teal Mask, when he wants Ogerpon to go with him but Ogerpon wants to go with the player...Kieran can't process that and doesn't understand how to take Ogerpon's feelings into account, instead demanding the player to battle him for the right to be Ogerpon's partner. He collapses on all fours after being defeated again, and it gets worse...he looks like he's crying while the player battles Ogerpon in order to catch her. After the player catches her, Kieran wonders why he can't be like the player, and runs off crying, locking himself in his room for the rest of the story. The end of the Teal Mask has him doing his stress stim while being consumed by a new special interest in a very detrimental way...that interest being becoming so strong that no one can defeat him...including the player.

Kieran's third meltdown is in the Indigo Disk, after the player defeats him in the championship match. That meltdown is a full-on cutscene, where it is CLEAR to see his spiraling mental state through the visuals, and he holds his hands on his head like he has a headache while trying to process the fact that he lost to the player AGAIN (which is also relatable as someone who struggles with processing difficulties myself...it really does give headaches and it is one of the worst feelings when I just can't process what's going on around me or the emotions I feel or anything really)...he collapses to his knees and looks like he's breathing very hard as he is so upset and distressed at this loss. It is definitely one of the most heartbreaking scenes for me because this is a CLEAR CUT MELTDOWN in my eyes and it hits me in the feels like a TRUCK to watch that cutscene.

Also, in the Terapagos fight, Kieran has a bit of a shutdown for a bit, standing there frozen, thinking he's useless and can't do anything right (which is relatable as I have regular shutdowns as well, and I also constantly feel like I'm a failure of a human being who can't do anything right)...but let me tell you, when the player finally gets him to snap out of it and convinces him to help and he opens his eyes revealing that the light is back in his eyes as well as visible tears...I cheered (and teared up myself). My boy was back, and I was so happy.

(When I first saw the tears I was like, "NOOOO don't cry Kieran! 😢)

Also in the Indigo Disk, Kieran seems completely different and "no longer like his usual self". His autistic traits are (mostly) nowhere to be seen as he becomes much more serious, angry, assertive,and aggressive. I personally see this as a persona he puts on by masking, which is common for autistic people to do. I myself can't mask, but Kieran definitely seems to be masking here by putting on this persona in order to get stronger and seem stronger as a person as well. This is NOT his real self, this is a FACADE!

We see him start to drop the mask again in Area Zero when he says it seems like they're in a spy movie or something and how cool that is, but once the crack in his mask is pointed out he immediately puts it back on.

After everything in the under depths ends, and you go back to Blueberry Academy, he drops the mask again completely, and goes back to his real, adorkable, relatable self...and stays that way from then on, which made me so relieved and happy.

(This is my favorite cutscene in the entire DLC because of how adorable it is and also how neurodivergent Kieran is being here while apologizing for all he did 🥺)

In conclusion, I think Kieran is a great example of an autistic-coded character who has many relatable traits, and also does a good job showcasing some of the more "unpleasant and challenging behaviors and traits" (NTs use that terminology a lot, not me... that's how NTs unfortunately view NDs a lot of the time) of autism. I used to be afraid of him during the post-Teal Mask pre-Indigo Disk era but that was my trauma and PTSD talking (I talked about the emotional rollercoaster Kieran's story arc took me on in another post from last year after I finally worked up the courage to play the Indigo Disk...feel free to check that out too if you'd like). Now though I can wholeheartedly say that I love and appreciate Kieran a lot as a character, and his relatability is definitely a big part of why he is a big comfort character for me now (please Pokémon put him in Pokémon Masters EX, PLEASE I will literally cry from joy if he gets added to the game)!

Hope you all enjoyed this autistic person's analysis of yet ANOTHER autistic-coded character in Pokémon! I know I had A LOT to say but that just proves how relatable Kieran is, and I love him for that. Let me know what you think and if I missed anything in the comments below!

[copperbadge]

I was watching hockey earlier today and it got me wondering what sports are played in Askazer-Shivadlakia. Football & surfing’s been mentioned, what else is played in the country? Does it snow enough in the highlands for there to be any winter sports enthusiasts? What’s the state of women’s professional sports? Does the country compete in anything internationally? The Olympics are awful, but does the Ask send a delegation of athletes anyway?

It's not something I've thought a lot about outside of football, I admit, though thinking about the football program has clarified some aspects of it. Mainly I just am not entirely sure how a lot of sports...work, so I kind of stay hands-off.

Askazer-Shivadlakia has never been a super wealthy country. Jason was a bit of a traditionalist and Michaelis was concerned with modernizing but he wasn't an innovator per se, unless pushed; by the end of his reign the country was reaching a point where it had the kind of money to sustain a university or expand its public services fairly radically, but only just. Gregory is a big part of that because he trained as an economist, and while he's only been king for about two years, he's been working in the administration for much longer. He's been able to institute changes that have led to a comfortable surplus in the budget.

So for example, Michaelis wouldn't let the government fund a professional sports team of any kind because the money it would take was already being spent on the youth sports program. He felt that giving kids the chance to play sport was more important than sustaining a team, and said that their athletes were a gift they gave the world. And now that elite players are returning from playing abroad with money and the intention to spend it on supporting a team, his investment is actually, unexpectedly, paying off. Michaelis just wanted the kids of his country to learn self-discipline and good sportsmanship but in doing so he also ensured that if you leave the Ask to seek your fortune as an athlete, once you've got a fortune, you come back home to spend it. And Gregory's work means the government can help.

Football and F1 racing are the two big passion sports the Shivadh follow, though F1 is a fandom, not a pastime. There's decent surfing but that's more a tourist thing. Definitely there are regions that get cold enough for winter sports, but like surfing most of the ski/board sites are tourist-focused, places that ranch dairy cattle in the summer and then host tourists in the winter when the cows are in the warmer lowland pastures. Undoubtedly there are Shivadh snow sport enthusiasts and the country supports them if they compete internationally (both in terms of cheering them on and financially) but there's no program or deep tradition of it. If I ever actually write about those areas extensively that might change, though.

Women's sport has equal support to men's generally, whatever level that might be -- Askazer-Shivadlakia has always been relatively progressive but when Michaelis was elected, Miranda made it her business to push legislation that explicitly protected things like equal funding for women's sport and education and access to birth control and abortion. (She's also the reason weed is legal and Gerald can get Adderall in Europe, where it's banned in a lot of places; there's something to be said for the scion of old conservative nobility who is simply ready to wreck shit.)

There is no golf. Michaelis detests it personally and there's no room for it anyway. If they ever build Askazarama Amusement Park, they might get a mini-golf course.

I don't really know how the Olympics and other international competitions work. If there are talented athletes who want to compete and seem capable of qualifying, there's state funding for them, but there's no formal program where like, the MPs sit down every two years and pick out the top athletes they want to send. Likely most people interested in elite sport competition have to leave the country to train, and represent other countries as a result -- like Paolo in the football novel, who left when he was a young teen to attend a junior academy in France and entered professional play from there.

Shivadh still feel ownership of them, mind you. For example, Felix (the love interest in the football novel) played on the Italian national team and kicked a winning goal in a World Cup for Italy, but Askazer-Shivadlakia consider that cup theirs. A Shivadh did it, ergo it is a Shivadh victory. If an athlete were to say, represent France in an Olympic decathlon and take the gold, they would consider that to be a gold medal for Askazer-Shivadlakia.

The country is very excited about finally having a football team of their own. Shivadh Royal Football Club could lose every game it ever plays and still nobody would let a word be said against them. Fons-Askaz on match day is just a sea of hideous orange Shivadh RFC jerseys that say NARAN JUICE on the front. (Their major sponsor is local juice box and sports drink maker Naran Juice Box Co.)

[catherine-clover]

The longest list of anti-endo sources I've ever seen

While trying to find something else using Tumblr's infamous search engine, I came across this absolute gem:

NINE SOURCES!!! That's a record!! This is incredible!

@radpocalypse, listen. I am about to tear these to shreds, but before I do, I want you to know that you have my respect for not only compiling the longest list of sources I have ever seen an anti-endo provide, and not only doing so seemingly not directly prompted, but typing out every single link by hand, on mobile, without making a single mistake. Incredible work.

And also, to be completely honest, if I had nine sources supporting a belief, I almost certainly wouldn't look into them this closely. But, hey, that's what strangers on the internet with opposing views are for.

One more thing before the debunk: Endogenic systems do not claim to have DID etc. without trauma. They just don't. Whether it could be possible is often debated as an edge case, usually just to win an argument against someone of the opposing side, but really, it's irrelevant for 99% of the community. A good chunk are questioning OSDD based on later trauma, but as far as I am aware, no one on this website is claiming a completely endogenic plural disorder.

However, I don't want to dismiss entire pages based on this alone without further commentary, and it's a fun intellectual exercise regardless. So, whenever I use green text, I'm just playing Devil's Advocate under the premise of "If I was claiming to have DID without trauma (which neither I nor anyone else afaik is), would this source actually debunk that claim?" My syster will also occasionally pop in with purple, since she was cocon while I was writing this.

My dad just walked into my room and literally said "hey how it's going". You know, like. Like that one post. Amazing.

Anyway, civility established. Now come along with me on this long long journey of ten minutes of reading. Maybe put some music on in the background, if that will help you get through it. I had Near's Theme on while writing.

Here we go.

Link 1: McLean Hospital

Ok, main thing that caught my eye was

According to a 2010 Psychiatric Times article, only 5% of people with DID exhibit obvious switching between identity “states.”

Very interesting! Even with all of the "idk who's fronting" memes, 5% is really not that high. Though maybe online spaces like these help train the ability to identify it? The reference trail leads back to a book by Kluft but I don't really feel like going through dozens of pages for this. Definitely making a note of this though; I wonder if there have been any follow-up studies on this.

Not much to say here other than that. No mention of plurality outside DID.

DID is associated with long-term exposure to trauma, often chronic traumatic experiences during early childhood.

Dissociation—or disconnection from one’s sense of self or environment—can be a response to trauma.

Dissociative identity disorder—a type of dissociative disorder—most often develops during early childhood in kids who are experiencing long-term trauma. This typically involves emotional, physical, and/or sexual abuse; neglect; and highly unpredictable interactions with caregivers.

Why "associated", not "is caused by"? Why "can", not "is"? Why "most often", etc.?

Why such weak language?

Not that it couldn't be weaker.

I vaguely remember McLean getting into some hot water regarding a video they posted about DID, but didn't find anything concrete. Half-remembered anecdote aside, the author seems well-qualified.

C-tier debunk of this position. It's not nothing but it could be a lot better.

Link 2: Psych Central

It occurs in women 9 times more often than in men.

Very interesting statistic, but no citation provided.

Alters can show striking differences. For instance, one alter may speak with a different accent or have a softer way of speaking. They might have different opinions or a different gender identity, and even physical differences — like left- or right-handedness, or the need for a glasses prescription.

That's quite a stark difference here compared to the McLean article. What happened to "alters aren't that noticeable"?

But whatever, these are just interesting tidbits. None of this has anything to do with endogenic plurality. Nothing like "this is the only way to be multiple", no comment whatsoever.

DID is usually associated with adverse experiences in someone’s past and traumatic memories.

Dissociative identity disorder (DID) is a mental health condition with strong links to trauma, especially trauma in childhood.

Bruh. This again?

In fact, the American Psychiatric Association reports that 90% of people with DID have a history of childhood abuse and neglect, based on research from the United States, Canada, and Europe.

Bruh. Seriously? 90%? You know what that leaves, right?

According to your own source, 10% of DID systems are endogenic.

But let's break this down. There's a big difference between the system being endogenic, and the DID being endogenic. This statistic is specifically referring to childhood trauma.

The wording's plenty vague though. This can absolutely be read as completely endogenic DID.

One review article from 2017 about the causes of DID noted that there was relatively little research on the condition to date.

The authors said researchers hadn’t yet investigated potential genetic and epigenetic factors. With epigenetic factors, the experiences and behaviors of your parents and ancestors can influence the function of the genes they pass down to you.

The authors of the review said scientists needed to do more research to investigate whether a person with DID might carry genes that can influence if they develop the condition or not.

This is particularly promising because studies have already shown that genes can influence dissociative disorders in general.

So you're telling me DID might be able to be passed down one or two generations? Wow. Again, this still has nothing to do with endogenic plurality, but I'm really glad I decided to play with this second angle, because it's so much more fun. We're certainly not at intentional self-inflicted DID here, but we are at this point a long way from certainly needing childhood trauma in all cases.

And also the reviewer is a military psychiatrist who specializes in ADHD. So uh. Not bringing our best here.

Link 3: Mayo Clinic

Gotta love an article that's nice and short. This is just a brief summary of a bunch of dissociative disorders. Again, nothing about endogenic plurality.

Starting to run out of things to say about this. This whole post could probably be a fifth the length if I didn't feel like playing on hard mode.

Formerly known as multiple personality disorder, this disorder involves "switching" to other identities. You may feel as if you have two or more people talking or living inside your head. You may feel like you're possessed by other identities.

Each identity may have a unique name, personal history and features. These identities sometimes include differences in voice, gender, mannerisms and even such physical qualities as the need for eyeglasses.

Hey, that reminds me of someone.

There also are differences in how familiar each identity is with the others. Dissociative identity disorder usually also includes bouts of amnesia and often includes times of confused wandering.

Again, McLean looking really odd with its declaration of DID's covertness against great detail like this. However, its author is so far the best qualified. This one just says "Mayo Clinic Staff". Can't even know which of them worked on this. Some of them are psychs, but if any of them specialize in dissociative disorders, it doesn't say so.

Dissociative disorders usually arise as a reaction to shocking, distressing or painful events and help push away difficult memories.

I won't bother quoting even more wishy-washy language because this post is already at an ungodly length (about 1300 words so far) and we're barely a third done. But yeah, suffice to say, no nail-in-the-coffin 100% link to trauma.

Link 4: Rethink

We are a trusted information creator and accredited by the Patient Information Forum (PIF).

Their bold, for once. That's an alarm-ringing corporate phrase if I've ever seen one. Also, first thing on the PIF's website is "balancing the risks and benefits of AI in the production of health information". So this article might've been written by GPT. Awesome. And yeah, a lot of this whole website looks to me like a bunch of interconnected pages with stupidly long articles written by stitching together LLM generations. Does pass GPT0's test though.

This one is so long. I'll take the ten minutes to read through every word, which I don't think @radpocalypse did, just to make sure there's nothing here, but one thing that does catch my eye scrolling down to near the bottom is that they misspelled their first citation.

A quick look at this Carolyn Spring shows a lot being sold and credentials nowhere in sight. Awesome.

So already I don't need to read this. The information here is not at a high level of trustworthiness. It's maybe better than nothing, but seriously, one can and should do better. But I'll read it anyway, just for bonus points. Thanks to AccelaReader for making this bearable.

Many people will experience dissociation at some point in their lives. Lots of different things can cause you to dissociate. For example, you might dissociate when you are very stressed, or after something traumatic has happened to you.

Some of the symptoms of dissociation include the following:

You may have clear multiple identities.

It‘s important to remember that you could have the symptoms of dissociation without a dissociative disorder.

So according to this, multiple identities can be caused by intense but non-traumatic stress, and might not necessarily be a disorder. So, while I admit this is a little bit of a stretch, we're four links in and this is the first mention of plurality in general, so I'll take it. One point for endogenic plurality. (And again, none of this really matters anyway because this is the worst source so far.)

Dissociative identity disorder (DID) is sometimes called ‘Multiple Personality Disorder.

If you have DID you might seem to have 2 or more different identities, called ‘alternate identities.

Two missing closing quotes. Really not a good sign.

They suggest that DID is caused by experiencing severe trauma over a long time in childhood.

Aha! Finally, something concrete against endogenic DID! Too bad it's buried in the worst source yet. If we believed we had DID, we would absolutely not reconsider that based on a sketchy webpage with suboptimal syntax and no credentials.

Ugh, finally done with that one. What a slog.

Link 5: DID Research

Aha! The infamous psych student's blog! That's what Sophie said, anyway. Not taking her word for it though. Let's see what we can find here, independently.

Dissociative identity disorder (DID) is the result of repeated or long-term childhood trauma

Why wasn't this first? First sentence, so crystal clear. No two ways about this, transDID destroyed right out of the gate.

DID cannot form after ages 6-9 because individuals older than these ages have an integrated self identity and history.

Why wasn't this first? It's so plain, so refreshing after four pages of strategic ambiguity. Nothing left here for green. But still no mention of non-disordered plurality.

The author is impressively credentialed but doesn't seem to specialize quite near this area. She's certainly better than most, high above any random Tumblr user talking out of their ass, but the good stuff would be to get a DID specialist to explicitly spell out that endogenic systems are not possible.

Also should make note of this big fat legal disclaimer:

While the author strives to make information on this website as complete, reliable, and accurate as possible, the author makes no claims, promises, guarantees, or warranties about the accuracy, completeness, or adequacy of the contents of this site and expressly disclaims liability for errors and omissions in the contents of this site.

If we did claim to have DID, this would rattle us a little but could ultimately be brushed aside.

Link 6: SANE

As usual, literally nothing about endogenic plurality. I'll just greenmode this.

The majority of people with DID have been through severe trauma in early childhood

And now back to our regularly scheduled nondefinitive language.

Fun fact: highlighting text on this website turns it invisible. Awesome.

A person needs to meet the following criteria to be diagnosed with DID:

- Two or more distinct identities or personality states, each with its own way of thinking and relating. - Amnesia and gaps in the recall of everyday events, personal information or traumatic events. - The experiences are not part of normal cultural or religious practice, or part of childhood imaginary play. For example, a child having an imaginary friend does not mean they have DID. - The symptoms are not because of substance abuse or other medical conditions.

Ah finally, a direct quote from the good ol' DSM. Notice the lack of a trauma requirement.

Funny enough, using only these criteria in isolation, we actually would count as having DID due to our grayout memory gaps when switching. DID is also listed in the dissociative disorders section of the DSM, not the trauma disorders section, so there is no implied criterion there either. However, there still remains the universal criterion of distress, which we do not fulfill. We are quite happy with ourselves.

DID is caused by severe childhood trauma, such as physical, verbal or sexual abuse.

Well, which is it?? Is it a majority association or a direct cause? Why the contradiction? Or is the emphasis on early childhood trauma?

Eh, whatever. Point is, green is once again shut down. But there is still no mention of endogenic plurality anywhere here!!

And no indication of who wrote this article, though the citation for direct cause is a dissociative disorder specialist. Does he actually say that in the cited paper, though?

Dissociative identity disorder (DID) is multifactorial in its etiology. Whereas psychosocial etiologies of DID include developmental traumatization and sociocognitive sequelae, biological factors include trauma-generated neurobiological responses. Biologically derived traits and epigenetic mechanisms are also likely to be at play. At this point, no direct examination of genetics has occurred in DID. However, it is likely to exist, given the genetic link to dissociation in general and in relation to childhood adversity in particular.

I hope you have a dictionary on hand. That sure is a lot of big words that aren't in Firefox's built-in spellchecker. Still, after making sure I got everything, it's clearly not so cut and dry here. And we're back on the "it could be genetic" point.

Tangentially related: I do like the dismissal of the iatrogenic model on the basis of the brain scans.

Neurobiological differences have been demonstrated between dissociative identities within patients with DID and between patients with DID and controls. Given the current evidence, DID as a diagnostic entity cannot be explained as a phenomenon created by iatrogenic influences, suggestibility, malingering, or social role-taking. On the contrary, DID is an empirically robust chronic psychiatric disorder based on neurobiological, cognitive, and interpersonal non-integration as a response to unbearable stress.

Anyway, we're not even on the original page anymore, so I'll call it here. No mention of endogenic plurality, and the citation that claims to dismiss endogenic DID doesn't.

Link 7: NAMI Michigan

While the causes [of DID] are unknown

I'm tired. Aren't you tired?

Treatment for DID consists primarily of psychotherapy with hypnosis.

Yeah I'm calling BS on this one

And no citations on this entire page, nor even the author's name.

Statistics show that DID occurs in 0.01 to 1 percent of the general population.

Research has shown that the average age for the initial development of alters is 5.9 years old.

No sources listed. This is definitely the worst link. Literally on the same level as a rambling Tumblr user in terms of credibility.

Doesn't matter that it says

This disorder is believed to be triggered by physical or sexual abuse in childhood

Couldn't even get this dogshit source to be firm.

This one gets an F.

Link 8: The Psychology Practice

Got scared for a moment there that it said ai. No, that's AL, a name. Also this was written in 2022, so we're definitely safe. Can't actually find any other info on this AL character, but at least we can look up the co-author.

Hm, can't find anything on her, either. Well, at least this is a step up from the previous link. Let's see what it has to say.

According to the Dissociative Identity Research Organisation (2018), DID is formed in childhood due to repeated trauma in early childhood (before age 10) before the personality is fully integrated.

I do like that these later links are direct with this. They don't seem to have a citation for that DIRO, though. Unless...

No. Oh no.

Ok, so this one was written by a couple of clowns who definitely didn't do their homework. Cool. I'm getting tired of humoring awful sources like this, so moving on to the grand finale.

Link 9: NAMI

Wait, this is the same group behind the zero-citation article from Michigan! But that was just Michigan. Maybe the main site can do better.

Ugh, it's just another list of dissociative disorders instead of DID specifically.

The symptoms of a dissociative disorder usually first develop as a response to a traumatic event,

Aren't you tired? Aren't you tired? Aren't you tired?

Often these identities may have unique names, characteristics, mannerisms and voices.

Often? Wow. Sure is a far cry from 5%.

Dissociative disorders are managed through various therapies including: - Psychotherapies such as cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) and dialectical behavioral therapy (DBT) - Eye movement desensitization and reprocessing (EMDR) - Medications such as antidepressants can treat symptoms of related conditions

No mention of hypnosis, allegedly the primary method of treatment?? (/sarc)

and there was no mention of plurality being exclusive to dissociative disorders

Oh, and no listed authors either.

So, after three thousand words of analysis, all we've come up with are nothing burgers, dogshit, and dogshit nothing burgers. Out of nine links, only one briefly and indirectly touched on endogenic plurality, and it was in favor. Even the argument against the traumaless DID strawman is weak at best. These sources are bad, to put it lightly.

@radpocalypse, if you're reading this, firstly, thank you for powering through your ADHD and dyslexia to read thousands of words dunking on your masterpiece. Secondly, if you have any more sources that you think are backing you, feel free to send them my way. Just uh, maybe read them more closely next time?

And that goes for everyone here. If you think you have a better source, or if I made a mistake or missed something here, I am open to correction. I am open to the idea that I'm wrong and I have some unknown trauma to work through, but I certainly won't go digging unless I have good reason to believe it's there, and I haven't seen any good reason. And if you haven't either, maybe it's time to reconsider your position.

One last thing before I go.

Have you ever actually seen a pro-endo carrd, let alone one cited in standalone? I haven't.

Here's a much longer list of much better sources than yours supporting endogenic plurality compiled by the traumagenic Guardians System. I don't expect you to read anywhere near the whole thing; just pick a few links at random. And yes, while many of them are peer-reviewed papers, some of them are Tumblr posts, but those Tumblr posts cite peer-reviewed papers, so it's all good.

Thanks for reading.

[searchforahero]

Hi!! I just came across your competitive swimming DickTim thoughts and I adore the world you’re building there!! The image of Tim wearing Dick’s chlorine and mildew parka because Dick said he should is In My Brain. Firmly.

Do you have any other thoughts you’d like to share for that universe?

Either way, thank you so much for sharing and have a lovely day!

omg i'm so glad you asked this is like my fav AU! (here and here)

i do indeed have a lot of thoughts!!! competitive swimming AUs are my all time favorites to make.

for general AU stuff (dicktim thoughts are below this if you're just here for those o7):

bruce used to be a competitive swimmer when he was a kid, so was martha so she put him in it

when they died he stopped swimming and withdrew into himself. the gotham swim club eventually became very run down and eventually closed

when bruce takes in dick he invests in re-opening the swim club and renovating the pool so dick will have a way to burn off energy and they'll hopefully have a way to connect with each other

the club is soon restored to it's former glory and dick is absolutely their star athlete

bruce isn't qualified to be the head coach or anything, so he doesn't coach dick anymore, but he coaches some of the newer and younger kids until they move up through the groups

helena is still a teacher but she also coaches swimming after work, she mostly works with kids of intermediate level who have been with the club for a while but aren't quite ready to be with the fastest training group. she still trains masters too and is a high level athlete in the region

her and bruce frequently clash regarding the best way to train the swimmers and the structure of the club (bruce has a fair bit of control in this regard as the primary investor for the club)

catherine doesn't die in this AU because. i want her and jason to have good things.

catherine used to pay for memberships each summer at the community pool and jason loved swimming, but then the great recession hit and they had to stop (because this is set in the 2000s-2010s dont worry about it lol)

however, she found out about a program WE was doing to make it possible for more kids to join the gotham swim club and was able to sign him up

jason adores racing, and he's good at it too

he doesn't really connect with any of his teammates super well so he usually ends up sitting by the coaches table and writing down splits for bruce during meets or talking to bruce

he is absolutely 100% bruce's favorite kid he coaches but he doesn't let people Know that

eventually when jasons old enough he gets a job assistant coaching for the younger groups

tim joins the swim club. this has nothing to do with an article in the paper about gotham's rising star swimmer who just happens to be the same boy he met at the circus when he was a little kid or anything. nope

dick is tim's coach for his first two years with the club, but he improves so quickly that soon he's training alongside jason and dick in the fastest training group. he's one of the younger athletes in the group but he has dick watching his back so he gets on with everyone pretty well

steph's been in water polo since she was a little kid and sometimes she had to hang around at the pool before or after practice since her mom was at work. she spent a lot of that time watching the other swimmers and chatting with the coaches. as a result her and jason are friends

she hit tim in the face with a water polo ball by accident while training in the deep pool, smushing his goggles into his face and leaving a nasty red mark. this is how they first met

bruce adopts cass and brings her to the pool with him when he has practice, expecting that she'll probably want to join the swim club, but she sees the synchro team practising in the deep pool and is immediately enamoured

she likes to pop under the lane rope to race with the swimmers. her breath control is insane, even among other synchro swimmers and she loves using this to just go back and forth underwater and pop up behind her friends

league of assassins is a private swim club now. because i said so. damian is their best athlete even for his age and it's almost guaranteed he'll be going to the olympics once he's old enough

he has to move in with bruce when he's about 10-12, dick ends up doing a lot of training with him 1-1 so he wont fall behind while not training with talia

not sure what i want to do with duke and babs (my two favs... how did this happen...) yet for this AU but i will post about them as soon as i know...

Best Races:

bruce: 100m freestyle dick: 100m butterfly helena: 400m IM jason: 200m backstroke tim: 200m butterfly steph: no specific race but breaststroke cass: 200m butterfly, she also doesn't race but her breath control makes her cracked at this damian: 200 IM

(200m butterfly over-representation means nothing and says nothing about me)

More Dicktim:

tim became a butterflyer because he watched dick do the 100m butterfly on TV and was immediately obsessed. he is actually naturally better at breaststroke

dick and tim will get in the pool after practice and just do laps chatting and kicking or treading water side by side

when tim first travelled for a competition dick was determined to make it an Experience and so they ended up hitting a lot of landmarks after the race was over also and tim has an entire photo album dedicated to that weekend because he took so many pictures

once they're adults tim lives closer to the pool than dick so dick frequently crashes at his place the night before early training or a competition so "he doesn't have to commute as far" (so he can hang out with tim)

this has resulted in many an early morning of them getting ready together in exhausted silence

they lead a training camp abroad together and share a room for the entire week long trip it is a whole Thing (i should write a fic about this actually... hrmm...)

[intimidating-fettuccine]

How about, a child reader who has a dangerous ability that they don’t really have a good grasp at? For characters I’m thinking Jeff, Tim and Helen? (I think that made sense? Thank you if so.) -🧶

I wasn't sure if you wanted the reader to actually be their child or not, so I just sort of went the platonic older brother figure route.

Jeff:

Feels like he is REALLY not qualified for this, but he does his best to look out for you and make sure that you're not hurting yourself or others and getting into danger. Jeff is better at teaching you how to calm down and control yourself, rather than actually teaching you how to control and use your powers. Jeff tends to get worked up and have anxiety and anger issues sometimes, so he works with you to make sure you're able to keep yourself calm, so you don't get too anxious or angry and accidentally lash out at someone with your powers. He does worry about you a lot, especially with you being so young, so he tries to spend a lot of time with you, making sure that you're feeling cared for and that you're doing alright. Jeff is a pretty good big brother, and so he makes sure to take good care of you, although, if you do end up using your powers for reasons you shouldn't be, especially if it's done intentionally, he is going to lecture you about it, because if your safety or someone else's is at risk that is a situation he doesn't want you to be in, and so he makes sure you get it into your mind that dangerous abilities are not to be used randomly, and that you should only use them for your own safety in a dangerous situation.

Tim:

Probably the most well equipped to be caring for someone in a situation like this. I think that Tim would actually try his best to be there to help you and comfort you with learning how to control your abilities. I can see him asking Slender if he can join in on a few of your training sessions so he can see how Slender is teaching you, and so that he can help teach you himself too, and that way if you're ever struggling or something goes wrong he knows what he can do to help calm you down and make sure that you're safe and okay. Tim makes sure you know that you can always go to him for questions if you have any, and that if he doesn't know the answer he can take you to Slender as well. He's a really good older brother/father figure, and he takes care of you as if you're one of his own. Tim makes sure to check in with you mentally too, as he's heard from the others that it can be harder to control their powers when they're stressed out and anxious, so Tim likes to sit down and check in that you're doing okay, that you're still a happy kid having a good time, and that nothing is bothering you, and if something is bothering you he'll help you in any way that he can. He just wants you to be safe and sound, and so he'll do his best to keep you that way.

Helen:

Helen did not ask to be in this situation, but he's here now, so he guesses he just has to deal with it. Helen never asked to be an older brother figure to you, but when you look to him for help and comfort with that squishy little face of yours he doesn't have the energy to say no. Helen isn't the best at helping people learn how to control their abilities, but he does ask Puppeteer for help every now and then (since Pup had to learn how to use his own powers), and he'll sit outside with you and watch as you practice and try and get more comfortable using your powers. If you ever get hurt he'll ask that you stop for the day, and he'll bandage you up and make sure to remind you not to overdo it because he doesn't like seeing you get hurt or stressed out. It becomes pretty routine for him to sit outside and draw while you train, whether you're training by yourself or with someone like Slender or Pup, and both of them tend to report to Helen that you seem to be doing better when he's sitting out there with you, so he does his best to be there for you. If anyone asks him his opinion of you, he's quick to call you a troublesome little pipsqueak, but everyone can tell from his actions that he does truly care for and worry about you, and he just wants the best for you since life like this isn't an easy one.

[waterfire1848]

Au where azula and zuko are turned into kids and the gaang finds them

Hello, anon!!!

During the Chase, the Gaang is fighting Azula in the abandoned town when she and Zuko are thrown into a nearby building by one of Toph’s earthbending moves. (Iroh decides to hang back and is not with them during this battle). The group waits for them to get back up and attack and to continue the fight but nothing happens. Curious, Aang goes over and finds a three and five year old in the abandoned building under the planks. He, of course, helps them and the Gaang realize that they can’t just leave them there so they decide to take the kids with them. (It’s a good kidnapping). Both Azula and Zuko don’t remember them so they’re just really scared and upset and they want to go home. Everyone is really just doing whatever they can to keep them calm because they’re freaking out a little too. Neither of them can really firebend yet so they just have to deal with the two trying to run away or kicking them. (Katara: We’ll take you both home later. We promise. Azula: Home! Now! I want dad! Katara: I know and you’ll go home soon but you can't run off the sky bison. Azula: *Pouts* Sokka: Aren’t you two tired? You could try sleeping? Zuko: Nope! Sokka: Of course you won't sleep.)

With no other plan in mind, the Gaang decide to keep them until Aang can find a way to turn them back or they can give them to someone more qualified. While they have them, Toph still trains Aang and Zuko follows Sokka on his adventure to get food. (Sokka: Zuko! Great! Go get Aang or Toph or Katara and tell them I’m stuck. Zuko: No. You wanted to eat Fluffy. Sokka: Fluffy? Zuko, pointing to the saber tooth moose lion cub: Fluffy is safe. Sokka: I promise not to eat Fluffy. Now will you please help me out. Zuko: No! Sokka: Wha-No??? Zuko: No! *Sits down in front of him* I’m gonna make sure you don’t hurt Fluffy. Sokka: Gonna be a long day for both of us, kid.) The two are also with them when they lose Appa. Since Sokka is a bit drunk on cactus juice, Katara is now responsible for the entire group and two little kids. Azula is young enough that Katara can carry her but Zuko quickly starts to grow tired too and can’t keep up with everyone. (Toph: I got him. Katara: Toph, you can’t carry- Toph, throwing Zuko on her back: Don't fall off, kid! Katara: I guess that works.). During this time, they also get to see a bit of what Azula and Zuko were like when they were young, before Ozai forced them to compete with one another. Granted, they didn't know much about the two before this but seeing them play tag, play with each other in the sand or talk about how this reminds them of trips to Ember Island is both incredibly adorable and weird.

Getting into Ba Sing Se is not as difficult this time around since, while the drill is there, Team Azula is not. Sokka remains behind on the wall to watch Azula and Zuko while the others go down and stop the drill. While they're on the wall, they get really excited and a little scared to know that the giant city in front of them is Ba Sing Se. They think that they'll definitely see their uncle since he's been talking about eventually launching an attack on it soon (Sokka is very quick to tell them that they probably shouldn't go around saying their uncle is the Dragon of the West). In Ba Sing Se, Azula and Zuko get to sneak off for a little bit and sneak into a play because they actually recognize the theater. Aang ends up finding them right before the last act. (Aang: Everyone is worried sick about you two. Zuko & Azula: We're sorry. Aang: Come on. Azula: No! Please! Zuko: It's almost over! We want to see the ending! Aang:.....Katara's gonna kill me.) (Curse adorable baby eyes). Again, this is really when the group sees Azula and Zuko as actual kids. Not soldiers, not firebenders, not the Fire Lord's children, just kids. Azula loves dragons, reading, messing around with rich people with Toph, and will sit and listen to Sokka talk about battle plans for hours. Zuko, shocking Katara, tries to help out when she's making dinner and will happily agree to go with Aang whenever he and Katara go into town for food. Aang still doesn't know how to turn them back but the Gaang isn't exactly hating that it's taking him longer than expected. (They do hate that the two flinch a lot when they think they've made someone mad and will cry because the lighting sounds like someone shouting).

Of course Long Feng is still around being himself so the Gaang has to deal with him as well. They make sure to keep the three and five year old close to them since they don't really trust Jet around them but they trust Long Feng and the Dai Li even less. During the fight in Lake Laogai, Sokka is hurt while protecting Zuko and Azula but they decide to continue going forward and telling the Earth King about Long Feng. However, after Long Feng is revealed and imprisoned, Sokka is sent to the palace healer and forced to rest there until Katara says he's all healed. Since Azula clearly isn't taking over Ba Sing Se at any point in the near future, the Gaang doesn't have to worry about that. Instead, Aang gets to go to the Eastern Air Temple to visit the guru, Toph gets to try and see her mom (emphasis on try) and Katara and Sokka remain behind in Ba Sing Se but send a letter to their dad telling him they're in the city. Despite being technically on bedrest, Sokka still tries to go to the war meetings to plan for the invasion. (Sokka, opens the door and sees Zuko and Azula standing outside: Hey, guys. I need to pass. Azula: Kat told us to keep you inside. Zuko: You can't leave. Sokka: This is adorable but I really do have to go and talk to- Zuko: NO! Back to bed! Sokka: Zuko, you need to move so that I can get- Azula: TARA! TARA! Sokka's trying to leave! Sokka: Okay, okay, okay. I'll go back to bed. Happy? Azula: Yup! 😁).

While at the Eastern Air Temple, Aang discovers a way to fix Zuko and Azula. Since he doesn't have to run off to save Katara this time around, Aang is able to finish the guru's teaching and then returns to Ba Sing Se. When he gets there, he tells Katara and Sokka about the cure he found and the three agree to turn Zuko and Azula back as soon as they can. (Sokka: I'm gonna miss them. Katara: Yeah. They're cute when they're not trying to actively capture and/or murder us.). However, before Aang can do this, Long Feng escapes from prison thanks to the Dai Li and captures both of the siblings, threatening to kill them unless the Gaang stand down which they agree to do and get themselves captured. Long Feng then captures the King but has him remain as a figurehead while he resumes doing all the work behind the scenes. Captured, the Gaang decide to break out of the city because they desperately need the Earth Kingdom's support for the invasion. However, when they do eventually escape (thanks to Toph and her gifts of metalbending and arriving when I say she is) they discover that Long Feng has been talking with Ozai and the Fire Nation army is on their way. This leaves the Gaang with a difficult decision. They know Ba Sing Se can stand against the Fire Nation but if Long Feng is working to help them get inside the city then the city doesn’t stand a chance. Their options are to either stay and fight and hope that they can defeat Long Feng and all the Dai Li in time to prevent the Fire Nation from coming or flee and avoid capture but let the Fire Nation take the city. (Katara: Aang- Aang: We’re not abandoning the city! We can’t! Sokka: Aang, they’re too close. We don’t have a choice. The Fire Nation will be here in less than a day and if we’re here we’ll be captured. You’ll be captured. Aang: We can stop the Dai Li and Long Feng before then. I know we can. Sokka: And what if we can’t. Remember Omashu? Living to fight another day is our best option.) With no other choice, the Gaang flee the city with the king and young kids and go to Hakoda’s ships with the promise to come back and defeat the Fire Nation during the solar eclipse.