#and again the perspective of any person who needs descriptions is very welcome here!!

[silly-inky]

Art class

(Booigi (king boo x Luigi) post)

(Quick note from op at the end)

I have made the headcanons before that Luigi models for Peach’s painting’s and it’s coming into play here (there are random perspective changes so I do apologize)

Anyway’s

Peach had to watch the Koopalings again as Bowser had a very important meeting to attend with both Kamek and Kammy so he needed someone to watch the kids (this is not a ship, this is purely Peach helping Bowser out because she has free time and she loves the kids)

For the most part Peach can still do her own thing while keeping an eye on the rowdy bunch, so she is able to do some painting as they play outside, as they are all outside Luigi is sat in chair opposite peach posing for her as she paints, he’s in a nice summer dress with a straw hat.

The kids wonder over one by one to ask what she and Luigi are doing and decide to start painting with Peach, she gives them all a sketch pad with some pencils and paints while Luigi takes a quick break to stretch his legs and get some food and then models for them all.

By the end of the day when bowser comes to collects the kids, they all show off their paintings of Luigi, Bowser think it would be a nice activity to join in and the kids gave it a go so if it’s something he can do to bond with his kids he’s going to do it.

The word slowly spreads of this growing art class/group within the royals, so whenever there are royal meetings or gatherings where they all come to visit Peach, after the meeting they all sit in a hall as Luigi poses for them, which is very nerve wrecking for him at first but he warms up to it as no one insults him, he gets to wear nice dresses, it’s helping with him stage fright, plus he lives to see all the paintings made of him, some being traditional, some more abstract, but in the end he’s glad that in some way he helped create those.

Now for the Booigi, King Boo gets wind of this, either through E.Gadd, or hearing it said casually at one of the races. Now King Boo being King Boo, he loves to paint, he loves Luigi, he loves to (peacefully now that him nd E.Gafd are on alright terms) terrorise Luigi, why not combine 3 of his favourite things together? So he decides to start attending his royal meetings purely so he can be in the art classes

Peach welcomes him in giving him a place to sit/float with all the equipment he needs (not what he personally uses but they will do for now, he’ll have to recommend the princess the brand he uses, or at least bring his own next time) and waits for Luigi to come in a pose.

Not to mention seeing Luigi in a dress, now that would make his day, it wasn't much of a secret he had a thing for the green plumber after all, he hasn’t really seen Luigi in anything but his overall’s before, but he’s heard from the other royalty he looks quite lovely in them, in fact sometimes Luigi would be gifted dress by the respective Kings, Queens, Princes and Princesses either to wear for the next meeting or as a gift. He heard that a few of them have even made it a competition to see who can get him the most loveliest dress. Poor Luigi loves all the new dresses but has to leave them with peach as he has no room for them at home

King Boo was pulled from his thoughts when he heard Prince Jr whisper next to him “Luigi’s coming in now, you should probably get your paints ready”. As he thanked the little Prince for the heads up he looks around to see the plumber clad in green, only he wasn't in green. Luigi entered to room and took his place in the middle of the room were he could easily be viewed by all, and what a sight he was.

(Sorry for the long description here) He had his hair up in a messy bun with a few face framing pieces falling beautifully around his face (my Luigi has long hair) and his dress was a lovely snow white, if he didn’t know any better it almost looked like a wedding dress, well he looked more like princess with the style of dress but the white immediately reminded him of a traditional wedding gown. It was floor length, and had layers of tool that made it look as if it was light as a cloud and as flowy as air, the bodice was decorated with patterns of flowers and snowflakes in intricate lace, it was off the shoulders and the sleeves were made out of the same tools used on top of the skirt. He was wearing pearls to keep it some what simple, which were also pinned in his hair. He looked breath taking to say the least.

Princess Peach stood up and began to speak “thank you again Luigi for agreeing to our model, and if I remember correctly this dress was gifted to you by King Penguin yes?”

“yes it was I and my wife that gifted it to him, when I showed her the paintings that I had made of Luigi, she insisted on having our finest seamstresses make him a dress inspired off of our kingdom” King Penguin beamed

“That’s lovely to hear, but why not blue? That’s the colour you and your people typically wear is it not?” Princess Peach asked

“It is but my wife insisted on making something that would truly stand out amongst the blue, and as nobody else had suggest a white dress for Luigi to wear she quickly had commissioned to be made for the next time I visit your kingdom Princess. She did want to accompany me but unfortunately she got a bit caught up in some personal matters *ahem* a surprise visit from her lovely sister ” He replied

“Well hopefully she can join us next time, and I must agree with her, Luigi does indeed look lovely in white” the Princess said as she tried to stifle the small laugh trying to force itself out of her from the King’s last remark

“I am happy to help Princess, and send my thanks to the Queen for those beautiful gift Penguin, and your seamstresses as well of course” Luigi spoke out, seeing Peach struggle to keep in the laugh he too was holding back

“Anyways Luigi would you like to get yourself comfortable, you are free to do any pose you’d like” Peach affirmed before re-joining the other royals and taking a seat

Luigi laid down on his side on the chaise longue, facing towards them, he had his arm resting on the arm rest of the chaise, he put on a more still face that way it wouldn’t be hard to keep pulling the same expression, he decided to look around the room to find somewhere to rest his eyes on, and that’s when he made eye contact with King Boo

He was utterly entranced with Luigi, and when Luigi looked at him he had to fight away his boo urge to cover he eyes from embarrassment. Luigi just looked.. well gorgeous would be an understatement, he could feel his dead heart beat in his chest and his face flush as he saw a sly smirk cross Luigi’s face before it returned to its neutral look it had before, but it looked like Luigi had decided to rest his eyes for the hour long class.

As the class ended Luigi got up to stretch and talk with his friends before making his way over to the ghostly King who was busy cleaning up his supplies in a flustered rush, to only then be started by a tap on his shoulder

He looked down to see Luigi smiling in that beautiful white dress staring straight up at him

“ hey KB, did you enjoy your time here today? You look awfully flushed” Luigi teased

“ I did, not my preferred brand of paint but it will do for now, I’m fine I’ve just got ghost fever” the King lied

“Ghost fever huh? Well that’s too bad does that mean you can’t stick around for about longer? Peach has made cakes and biscuits for all of us, I’d really like you to stay but if you have to go it’s fine..” Luigi out on a fake disappointed tone, but nonetheless the King fell for it

“Well it’s not to bad! Just made me a bit flushed is all, I can stick around if you want, I’m in no rush” King Boo sputtered out trying to keep a calm tone but his mind was racing just a a bit to fast for him to catch up with

“Oh that would be amazing! Thank you so much” Luigi said as he returned to his usual cheery tone as he hugged the Boo’s arm

“Oh don’t thank me it’s nothing, plus I still sort of have to make it up to you after the whole peace thingy I made with E.Gadd” King Boo said, trying to play it off, he couldn’t help the look of destabilise on his face though when he manticores E.Gadd

“Well that goes both ways, I need to apologise too, I never meant to get your boo’s involved” Luigi said with a smile

“You were doing what you thought was the only thing you could do, I don’t really blame you for that. Anyway’s we can talk about that later, let’s not sour the mood” He replied

“Fair enough, though I have to ask, what do you think of my dress?” Luigi implored before stepping back and doing a little twirl for the Boo

“ You -IT looks amazing! It looks beautiful” The King tensed

“Do you think I pull it off? I’m not sure if white is really my colour” Luigi Pressed

“You look good” is what he said but what he actually wanted to say was “you look breath taking, I wasn’t aware anyone could look this handsome and beautiful at the same time” oh how nerves can get to a person

“Well I’m glad, it looks like the others are ready to go, you all packed up?” Luigi asked as he gazed around the room

“Yep all ready to go” King Boo said as he left his paint brushes to dry

“ come on then, oh and one more thing before I forget” Luigi stopped halfway to the door

“And what is that” King Boo quizzed with a small roll of the eyes and a questioning smirk

“Will you be joking us next time? Daisy gifted me a lovely sundress to wear for the next meeting” Luigi grinned as he turned around to face him

“Uh- yeah of course, I have to do kingly stuff now like attend meetings and such” King Boo said as a slight to it of purpled kissed his cheeks as he turned his head away

“Ah right, Kingly things, we’ll I look forward to seeing you a bit more often then, now come on” Luigi said as he turned around with a bit of blush made its way onto his own cheeks

….

Yeah I got a bit carried away I’m so sorry, sorry if the change in perspective was a bit confusing, but I hope you liked it!

I’m going to be posting a few of these Booigi prompts/ headcanons here as per the request of Skully, they are free to use/ to be added to. As much as I’d like to write these down in more detail for you all, I’m not as committed to writing stories as some of the other creators. I will still try and write a few of them but for now I’m leaving them here, free for anyone to use, and of course they can be converted into any ship your prefer (e.g. Bowser x Luigi, Mario x Peach, Luigi x Daisy ext…)but for now it’s written with my personal headcanons and from the viewpoint of booigi (king boo x Luigi)

@skulls-soul eat up

[normal-thoughts-official]

#i used to write them both all in one #i stopped because once a blind person reached out to me and asked me why i included the transcript in the description since they could #already hear what was going on and all they really needed to know was the visual aspect of the video #i do still try to write them in a cohesive way #like if i'm writing a description for a video and the video shows a person just talking but then they stop to do something before #continuing to speak i mention it in the description. like 'after x says 'y' they stop to do z before continuing to speak' #but i wonder if that's not much better and i should just mash the transcripts and descriptions into one again #i hadn't considered op's pov before so i'll definitely be thinking more about this (mushroomjar's tags)

thank you for adding your perspective as someone who does that! accessibility is never one-size-fits-all, and some things that are helpful for some are really unhelpful for others. i don't keep that in mind as much as i should and i ended up making a huge blanket statement here, so, i'm sorry for that

as i said my perspective is that of a person who needs transcriptions but is sighted. i did ask for the input of people who are not sighted before making this post but i didn't get many, so there is that. i think that in some cases (such as short videos or videos that heavily rely on audio cues rather than visual ones), hearing the audio is enough for a blind person to understand the video, and the visual description might be more of an addendum for some more detail. so in those cases, maybe having a short description before the transcription is better for those people. similar to how you sometimes make an ID followed by a detailed ID, maybe a VD versus a detailed VD with the audio could be a good solution to accomodate both

that might be particularly true because for screenreader users, it is a lot harder to skip content, so if they had already listened to the video before checking for a description it can get repetitive and annoying

i do think however that transcriptions are better with visual cues added. if the video relies heavily on visual cues, then i'm gonna need many of those to understand the transcription. if it doesn't, then they won't occupy much space and it won't bother me, and it will make it easier to understand the video as someone who's not watching it or listening to it, just reading it. also, people who arent hearing but are sighted can skip over content they aren't interested in much more easily, and people who are neither will need both anyway

i also believe that this is a "pros outweigh the cons" situation - from what you're describing here, it sounds like the person who reached out to you was confused, but not really upset/inconvenienced. where on the other hand transcriptions without descriptions have made videos completely incomprehensible or very hard to follow, to me. or sometimes they're understandable, but feel soulless. not to mention the groups who need both, such as deafblind people, who would have to keep skipping between one and another to process the video. theres also the fact that i think the audiovisual content where you can separate the two parts are a minority; mostly very short videos or videos where it's mostly one person sitting there talking

so, maybe this helps you come to a decision? i'm not trying to tell you what to do or fight/argue with you here, just add some more perspective and start a conversation, if you're interested in it

you guys. separating a video description from a video transcription is incredibly counterproductive for people who need both AND ["and" in caps] for people who only need one of the two

the audio part of a video and the visual part of a video arent separate, theyre part of the same cohesive story. as someone who needs transcriptions but not descriptions, it is incredibly more helpful if a transcription tells me what's going on in the video visually as each sound appears, because otherwise there's no context. since transcriptions are for videos without CC, i can't watch the video and read the transcription at the same time, especially if it's long

similarly, a person who needs a description but not transcriptions won't be able to watch the video and read the description at the same time, especially if they are using a screenreader and/or it is long. also, if there are way less visual cues than audio cues, it will be hard to tell when which part takes place

and i hope i don't have to explain why it's bad for people who need both

this also goes for doing video descriptions that only describe the visual cues but not the audio of a video with CC, or transcriptions without a description (which i see a lot. some people seem to think only images need visual descriptions and completely forget about videos. visually impaired people don't gain the ability to see when it's a video, guys). please for the love of god just provide both as one single thing

ETA: i know people do this with the best of intentions and i don't mean to be aggressive, although i am slightly frustrated. this is just a PSA so you can make your accessible audiovisual content better for those who need it

[duckprintspress]

Advice for Writing Trans Male Characters

Hi everyone, and welcome to our second guest post! We approached a trans man, and fellow writer, to put together a list of suggestions for cis people who want to write trans male characters! He has chosen to remain anonymous. Always remember, there is no one trans experience, and no one trans person’s knowledge will reflect the range of ways that trans people live. Our post author writes from his perspective, based on his knowledge and research, and much of this is relatively specific to the modern United States. Always use multiple sources when writing a character with an identity or identities that you don’t share!

*

So, you want to write a trans male character but you're not a trans man yourself. Good! We need more trans male characters out there in the world. There are a few things to consider, however. This is not a perfect list (I would never claim to be perfect), but here are some thoughts from a trans man about writing people like me.

Trans men are men. They talk like men, think like men, and walk like men, except where socialization as women has forced otherwise. By this I mean that descriptions should not include things like “he walked delicately, like a woman”. However he walks, it's like a man, because he’s a man. Other characters should not note that he “thinks like a woman” or that he “acts like a woman.” If you talk about a trans man transitioning and you mention that he is working on ways to masculinize his speech patterns or walking, that's fine, but make sure it's done from his perspective, e.g. “Michael tried to lower his voice, attempting to sound more like his father.” Do not use “Michael tried to lower his voice, not wanting to sound like a woman.” It's his voice and he sounds like a man. Also, many woman have deeper registers and many men have higher registers, and there's honestly not that much difference between a woman who speaks in a low alto and a man who speaks in a high tenor. Avoid gendering voices, mannerisms, and other things. A good rule of thumb is that if it's a concept, idea, or an inanimate or non-sentient thing, it is physically and/or emotionally incapable of having a gender and you should not assign one to it.

1. A trans man who has decided that all he needs to do is come out to be a man is still a man, with a man's body and male genitals, because he says he's a man. Even if he is not out, he is a man. He can be uncomfortable with his body, or with how others perceive his body, but it should not be described in terms of “womanly” aspects.

EX: David's breasts made him uncomfortable, reminding him that others looked at him differently than how he would have liked.

2. 72% of trans men do not ever want full gender reassignment surgery, and this doesn’t make them “less of a man.” The surgeries are expensive, invasive, and don’t always result in a fully functional genital apparatus. Also, there are a lot of them. A trans man, to have a full semi-working penis (one that will not be useful for sex but will at least be useful for urination), is looking at at least three surgeries: to remove the labia, to 'bulk up' the clitoris, and to move the urethra. There are also surgeries to remove the cervix and/or the uterus, to create a scrotum, and to add a pump inside the scrotum attached to a surgical implant in the penis to assist with arousal. Even if a man has all these surgeries, the penis he gets loses most of its sensitivity and won’t become physically aroused (as in, achieve erection) without medical intervention. He may also need electrolysis to remove pubic hair. Ultimately, many trans men opt not to deal with it. Many still want top surgery, or a hysterectomy, or both, and often testosterone is used to help deepen their voice and change their body shape (but, again, gendering a trans man's voice by suggesting it's “feminine” because he's not on testosterone or because his voice hasn't dropped yet is not a great idea). It depends on the type and amount of dysphoria a person experiences, versus their financial and mental ability to deal with the different choices. Some trans men are happy with no hormones and only top surgery. Others want or need everything. There is no “correct” way to be trans.

3. Unless your story revolves around their transition (which, as a cis person, maybe it's best you don't do, honestly), there’s no reason to go into detail about your trans male character's surgeries. If it’s not plot relevant, it's probably not necessary.

4. If you’re writing porn, make sure to always use male pronouns for him, even if he has chosen not to go through surgery. If he has gone through surgery, what he has will be indistinguishable from a cis male penis except that he may need viagra or a surgical pump.

5. Reactions to testosterone are different for every trans man. Some men never have their voices drop, never grow a beard, and/or never bulk up and get all muscle-y. Some men are on testosterone for two weeks and have a Gandalf beard with a voice low enough to sing bass. It just depends, mostly on genetics. If your character's father is a super hairy mountain man who sings bass in his lumberjack quartet, then your character is more likely to end up similar. If your character's father is basically an elf, then he's likely to be similar to that. Also, for a number of reasons, a trans man may choose not to or may be incapable of taking testosterone. Most doctors won’t prescribe it if the man wants to carry his own children in the future, for example.

6. Keep in mind that the order in which testosterone produces effects on a man’s body isn’t predictable, so don't worry too hard about 'getting it right.' Even trans men can't predict what they'll look like after being on testosterone for a while.

7. Also, a note: If your character is transmasculine and nonbinary, and taking testosterone, it's likely they will be on a lower dose than a trans man. That's not always true, but testosterone can be given at a few different doses, depending on how drastic a change a person wants and how quickly they want that change to occur. There’s still no guarantee: a trans man may never be able to grow a beard on a full dose, while a transmasculine nonbinary person might be on a very low dose and have a beard within the first month. But, generally, lower doses are meant to bring out smaller changes over a longer period of time, while higher doses are meant to bring out larger changes over a shorter period of time.

8. A non-fluid trans man is going to consider himself a man at all times, and always use he/him pronouns for himself, whether or not everyone else does. If you're writing a trans man point-of-view piece where he's not out or where he's not fully accepted, make sure he or the narrator always uses the right pronouns when others don't. That helps remind your audience that he's not the person other people think he is.

EX: Daniel was frustrated. His grandmother insisted on calling him “Sarah” no matter how many times he corrected her.

9. Menstruation is a difficult topic for a lot of trans men. Some men lose their ability to menstruate when they take testosterone, while others continue to menstruate. If they retain their uterus, however, the possibility of a menstrual cycle is always there. If/when menstruation happens for a trans man, it's often a time of major dysphoria. A trans man may have a lot of issues surrounding menstruation. Having a cervix also means yearly Pap smears, which can also be uncomfortable or dysphoria-inducing. Dysphoria can also happen during ovulation, when a person is most fertile. The body during this time is “getting ready for a baby” and the changes can be very triggering.

10. Testosterone may stop menstruation, but it doesn't necessarily stop pregnancy. Also, some trans men will go off their testosterone in order to carry their own child. During their pregnancy, it is important that they are still referred to as men. A trans man will generally prefer to be called “father” even if he carried the child, but some may prefer the term “mother.” If a cis person wishes to write a pregnant trans character, it would be better to err on the side of caution and use “father.” A trans man who has gone through top surgery will not likely be able to nurse his own children, but a man who has chosen to use a binder instead will be able to (probably - some people don’t/can’t lactate for other reasons). Whether or not he chooses to will be up to him.

11. Gender Dysphoria is the medical diagnosis given to trans people who want to do any form of medical transitioning. Being transgender is not in and of itself a diagnosis. A person can be transgender and choose never to transition medically. Dysphoria is generally most clearly understood as a form of discomfort in the body you possess. Sometimes a person experiencing dysphoria is uncomfortable with their body no matter what. He doesn't like his breasts, for example, unless they are bound, no matter what his setting is, who is looking at him, etc. His dysphoria takes the form of nausea at the mere sight of them. Alternatively, some people only experience dysphoria relating to how others see them. For example, a man may not mind his breasts when he's alone, and he doesn't usually bind, but on a specific day while he wasn't binding someone glance at his breasts before calling him 'ma'am' and now he can't uncross his arms in case someone else looks his way. For some people dysphoria comes and goes, and they have good days and bad days. Also, images can be dysphoria-inducing. For example, seeing a pregnant person might remind a man that he has a uterus, and make him extremely uncomfortable all day. Other people may go several days, or weeks or months, without experiencing dysphoria, but when it hits it affects them for a long time or very severely. Or a person might experience dysphoria every day, as kind of a low-level mental fog they can't shake.

12. Gender Euphoria is as valid as Gender Dysphoria. Gender Euphoria is the idea that a person might be content in the body given to them, but will never be truly happy unless they make a change. These people can live their whole lives as the gender assigned to them at birth without severe mental issues or physical problems, but it's like living a life without color. They can do it, but if there's a way to get color back, why wouldn't they?

13. Changing names is complicated and takes time. It also differs in every state/country, and may need to be re-done when a trans man moves. In some states, all they need to change their name legally is a court order. In other areas, a trans man needs to have lived using their new name for a period of time, or have doctor’s notes and authorizations. Once the character has changed their name legally through the courts, they need to change their driver's license, banking information, insurance, work papers, social security information, passport, birth certificate, and any other documentation bearing their name. It can take anywhere from a month to a year or more, and is expensive, sometimes prohibitively so. It's okay to have a trans male character who goes by “Mark” but whose parents or grandparents refer to as “Melissa.” The important thing is to make sure narratively you are confirming that those people are wrong.

EX: “Melissa! It's nice to see you come to visit!” Mark's mom said. Mark cringed, hating the sound of his deadname, but he hadn't yet been able to convince his mother to use the right one.

14. Do not portray a character binding for more than eight hours or with unsafe binders in a positive light. Just don’t. Binding, even with professional/high-end binders, is not safe. It's a stopgap - safer than not binding at all for some people whose dysphoria is really bad. It constricts the lungs and can break ribs if not done properly. It can permanently alter a person's chest cage if done for an extensive period of time. It's a necessary evil for people who are waiting to get their surgery done, in order to keep them alive to have that surgery. It's not a permanent cure-all. Binding also can cause dysphoria. A person who doesn't have dysphoria surrounding his chest can develop it after wearing a binder. So, have your character bind safely, or discuss the issues surrounding unsafe binding. (And yes, this applies even in a fantasy setting or world where the technology may be different. A story is a story, but the impact it could have on a real trans man is potentially dangerous, so write with consideration, and if you do introduce a magical or technological solution to this, maintain awareness of the reality.)

15. Transitioning without an in-person support group is one of the most common factors in transitioning regret. Give your character someone to go to the doctor with them, someone to hold their hand when they get scared, someone to talk them through moments when they're unsure. No one who goes under the knife is always completely 100% sure all the time. They need a community. Surgery and hormones are scary, even if a trans man knows he wants them, and trying to go it alone can spell disaster.

16. Given that a trans man will consider himself a man, it can be challenging to make it clear to a reader that he’s trans. If he's the main/POV character, you can write him dealing with some dysphoria. For example, if you decide your character binds, mention that his breasts are bothering him particularly badly one day. Have him adjust his binder. Describe putting a binder on. That kind of thing. If he's a minor character, it can be more challenging, but you can still have him do things like adjust a binder. You could also mention surgical scars, if a character takes off their shirt. Another thing you can do is just have the main character remember a time “before Mark went by Mark” (for example). Another way is to have the character mention some way in which they are fighting for trans rights, and acknowledge that the issue is personal to them. Try not to use the deadname unless he’s facing an actual microaggression by another character. The narrative or narrator character should never deadname the character.

17. FTM is not an accepted term anymore, as it implies that a person was one thing and changed. Generally speaking, if a trans man is not genderfluid, then he was never female or a woman. Likewise, the phrase “born in the wrong body” is not acceptable for use by cis people. The only real use it has is to explain dysphoria by transgender characters to cisgender characters who aren't inclined to listen or try to understand. The accepted term is AFAB, or Assigned Female At Birth. Keep in mind that terms and labels change with time, so do your research. For example, if you’re writing a historical piece, different terms may be more appropriate, and if you’re writing a modern current-day piece, understand that in ten or twenty years the terminology you use will likely have grown outdated.

18. The proper way to write the term is always “trans man” and never “transman”. Trans is an adjective describing a type of man, just like you might say an Asian man or a muscled man or a gay man. This comes back to the idea that a trans man is always a man, first and foremost.

19. An easy pitfall to avoid if your trans male character's setting is modern or modernesque is: Don't make the story all about their oppression. We are aware of the many ways in which the modern world is trying to oppress and harm the trans community, but trans men can still be happy and interesting people. They can have dysphoria without being depressed. They aren’t necessarily the “down in the dumps” character. Also, trans men have a long history of being activists, and are often erased in history, so don't be afraid to make your trans men an out-and-loud activist. Yes, terrible things have happened and continue to happen to trans men, and any trans man who has done any research into trans history will know about individuals like Brandon Teena. Trans men know the dangers they face. Knowing that bad things can and are happening doesn't mean a trans man can't find his own joy in life, despite things not being perfect.

20. Keep in mind when writing in historical settings that trans men have existed for as long as people have existed. Many trans men were able to go through life completely “undetected” until they died and those around them conducted culturally-common burial practices. It’s not unreasonable to have a trans man in Regency England, Yuan China, or Roman times. If you're writing about non-European-centric history, many cultures acknowledged those who didn’t present the way their AGAB (assigned gender at birth) would suggest, and do your research. Also, keep intersectionality in mind, and tread especially carefully when writing a trans man from a culture and period other than your own. This post is mostly applicable to trans men in the modern era, and especially in the United States. The trans male experience will be different in other places in the world, for people of different ages and of different religions and ethnicities and races, so the more traits your trans man has that are outside your own experience as a cis writer, the more you should consider if it’s wise for you write the story you have in mind, or if it might not be better to allow in-group members to tell those stories. And never forget - trans men can and are all things - all races, all religions, abled and disabled, etc. People have nuanced identities and multiple identifiers and trans is always only one of many.

21. In fantastical or science fiction settings, please always ask yourself if oppression of trans people or bigotry against them is even needed. Maybe a society doesn't assign gender at birth, but waits until a child is old enough to tell the society where they belong. Maybe a society reveres those who are under the transgender umbrella. Maybe children are considered genderless until they reach puberty. You have a million and one options; why limit yourself to what modern predominantly Western white Christian society says? If you do make a society that doesn't look anything like the modern world, for example they assign gender at age five, think about how that would affect society as a whole. What kind of pronouns would be used for children under five? Are young children genderless, or are they seen as genderfluid? What about people who age past five and are still genderless or genderfluid? What are the naming conventions for children?

22. There are mixed feelings regarding how a science fiction or fantasy setting should treat transitioning. Should it be an easy fix, with magic or advance science doing it instantly or nearly so? Or should it be difficult, reflecting the modern situation where the process often years before a person can feel “finished?” That's up to you. Trans people themselves are split on this, so there’s no pleasing everyone. Do your best, and whichever way you choose, make sure to tag it accurately or, for original fiction, be clear up front what approaches you’ve chosen, so people can choose not to read something that may make them uncomfortable at best or trigger them and profoundly harm them at worst.

Ultimately, your trans man is your character and you can do with him as you wish. Write responsibly, and do your research, and if you can, get a sensitivity reader or a beta who is a trans man.

So, go, diversify those stories, write the things, and present good representation! Happy writing!

[infernallegaycy]

Writing Psychotic Characters

Hi! I’ve seen a few of these writing things pop up recently (and in the past), but I haven’t seen any on psychotic characters—which, judging from the current state of portrayals of psychosis in media, is something I think many people* need. And as a psychotic person who complains about how badly psychosis tends to be represented in media, I thought I’d share a bit of information and suggestions!

A lot of this isn’t necessarily specifically writing advice but information about psychosis, how it presents, and how it affects daily life. This is partially purposeful—I feel that a large part of poor psychotic representation stems from a lack of understanding about psychosis, and while I’m not usually in an educating mood, context and understanding are crucial to posts like this. A lot of this also relates to writing psychosis in a modern-day setting, simply because that’s where bad psychotic representation tends to mostly occur (and it’s the only experience I’ve had, obviously), but please don’t shy away from applying this advice to psychotic characters in sci-fi/fantasy/historical fiction/etc. Psychosis is not a wholly modern phenomenon, nor would speculative fiction feel truly escapist without being able to see yourself reflected in it.

Please also note that I am not a medical professional nor an expert in psychology. I simply speak from my personal experiences, research, and what I’ve read of others’ experiences. I also do not speak for all psychotic people, and more than welcome any alternative perspectives to my own.

*These people, in all honesty, aren’t likely to be the ones willingly reading this. But there are people who are willing to learn, so here’s your opportunity.

(Warnings: Mentions of institutionalization/hospitalization, including forced institutionalization; ableism/saneism; and brief descriptions of delusions and hallucinations. Also, it’s a pretty long post!)

Up front, some terminology notes: “Unpsychotic” refers to people who are not psychotic. This includes other mentally ill and neurodivergent people. Please try to avoid terminology like “non-[identity],” as much of it is co-opted from “nonblack.”

Also, “psychotic” and “delusional” will not be, and should not be, used to refer to anything but respectively someone who experiences psychosis and someone who experiences delusions. Remove these words as insults and negative descriptors for anyone you dislike from your vocabulary.

In addition, I generally use adjectives rather than person-first language because that is the language I, and the seeming majority of other neurodivergent and mentally ill people, prefer. Others might describe themselves differently (as “people with psychosis,” for instance). Don’t assume either way—I’d generally suggest you say “psychotic person” first, and then correct yourself if the person in question prefers different terminology.

1) Psychosis is a symptom, not a disorder.

As a term, “psychosis” describes any number of symptoms that indicate a break with reality, such as delusions and hallucinations (I’ll go into more detail about this in a bit). It commonly occurs as part of several mental and neurological disorders, including but not limited to:

Schizophrenia

Schizophreniform disorder (same symptoms as schizophrenia, but for a shorter period of time than 6 months)

Schizoaffective disorder (combined symptoms of psychosis and a mood disorder, but not enough to completely fill the diagnostic criteria for either)

Bipolar disorder (typically as part of manic episodes, but it can also occur in unipolar depression and depressive episodes)

Personality disorders, including borderline personality disorder (for which transient paranoia under stress is part of the diagnostic criteria), paranoid personality disorder, and schizoid personality disorder

Post-traumatic stress disorder

Obsessive-compulsive disorder

Dissociative disorders (though psychosis =/= dissociative identity disorder; if you want further information on the latter, which I do not have, please seek out another post!)

Psychosis can also occur with forms of epilepsy, sleep disorders, metabolic disorders, and autoimmune disorders. It tends to be a major part of neurodegenerative disorders like Parkinson’s and Alzheimer’s. In addition, it can occur when not related to a chronic health condition; things like sleep deprivation and stress can induce temporary psychosis, as can drug use and medication.

This isn’t to say you necessarily need to define a disorder for a psychotic character, as some psychotic people (including myself) primarily just describe ourselves as “psychotic,” and some aren’t diagnosed with anything specific. However, if your psychotic character is a main/perspective character, I definitely recommend it. Chances are, someone with that disorder is reading/watching, and I’m sure they’d love to see a bit of direct representation. In general, you probably should at least have something in mind, because psychotic symptoms and severity/onset can differ greatly.

Some psychotic disorders’ diagnostic criteria explicitly exclude others (someone cannot be diagnosed with both schizophrenia and schizophreniform disorder at the same time, for instance, though the latter can develop into the former), but comorbidity is possible—and often common—among certain disorders and other neurological/mental conditions. Rates vary, so definitely research this, but in short, it is very much possible for psychotic people to have multiple disorders, including disorders that don’t include psychotic symptoms. (Personally speaking: I’m autistic, ADHD, and OCD in addition to being psychotic, and I’m physically disabled as well.)

I’m not here to do all the research for you—if you want to know more about specific psychotic disorders, then by all means, look them up! Go beyond Wikipedia and Mayo Clinic articles, too. Talk to people who have them. Seek out blogs and YouTube channels run by people with them. Read books about psychosis by psychotic people**. Pay attention to how we describe ourselves and our disorders.

And if you want to write characters with those disorders, especially if you’re writing from their perspectives, then please for the love of God, hire a sensitivity reader. For authenticity, I would recommend seeking out someone with the same disorder, not just anyone psychotic.

**If you want a fiction recommendation: I don’t actually know if the author is schizophrenic like the main character, but I really enjoyed and related to The Drowning Girl by Caitlín R. Kiernan. Content warnings include, but might not be limited to—it’s been a while since I read it—unreality, self-harm, suicide, abuse, and mentions of transphobia. I haven’t personally read any autobiographies/memoirs/essays yet, so I don’t have any to offer, and quite a few that came up through a cursory search seemed only to focus on being an inspiration to neurotypical people or were from a perspective other than that of the psychotic person in question. If anyone (preferably psychotic people) has any more recommendations, fiction or nonfiction, let me know!

2) Not every psychotic person has the same symptoms.

As mentioned, psychosis consists of symptoms that involve separation with reality, which can present as positive or negative symptoms. Every person’s experiences with these are different, but some generalizations can be made. I definitely recommend reading studies and articles (especially directly by psychotic people) describing experiences and presentation!

I’ll start with positive symptoms, which refer to the presence of symptoms unpsychotic people don’t have, and can include hallucinations, delusions, and disorganized thoughts, speech, and behavior.

You probably know what hallucinations are (perceptions of sensory information that is not really present), but you might not know the specifics. Types of hallucinations include:

Auditory (which tend to be the most common, and are probably the form everyone is most familiar with, primarily as “hearing voices”)

Visual

Olfactory

Tactile/haptic

Gustatory (taste)

Somatic

Some types with regards to bodily sensations get a little muddled from here, but some forms of hallucinations you might not have heard of include thermic (hot/cold), hygric (fluids), kinesthetic (bodily movements), and visceral (inner organs).

(Note: Hypnagogic/hypnopompic hallucinations, which occur when falling asleep or waking up, are not related to psychosis and can occur in anyone.)

As mentioned, there are some forms of hallucinations that are more common, but that is not to say that everyone has the same hallucinations. A lot of us have auditory and/or visual hallucinations, but not everyone does. Some have tactile, olfactory, or gustatory hallucinations instead of or in addition to more common forms (hi! Auditory hallucinations are pretty rare for me, but I constantly feel bugs/spiders crawling on me). If you write a psychotic character that experiences hallucinations, then you should definitely do further research on these types and manifestations of them.

You’re likely also familiar with delusions (a belief that contradicts reality), though again, you might not know the specifics. Delusions can be classified as bizarre (implausible, not shared or understood by peers of the same culture) or non-bizarre (false, but technically possible). They can relate to one’s mood or not.

Some people only experience delusions and no other significant psychotic symptoms (this occurs in delusional disorder). Delusions differ between people and tend to be heavily influenced by environment, but there are some common themes, such as:

Persecution

Guilt, punishment, or sin

Mind reading

Thought insertion

Jealousy

Control

Reference (coincidences having meaning)

Grandeur

Certain types of delusions are more common in certain cultures/backgrounds or certain disorders. I can’t really go into details about specific delusions, because I try not to read many examples (for a reason I’m about to mention), but if you plan on writing a character who experiences delusions, I definitely recommend heavily researching delusions and how it feels to experience them.

I would like to note: I’m not sure how common it is, but I’ve noticed that I personally have a tendency to pick up delusions that I see other psychotic people talking about having. Just kind of, like, an “oh shit what if” feeling creeps up on me, and before I know it, that delusion has wormed its way into my life. Just in case you want some idea of how psychotic people can interact amongst ourselves!

Another quick note: Delusions, by definition, are untrue beliefs; this does not mean that anyone who has ever been delusional is inherently untrustworthy.

Disorganization of thoughts/speech and behavior is more self-explanatory. Problems with thinking and speaking tend to be one of the most common psychotic symptoms, sometimes considered even more so than delusions and hallucinations. There are a lot of ways thought processes can be disrupted, and I honestly think it would be kind of difficult to portray this if you haven’t experienced it, but some common manifestations are:

Derailment

Tangents (which you might notice me doing sometimes in this very post)

Getting distracted mid-sentence/thought

Incoherence/“word salad”

Thought blocking (sudden stops in thoughts/speech)

Repetition of words/phrases

Pressured speech (rapid, urgent speech)

Use of invented words

Poverty of speech/content of speech

(Note that thought/speech disturbances aren’t necessarily exclusive to psychotic disorders. They tend to be common in ADHD and autism as well, though symptoms can be more severe when they occur in, for example, schizophrenia.)

Behavioral abnormalities can include catatonia, which presents in a number of ways, such as mutism, echolalia, agitation, stupor, catalepsy, posturing, and more. Episodes of catatonia last for hours and sometimes longer, which usually requires hospitalization and/or medication. This tends to overlap heavily with symptoms of autism spectrum disorders, which can be comorbid with conditions like schizophrenia.

Negative symptoms, on the other hand, refer to the absence of certain experiences. It can include flat affect (lack of or limited emotional reactions), generally altered emotional responses, a decrease in speech, and low motivation. Most of these speak for themselves, and I’m not honestly sure how to describe them to someone who’s never experienced them in a way that isn’t very metaphorical and therefore kind of unhelpful. If any other psychotic people have suggestions, feel free to add on/message me!

Not every psychotic disorder involves or requires both positive and negative symptoms (to my knowledge, manic episodes of bipolar disorder mostly only include positive symptoms), but many psychotic people experience both. And, as expressed multiple times—and I really can’t stress it enough—every person’s experience with psychosis is different.

If you interview two psychotic people at random, chances are they aren’t going to have the same combination of symptoms. Chances are they won’t even have the same disorder. Therefore, if you write multiple psychotic characters, they shouldn’t be identical in terms of personality or psychosis.

There are also some qualities of psychotic disorders that may not necessarily be diagnostic criteria but are prominent in people with these conditions. These also vary between disorders, but cognitive impairments and similar traits are fairly common.

3) In a similar vein, daily experiences can vary greatly. Psychosis can be a major part of psychotic people’s lives, but it doesn’t always affect daily life.

For some people, psychosis occurs in episodes, not 24/7; you may have heard the term “psychotic break,” which tends to refer to a first episode of psychosis. This is especially true of disorders where psychotic symptoms occur under stress or during mood episodes.

For other people, psychosis is a near-constant. It can wax and wane, but it never completely goes away. These people might be more likely to invest in medication or long-term therapy and other treatment methods.

Psychosis’s impact on everyday life can also be affected by insight (how well the person can tell they’re having psychotic symptoms). There’s not a ton of accessible research—or research at all—into insight and how it affects psychotic people, and I’m not a big fan of describing people as having high/low insight because I think it has the potential to be used like functioning labels (which, for the record, are bad; plenty of other autistic people have written at length about this), but just something to keep in mind. It’s a sliding scale; at different points in time, the same person might have limited or significant awareness of their symptoms. Both greater and poorer insight have been linked to decreased quality of life, so neither one is really a positive.

Just something to be aware of: Yes, sometimes we do realize how “crazy” we seem. Yes, sometimes we don’t. No, it doesn’t really make things any better to know that what we’re seeing/thinking/etc isn’t real. No, people with low insight shouldn’t be blamed or mocked for this.

As such, the diagnostic process can vary greatly. Psychotic people aware of their symptoms or how their lives are being impacted may directly ask for a diagnosis or seek out information on their own. Other times, family or friends might notice symptoms and bring them up to a mental health professional, or someone might be forcibly institutionalized and diagnosed that way.

My professional diagnostic processes have been pretty boring: Over time, I just gradually brought up different diagnoses I thought might fit me to my therapist, whom I started seeing for anxiety (which I no longer strongly identify with, on account of my anxiety mostly stemming from me being autistic, OCD, and psychotic). I filled out checklists and talked about my symptoms. We moved on with the treatment processes I was already undergoing and incorporated more coping mechanisms and stuff like that into therapy sessions. Hardly the tearful scenes of denial you’re used to seeing or reading about.

Other people might have very different experiences, or very similar ones! It all depends! I generally don’t really like reading scenes of people being diagnosed (it’s just exposition and maybe some realization on the PoV character’s part, but it’s usually somewhat inaccurate in that regard), so you can probably steer away from that sort of thing, but you might find it useful to note how your character was identified somewhere? I don’t really have any strong opinions on this.

I’d also like to note: Everything I publicly speak about having, I’ve discussed in a professional therapy setting, just because of my personal complexes. However, I do fully support self-diagnosis. Bigotry and money are huge obstacles against getting professional diagnoses, and if someone identifies with a certain disorder and seeks out treatment mechanisms for it, there’s no real harm being done. If someone is genuinely struggling and they benefit from coping mechanisms intended for a disorder they might not have, then I think that’s better than if they shied away because they weren’t professionally diagnosed with it, and therefore didn’t get help they needed. With proper research, self-diagnosis is fully ethical and reasonable.

I do not want to debate this, and any attempts to force me into a discussion about professional versus self-diagnosis will be ignored.

Anyway! I can’t really identify any specific daily experiences with psychosis you might want to include, because as mentioned, everyone has different symptoms and ways they cope with them.

Some psychotic people might not experience symptoms outside of an episode, which can be brought on by any number of things; some might experience symptoms only under general stress; some might have consistent symptoms. The content of hallucinations and delusions can also shift over time.

Psychosis can also affect anyone—there are certain demographics certain disorders are more likely to occur in, but this could just as easily be due to biases in diagnostic criteria or professionals themselves as it could be due to an actual statistical correlation. If you want to figure out how a psychotic character behaves on a day-to-day basis, then you’re better off shaping who they are as a person beyond their psychosis first, then incorporating their psychosis into things.

(A note about this: I consider my psychosis a major part of me, and I firmly believe that I would be a very different person without it; that’s why I refer to myself as a “psychotic person” rather than “a person with psychosis.” However, there is a difference between that and unpsychotic people making psychotic characters’ only trait their psychosis.)

4) Treatment for psychosis differs from person to person. The same things don’t work for everyone.

Some people are on antipsychotics; others aren’t. Medication is a personal choice and not a necessity—no one should be judged either for being on medication or for not being on medication. There are many reasons behind either option. Please do not ask psychotic people about their medication/lack thereof unprompted.

If you want to depict a psychotic character on medication, then research different forms of antipsychotics and how they affect psychotic people. I’ve never been on medication and don’t really plan to be (though if I ever do, I’m definitely taking a note from Phasmophobia’s book and calling them “Sanity Pills.” Just to clarify, I don’t want unpsychotic people repeating this joke, but if you want some insight on how some of us regard our health…), so you’re better off looking elsewhere for this sort of information!

I’m not going to get into my personal opinions on institutionalization and the psychiatry industry in general now, but institutionalization is, while common, also not necessary, and many psychotic people—and mentally ill and neurodivergent people in general—have faced harm and trauma due to institutionalization. Again, I can’t offer direct personal experience, but I recommend steering clear of plotlines directly related to psychiatric hospitals.

I would also like to emphasis the word treatment. Psychosis has no cure. It is possible for psychosis to only last a single episode (whether because it’s only due to stress/another outside factor or because it is treated early), or for symptoms to be greatly reduced over time and with treatment, but for the most part, psychotic people are psychotic for life.

However, with proper support networks and coping skills, many psychotic people are able to lead (quote unquote) “normal” lives. What coping mechanisms work for what people differs, but some psychosis-specific coping mechanisms might be:

Taping webcams for delusions of persecution/surveillance (which is honestly also just something everyone should do with webcams that aren’t in use)

Covering/closing windows for similar reasons

Using phone cameras/audio recordings to distinguish visual and auditory hallucinations from reality (most of the time, a hallucination won’t show up on camera, though it’s possible for people to hallucinate something on a camera screen too)

Similarly, removing glasses/contact lenses to check a visual hallucination

Asking people you trust (because of stigma and delusions, this might not be a long list) to check for symptoms of an oncoming episode

Avoiding possible triggers for psychosis (for example, I don’t engage with horror media often because a lot of it -- both psychological horror and slasher-type things -- can trigger delusions and hallucinations)

I’d also like to mention that treatment isn’t a clean, one-way process; especially with certain disorders, it’s normal to go up and down over time. I’d honestly be really uncomfortable with a psychotic character whose symptoms don’t affect their life whatsoever. There are ways you can write how psychosis affects someone that are… weird, which I’ll touch on, but overall, I think it’s better to actually depict a psychotic person whose symptoms have a clear impact on their life (even if that impact is, say, they’re on medication that negates some of their symptoms).

Just to reiterate: I am not a medical professional and cannot offer real-life advice regarding treatment, especially medication. Please do not ask me too detailed questions regarding this.

5) There are a lot of stereotypes and stigma surrounding psychosis.

The way psychosis is perceived both by general society and the field of psychology has changed a lot over the years, but even now, it still remains highly stigmatized and misunderstood. Wall of text incoming, but it’s important stuff.

Typical media portrayal of psychosis tends to fall into specific categories: The scary, violent psychotic person, or the psychotic person who is so crazy you can’t help but laugh. There are other bad depictions, but these are generally the ways I see psychotic people regarded and represented the most, so I want to address them directly.

Let’s talk about psychosis in horror first. Psychosis is often stereotyped as making people aggressive and violent. You’ve all seen the “psychotic killer” trope and depictions of people who are made violent and evil by their psychosis, even if it’s not explicitly named as the case. You’ve all seen “psychotic” used as a negative adjective, used synonymously to murderous, evil, harmful, violent, manipulative, etc—maybe you’ve even used it that way in the past. There’s no denying that the way society regards psychotic people is overwhelmingly negative, and that leaks into media.

If you are considering giving a violent, irredeemable antagonist psychosis, consider this: Don’t. More or less every psychotic person hates this trope. It’s inaccurate and, needless to say, rooted in ableism.

There are racialized aspects to this as well. People of color, especially Black and Latine people, are already stereotyped as being aggressive, violent, and scary; there’s also a history of overdiagnosis (and often misdiagnosis) of schizophrenia in Black people, especially civil rights activists. White and white-passing people will only be singled out if someone notices us exhibiting psychotic symptoms, but Black and brown people are already under scrutiny. Be extra cautious about how you write psychotic characters of color.

I’m not saying you can never give a psychotic person, say, a temper; in some cases, it might even make sense. Spells of uncontrollable anger are part of the diagnostic criteria for BPD, for example, and irritability is a common trait of manic episodes. Some delusions and hallucinations can affect aggression (emphasis on can—it would be inaccurate to imply that this is always the case. Once again, each person has a different experience with their psychotic symptoms).

But when the only psychotic or psychotic-coded characters you write are angry and violent, even when the situation doesn’t call for it, then there’s a problem. When you want to write a schizophrenic character, but only in a situation where they’re going on a killing spree, there’s a problem.

Studies have shown that no substantial link exists between psychosis and violence. There is a small association, but I think it would be reasonable to say this is partially because of the stigma surrounding psychosis and various other overlapping factors; no violence or crime exists in a vacuum. In addition, though I can’t find any exact statistics on this, psychotic people are susceptible to being victims of violence (likely because of this very stereotype).

On this note, don’t use mental hospitals as a setting for horror, especially if you plan on depicting the mentally ill patients there as antagonistic and unhinged. As mentioned earlier, institutionalization is a huge trigger for many psychotic people. True, psychiatric hospitals have definitely served as a source of trauma and pain for many in the past, but mentally ill and neurodivergent people have been (and are) the victims in those situations.

Also, don’t do the “what if it was all a delusion” thing. I know this is most common in ~edgy~ theories about children’s series, but… yikes.

In the same vein that you should avoid depictions of psychotic people that are ripped straight from a bad horror movie, don’t push it too far into comedy either. You’ve heard “psych ward” jokes, you’ve seen “I put the hot in psychotic” jokes (a supposedly humorous instance of that psychotic as a negative descriptor thing), you’ve heard people say “I have anxiety/depression, but I’m not crazy!”

Even other mentally ill and neurodivergent people constantly throw us under the bus, as can be seen in that last one. We’re the butt of plenty of jokes—we see things that aren’t there, we talk to ourselves, we believe things that are just so wacky you can’t believe anyone would think that way. (Even when we don’t.)

If you have to write another character laughing at a psychotic character for their symptoms, then have it swiftly criticized in the text, and try not to imply the reader should find psychosis funny either. Treat psychotic characters’ symptoms with sympathy and understanding, not ridicule.

Psychotic people literally cannot help our delusions/hallucinations/other symptoms. If something we think/say seems “crazy” to you, chances are it does to us as well.

(We’re talking about portraying psychosis in fiction, but this applies to real-life treatment of psychotic people, too!)

Also, I’d like to note—all of this is about the way unpsychotic people view psychotic people. If you see a psychotic person laughing at themself or viewing their symptoms as scary, then that is not an invitation for you to laugh along or go beyond symptoms and think the person is scary for being psychotic. That’s the thing about gallows humor; you have to be the one on the gallows.

Moving on! In romance, there is often a presumption that love can cure psychosis. This is false. No matter how much you love (whether romantically or platonically) and want to help a psychotic person, that alone will not “heal” their psychosis. Please do not depict a psychotic person having to be cured to be happy or in love. It doesn’t work that way.

This doesn’t mean you should stray away from romance in general—I personally would definitely like to see more portrayals of psychotic people being loved and supported, especially in romantic relationships. I’d prefer it not be in spite of their psychosis, either; it would be weird if someone loved a person because of their psychosis, but I don’t think you can really love someone whom you disregard such a large part of either.

Point-blank: Psychotic people are worthy of love and affection, and I think this should show in media as well.

In relation to relationships, I’d also strongly advise steering away from writing family members and friends who see someone’s psychosis as harder on them than for the psychotic person, unless you want to explicitly disavow this behavior. Sure, it probably is difficult for other people to witness my psychotic symptoms. But it’s harder for me to have them.

I’m not sure if this is a widely-held belief, but some people also seem to think psychosis is less common than it is. Psychotic people are all around you, and if you read that as a threat or anything like that, you might need to do some self-evaluating. We exist, online and in person, and we can see and read and hear the things you say about us!

Specifically: By the NIMH’s statistics, roughly 3% of people (3 out of every 100) in the United States will experience psychosis at some point in their lives. Around 100,000 people experience their first episode a year.

This also means that it’s possible unpsychotic people reading this will end up developing a form of psychosis at some point in your life as well. Yes, even without a genetic basis; yes, even as a full-grown adult (see how common psychosis is in neurodegenerative disorders). Now this one is intended as a threat (/hj).

Also, you can’t always tell who is psychotic and who is not. I imagine there are a lot of people who wouldn’t know I’m psychotic without me explicitly saying so. Set aside any notions you might have of being able to identify psychotic people, because they will definitely influence how you might go into writing a psychotic character, and they will definitely end up pissing off a psychotic person in your life. Because… you probably know at least one!

People often regard psychosis as a worst-case scenario—which, again, is something that occurs even by people and in works that uplift mental health in general (something I’ve mentioned before is The Bright Sessions, in which a telepath is misdiagnosed as schizophrenic and has an “I’m not crazy!” outburst). I’ve talked about treatment already, but I just thought I’d say this: Psychosis is not a death sentence nor a “fate worse than death.” It may be difficult for unpsychotic people to understand and handle; it is harder to live with. But being psychotic is not an inherently bad thing, and psychotic people should not be expected to act like our lives are constantly awful and hopeless on account of stigma.

I think that’s all I have to say, so thank you so much for reading, especially if you’re not psychotic! I hope you’ve learned something from this, and once again, fellow psychotic people are more than welcome to add on more information if they’re willing.

[solomonish]

Hii I saw astrology and divination talk and got curious! If you are into it, do you have any even vague headcanon of what Solomon's relevant(?) placements could be? This topic always makes me go 👀 and its funny that even ancient demons got their lil sun sign listed on their profiles lmao.

Completely disregard this if u dont like astrology though oh 🙈😳 and also !!! hope you're having a nice day~💌

HELLLLLLLOOO my love I hope you meant big three signs because that's what I did lol! And no I did not BUT the moment I got the ask that prompted this I did wonder "hmmm what would Solomon's big three be?" and then this ask came in SO...I looked it up lol

I will warn you though that I don't know a lot about astrology other than my own sun sign (Aries) so this is all from a quick little search!! My descriptions of what they're about come from here so if it's wrong.........I tried <3

Solomon's Big Three

Explaining his Sun Sign - Sagittarius

starslikeyou describes Sagittarius like so:

"Born with the Sun in Sagittarius, you are gifted with an abundance of warmth, energy and positivity. Your sign is noted for a willingness to transcend the everyday by pushing boundaries, demanding freedom and seeking to explore unchartered horizons whenever possible. Your journey involves discovering all that is possible.

At a deeper level, your sign is also concerned with the cultural, philosophical and metaphysical frameworks which make life meaningful. Your life path involves searching for truth and then sharing that with others."

Honestly, I think this works for Solomon!! I think his energy and positivity are more calm, but he's very playful and welcoming just in general. Obviously he's all about exploring the unknown [gestures @ immortality] and I definitely headcanon that Solomon knows a little bit about everything. A true renaissance man...

IDK this was short I just wanted to address it lol. Onto the good stuff!

Guessing Solomon's Moon Sign - Scorpio

According to starslikeyou...

"Born with the Moon in Scorpio, you are likely to be sensitive and loyal, but have intense emotional needs...You are likely to give the impression of being perceptive, powerful, and transformational.

Scorpio is also a Fixed sign, suggesting that when you align your emotions with something you desire – be that a friend/lover or an anticipated outcome – you will be constant, enduring and unwilling to let go."

In terms of the emotional needs, I think this might be the weakest part of my argument - but hear me out. The website describes emotional extremes that may swing back and forth, as well as intense reactions to emotions. I could argue that Solomon does experience this - although I think he's gotten good at hiding it.

I wouldn't describe him as having mood swings, but I can think of a few instances where he has shown them. I think this would mainly take place in his anticipation of rejection. We've seen multiple times how he's willing to indulge in being with MC, only for a moment - happy, satisfied - but then he quickly realizes that they could reject him, that they might not want him, and he backs off and retreats again. This isn't exactly a mood swing, but it fits for my argument. He easily flips from accepting and eager to show affection whenever he has the chance to reserved and pulling away. From confident to almost insecure. Additionally, his emotional reaction to the possibility of rejection - or of returned feelings, like in the Threads of Fate devilgram - could also help my case. The website also argues that people with a moon in scorpio are self-aware, introspective, and private individuals, which definitely sounds like Solomon to me.

In terms of intimacy, the website accents a need for emotional honesty, and finding an inner transformation as you share more parts of yourself and expose your vulnerabilities. I've talked about this for long periods of time, but I really, really think that this is the type of beneficial relationship Solomon needs. He needs someone he can trust completely, someone who can get him to open himself up and be a little more free because they accept his past and the parts of him that are messy.

Also the website says this:

"Finally, the Moon here often also brings highly developed intuitive and psychic gifts. You may find yourself drawn to explore the mysteries of life, wanting to know more about magic, alchemy or anything occult."

And if this isn't Solomon, idk what is.

Honorable mentions i also considered: Moon in Gemini for emphasis on communication / knowledge exchange and intuition, Moon in Sagittarius for passion / creativity and a call to freedom, and a tentative Moon in Cancer for intuition and need for connections.

Guessing Solomon's Rising Sign - Aquarius

As starslikeyou says...

"Born with Aquarius on your Ascendant (or Rising), you will find a clearer sense of individuality is gained by stepping back to look at life from an objective perspective. A detached point of view allows for a logical assessment of the circumstances around you, giving you the ability to find, at times, lightning fast resolution to key issues.

This is the sign of the collective over the individual, the group over the singular. You are likely to have an especially broad view on society that allows you to mix with a great variety of people. Your awareness of group and social dynamics is paramount for your overall self-expression. Putting group endeavours first may override purely personal concerns.

There is likely to be a pronounced tendency to act in ways that will benefit the collective, rather than provide personal gain. This then is the rising sign of the true humanitarian, who gets what they need in ways that are socially responsible and considerate.

...You may also be drawn to arenas such as science, politics, communications or human resources, and have a strong social conscience. Usually open to scientific innovation, you can be an early-adopter or work with advances in technology."

This one really hit me as correct because of the whole collective over the individual part. Solomon acts as a sort of guardian for humanity, and he spares no expense to ensure the continued safety of humans. I understand that Solomon formed pacts beforehand and maybe for selfish reasons, but at least now he's put himself in the affairs of demons to make sure humans have some sort of voice. Now that he's in a position of power, he uses his leverage and makes his loyalties known. Demons probably wouldn't eye him so warily if they weren't suspicious of him turning on them or using them - and if he did so, it'd probably be for humans. Whether or not it's a side effect of his warped view on his own humanity, I definitely think he'd put himself in "harm's way" (though with him, the goalposts for that kind of shift compared to other humans) in order for the greater human good.

The sign also highlights intellect and the ability to make specific and well-thought out decisions with complicated information, as well as an impressive intuition. It describes those with this rising sign as idealistic yet practical, somewhat unorthodox or seen as eccentric (and paying the price for this perception), and a somewhat isolated and aloof front. Honestly, the further I read into the page, the more it reads like just an explanation of Solomon.

Honorable mentions i also considered: Rising Virgo for being humble yet sometimes self-effacing, critical and practical tendencies, and and urge to be useful over recognition. Also Rising Scorpio for transformation, charisma and perception, and insight.

ANWAY...I hope this is what you meant with this ask because if not I will feel SO dumb. But either way I hope you enjoyed, maybe even agreed, and I sure hope this information was correct!! And also....I hope your day was/is great too 😘

[mimiplaysgames]

Terraqua Week Day 6 (Free Day)

Summary: Terra and Aqua are getting married—and Ven is the Bridezilla. || Word Count: 9,058

Read on AO3

A/N: @terraquaweek​ I could have never written this without my dear friend @localcryptideli​. We talked about this wedding years ago, and I promised to write it. It’s here, three years later, blending their headcanons with mine and I couldn’t be more proud of it. <3

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

the threads that tie hearts together

Terra never once considered in his entire life that his wedding preparations would include the perk of mice squeaking in his ear—but he here is, in the tailor’s studio, getting re-fitted for his tuxedo, with Princess Cinderella’s team of seamstress mice on his shoulders, measuring the length of his arms. His muscles were too big for the previous suit. 

Ven refuses to hire a proper tailor, and instead rents out the parlor so the mice could do their work in private.

Lea sits on a nearby bench by the shoe shelves, the top button of his shirt open, jabbing at his Gummiphone. He’s quite popular today, pinged every two minutes. Isa and Roxas share a mirror, trying to get the mechanics of their bow ties right. 

Terra is getting married. 

The thought. Married. Soon. Yes. Damn. He can’t cry right now.

Terra stands in front of a mirror and bends his elbows to see how the fabric moves. The mice are tiny, three of them in skirts. They’ve developed an efficient obstacle course of threads all down his entire body, a network so the mice on the floor can deliver them supplies��spools, sewing needles, thumbtacks, measuring tape—in a jiffy. 

Lea groans, squeezing his Gummiphone. “This twerp is going to turn me into a serial killer.” He yawns, possibly for the fortieth time.

“Not an ill-fitting job, all things considered,” Isa says from across the room.

“I do appreciate your sarcasm.”

“Who’s bothering you?” Terra asks, lifting his collar so the mouse on his left could thread through it with a sewing needle.

Lea snorts, slaps his knee and leans forward. “Did you not know your buddy is a monster?”

“Ven?”

“Oh, he’s a joy.” Lea holds his Gummiphone up as if he’s about to make a speech. “Come help me pick out Aqua’s flowers. Now. If you could.” He glances at Terra, then back at the phone. “He writes that in all-caps.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t mean to be so pushy.”

“The other day, he called me to model the bride’s dress because Miss Aqua couldn’t be bothered to come to the fitting herself.”

“Master Aqua was away on a mission,” Isa explains.

“Isa took photos of me in it—” Lea scrolls through his phone, but stops. “Oh, I can’t show you before...” He clicks his tongue. “It’s very nice. Very bridal.”

Terra is sure that’s true, but the image of Ven hanging his head so much on someone else’s wedding is worrisome. Last night, he fell asleep at dinner. “I think Ven is taking on too much stress.”

“Lea,” Roxas says, snorting a chuckle and giving up on his bow tie, “you should show him the texts.” 

“Gladly.” Lea stands to shove the Gummiphone into Terra’s face. Out of the history, a couple of messages stand out.

Ventus

I got 500 cake flavors come taste them with me

Ventus

Which cologne do you think terra should wear

COME SMELL 

i need a second opinion

Ventus

Do you have aqua’s flowers yet?

remember 

we want orange roses and bluestars

Ventus

Aqua isnt here im freaking out

Youre closest to her body type

HELP

After all that, Terra feels as though he’s being watched by several microscopic eyes. One of the mice squeaks with urgency, and he straightens one of his arms. “I don’t know what to say... Why doesn’t he talk to me directly?”

Lea purses his lips as though this is a secret not worth sharing. Roxas is the one to step forward, a knowing grimace plastered on his face.

“He told me that he doesn’t want to bother you with anything.”

That doesn’t sound entirely false but not true either.

“That’s ridiculous.” Terra tests the bend of the elbow to fiddle with his bow tie. It’s already done but something about it doesn’t sit right. “He could come to me for anything,” he says with a low voice, wondering if there’s something he’s missing. Terra has also been a mess. He’s getting married. Holy stars. 

Isa huffs out of frustration, turning away from the mirror, his bow tie undone. He studies Terra’s suit. “I don’t like it.”

His straightforwardness is well appreciated. Aqua would probably smirk at the sight of it and stare at his neck the entire ceremony. “I don’t either,” Terra says.

“Smart man.” Isa smirks, and tugs Terra’s bow tie to undo it. “Let’s change it.”

Lea snorts. “You might want to ask permission from he-who-shall-be-slapped.”

“It’s my wedding,” Terra says.

“So you think.”

He-who-may-be-slapped enters the tailor’s parlor through the front entrance, announced by the bell of the ring. He’s perfectly dressed in his ringbearer’s/best man’s/maid of honor’s suit, vest fitted, bow tie sublime, sleeves coiffed. He sees what Isa is doing. He gapes.

“Hey guys,” Ven asks with a frustratingly shaky voice. “What are we doing?”

“They are unbecoming,” Isa answers, wrapping a traditional tie around Terra’s neck.

“Oh.” 

Sometimes, speaking to Isa is like getting clocked in the stomach. By the looks of Lea’s expression, chewing on the edge of his Gummiphone, it’s well deserved.

“Okay,” Ven says, with a tight smile. He takes the tie from Isa’s hands. “Do they match?”

“A hello would be less rude,” Terra says. “Hi, Ven. Can we talk?”

Ven glances up. “Later. There’s lots to do.”

Lea inhales sharply. “Hey, Ven. Here’s an idea. Did you know you could tame cicadas to sing in harmony on command?”

Ven whips his head around. “You can?”

Isa brings a hand up to hide a smirk and Lea passes him a subtle wink.

“Picture it.” Lea opens his arms. “From nine until eleven at night, they gather in the bushes. They mutter, a light dusting of atmosphere on a peaceful summer night.”

Ven’s eyes grow wide with obsession. 

Roxas comes near. “You can also make them glow.”

“Like stars in the bushes,” Ven whispers to himself.

“Come on, guys,” Terra says, unimpressed. “Leave him alone. We’ve got better things to do.”

Ven snaps himself out of it, but not before pulling out a notepad and writing notes. He eyes Terra over, nudging him to open his arms and pinching the sides of the suit. Ven draws them in by the measure of a finger and pulls pins out of his pocket, like he’s been expecting to use them, and marks their places. “Jaq Jaq,” he calls, “where’s Suzy? We need to make sure these ties look right. Oh, and we need two extras—we have to ship some to Riku and Sora.”

Some mouse squeaks in reply.

“I can help her carry things.” Ven gives a flash of a smile and then hurries off.

Out of earshot, Lea gives Terra a look. “Anyone able to talk to mice is a crazy person in my book.”

Terra glares back and quotes, “‘You could tame cicadas to sing on command?’”

“He needs something to obsess over. How else am I going to get peace?”

“This is going to bite you in the ass,” Roxas says, wrapping his new tie over the neck and having a much easier time.

“Ventus may very well task you with hunting and gathering the cicadas,” Isa says, a tie already in place, immaculate. 

Lea groans and Terra feels it’s well deserved. 

Well deserved… the suit may be. The future wife, maybe not. The suit is a glove for every finger with no excess. It makes him a good-looking groom, a nice addition to the closet for any special occasion. The bride is beautiful, no matter what she wears. She is loyal, patient, strong, intelligent, loving, funny when she’s stern, too good for him, a divine gift he didn’t earn and he still can’t understand how she said yes.

“I hope you’re laughing at the face of my misery,” Lea says.

Terra knows that’s sarcasm. Weddings are headaches, emotions are terrifying and Terra needs Aqua like a sip of medicinal tea to calm down.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The others squeal when they walk into Le Grand Bistro. It’s sunset, the city lights already ignited and giving it the glow of evening fairies welcoming the moon. They’ve just discussed dresses—Xion requests a pantsuit instead, which looks stellar—and they can choose their own styles so long as they all wear the color of night. Simple, elegant. That’s the kind of effect Aqua prefers. Thank goodness they’re almost done. Aqua couldn’t handle more hands in her hair and she rejected the flower crown that would have come down on one side to compensate for the lack of length. 

She fiddles with the ring—a thin, intricate design weaved around a small, blue stone—as a waiter escorts them to the kitchen. On days when she doesn’t have missions, she wears it.

Aqua is getting married. Some part of her wonders about the surreality of it, like it’s a dream or a picture she created in her mind when she was a child, at the altar with a faceless person next to her. Sometimes, it feels like she is already married. Terra has always been with her. Every day in class. Every day strolling through the woods. Every day sparring, sharing meals, bickering and laughing. Her best friend, her confidant, her rock.

There is something about nearly dying that challenges perspective. When they both thought they’d never see each other again, it made them realize there’s more to it and there’s been more to it for years. The emotional intimacy that strengthened after the fact. The physicality of it, when he takes her to bed. They argue differently, they laugh the same. Terra has always been with her, so what is the difference between being with him and being married to him? A part of her is eager to find out. The other is already at peace, a kind of joy Aqua has always wanted.

Ven is in the kitchen, talking with Remy (responding to Remy, who is naturally unintelligible). Plates of cake pieces sprawl out on the table, eliciting oohs and aahs from the others, all patient like they’re waiting for Aqua’s permission to take a small bite.

Aqua reads through the description of flavors—strawberry, fudge, angel food cake with blueberries, red velvet, even coffee. “The one we requested isn’t here.”

“You mean…” Ven pulls out his notepad and looks through his notes. Remy climbs onto Ven’s head, squeaking and pointing to a bowl of flour and eggs, unmixed. “Dark chocolate and rum?”

“That would be correct.”

“A spicy cake? Are you insane?” At his shock and at Aqua’s denial, Kairi helps herself to a spoonful of vanilla. “This is a wedding, not a club!”

“My wedding, Ven.” Aqua isn’t annoyed, but amused. Ven has such strong opinions about for some reason. 

“Try this one.” He holds up a plate of a decorated piece that honestly looks delicious. “Triple chocolate, with the rarest berries found in the woods, matured at thirty-five degrees Celsius for a week.” 

“Burnt cake?” Kairi asks with a smirk.

“Not the cake, the berries.” 

“Oh,” Xion gasps, with need in her eyes. It takes a nod from Aqua to grab a fork and have at it. She approaches each piece with so much excitement— Aqua wonders if there are flavors here she’s never tried before in her short life. 

“What will the final cake look like?” Naminé asks, the only one not to dive forward. She’s so gentle, so serene. When they were trying out dresses, everyone was saying what a beautiful bride she’ll be one day if she chooses. 

“Perfect,” Ven says, like it’s the most obvious thing. “It has to be perfect so it will look beautiful. Painted like a night sky, with stars everywhere. You got that, Remy?”

Remy glares at Ven.

“I want,” Aqua starts, and when Ven frowns, she smirks. Sometimes, for the sake of maintaining control, she has to play dirty. “Rosewater and cardamom.” 

Ven sticks his tongue out in disgust.

“Terra needs something to enjoy,” Aqua insists. “These are all too sweet for him.”

“Terra is the bane of my existence.”

“By the way, I don’t know if I want King Mickey and Queen Minnie to officiate.”

“You are way more difficult to deal with.”

Aqua and Ven have a staring contest as the others talk about their favorite flavors. Ven, a glare, a challenge to outwit her. Aqua, a calm knowing that she’s going to win. Ven relents.

���Fine,” he stresses. “Remy, change of plans. We’ll need some damage control. Let’s add some”—he writes into his notepad—“fruit pastries, sweet cheese with chocolate—”

“Triple chocolate,” Kairi adds.

“Custard and kiwi,” Xion says.

“All good choices.” Ven writes them down.

“Sea salt ice cream?” Naminé says, lifting a shoulder. “Everyone else eats them, I hope to try some.”

“Ven.” Kairi slams a hand on the table. “You need to add marshmallows covered in hazelnut and chocolate.”

“We need all the chocolate,” Ven agrees. “Call it revenge on this nasty cake.”

Kairi cackles, but it’s nothing malicious. They’re young and excited about the wedding, their suggestions a way of helping. Aqua takes it all in stride. The small details don’t matter, only the intent, and letting friends have fun deciding makes the entire process easier. What’s bothering her is Ven. He’s exhausted from taking it all too seriously. Aqua assumes the best intentions, but she doesn’t get it.

“You know what would be really cute?” Xion says. “Little petit fours shaped in your symbols.”

Ven blinks. “What symbols?”

“Oh, the Keyblade Master symbols.” Naminé claps her hands. “That would be so lovely.”

“In different colors,” Xion says.

“Each a different flavor,” Naminé adds. “Maybe the same colors as your Wayfinders?”

“You two are geniuses.” Ven taps his notepad. “Remy, we gotta get to work.”

Remy stomps a paw and squeaks vigorously.

“No worries. You’ll get paid.” Though it seems that’s the last thing on Remy’s mind.

“Ven,” Aqua says softly, pulling him aside as the others brainstorm ideas. “I don’t think we can afford all this.”

“Sure you can,” he says too confidently, though she and Terra were the ones to save up their munny. “Don’t worry,” he stresses when she’s not convinced, giving her a squeeze on the arm. “You asked me to bookkeep your finances” 

“Reminder that I did not ask you to take full responsibility. Remy can’t do all of this alone, he’s going to need you.”

“I’ve got plenty of time, and we’ve got plenty of budget.”

Aqua does not know how that is possible. After the dresses, the refitting of Terra’s tux, the decorations… sure, since they’re using the ballroom in the Land of Departure, they saved on not having to rent out a venue, but the original plan was to have a small, intimate wedding in the woods, something private with just the three of them, minimal decorations necessary, all plucked from nature. 

All of this is out of their price range.

Ven goes back to the table, back to the stovetop and oven where he follows Remy’s instructions and mixes the flour in the bowl with some milk. He doesn’t assuage her at all, like he knows something she doesn’t.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Home should be a solace but not when it’s the wedding rehearsal. 

Ven has ushered in movers from different worlds to carry in artifacts, all decorations, all star-themed. Terra has yet to see the ballroom, but the amount of people rushing through the hallways makes him nervous. 

Ever since Terra called Riku in the dead of night (in a panic, needing someone to talk to, alone in the kitchen with a cracked mug of tea), blabbing about tripping on the way to the altar, or cutting the cake clean through the table, or stepping on linen and ripping the curtains, or dropping his plate of food, or looking like an idiot on the dance floor, or worse—forgetting his vows—he hasn’t lived a moment of peace. Sora won’t let him. 

Terra finds it hard to breathe. What if he chokes on his vows and accidentally offends everyone?

He stays far away from the workers—it’s for the best. No one needs a huge bull stampeding in a china shop, destroying everything.

Lea crosses the hallway on his sixth trip and enters one of two entrances to the ballroom, vases of flowers in his hands. Terra peeks. From the looks of it, Ven did a fantastic job. 

The ballroom, once gold, now looks like the set of night. The ceiling is covered in blue with twinkling lights. The table linens are also dark, with napkins and silverware sets a solid gold. Glass windows that take up one entire side to the ballroom are bare of curtains—the wedding is planned for after sunset so they’d be declaring their vows under the stars. Two navy blue carpets come in through both entrances of the ballroom, meeting in the middle and then straight to the altar at the far end. The point is for him and Aqua to enter together, like equals. With her in a bridal dress, she’ll look like a light in the darkness.

Through the doorway, Terra can see Riku and Sora, the latter making motions with his arms as if he’s flapping like a bird. Terra lets the door close so they don’t notice him. 

There are fears he’s never voiced.

What if she realizes she doesn’t want to get married to him after all? At the altar no less?

Oh stars, what if he makes a terrible husband? 

What if he neglects her?

What if, years down the road, she realizes after a slowly oncoming epiphany that she isn’t happy and regrets it?

Tonight is the party, tomorrow is the wedding, and Terra still has no vows. He pinches his nose hard enough to distract him from crying. He’s already cried five times in the arc of three hours.

Footsteps—light, brisque, confident, hers—approach him, and Terra embraces her in his arms, taking her in with a needy kiss. She smells like home, she lets him breathe again. 

“You look like you’re about to fall apart,” she says, stroking a thumb on his cheek.

“Not if you’re my glue.”

She snorts, smacking him on the bicep. “What did I say about the puns?”

“Shower you with them.”

He kisses her before she can roll her eyes—

—and gets interrupted the moment Ven peeks out of one door. 

“What’s with the hold-up?” he says.

Terra breaks from the kiss, casually noticing how Aqua is patting his shoulder, as if to warn him. “What’s with your attitude?”

Ven pouts like he’s about to choke and slaps the notepad to his forehead. “No one listens to me. I said baby blue and champagne on the napkins, all shaped to form the constellation of Juno… and they gave me yellow. I am gonna complain so much.”

“There are worse things?” Terra says and Aqua shakes his shoulder as another warning. 

Ven snaps his eyes open. “Get into position, we’re starting.”

Aqua stands behind one door and Terra goes to the other, waiting for the cue to enter. On the other side, Ven is speaking out loud, organizing people and where they should stand. Grooms and bridesmaids will enter the altar from behind and gather together, leaving the carpet only for the star couple (no pun intended). He interrupts himself, raising his voice about vases that match too much and Terra can imagine him pointing across the room.

“I have to tell you something,” Aqua loudly whispers from the other side of the hall. 

Terra runs to her and wraps an arm around her waist. Touching her is a panacea. Despite knowing there is still a possibility she’ll rethink this entire relationship, it seems unreal, like a nightmare.

“It’s about Ven,” she continues, keeping her voice low even though they’re the only ones in the hall.

“Lea threatened to slap him.”

She frowns.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Don’t you think it’s too expensive?”

“I don’t know. Ven doesn’t tell me how much anything costs.”

“It’s way more than we have saved up.”

Terra gapes. “Then how—?”

Aqua stammers, fiddling with her fingers. “I looked into his books.”

Terra melts into a breath-heavy laugh, careful to keep his voice out of it. “Reading people’s diaries? Aqua, I thought I knew you better.”

She blushes. “I didn’t mean to, but I was worried.” Now Terra is worried. Her expression is too serious. “Ven has been doing side-missions and hustles for months just to earn enough to hire the best chefs and tailors, to buy linens and all these flowers and carpets—” 

“He wouldn’t.”

“He did.”

“Why?” 

“I think it’s because he wants us to be happy.”

“We are.” Terra doesn’t appreciate how he doesn’t sound confident, scared he’s assuming too much on her behalf. “How could he just…”

“We were stuck in darkness for so long and he couldn’t help us.”

“But that’s not his fault.”

“He feels he is the weakest and wants to compensate.” Aqua grimaces and she blinks back tears. 

“I feel so guilty.”

“I feel worse.”

“Why?”

Aqua bites her lip. “I’m still attached to the idea of a small, intimate ceremony in the woods. Just the three of us. Does that make me a horrible person?”

“No. Our wedding has become a spectacle. Maybe pointing that out makes me terrible, too.”

She groans. “I found a book. I left it in your room. It’s very last minute, but there are some ancient rituals in there that I found so beautiful… the exchanging of rings is beautiful, too, but modern and there are some lost traditions from our Keyblade history that I’d love to do instead... if you could take a look?” 

The way she smiles, stars. Ancient, modern, he’d do anything for her. “Sure. I’ll read it tonight.”

Aqua winces. “He’ll be so angry with us.”

Terra squeezes her hand. “He wants us to be happy. Think about that.”

One of the doors burst open, and Lea sticks his head out. “Kindly stop being an ass and don’t keep your guests waiting anymore?”

They start: Terra at one entrance, Aqua on the other, entering the ballroom at the same time, where guests will watch them approach one another, like the shadow of the moon to a star. They meet at the point where their lanes merge into one. 

Terra offers his arm—

“Nonono,” Ven warns, running up to them. “You can’t meet her like this. You must bow at a forty-degree angle.” Ven scans the room frantically. “Here, I have a ruler.”

After that hiccup, Aqua finally takes Terra’s arm, walking down the single aisle, where guests can ogle at them. Their groomsmen and bridesmaids take pictures with their Gummiphones for their arrival at a wall of flowers. 

Sora has his hands behind his head and snickers when they reach the end. “I made sure the carpet is ironed out so she doesn’t fall with you.”

“I’m going to kick you in the shins,” Terra says.

He snorts and wipes his nose. “I’ll kick you back.”

At the altar, Ven is too excited to stop rambling. “We have to make sure that you arrive here, at this spot, at exactly nine-thirty so we can finish the vows at ten because...” He frames the windows with his hands. “We’ve got a perfect spot for star sighting so we need to be on time.”

“Do you mean, right after the wedding ceremony?” Aqua asks. 

“Before the reception, yup. We’re walking out to the balcony, we’ll watch the meteor shower where a new world will be born, then we’ll come back in for supper and dancing.” When he notices their stupefied faces, he continues, “I spent three weeks finding the right angulations so you can witness a unique astronomical event, and we’ve got a miracle of a spot right here so we can’t be late.”

“It’s a wonderful thought, Ven,” Aqua says, her voice shaky.

“Okay, now you get into position and face each other.” He points and they follow. “Next, Mickey and Minnie will talk some stuff, you know, all official, and then you say your vows.”

Terra freezes up. “Our vows.”

“Yeah. That’s what I said. You ready?”

Terra hesitates and Aqua speaks for him. “We’re keeping those a secret until tomorrow.”

Ven pauses, then shrugs. “Fair enough.”

Aqua doesn’t let Terra have another thought, leaning forward to kiss him in front of everyone (aahs and awws elicited), and ending the rehearsal.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“How do you get your skin so clear?” Kairi asks, though the warm glow of the fire makes for spectacular lighting. 

They’re camping in the woods near the waterfall, equipped with warm blankets and pillows, a bowl of cookies, and toasted marshmallows on sticks; Aqua’s vision of a bachelorette party. No gifts necessary.

“Mountain spring water does wonders for you,” Aqua says.

“I’ve read in a magazine,” Xion says, crawling out of her sleeping bag, “that some people like to put mud on their faces to get clean skin.”

“Why?” Naminé asks, chewing on a marshmallow.

“Something about the properties. Lots of good minerals.” She walks over to the creek, digging her hands into the dirt and smashing it into her face against the shocks and cries of the other girls. “If mountain water is good for you, then that must mean this mud is magical.” 

“Is that true?” Kairi says, though she’s asking no one. She hurries over and joins in on the mud-mashing, running fingers over Xion’s face in places she’s missed.

With globs of mud in their hands, they bring over the excess to the camp. 

Xion offers it to Aqua. “For beautiful skin on your special day?”

“It’s our job to pamper,” Kairi says with her hands out so that Naminé can scoop up the mud on her own. 

Aqua tries not to chuckle too loudly. It’s adorable. “Okay,” she says, and Xion gets to work, massaging it into her skin. It smells unpleasant, earthy and mukky. She closes her eyes and tries to relax regardless.

“I think we’re supposed to keep it on our faces for at least a half hour,” Xion says, rubbing more on Aqua’s nose. 

“This will make us prettier?” Naminé asks.

“Cleaner,” Kairi says. 

Naminé blinks, already covered in the mud and hesitating to put on more. “But we look dirty,” she says quietly.

“Can I request something, Miss Aqua?” Xion says, patting her fingers onto Aqua’s forehead.

“Certainly.”

“Can you tell us the story of how Terra proposed?”

Kairi jumps and squeals, and Naminé claps her hands, both of them chattering please, please, we’re dying to know.

“We’re around a fire,” Kairi says, as if that’s a convincing argument. “We’re supposed to tell stories.” 

“I feel bad for asking,” Naminé says. “You’re very private, and I don’t want to intrude…”

Aqua reads her face. “But you’re curious.”

Naminé pouts. Xion’s eyes go wide, and Kairi nods excitedly. Everyone is guilty as charged.

“It’s a simple story, I guess,” Aqua says, crossing her legs and watching the fire. It’s not often that she talks so openly about the details of her relationship. The two of them together is something people know, but never knowing where they come from and why, except for Ven—even then, there’s so much he never pries to. Watching their reactions is a little overwhelming. She rubs the stone on her ring. “Terra made the engagement ring with his own hands, but he took months to propose.”

“I remember that,” Xion says, sitting on her chair and smiling. “It annoyed Lea so much that he offered to set you both up just to get it over with.”

Aqua laughs. “I’m grateful we had it to ourselves.”

“Was it romantic?” Kairi asks.

“Not at all. I… knew he was up to something. I know him.” She lifts a shoulder. “He was burning breakfast too often, he couldn’t look me directly in the eye, and he left on his own to do more missions than usual. I took that as though he had done something wrong. The last time he was that clumsy and avoidant, it was because he accidentally cast Firaga in the library and was trying to hide it. Or when he broke the oven. Or when he offered to do my laundry but didn’t know how to treat my fabric and ruined my clothes.”

“He sounds like a clumsy oaf,” Kairi says.

That makes Aqua smile. She loves that oaf. “He is. The general rule of thumb is that a clumsy, avoidant Terra is usually hiding something.”

“So how did the proposal happen?” Naminé asks.

“I cornered him—”

Kairi snorts.

“—and he blurted it out.”

They giggle, Kairi acting out how that may have looked and Naminé holding her hands over her heart in a show of genuine affection. 

Aqua smiles to herself, a finger to her lips. It might be her favorite memory, her standing her ground and demanding to know what was going on. 

Terra, looking all around the terrace except for her face, guilty, guilty, guilty, pulling a box out of his pocket and stammering for a cohesive sentence. Well, I don’t know what to say, he had said, like a child getting grounded. I-I’m sorry. I’m dumb, I’m a big lump of a human being. He paused, his cheeks rounding up like he was about to vomit. Will…will you marry me, anyway?

It felt like racing in a train and pulling all the stops, crashing. He got red in the face, tears welling in his eyes and she realized he took her silence as rejection. Aqua had to hold his forearms, and all she could utter was a soft, I genuinely thought you burned down a building.

Terra’s eyes went wide. Do you mean you’re not mad?

Of course not. Why would I be?

So… He licked his lips, reaching for her but not touching her, forgetting that he had the box with the ring inside. What do you say? I mean, you don’t have to give me an answer straight away. I mean, I just thought you would… you know… because… He sighed. Yeah.

Aqua finally laughed, and kissed him on the cheek. Of course I will marry you, you beautiful dork.

The laughter quiets around the fire. They’re waiting for Aqua to continue her story.

“Then he drops the ring.”

They howl, melting into a blissful exchange of cheers and gossip, a vibrant hearth brighter than the one keeping them warm. 

“I had hoped to propose first, actually,” Aqua continues. She shrugs. “The end.”

“That was beautiful,” Naminé says, wiping her eyes.

“If Sora hears about this, he’ll never leave Terra alone,” Kairi says, grinning something mischievous. 

“I don’t know what love is supposed to look like,” Xion says thoughtfully, gazing at the sky. “But it sounds sweet.”

In Aqua’s opinion, the proposal was perfect, him scattered on the ground frantically searching for the ring, her on her knees helping him. How he slipped it on her finger, how they kissed for an hour in the dirt, unaware that they were dusty, unaware that anyone else existed in the world. 

Aqua nods, mostly to herself. It aches to be away from Terra tonight but it burns her insides to see him tomorrow and finally do this. Aqua wants to sleep and get this night over with but she doesn’t want to sleep so she could see the sunrise, knowing he’d be up early watching the same thing.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Bachelor parties aren’t fun.

Sora is whooping about a cannonball, the water splashing when he makes contact. Ven and Roxas race to the lake, testing who will be the first to dive, the first to swim across and come back. Considering the expanse of the surface area, they’ll be gone for a while and the barbecue will get cold, but maybe it’s for the best. It’s not the right time to talk to Ven right now, not when all of them have a moment of fun (except for Terra, the only one here thinking about tomorrow). Lea and Isa prefer to relax, sipping drinks on their chairs by the lanterns erected onto the sand, speaking quietly about memories, about chores, about home and what ifs. 

Terra sits by himself, the thin booklet Aqua gave him on his lap, tucked under layers of parchment. It’s titled The Way, no author. She was right: old Keyblade rituals are interesting, almost possessive, their focus on the literal binding of hearts. They’re from the Age of Fairytales, and Terra realizes as he reads through it that ancient Keyblade wielders were for some reason obsessed with the loss of memory and the prevention of it. The rituals sound painful, too—maybe Aqua has developed a mild taste of macabre from her time in the Realm of Darkness. 

All Terra has left to do are his vows. His stupid, dorky-sounding vows. He should have accepted the simple, “I do.” He shouldn’t have waited until the last minute.

He’s tried dramatic.

You are my other half, my heart, my breath of life, my sky, my angel, can we keep our souls together? 

He’s tried poetic.

The mountain will thirst if not for the water— 

He’s tried being honest.

I don’t know why you love me, but I’ll do my best to make it up to you.

All dumb.

Terra groans into his hands, eyes wide in existential blunder. 

“Keep doing that,” Riku says, setting a chair next to him and sitting down, “and you won’t be able to blink again.”

“I’m not finished.”

“But if you don’t sleep, then you’re more likely to have accidents.”

Terra gapes and almost whacks Riku on the side of the head from the sight of his constricted smirk. “You’re so mean. I called you one time.”

“In a huge panic talking about causing mass destruction of a wedding the worlds have never seen.” Riku shrugs nonchalantly. That’s his state of being—too cool for anything, too sensitive for everything. It’s refreshing. “It was the funniest phone conversation I’ve ever had.”

“I’ll never call you again.”

“Not in the middle of the night, please no.” Riku bites a forkful of steak. “Is it cliché to tell you to speak from the heart?”

“This entire conversation is cliché, but here I am, living it out.” Terra stares at his messy pages, where he pressed the pen so hard that it left ink blots.

“You could do the very committal thing and tell her you love her fifty times.”

“All the guests would leave by the time I reach twenty-five.”

“More like fifteen.”

“Ten.”

“Disaster.”

Terra grimaces, not entirely comforted, but not entirely anxious anymore, either. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“It is a big deal, I’ll give you that,” Riku says, more serious. “I don’t have any advice.”

“None of it makes sense. Be honest, but not too honest. Be loving, but don’t make it cheesy. Express yourself, but hold back on certain things. Do make it personal. Don’t expose personal details. How am I supposed to know how to do it right?” 

It would be easier if there are no witnesses. If it’s just Ven, if Aqua is the only person he’s talking to, if he could simply say, You’ve been my best friend for as long as I can remember. I know I’ve fucked up. For as long as I live, I’ll never do that again. I will never take your forgiveness for granted.

And if she doesn’t want to be with him anymore, there’d be nothing he could say to make her stay.

“I think if Aqua was the kind of person who expected you to do it right,” Riku says, looking out to the lake where Ven and Roxas are swimming back to their shore, “you wouldn’t be marrying her.”

Terra bends the pages, exposing the cover of the thin, leather bound booklet. There are no vows he could use in there, except for the officiator declaring their hearts intertwined. “Thank you,” he mumbles.

“Sorry I can’t be of more help.” 

Riku pats him on the shoulder and leaves him alone to take a walk, Sora begging him to enter the water. Terra flips to a page where he’s repeated I love you, I love you all over, each in different calligraphy, like doodling, like losing his mind and procrastinating the night away, hoping that any moment, inspiration would drop bricks on him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It’s time.

The strangest part of the day is waiting it out in her bedroom until it’s her turn to show herself. Over the years, her bedroom has been a reflection of her personality. The cleanliness, the artifacts from her home world long ago, the size of the bed, the furniture—they all stayed the same. What’s come and gone were the paint colors, the bedsheets, the art on the wall, the smaller vanity mirror. Her bedroom is her old life, and she sits in front of the mirror in her bride’s dress, about to start a new one. For now, they both collide, as though her childhood doesn’t know her.

The cape dress is simple, plain white with the neck scooped across the collarbone. The sleeves slit at the shoulders, draping over to the floor with the rest of the train. Aqua couldn’t have asked for something better. She completes the look with the ring, a jeweled hair pin on one side, and an armored choker. Makeup is minimal. 

Aqua is surprisingly calm and the sun is going down. 

Her Gummiphone buzzes with a text message.

Terra

Let’s do it

Aqua sighs, not texting back immediately.

Aqua

I don’t want to break Ven’s heart

Terra

I’ll talk to him

We can both get what we want

I already stole some flowers from the wall

Don’t think he notices

She chuckles, moving a hair strand behind her ear. She hasn’t noticed that her stomach has been a knot, from excitement, from nerves, from anticipation. The sun takes so long to set. Terra is the warmth of a tight blanket.

Aqua

Will this label me as a runaway bride?

Terra takes a long time to answer, giving her the impression that he must have been distracted and forgot to reply. 

It buzzes.

Terra

The shame

Aqua

What will they think when they find out the groom seduced her to it

Terra

The scandal 

when they hear how she met him secretly at the creek 

an hour before the ceremony

It sounds like an action plan. Aqua picks up her bouquet of orange roses and bluestars from her vanity table, heading out the door.

Aqua

I want Ven there

Terra

Definitely

I love you

Aqua

I love you too

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Terra finds Ven in the dining room, taking inventory of an indulgement of sweets and a feast of meats, fritters, and rice. The wedding cake is as tall as his body, a dark blue with smacks of gold glitter in the shapes of galaxies, large stars framing each layer, and topped with two halos. Ven is mostly dressed in his vest and tie, the suit missing. By comparison, Terra is overdressed, a groom ready for his encore.

Ven sighs when he sneaks a cookie the shape of the Keyblade Master symbol into his mouth, as though Terra’s presence reminds him of disappointment. 

“I couldn’t tame the cicadas,” he says morosely, like he’s apologizing, and for a moment Terra second-guesses what he’s about to do. Ven eyes the white rope curled around Terra’s shoulder. “What’s that for?”

“This may either cheer you up or piss you off,” Terra says, dropping The Way on the counter.

“I don’t like how you said that.” As Ven flips through pages, he frowns, chewing on the side of his lip. “Are you... not happy with the wedding preparations?”

Terra inhales, caught off guard. “Of course I am. Happy, I mean. It’s… huge. It’s a giant ordeal.”

“And you don’t like that,” Ven says quietly, stroking one of the pages with his thumb.

“I think there are things we’ve always wanted to have privately.” Terra sits on a stool, but Ven won’t look him in the eye. “And we want you to be there. We can do it now. We’ll be back in time for our guests.”

The booklet shakes in his hands. “I messed up.”

“From my point of view, I’ll be eating very well tonight. There’s nothing to compensate for.”

Ven closes the book. “I just wanted to do a good job.”

“If you allow Lea to slap you, he’ll forgive you.” Terra smiles, but Ven doesn’t join him. “We’re still doing your grand ceremony—that, we could never pull off on our own. But we also want something tiny and ours, and we won’t do this without you.” Terra takes Ven’s hand and squeezes it, before glancing at the cake. “I hope it’s delicious.”

“It’s disgusting so you’ll definitely like it.”

“See, I can always count on you.” Terra stands up. “Now come on. You wouldn’t want us to be late for the bride.”

Terra takes him to the creek, not far from where Aqua hosted her bachelorette camp, where the sound of rushing water is gentle and the creek splits into two directions, one that would drip off the side of a cliff and one that would join a massive river downstream. The trees huddle close in the clearing, a soft shadow from the fierceness of the setting sun, like a pocket of protective magic in the middle of the forest. 

Ven gasps. “You stole my flowers.”

“Please, you didn’t even notice.” Terra had built an easy wooden arbor before the crack of dawn that morning, an arch weaved with orange and blue flowers, spotted every so often with green lilies. He showered right after so no one would suspect.

“Let’s take it over there.” Ven points to a short boulder against a tree nearby, a good photo op. They pluck the arbor up from both sides and plant it in front of the boulder. Ven takes stock of the sight. “Not bad.”

“Thanks!”

“I take credit for the choice of flowers.” Ven rolls the rope into a tight circle, layering it on the boulder with each loop in equal circumference. He splays the book open and studies. “It’s kinda creepy,” he says though he gets no response and he doesn’t ask for one.

Terra shoves his hands into the pockets of his tuxedo and waits. Aqua isn’t here yet. The vest constricts his breathing, the thicket suddenly feels humid, and Terra wipes his cheek, realizing that his heart is beating fast. Time sped up to this moment and dropped him here without warning. Now it’s slowing down out of pure, unjustifiable spite to torture him in the final hour. 

“You okay, dude?” Ven asks.

Terra lifts his face to the sky to keep the tears in his eyes. “If I cry now, I think I’ll cry for the rest of the night.”

Ven snorts. “No one would be surprised, trust me.”

But it’s not working. He’s two seconds from sobbing. “I don’t know. I…” He scoffs. “I can’t believe it’s happening. I’m expecting her to never show up or brush me off last minute when she realizes what we’re doing—”

“No.” Ven approaches Terra like he’s about to punch him in the stomach to make a point. “Don’t think like that, she’d never do that.” 

Ven has good faith and better timing. Aqua approaches the other side of the clearing, the fabric of her dress gracefully making waves with every step, the foliage fluttering light and shadow on her figure. She holds her bouquet in one hand and a framed photograph tucked under the other.

It shocks Terra.

He can’t stop the flow of tears. He covers his shivering lips and the drip of his nose, his face twisting from the sight of her—brilliant, like she’s made of stars, a gift walking the earth.

“Terra, are you okay?” Aqua asks, rushing to him now, the train of her dress bouncing behind her. 

In the flash of an instinct, Terra runs to meet her, tripping over a branch and landing right into her arms. 

“You’re—” Terra sucks air in, his heart shoving itself up his esophagus. “Y-you’re s-so beautiful.”

Aqua uses her pinky to wipe his tears. “So are you.”

“Let me help you.” He takes the frame—a portrait of the Master, bordered with a white ribbon—and walks her to the arbor. Ven takes the portrait and places it on the boulder, their little family tied together, fractured in glued pieces, now and always. Before they start, Terra asks Aqua to pose under the arbor so he can take a picture of the trees and the flowers surrounding her. Beautiful.

“How do we do this?” Terra asks when he finds his voice again, still trembling. Aqua stands to the side to take her place. She’s beautiful.

Ven takes the book in his hands. The description of this ritual covers at most two pages. “Well, it’s archaic. It’s from the Age of Fairytales but it sounds like we will intertwine your hearts—but in an intense way, like we’re sewing them together.”

Aqua holds her bouquet to her chest. “Shall we start?”

Terra chuckles too hard, gasping for breath. “Simple as that.”

They wait for Ven’s cue, who also has no idea how to do anything. Ven clears his throat, shrugs his shoulders, and reads:

“We witness today the soldering of two hearts. To intertwine like the roots of a tree, the severance painful, the nourishment plentiful. A physical bond, a magical one, the merging of two sprites under the guidance of one truth. Two hearts, but one.” Terra watches the way Aqua watches him. There’s no one else in the world, Ven’s voice disconnected, like it floats on air. “Now it says to summon your Keyblades. Dig the tips into the ground, and offer your hilts to each other.”

Ends of the Earth is massive, taller than Ven. Stormfall looks delicate but it’s menacing, sharp, direct. They offer their hilts, the shafts crossed over each other, Stormfall light and airy in his hand, Ends of the Earth weighty and thick in hers. 

Terra finds it interesting that they’re using the hilt to connect each other’s hearts—the Keyblade should never be used against a person’s heart in traditional Mastery, because it’s such a dangerous weapon and it’s so violating. The blunt hilt, on the other hand, the physical manifestation of their hearts, is like exposure, an offer of vulnerability. 

Aqua’s feels like it’s thrumming, singing. She’s happy.

Ven steps forward with the rope and ties it over the hilts in loops. “This is just an image, the ties that bind, two Keyblades, but one. To intertwine a heart is to forge a chain, a friend, a companion, a memory. If missing then a void, a dream, a wish until reunion.” He steps back into position. “Before we go on, I think this would be a nice place to say your vows. Terra, you first.”

Terra stammers, looking into her eyes. “I-I couldn’t write one. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Ven whispers, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket. “I wrote some just in case.”

Terra doesn’t take it. He licks his lips. “It wouldn’t have been graceful. None of it—all of my thoughts—pale in comparison to you, Aqua.” He steadies himself with labored breathing, the squeeze on her Keyblade like a hold on her waist. “You’re so, so beautiful, and I’ve spent my days believing I don’t deserve you, because… because I couldn’t make things right like I should have.” 

Aqua quivers, gently touching his arm with her free hand and motioning for him to breathe. 

He continues, “I’m sorry. I wish the Master was here. I wish I was smart enough to prevent it from happening.” He inhales, choking up from the mention of Eraqus. “I never thought you would marry me of all people, so… I promise... I will be there every step of the way. I promise you, if you’re scared at night, I’ll be there to protect you. If you’re hurting in another world, I’ll come find you. If you’re confused, I’ll hold you close and help you make sense of it. I’ll brew you tea to help you sleep, I’ll step in the line of fire even if you wish to do the same for me, I’ll walk to the ends of the earth to make sure you are safe and healthy. I promise I’ll be with you.

“And I’ll mess up. I know me. I’ll fix it. If you want to clobber me, I’ll be patient. I’ll learn. I’ll do better. Every day you save me from myself. This is the least I can do. I’ve loved you since I was a kid. I’ll love you every day.”

Silence falls on all of them, Terra sniffing just to get some fresh air, Ven wiping his eyes, Aqua blinking too much. 

“Now you, Aqua,” Ven says. 

Despite being teared up, Aqua holds it together. She’s so good at that.

“Terra, I stand with you because I do want to be here. I do want to be by your side. I do want to laugh at your bad jokes.” She relieves a giggle. “I love you. I have for as long as I can remember, even if I didn’t know the words for it.” She studies his face. “I’m sure the Master is here with us, and he couldn’t be prouder of you. I’m proud of you.” Suddenly, she switches her tone, as if to lecture. “And if you even fathom taking a hit for me, remember that I’m faster than you. I’ll protect you first.” Then she softens. “I promise to be your shelter when the storm falls on us. I promise to sit on your bedside when you’re sick, to lift you up when you’re down about yourself, because you are sometimes. 

“You are my home, no matter how far your heart is from me. If you need a star to light your way back, I’ll give it to you.” She smiles widely, like she’s about to laugh. “If something between us breaks, I’ll mend it with you. I can’t imagine my life any other way.”

Their words are now spoken. Aqua suppresses a laugh and grins like a child. Terra holds his breath, just in case he screams from every emotion that he can’t name.  

“Well,” Ven says, rolling his sleeve up so he could wipe his nose on his forearm. “I guess it’s time. This bond is an oath you will remember each other until you close your eyes for the last time, for the tragedy to forget is to be alone forever. Do you accept this?”

“I do,” Terra says.

Aqua hums. “Yes, I do.”

Ven smiles. “You know what to do.”

With his free hand, Terra presses two fingers to his chest, over his heart, where he builds a golden glow. Twenty years living with her, ten years in darkness thinking about her, this vow is impossible to break—even if they can’t do this any longer, Terra could never forget her. Never. In his hand is now a piece of himself, a nugget of his heart, a memory of her in his bed that he never wants to lose.

He takes those fingers to her chest, two thick golden threads drawn out from his heart. She winces at the touch, quick to dissolve. Stormfall shifts in his hand, growing longer, its hilt thicker and darker, wrapping around like a weaved shield. A subtle change, a little piece of him.

Aqua does the same, fingers to her chest first to create the threads, bringing them to his chest. It does hurt, like a needle digging into his skin, sharp for the entire length until it’s suddenly gone. 

He feels full, as though his insides are creating space for something extra. Warm, frightening, whole, exciting. Her piece is a memory he can’t read but he doesn’t need to. Ends of the Earth opens way for an icy blade to cut through the middle as the hilt fans out like wings. A piece of her to take with him where he goes.

“Alright,” Ven chirps, snapping the booklet closed. “The book ends with the quote, Two hearts, only one, but I think this means I can call you husband and wife in secret. So kiss.”

Their Keyblades dissipate when they hold each other, tender but with appetite, unaware of their surroundings for several selfish moments. With sewn threads, it’s as though he breathes through her. Terra presses her onto him, feeling how her heart now beats in sync with his.

“I love you,” she whispers. They are married. 

He’ll never tire of hearing it. Stars, they are married. “I love you, too.”

Terra hears Ven sniff before a handkerchief is shoved into his face. “You need your face dry and clean before everyone sees you,” Ven says. 

The sunset now is deep, a fiery orange. Terra doesn’t want to let go.

“I’ll hold you again tonight,” Aqua says, patting his chest. “I want to see the meteor shower Ven promised.”

“It’ll be a good one,” Ven assures.

Terra kisses her. “Then we have to make a run for it.” He picks Ven up like a log, jogging through the thicket of the forest with Aqua close behind him, the Master in her arms. When they approach the castle, in the twilight, they hear chatter coming from the halls, as though ghosts are partying outside. 

Terra feels at peace despite that he now has to perform, balancing on a tightrope where he doesn’t care if he falls. He turns around and holds her neck to kiss her again, feeling her laughter in his mouth. “One more?” he asks when they break. 

Ven, still tucked in Terra’s arm, groans. “I never asked for a front seat to the kissing show. Is this my punishment?”

Aqua kisses him one more time, whispering to him I love you for what will be a string of I love you’s in the night to come. Friends will cheer, Terra will trip on the way to the altar, Sora will cry because Terra will cry, Xion will eat too much cake and get sick, Isa will laugh because he is drunk, Kairi will be the star of the dance, Aqua will be the star in his eyes. 

[thetomorrowshow]

unless you take your army back

Hello and welcome to the sequel to my work i will make the sky collapse! You honestly do not have to read the first one to understand this one--the first was a Crutchie-centric whump-focused refuge story, and this one is about his recovery and Jack coming to terms with what happened (and maybe some,,, sprace).

So yeah! This is chapter one! Content warnings will be posted at the beginning of each chapter :) This is a queued post, so as soon as I have time to post it on AO3 I’ll update this with the link.

cw: blood, brief description of injury

~

On the same day they won the strike, there were a good dozen kids clamoring to be a newsie, appearing out of nowhere with the sole purpose of bothering Jack. He didn’t really want to care--they could be a newsie all they wanted--but the problem was they all needed a start-up fund. They all wanted Jack to foot the cost of their first papes and first week of room and board, and though he had just gotten a job offer and an improved living overall, he just didn’t have the time or money to train so many penniless kids. So he sent them to Spot Conlon, of course.

It was pretty clear that these kids all came from the Refuge, which had just been shut down by the governor. Jack had never been happier than he was when he saw the cop drag Snyder away in chains. The nagging question that was slowly coming to the front of his mind, though, was where was Crutchie?

Katherine had been here for the short celebration, but had seemed distracted and had left almost immediately, without giving Jack a chance to ask after his brother. He wanted to go look for the kid, comb through the Refuge and the streets surrounding it, but Davey had regretfully told him he couldn’t leave. He was the union leader, and a nice official union it was at that. He actually couldn’t even sell right now, he had to return to Pulitzer’s office and continue working on a bunch of paperwork registering the union or something. Pulitzer had told him that they would be working together occasionally due to his new position as leader of the Newsboys Union, which apparently meant that whenever there was a problem on either of their ends they had to include the other in their solving of the problem. It made sense to Jack, what he didn’t get was why he had to read a billion papers telling him it made sense.

Katherine did not ride with him and Mr. Pulitzer in the carriage back to his office, and she didn’t come and see him when he left late in the afternoon, but maybe she was just at work. There was a lot to report, after all. Jack wished it didn’t hurt. There was no way it was intentional, they all had a lot going on right now. It wasn't like he'd gone looking for her, after all. He'd see her tomorrow, cross paths on the way to work.

What with all the stressful arrangements and intense discussions, Jack was more tired than he usually was by the time he entered the lodging house. In later days, he wished that he had spoken to Mush, waiting anxiously outside. He wished that he had not gone with Pulitzer to his office, and instead sought out Katherine straightaway. Most of all, he wished that he had gone personally to the Refuge, made sure to set those kids free himself.

He didn’t do any of those things, though. Instead, he walked home from Pulitzer’s office, nodded to Mush, and went straight inside.

-

Katherine was there, which was odd, but certainly not unwelcome. According to Race, she had spent time with them without him, just celebrating with them and getting to know them all. That was fine, but most girls didn’t seek out a bunch of street rat teenage boys as preferred company.

Not only was Katherine there, but half of the newsies were seemingly just waiting by the door, dropping what they’d been doing and standing to stare at him. Sure, Jack was something of a celebrity now--and he had betrayed them more than once, which could be the reason also--but they looked almost guilty.

“Jack,” Katherine started, and Jack saw that sorry look on her face and his heart dropped. What could this be about? He’d been with Pulitzer all day, so it wasn’t like the old man had turned on them. Where was Crutchie? Was he--he couldn’t be. Right? No.

“Jack,” she said again, and now she was crying. Jack wanted to kiss the tears off her face, tell her she never needed to cry again, but he couldn’t. He had to know--his stomach was roiling, threatening to toss up whatever bite he’d eaten earlier. Something had happened, and it--it couldn’t be--

“It’s Crutchie,” Katherine said, and Jack had a brief moment of huh, so that’s how swoonin’ feels before he was on his knees. He can’t have died. Crutchie was--well, Crutchie. He was just as capable as any newsie, could sell papes twice as well as half of them, and was stronger than anyone Jack knew--certainly far stronger than himself. But if Snyder--if the Refuge--if--

“He’s alive,” Katherine hurried to say, kneeling on the floor beside him, and Jack let out a choked laugh, only just realizing he was crying.

“Ya couldn’ta said that sooner?” he asked weakly, and Katherine sniffled, trying to regain composure.

“He’s alive,” she repeated, “but he isn’t doing well at all. He wanted to see you, but I think he’s still asleep.”

In seconds, Jack was back on his feet, pulling her up with him. “Let’s go,” he said, pulling her towards the bunkroom. “I gotta see ‘im.”

He ignored her cries of “Jack, wait, you have to know--” and took the stairs two at a time, yanking open the door as soon as it was in front of him. The room was dead silent for once, and only one bed was occupied (despite the fact that he’d told Romeo to rest up today after the strike). Over by the open window on the far wall, a figure was laying in the only bed without a top bunk (the one that belonged to Jack, seeing as he was in charge).

Jack could barely hold back a retch as he came closer, seeing the matted hair crusted in blood, but sticking straight up, same as always. Crutchie was sleeping almost peacefully on the bed, the blankets tucked around him messily, as if one of the boys had tried his very best to arrange it like a mother would. His face was swollen and cut up, almost unrecognizable as his brother, though his neck was what caught Jack’s attention. A brownish-purple bruise in the vague shape of a gripped hand was found there, where the fingers had dug in marked by little round black bruises, a sick imitation of a constellation crossing his brother’s throat.

Jack’s fists curled into tight balls as he stared down at Crutchie, seeing red. The rest of his body was hidden by the covers, excepting a stiff arm that was tightly wrapped in gauze. The collar of his undershirt was the only part of his clothes visible, and it was stained brown and torn. 

There were two sides of Jack warring for dominance. One screamed at him to storm down to the county jail right this moment and give Snyder everything he deserved. The other side tried to pull him to the floor, weeping at Crutchie’s bedside. Jack fought both, not wanting to seem weak in front of Katherine, who was watching him with that soft-concerned look on her face that he had already come to know too well. He needed to get alone, needed space, needed a moment to cope with what he’d just been confronted with so that he could best help Crutchie later.

Jack calmly left the room, replying something along the lines of fine, just need a minute when Katherine asked tentatively if he was okay. Then he walked slowly down the steps and through the main room, where all of the newsies watched him silently. He nodded vaguely in their direction. Luckily, none of them asked any questions. If they had, Jack wasn’t sure that he would’ve been able to hold back the sobs.

Finally he was outside, and here he could run. Run he did, all the way around the side of the building and up the fire escape, running and running until all that existed was the clang! of his feet against the metal and the wind rushing past his ears. Then he was climbing the ladder to the very top, where only a week ago he and Crutchie had woken, excited to start striking for real.

Jack had woken early that morning, and had taken the time to sketch out the New York skyline against the starry night sky. It was a frequent subject of his, but that morning he had filled in himself and Crutchie, sitting on the roof closest to the perspective, curled up and reaching toward the stars.

When Crutchie had gotten up, they had made mundane small talk, both trying to hide nervousness that showed too plainly. They eventually stopped talking around it, laughing and joking about it directly, before deciding--no, vowing--to not let the other come to serious harm or danger. Then they had gone downstairs, ready to wake the other boys and get on with the revolution.

The last promise--maybe the last one ever--that Jack had made to Crutchie, and he’d broken it not even hours later. On the rooftop now, Jack kicked the low wall angrily, then again and again. What was wrong with him? How could he focus so intently on these--these mundanities, paperwork and politeness and whatall, while Crutchie was suffering so? How had he not been here for him, when he arguably needed Jack more than anyone else at the moment?

He kicked the wall one more time, then threw himself to the floor. What kind of leader was he? He’d betrayed everyone, almost left Crutchie; then when he’d gotten his head on the right way, he hadn’t done anything to make sure the kid was all right!

“Jack?”

Katherine. She would come up here, tell him it was okay, that it wasn’t his fault. He didn’t want that. It was his fault, and he couldn’t have anyone denying it or he might just explode.

“Leave me alone,” he called back, barely keeping his voice from breaking. Silence, then a sigh and the sound of soft footsteps going down the fire escape. Good.

Jack drew his hands across his face, taking in a shuddering breath. He had to pull himself together. He couldn’t dream about leaving anymore, that would just make things worse. He had to be here for Crutchie, and the other boys. Prove that he wasn’t a scab.

He hadn’t eaten any supper, but he didn’t really care. It was dark enough that he shouldn’t have a problem resting. Add it to the tired ache in his bones and he’d be out in no time. He’d get up when everyone else went to bed, then he’d stay up the rest of the night with Crutchie, be there in case he had nightmares or woke up. He had to be there for him. He had to.

[rallamajoop]

The Witcher: The Games vs the Books part 2 – Characters and Accents

So, I've already talked at length about the relationship between the Witcher books and games, but how well they captured individual characters is its whole own subject – and you’d better believe I have enough thoughts on it for a whole extra post.

Andrej Sapkowski's skill for creating vivid and engaging characters really is so much of what brings the books to life, and no matter how much work an adaptation might put into worldbuilding and plot, it's the characters you've really got to nail to get the long-time fans on board. Especially when you’ve done what the games have, framing themselves as a direct continuation of Sapkowski's story. Nothing invites comparison to your source material like basically forcing fans to read the original novels to understand even half the backstory alluded to in-game. 

So how did they do? I can only offer my opinion – characterisation is necessarily going to be a lot more subjective than just telling you what plot points the games contradicted outright – but like any fan, I have opinions in plenty.

Of the main cast, I feel Yennefer is the character they've captured the best. They've done just as well with some supporting players – I have no real complaints about Dijkstra or Phillipa, for example, who are favourites of mine in both games and books. For the main players though, Geralt and Regis seem to be the ones who's differences I'm most inclined to forgive, whereas I don't feel like they've done Ciri justice at all. Book!Geralt is much less of a smartarse, for one thing, whereas Book!Ciri is much more of one. But if we're talking about the differences, I’m afraid we really need to start with Dandelion.

Dandelion

For all the genuinely good work the games do with characters, old and new, I don't think I can overstate what a disservice the they've done Dandelion, who I could not stand in TW3, but is now one of my favourite book!verse characters. Alas, Dandelion is a prime example of something the Witcher games really don't do well: camp. Being the archtypical bard, Dandelion is about as flamboyant as any enthusiastically-heterosexual man can be: you should be able to spot this guy by body language alone, he should be flouncing around and he should talk like a spoiled noble auditioning for Shakespeare. Book!Dandelion is over-the-top and ridiculous and just so much fun, and I loved him well before I'd even really gotten into the rest of the books around him.

Here's just a bit of dialogue from one of his first appearances, to give you a sense of how he and Geralt play off each other.

The  bard  seized  the  fingerboard  of  his  lute  and  plucked  the strings vigorously. ‘How would you prefer it, in verse or in normal speech?’ ‘Normal speech.’ ‘As you please,’ Dandelion said, not putting his lute down. ‘Listen then, noble  gentlemen,  to  what occurred  a  week  ago  near  the  free  town  of Barefield. ‘Twas thus, that at the crack of dawn, when the rising sun had barely tinged pink the shrouds of mist hanging pendent above the meadows—’ ‘It was supposed to be normal speech,’ Geralt reminded him. ‘Isn’t it? Very well, very well. I understand. Concise, without metaphors. A dragon alighted on the pastures outside Barefield.’

Though TW3's Dandelion certainly looks the part, you have to go hunting through art from the Gwent cards to find much that comes close to really capturing his personality (see left pic below – though even there, a Dandelion who'd voluntarily break his treasured lute is a very hard sell). Though a lot of fanart does better (right-below – credit goes to Tatiana Ortaliz).

But as poorly as the games capture his flamboyance, they're not that much better when it comes to taking him seriously. TW3 left me thinking he was all talk and no substance; the books make abundantly clear that he really is renowned enough to be welcome in courts across the continent. Though he often overestimates what he can talk himself out of, he isn’t stupid either: he's lectured at Oxenfurt, spied for Dijkstra, and then there are the moments where the frivolous playboy mask slips and you realise he's sometimes much better at understanding people and relationships than Geralt will ever be (which is honestly kind of funny considering how many of Dandelion’s relationships end with plates being thrown at him from an upper story). He's not at all above mocking Geralt when he deserves it either (and especially his personal and relationship issues) – Geralt will happily mock him right back.

We never do learn how they became friends (I'm pretty sure the incident listed in the wiki is just the date of their first expedition together, not their first meeting), but Geralt just doesn't form lasting friendships or romances with anyone he can't have an intelligent conversation with. And Dandelion is a damn good friend to Geralt – one who, despite being a helpless, squishy little bard, will keep Geralt's secrets under torture, or will follow him into Nilfgaard in the middle of a war simply because you don't let a friend make a trip like that alone. (Seriously, I don’t ship it nearly as much as some, but hot damn there is some material in here if you do.) In short, it's basically inconceivable that he'd leave an amnesic Geralt wandering around Vizima alone, as he does in the first Witcher game – which is the kind of thing I can mostly forgive as a gameplay conceit, only it doesn’t really get better from there.

He’s also supposed to be blond, something I don’t think is technically specified until fairly late in the novels, but 100% what I’d been picturing since his first description as a man in a colourful bonnet with cornflower-blue eyes (let’s face it: Dandelion’s hair isn’t the only thing about him that screams ‘blond’). It’s a shame no-one from the games to the show to the novels’ cover artists seem to have noticed – but at least there are some fanartists out there who were paying attention (credit for these goes to Asphaloth, Ghostcupdraws, Hvit-ravn (tumblr deleted), 94355 and itsmespicaa).

As for the games? Well, I cannot speak to how Dandelion came across in the original Polish, but I think it speaks worlds about the priorities of the English version that they didn’t even bother to cast someone with a halfway-decent singing voice as their master bard. There are isolated moments of dialogue that come close to sounding like book!Dandelion– mostly in Witcher 2, which comes closer to capturing the spirit of the books than either 1 or 3, or his attempts to convince his captor he's a disguised noble when you rescue him TW3 – but his voice actor is just painfully ill-suited to the role.

Geralt

Geralt fares much better than Dandelion, though he’s still a little hard to square with the Geralt of the books. Book!Geralt spends a lot more time sulking, just to begin with: he sulks because his job is complicated and gets him no respect, and because the world is unjust and unfair – and, most of all, he sulks because Yennefer has dumped him again. He also gets mocked for sulking, and usually deserves it. Book!Geralt is generally a lot more taciturn and a less prone to making smart comments just to have something to say – arguably because in book!Geralt's world, making smart comments often ends at the gallows, or at least with some corrupt official making your life much harder. Book!Geralt's world kind of sucks, and he's just got to put up with it.

As much as he often plays into the expectations of being an uneducated monster hunter, he's also got a more of an intellectual streak than you’d guess. He may prefer to stay out of politics (because damnit, his job is to save people from monsters, not people who are monsters), but he attended school at Nenneke's temple and has even taken classes at Oxenfurt academy, and there's a lot of thoughtful nuance to his opinions – his speech to Ciri about why he can't in good conscience take a stronger stance against the Scoiata'el contains a wealth of historical perspective, just for one example. Even his smart comments tend to be, well, somewhat smarter in the books.

Book!Geralt’s explicitly a lot younger than Yennefer – around 50 is the usual estimate, falling far short of the 100-ish the games suggest (the scandal of having a man fall for – gasp! – an older woman clearly didn’t bother Sapkowski one bit). You don’t see nearly as much "I'm getting too old for this" from book!Geralt, who's really not that old by witcher standards, and is apparently still hunting monsters long into his future. I'm also a little annoyed by the way they play off his hatred of portals like he's a grumpy old man who doesn't like mobile phones, when his distrust originally came from having seen the gruesome deaths that result when portals go wrong. This is not to say Book!Geralt lacks other ordinary human flaws, however – twice in the last two books of the main saga, he gets severely sidetracked after his ego gets the better of him (in the adulation he receives after being knighted, then after arriving in Toussaint), and it's quite some time before he properly gets back on track for that whole rescuing-Ciri thing again. He’s also pretty hopeless when it comes to romance and relationships – breaking things off gracefully is really not in his skillset.

So why does game!Geralt not bother me more? Well, he's the main player character of a game franchise, and one who has to carry the experience largely solo. Some adjustments for genre are pretty much inevitable in that position. He's certainly fared better than Meve, for example, who's been softened far more from her book characterisation for her PC role in Thronebreaker. Then there's the whole amnesia thing – it's easy to believe that sort of experience would change a man – and if he doesn't sulk so much as he used to, maybe he's grown up a bit. Geralt's also in many ways the straight-man of Sapkowski's Witcher universe – there largely as the reliable centre for other, louder personalities to play off. But I expect the real bottom line here is that I do still like game!Geralt enough to forgive him a lot of what he lacks.

The books never do describe Geralt as being very attractive – something book-based fanart often tries to reflect. The point has been made before that the rather-alien-looking Geralt of the first game (left pic above) is probably a lot closer to his book-description. However, the main distinguishing factor you’ll see in book-based fanart is probably the ubiquitous headband, which genuinely is what book!Geralt wears to make his hair behave (the example on the right above comes from Diana Novich).

All that said, if Sapkowski really wants me to believe that nearly so many women are eager to jump into bed with him, I’m going to have to shallowly assume our witnesses are unreliable on this front, and Geralt is at least as attractive as Witcher 3′s take on him. Nothing else makes sense. *g*

Regis

Regis varies mostly in that book!Regis is a lot more smug, sometimes verging on obnoxious – and a lot keener to make fun of Geralt (who generally deserves it). But then, Regis is old and wise and superpowered enough to dance rings around most everyone else – can you blame him? By Blood and Wine, Regis' overconfidence has been recently smacked down hard after his near-death-experience at the hands of Vilgefortz, and that kind of thing could knock some chips off anyone's shoulder. Throw in the fact that with Dettlaff, we have a situation not even Regis could make light of, and the changes to game!Regis make a certain amount of sense.

I do feel it's a bit of a shame that the vocal direction didn't work just a little bit harder to capture some of Regis' smugger side, or emphasise that his long-winded philosophising on human behaviour is supposed to sound a bit pretentious. This is actually something I suspect they were going for a few times in the script, but which didn't come through in the dialogue quite the way it was meant to. Still, again, I'm sure I'm biased by the fact that I like game!Regis far too much to find much fault in what they've done with him. They've done a lovely job capturing his friendship with Geralt too.

Looks-wise, there's a tendency in book-based art to portray Regis with long hair (even some pre-Blood-and-Wine Gwent art did so – see the two pics on the left above, from Gwent and early B&W concepts. The right-most pic is cover art from the books). I couldn't rightly tell you where long-haired-Regis comes from, though – perhaps it's described more explicitly in the original Polish, or perhaps it comes up in passing in some passage I've forgotten, though it may just as well just be a fannish meme.

The books do describe him as looking rather like a tax collector, slim, middle-aged, with an aquiline nose, prone to wearing black, and his hair as 'greying' or 'grey streaked', so presumably somewhat younger-looking than the game would have it. The hammer-horror-esque sideburns are likewise a game-verse addition, though I do like the look they went with – it's distinct from Geralt in a way that making him another long-grey-haired man wouldn't have been, and that's probably the point.

Being the hopeless Regis fan I am, I have quite the folder full of different fanart takes on book!Regis, so have a selection – art here is by gellihana-art, justanor, greysmartwolf, Nastyaskaya, NatalyLanier, beidak, natalliel, ellaine and afternoon63. For what it’s worth, I feel beidak’s (bottom pic, second from the left) comes the closest to what I’d have pictured personally, based on how he’s first described.

Ciri

I find it much harder to rationalise the changes to game!Ciri, who I didn't exactly dislike, but found stuck too close to the role of generic-macguffin-girl-who-just-wants-to-be-normal to be very interesting. Having read the books, not only do I much prefer book!Ciri, I'm not sure I can emphasize enough how much the game did NOT prepare me for utter gauntlet of whump and misery that girl survives in the last four titles. Book!Ciri is a character who works for me mostly because of the same flaws the game mostly strips her free of – TW3 makes some token noise about how you can't tell her what to do, but she’s an utter little royal brat when we first meet book!Ciri, and it’s so much of what brings her to life. She throws herself into her witcher training with the enthusiasm of a kid going completely native, but still revels in getting to be girly for a change when Triss first arrives at Kaer Morhen. She hates Yennefer at first, but soon bonds with her just as strongly as she ever did with Geralt, picking up some of Yennfer’s haughty mannerisms along the way. And then she gets thrown through a portal and lost in the distant wilderness, and the whole world comes down on her head.

The build up to the first time Ciri actually has to kill someone is intense... and things only get worse from there. Steadily. For another couple of novels at a stretch. Seriously, a major caveat that pretty much has to go into any rec for these books (and I will absolutely rec these books) is that Ciri's story gets heavy. So heavy one finds oneself using phrases like, "that time that one guy died of his wounds on top of her while semi-consensually feeling her up was honestly one of the less traumatic incidents in the period."

By the end of the novels, Ciri has nearly died of thirst, been beaten, tied up, dragged around the country as a prisoner, run with bandits and killed innocent people for the fun of it, done fantasy-cocaine and got a tattoo, fought off more than one attempted rape, been drugged, lain for multiple nights next to an impotent elf who completely fails to impregnate her, watched the bodies of her friends and girlfriend being mutilated in front of her, and did I mention where she got that scar? She has survived hell, and it is absolutely a testament to her own strength that she somehow comes through it and puts herself back together at the end. When Geralt finally arrives to rescue her, what matters most isn't that her ordeal is over, but that she finally knows she hasn’t been abandoned by everyone who’d ever loved her after all.

The Ciri of the books is fierce and wild and arrogant, but she's learned her morals from the best, and she holds onto them until she can't, then picks them back up again when she can, and above all she survives. For all that her story turns arguably too much of the last two books into a slog of misery, oh boy does it pay off at the end. And that's probably about as much as I can say about her Big Moment in the last book without spoiling too much, so suffice to say that by the end of the saga, Geralt has pretty much become a supporting character in Ciri's story, not the other way around. (Seriously, you’d be surprised how few chapters of the last two books he’s actually in.)

Finding art which captures the aspects of Ciri’s character and history which are missing from the game has turned out to be pretty hard, though the fanart above from her bandit phase takes a decent crack at it (credit to Loles Romero and NastyaSkaya). I do rather like that one shot of her on horseback beside her girlfriend too, which comes from Denis Gordeev’s illustrations for the novels (below).

How much of this does TW3 get across with her portrayal in the game? Well, she's still pretty headstrong, I guess. And they let you give a 'sorry, I like girls' answer in one bit of dialogue, so they remembered her girlfriend existed. That's nice. But game!Ciri still has a kind of wide-eyed innocence that book!Ciri lost years ago, while book!Ciri is a little force of nature in ways the games hardly even hint at, and that's a really shameful loss.

You'd think, with a character so young, it ought to be easier to imagine she's simply grown up since we saw her last, but so much of what's changed about Ciri feels like a step back rather than forwards. I can shrug off Geralt and Regis' differences and still enjoy their game-verse-selves, but Ciri leaves me genuinely disappointed.

I’d say the official art that comes closest to capturing book!Ciri is that one portrait of her as a very grumpy young child (right above). Some of the early concept art (left above) feels a little more like it has her attitude, though she’s rather too yellow-blonde – not to mention too pretty. I think it also bears pointing out that Ciri isn’t really supposed to be the kind of beauty she is in the game – even before she gets what’s meant to be a seriously ugly and disfiguring scar. (Fanart below by justanor and bobolip)

But of course, the male gamer fanbase can’t be expected to give a fuck about a girl they wouldn’t want to fuck, so game!Ciri must be generically gorgeous. Le sigh.

Triss

I suppose I should at least touch on Triss, too, though she's a very odd case. She's so out of character in the first Witcher game that I am wryly amused that the biggest thing they arguably do get right is that taking advantage of Geralt the moment he showed up with amnesia is... pretty well in-character for her (look, I gotta be honest here, I'm not much of a fan of Triss in any of her incarnations).

The second game does a much better job with her – she actually feels like book!Triss, she has some good dialogue, we're finally dealing with some of her conflicted loyalties to the Lodge and to Geralt – though by the third, her characterisation has been so softened into “the nice one” that none of that potentially meaty conflict is ever resolved, or even really mentioned. Perhaps there's more buried in the Triss-romance path, which I've never bothered with, but the writers seem to have just given up on dealing with anything that might make her look less than wholly sympathetic. Heck, we hardly even get a clear statement about why she and Geralt broke up between Witchers 2 and 3.

Even speaking as such a not-a-fan of Triss, I promise there is more they could've done with the character the books give us. There's her ongoing trauma in from the Battle of Sodden, where she was injured so badly she was memorialised as one the dead: the 14th of the hill. There's her furious impatience with the neutrality of both the witchers and the Lodge: Triss has fought and died for a cause, and is ready to do so again. The second game sort of gets into this, but by and large, the games really aren't up to tackling the moral complexity of having such a theoretically-sympathetic character as Triss, who was still broadly willing to go along with the Lodge's plans to pair Ciri off and get her pregnant as soon as possible – her own wishes be damned. No, instead, Triss has conveniently left the Lodge before the rest of them go spiraling into abject villainy in the second game, clearing all that messy grey stuff out of the conflict.

Of course, the really big unresolved plot point still hanging over book!Triss is how badly she needs to terms with the fact Geralt's just Not That Into Her, and never has been – but since the games want Triss to be a serious romantic option, that's definitely not getting the resolution it could've used.

Book!Triss also pointedly avoids any outfit with a plunging neckline because her chest is covered with the ugly scars she received in the Battle of Sodden, something the games did not have the guts to reproduce. In a more confusing note, the books do consistently describe her hair as 'chestnut', which we'd usually think of as meaning 'brown' – though it turns out the games actually may not have been wrong to make her a redhead, since in Poland 'chestnut hair' apparently mean dark red hair (google some pictures of actual chestnuts, and you'll see why). Still, the firy-red-haired Triss of TW3 who wears nothing but plunging necklines remains a bit of a stretch, however you slice it. Once again, TW2 gets her best (and I must say, gave her the nicest outfit) – though even here she's conspicuously unscarred in all her sex scenes.

(Leftmost pic above is official Witcher 2 art, whereas Triss-with-scars fanart comes to us – once again – from nastyaskaya)

Shani

Shani sort of falls into a similar category as Triss as someone who isn't terribly well-served by any of her appearances, given that both exist in the first game largely to compete for Geralt's attentions. But I can't honestly say I find Shani’s portrayal in the Hearts of Stone expansion to be much better – the degree to which either version exists solely to fall all over Geralt is a bit painful, especially given that their relationship in the books is limited to a single, undramatic hook-up. Book!Shani really only appears in a couple of chapters: we meet her as a medical student friend of Dandelion's, who's been surreptitiously selling pilfered university supplies to fund her degree, then later see her again in the final book, where she proves herself as a battlefield medic during the climactic Battle of Brenna. She's pragmatic to a fault, and I really can't see her as the type who needs Geralt to point out to her that her patient is dead, for example, or who'd subject a guy with Geralt's problems to such an extended feelings-dump as you'll get out of her during the wedding.

Shani is a reasonably logical book-character to bring back, if only because she’s one of those who explicitly survives the ending, but for my money, "serious contender for Geralt's affections" is just not a role she works in.

Anna Henrietta

The duchess of Toussaint, Anna Henrietta, is another case who differs more from her book counterpart than you might think. In the books, the duchess is by far the least competent of the (pleasantly many and) various female leaders and rulers we meet – she comes across as rather young and naive, and every bit as absurd as everyone else in the ridiculous fairy-tale duchy she rules. She is, for example, most displeased to learn that Nilfgaard's war against the north is ongoing (something her courtiers have carefully avoided mentioning in her presence), because she'd long since sent the Emperor a stern note demanding he brought it to an end. She promptly has one of her ministers sent to the tower for misinforming her, and demands the others prepare an even sterner note for the emperor, which will surely do the job.

After Dandelion (inevitably) cheats on her, she has him repeatedly sent to the gallows, only to change her mind and send him a reprieve at the very last minute each time. Picture yourself a much younger and prettier version of the Queen of Hearts from Alice in Wonderland, and you've about got her general vibe.

Blood and Wine sort of waves at this part of her character when she first speaks about Dandelion, and again in suggesting there's a widespread feeling she lacks compassion, and once more as she proves utterly immovable on the subject of her sister. But the generally sensible and insightful woman you deal with for most of the main story is a far cry from her book-verse characterisation. That’s a bit of a shame, because I feel like there's a lot more they could have done to blend the two versions of her. Still, it’s hard to argue the duchess we get suits the story being told around her.

Other characters

Much as I love Yennefer, Dijkstra and Phillipa, I don't really have much more to say about them because I feel the games have done such a good job. The Yennefer of the books gets to show a lot more depth and complexity simply because she has more scenes and more space in which to do so, but when ‘there isn’t more of her’ is your biggest complaint, the game is officially doing pretty well. I could certainly gripe her about how “dresses in black and white” seems to have been taken as “dresses in black with maybe a trace of white trim”, or how Yennefer and Triss seem to be the only sorceresses in the world capable of wearing pants, when Phillipa (just for one) is in sensible men’s clothing the very first time we meet her, but that’s getting into serious nitpicking territory.

(Not that Yen can’t look amazing in outfits with more white – art by Emily Caroll, theclashofqueens, BarbaraRosiak, and cosplay by greatqueenlina)

Vesimir, Lambert and Eskel, Geralt's fellow witchers from the School of the Wolf, fall into a similar category for me – though we spend far less time with them in the books, everything we see of them in the games feels like a fairly logical extension of their book-roles. Vesimir is somewhat over-played as the old fogey, and his death is painfully cliched, but the impact on the characters and Kaer Morhen still hits home – and the games do some especially great work expanding Lambert into a much more complex character. To my mind, the only shame is that more of the book-original characters didn't get the same treatment.

Who have I missed? There's Avallac'h, of course, but I think I've got him pretty well covered by that last post. Zoltan, perhaps inevitably, has had his personality largely flattened into 'generic dwarf', with nothing better to do than hang around Geralt and Dandelion. You wouldn't know Book!Zoltan was apparently incapable of turning away women and children in need, for example – even human women and children with the chronic inability to say thankyou for his help. Or that he eventually admits to Geralt that the luggage he and his friends are carrying comes from a decidedly unsavoury source for such a supposedly charitable, upstanding guy. Yes, even Zoltan gets to be a morally complicated character in the books – who knew?

Speaking of dwarves, pleased as I am that Yarpen Zigren gets remembered in TW2, he's an odd one to talk about, since even in the books, he appears to have had a substantial personality transplant between his two main appearances. Yarpen’s a largely comedic figure in The Bounds of Reason short story, where he cheerfully admits to having considered letting his men knock down a particularly pompous aristocrat and piss all over him to teach him a lesson, but he’s evolved into a studious voice of reason against the scoiata'el by Blood of Elves. TW2 doesn't do a particularly good job of capturing either version, which I suspect probably bothered me more than most people – I liked the later book-incarnation of Yarpen immensely (and not even just because he's one of few ever to really call Triss out on just how much she needs to stop misreading Geralt's friendship as anything more than it is). His chapter in Blood of Elves packs a hell of a punch.

On the subject of accents

I do have to wonder if I'd have warmed up to characters like Triss, Shani and Dandelion (or even Letho) more if they'd only had halfway decent voice actors. It's not just that none are exactly leading the talent at the acting part of the job, it's that their American accents stick out in TW3 like a sore thumb.

Geralt mostly gets away his own US accent by dint of being the very first character we meet, so we've gotten used to the way he talks long before we notice how he stands out – hell, maybe that's just how they talk down in Rivia (hilariously, book!Geralt eventually reveals he's not even from Rivia, but simply picked the place and taught himself the accent so he could feel a bit less like the abandoned foundling he is, which only gives us yet more excuse for why his accent might sound a bit weird). More importantly, Geralt is meant to stand out, to be the outsider wherever he goes, so having him sound like no-one else fits the character.

But neither Triss or Dandelion are "of Rivia", and by the time they show up we've had dozens of hours in a game where literally everyone else sounds British, or Scottish, or Irish, or vaguely-eastern-European in the case of the Nilfgaardians. So why do these weirdos sound like no-one else on the continent?

The short answer seems to be that every character with an American accent in TW3 is someone who had an American accent in at least one of the previous games, which were way looser with their casting and had enough incidental American accents around that they didn't stand out. Clearly, by TW3, consistency with prior games has been prioritised over consistency with literally anything else we’re hearing.

Gaetan is an exception to the rule as the only new character (at least that I caught) with an American accent – presumably because between Geralt, Eskel, Lambert, Berengar, and Letho (and cohorts), some sort of 'witchers have American accents' rule has been pretty well established (another random American-accented witcher shows up in Thronebreaker, just to underline the point). We're going to mostly ignore Jad Karadin here, since his British accent is presumably a recent affectation to go with his new identity, and so makes sense.

This still doesn't really work though, since Letho’s school is all the way down in Nilfgaard (land of the Eastern European accents), while the oldest witcher from Kaer Morhen (Vesimir) is the one guy with a British accent. He sounds nothing like any of his students, despite the fact he's logically the guy they ought to have learned their accents from. So the logic falls in a heap however you slice it, and I'm thrown right out of the game.

With TW3 as your intro to the series, it feels almost as if characters like Triss and Dandelion have been assigned American accents because they're just too important to be saddled with the same pedestrian British accents as everyone else, which did nothing to endear them to me. The only one I eventually warmed up to was Lambert, and then only because he's just such a bitter asshole that he eventually goes full circle and comes out the other side (somewhere around when you've heard his miserable backstory, then gotten drunk together and told him how much you love him, man). Gaetan similarly snuck in under the same clause – American accents clearly work better for me in this series when attached to characters you're supposed to find pretty insufferable on first impressions.

Some final notes

To conclude, it seems only fair to throw in a quick nod to some of the more memorable book-characters who don't appear in the games. Neither Mother Nenneke (Geralt's sort-of-surrogate mother) or Vissena (Geralt's biological mother) ever appear either, alas – Vissena doesn't even merit so much as a Gwent card, which seems quite the wasted opportunity.

Milva, Cahir and Angouleme – the three remaining companions of Geralt’s who died alongside Regis but who were not so easily resurrected – naturally don’t appear. But nor are even really mentioned in all the games, which seems rather less than they deserve after giving their lives to Geralt's cause.

Cahir and Angouleme do at least have pretty badass Gwent cards to their names, though I am properly offended that Milva (who has the dubious honour of being my very favourite book character who doesn't ever appear in the games) is stuck with a card of her freaking death scene – which not only gets the scene wrong (believe me, there was no grimacing and gripping the arrow buried shallowly in her chest for poor Milva), but doesn't even bother to get her hair the right colour, for fuck’s sake. Basically, Milva was a stone cold badass and absolutely deserves better. #justice4milva

One can only guess how I'd have felt about some of these characters had I read the books before playing the games – I am obviously biased towards forgiving changes to characters whom I liked in their game incarnations, regardless of how they compare. Still, I think it does speak wonders that there still all these characters who suddenly made sense only after I'd met them in the books.

Even if only for Dandelion and Ciri, I can only dream of seeing a bit more of the book-original characterisations make it into the collective fannish consciousness. There's nothing wrong with getting into the canon purely based on the show or the games, but having read Sapkowski's novels, it's no longer any mystery how they spawned this massive franchise. That the saga wasn’t even fully available in English until well after Witcher 3 was released – a solid couple of decades late, and long after it had already been translated into Russian, French, German, Spanish and more – is a real shame. For once, it’s us in the anglophone world who’ve been missing out: these books deserve so much more than to be thought of as a footnote to the games or the show.

[plumrabbit]

DA Fandom and moving forward - Calling In vs. Calling Out

Hi everyone,

As a PoC member of the DA fandom, I felt I have been quiet for long enough on the issues that have been presented recently. I am not here to argue against or on behalf of any individual or group, I am only here to present some information that I hope will be helpful moving forward. This is a long post, but it’s my hope that if you read it and want to help contribute to making this place better for everyone, then you will be willing to try to put what is said here into practice.

Since I am a relatively small blog, I wanted to start with a little personal introduction that will segue into the topic at hand. My name is Liz (you can call me Jade too, that’s part of my middle name), and I am a mixed race, “ambiguously brown”, aspec person from Canada. I grew up around mostly other immigrant families, attended predominantly non-white schools that were run by mostly white admins, and completed my degrees at a very white university in a field that does not have much racial diversity. I have experienced racism first-hand many times including, but not limited to, name-calling/slurs, fetishization/exotification, being followed by staff, people second-guessing my name, jokes about hurting/killing people of my race, etc. as well as witnessing racism directed at my friends and peers. I know exactly what it’s like to be exhausted and feel unsafe or othered.  There is, however, one thing I need to point out about the multitude of instances of racism I’ve experienced - most of them were caused by ignorance, and not malice. Yes there are absolute assholes out there, but personally I can count those people I’ve encountered on one hand (I am not speaking for everyone, though). The vast majority of racism, bigotry and general harmful acts come from a place of ignorance, particularly on left-leaning tumblr (to clarify, this discussion is centered around well-meaning people and not the actual lost causes). When I say ignorance, I don’t mean a lack of education or intelligence, I mean not being able to see or understand an issue from another person’s perspective. It’s not quite the same as empathy either (where empathy means you are able to feel another person’s emotions), but fighting ignorance does require empathy. It also requires knowledge on the context of the specific situation, and that I believe is the crux of the problem.  I think the main reason why this is issue is particularly prevalent in the DA fandom is a result of the too-close-to-reality-to-ignore inspirations that have been confirmed by the devs. Yes, it’s fiction, but there are also a lot of people that see themselves (mis)represented in the themes and characters. And what one person sees as disrespectful, another person may not see at all. This can come full circle, too, for example: one person sees themselves and their trauma represented in a character, another person sees their race misrepresented in the same character. Person 1 uses the character as a comfort character or coping strategy. Person 2 thinks using that character in certain situations is disrespectful. Neither one sees the other’s perspective.  This is where intersectionality starts to come into play, and requires empathy and effort to address the intentions and emotions of the other person. Perhaps person 1 is LGBTQ+ and has been traumatized by being as such, and uses Dorian as a character to explore their trauma. Perhaps person 2 is Brown, and racism towards their people is their trigger, and thinks person 1 did not do Brown representation justice in their creative works.  Looking at this more specifically, person 1 may have put Dorian in sexual situations. Person 2 feels that the way it was conveyed was fetishist or exotified. Person 2 doesn’t know person 1′s intentions. Person 1 is not aware of certain descriptions that are racist (e.g. using food to describe a PoC’s skin tone). Perhaps person 1 was self-inserting and wanted to feel desirable on their own terms, but this gave person 2 that squick factor.  Now person 2 wants to address this issue, and I think this is where a call-in (not a call-out) would be appropriate. Here is a good infographic that compares the two: 

(Original source)

Note that there is quite a large difference in the language used. Going back to the above example, person 2 could privately message person 1 asking them why they chose to represent Dorian the way they did, with specific examples, and using call-in language (and I’m going to get back to this in a minute). 

The point of this post and infographic isn’t meant to tell marginalized groups how they should be bringing up issues (though it is a good guide if you are concerned about being polite, particularly to a first time offender), it’s intended to demonstrate to people unintentionally participating in harmful behaviour what a call-out vs. call-in looks like. For PoC and other marginalized groups, yes it does take emotional labour to use call-in language and to try to understand someone that wounded you (here is a good read that incorporates the concept of emotional labour for call-ins, and discusses asking yourself if you are ready to do so). For the people who have unintentionally hurt a marginalized individual or group, please understand that someone calling you in is not an attack, it’s a chance to explain why you expressed something the way you did. 

That being said, we may have reached another hurdle. What if you call someone in, and the person called in does not want to discuss the fact that they were inserting their personal trauma? I think this is where things start to get a bit messy, but I am of the opinion that if you’ve unintentionally triggered someone else’s trauma through ignorance present in your work, you owe it to them to at the very least mention that you were inserting your trauma, without having to bring up specifics (anyone is allowed to set boundaries). From there, the discussion can be hopefully be opened up to learning from each other, and reaching a consensus. Sometimes that consensus requires the creator to edit or remove their work. As an addendum, if you are a creator that unintentionally hurt someone with your work that didn’t have an ulterior personal motivation, it’s your responsibility to understand why what you did was wrong, apologize, remove the work and do better next time. I know some people cherish their OCs, but you are allowed to change your perspective and make adjustments to your character without erasing them entirely. Now we’ve reached another potential obstacle - what if an offender doesn’t respond to your call-in? First of all, ask yourself, did you actually call them in, or did you attack them? Here is a good opinion piece from a Black professor on this matter. I’d like to clarify that I am not trying to tone police, I am speaking as someone that used to go ham on ignorant people on Facebook and Reddit, and has since changed their tactics and has even gotten through to Trump supporters (some of this stems from my spiritual growth as well, but that is not the point here).  There is another issue to address here now as well - what if you have tried, repeatedly, to call someone in and they just don’t change their behaviour? Alright, then it’s probably time to call them out. But again, ask yourself, did you truly try to get through to them? If so, well, at the end of the day, some people are, unfortunately, lost causes. In summary, a call-in is meant to come from a place of wanting to help someone who has seemingly gone astray, because you are worried about their thoughts, feelings, and behaviours towards a marginalized group. You know that if they made a mistake it isn’t them, isn’t their heart, and you want them to be able to understand why what they did hurt others, and give them the chance to correct themselves. It comes from a place of love and acceptance, because you don’t want your friends to harbour negative beliefs.  Finally, I want to give a real example of this in action. My cousin is a photographic artist, and was recently called in to discuss the nature of one of her pieces. Her subjects are usually people, and they come from a wide variety of backgrounds. To help support BLM (she does a lot of work to help fight racism in general), she auctioned off one of her pieces. The subject of the piece happened to be a Black woman. She was called in by Black members of her art community to discuss how people bidding on an art piece that featured a person from a marginalized group perpetuated the ogling and monetization of Black people. She gave a response that acknowledged that her piece did perpetuate this issue, because she wanted to raise awareness of this historical harm, and recognized that her intention was ignorant of this perspective. The Black community also acknowledged that the piece itself was not harmful in any way, only that the surrounding issue that they were painfully aware of needed to be brought to light. The auction went ahead, and the piece sold for ~$1000, all of which was donated to BLM.  I think as a fandom we should be cognizant of when a work itself is harmful, or when the intention is harmful. Sometimes they overlap, sometimes they don’t. Both are talking points, and we should not be afraid to discuss them, but this requires respect from all parties. We also do need to be able to recognize what is strictly fiction, versus what has real-world impacts. My askbox is always open and my DMs are open to mutuals if you would like anything clarified or expanded upon. Or, if you’d just like to discuss a topic, vent, or have any questions about my own beliefs, you are welcome to reach out. I am happy to discuss anything, as long as there is mutual respect. 

[sd1970x]

Marinette, work in progress - Chapter 1

Read also on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26203645/chapters/63770623

----

“One is not born, but rather becomes, a woman.” Simone de Beauvoir

There is almost nothing about Marin Dupain-cheng's life, an aspiring clothes designer, that makes them happy. Certainly not the bullying they keep getting at school.

Marin doesn't even know her true gender identity yet.

Both of these are about to change. But would that be enough for her to fight the demons within? ----

CW - Homophobia

Pronouns note: in the beginning of the fic, as Marin(ette) is very much closeted, I am purposefully using he/him pronouns as these capture the correct perspective feel. Pronouns will change as soon as she realizes who/what she really is.

---

So, this is my first work after almost two years of not producing any new ones. I am planning to explore mental challenges involving the crossing of the gender barrier, the very same ones I am now fighting after discovering my own gender identity, as I was writing it in a Miraculous Ladybug fic.

This work is planned to be about a dozen chapters and around 30-40k words when complete.

Thanks go to: V- for inspiring this fic and for being the amazing and caring person they are. Wonderful beta feedback and copyediting: Skye, MyKeyboardDidIt

(further thanks will be updated as goes! if you helped with beta/ideas just hit me up and i'll add you!)

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

"Dear, your alarm’s been going off for fifteen minutes! You’re going to be late for your first day of school!”

You say that as if it’s a bad thing. As if I don’t want to be several hours late. Or days.

“Yeah Mom, I’m coming.”

Marin dragged himself out of bed, his form hunched as he made his way to his closet, regarding his clothes with indifference.

I Don’t even like any of them. And I doubt they would solve the real problem here. That I do not like what I see in the mirror.

Myself.

His hand drifted to a random shirt of no particular interest and he casually tossed it over his head. He shuffled over to the bathroom, glancing at himself in the mirror.

Ho-hum. Same old me, isn’t it?

His hair was in its usual mess on top of his head. Foregoing using a brush, he ended up lightly combing through his hair with his fingers until it looked somewhat acceptable.

I guess that’s okay, he thought while shrugging.

As he was brushing his teeth, his eyes strayed to his face. Studying it. Scrutinizing it.

I ought to shave better than this, He thought. His hand reached for the razor, but he stopped short of picking it up.

What even is the point. Either way, trying won’t make any difference.

The image in the mirror appeared to give him a judgemental look, his own blue eyes prying into the inner parts of his soul.

Well, at least these eyes aren’t half as bad. Perhaps they would have been of some use if they had been matched with another person altogether.

He sighed and turned his head away, as if that would be enough to make the thought disappear.

It wasn’t.

The stairway creaked just a bit as he went downstairs to the kitchen where his parents were already toiling about.

“Your need to patch up your shave, my boy,” Tom said. “You want to look good for the ladies, don’t you?”

I’m not into girls, Dad.

Maybe one day I’ll gather the courage to tell you that.

“Well… not really…”

After all, what difference does it make?

“Come now, where’s the spirit? Every girl is different, they can’t all be like Chloe,” Sabine interjected, attempting to be helpful but having just the opposite effect.

“Ugh, Mom, why’d you have to mention her at all?”

Marin frowned as he sat down for breakfast, unable to drive Chloe’s image away from his mind. He took a bite off of his omelette and was struck by the apparent blandness. He set the fork down, sighing quietly to himself.

And there goes my appetite. It’s not the omelette that’s the issue though....

A sip of fresh juice did the trick, the taste too strong to be overridden.

“Cheer up, buddy!” Tom came over. “Take these macarons to school, maybe a tasty start would help lighten up your day!”

“Thanks, Dad, these are awesome.” He said as he picked them up, giving him a half-hearted smile in return.

I appreciate the gesture..., but it feels more like bribing my classmates with these. Guess anything is worth a try at this point.

---

Marin walked into school where everyone was bustling about and chatting with old friends.

Bright banners greeted the students and everything still felt pristine and clean. The corridors even had flower bouquets placed as decorations. Marin took a breath of air, relishing in the floral scent, and proceeded to enter class.

The classroom was freshly painted and even the furniture had been patched with an attention to detail. Marin barely allowed himself a moment of excitement, before despair and weariness took hold again.

It may look different, but looks won’t change anything for people like me. It’ll still be an endless test of mettle against bullying and harassment.

He cautiously went for his seat and observed his classmates.

So there’s Nino, he’s kinda-sorta okay with me. Something I could never say about Kim. Max hasn’t been mean either, but he’s with Kim, so... At least I don’t see her , maybe we’re not in the same—

“What do you think you’re doing?” a loud cry halted his thoughts and confirmed his fears.

Chloe. The nastiest of them all. Here’s to an old-new welcome, a start-over that amounts to absolutely nothing.

“Ugh. Here we go again,” he muttered quietly, hoping Chloe wouldn’t pick it up.

She came over, an accusing look plastered on her face.

“That's my seat.”

“But Chloe, this has always…” he attempted to retort, then quickly backtracked.

“Fine, just… take it. I don’t care.”

“Take it? It’s always been ours.” Sabrina added, bearing the same mocking countenance.

Sabrina helped herself to one of Marin’s macarons uninvited, then made a puking motion.

“Ugh, they are so gross!” she said, even though she was quick to pocket one for her friend as well.

Chloe paid no heed to the macarons as she was already busy teaching Marin the new rules.

“Listen. Adrien's arriving today and the last thing he needs is someone who needs straightening like you giving this class a bad name. Stay away from him, get it?”

Marin tried his best to ignore the obvious insult and focus on the more pressing question.

“Who’s Adrien?”

Both Chloe and Sabrina chuckled, making Marin regret asking.

“Adrien is a famous model. Pretty, rich, glamorous, someone to look up to. Like me. And just like me, he’s everything you’ll never be and everything you’ll never have.” Chloe fawned over her imaginary description as Sabrina took up the task of reprimanding Marin for the question.

“A loser that doesn’t even know who Adrien is, needs to sit as far away from him as possible. You’re enough of an embarrassment to our class as is.”

Marin opened his mouth as if to deny every word, but opted against it.

You’re wrong. One day, I’ll be a famous and successful designer and every single one of you will be sorry for how you treated me. I just have to persist through this. I won’t bite it this time.

He picked up his bag wordlessly and slowly went towards his designated seat.

At least that’s what he planned to do, but the new girl pre-empted him as she grabbed him by the hand and helped him to the seat next to her. Apparently she had overheard the conversation and didn’t plan on letting it slide, at least as far as her expression read as she looked towards one Chloe Bourgeois.

“Hey! Who elected you queen of seats?” She cried out.

“I did. Good luck dethroning me with your pariah friend.” Chloe laughed at her.

It was then that Miss Bustier entered the class, finally putting a timely end to the whole ordeal.

“Has everyone found a seat?” she called.

“Hey. Don’t let her get to you.” The new girl turned towards Marin again.

He nodded.

“If only I could… She makes my life miserable. My only comfort is the thought that I’ll be free once I graduate.”

“I’m Alya, what’s your name?”

“I’m Marin” He replied. “Pleased to meet you.”

“For those of you who don't yet know me,” Miss Bustier called yet again, “I'm Miss Bustier and I'll be your teacher this year.”

At least with the lesson going on, I should be safe from unnecessary trouble.

Marin pulled out his history book, the same one from last year, bearing yet another reminder. "Marin the Gay-boy" scrawled over the cover, courtesy of Kim.

Safe, huh.

“Everything you’ll never be, Everything you’ll never have.”

Like a clean history book.

It was then when the memories came back to life, a flashback from last year.

---

“Who did this?”

Marin looked about, trying to discern any dead giveaways by his classmates. Too many of them seemed to be smiling too mysteriously to be able to get anything out of them.

You need to stand up for yourself! Show them weakness and they’ll hunt you down like prey!

… easier said than done.

He took another good look at his history book. A small red scrawl was now adorning it, not unlike a barb stuck in flesh and equally painful.

“ Marin the Gay-Boy ”.

“Please… tell me who did this.”

Weariness engulfed his voice as it went weak.

I’ll find out who did this! I’ll…

Drip.

Drop.

The book’s hardcover had just won yet another adornment, as Marin’s teardrops started collecting over it.

Marin picked up the book, tucked it by his side and blasted away from class, his legs carrying him as far as he could, a bout of laughter coming from his classmates in his wake.

By the time Nino found him, his tears had mostly dried out.

“I saw it, dude. It was Kim.”

Marin sighed.

“Thanks, Nino. I… there’s nothing I can do about it, now can I?”

Nino nodded.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

---

I may have missed first period and the picking of seats, but I haven’t missed out the first day entirely. I guess luck is somewhat on my side, today.

“Hey there, Adrikins. Here’s your seat, I saved it for you. Right in front of me!”

So, I have that going for me as well!

“Thanks, Chloe, that’s really nice of you!”

As Chloe and her friend Sabrina went to do something else, Adrien found it to be an opportunity to introduce himself to other students around. What caught his attention the most about the nearby student were his orange headphones, seemingly a fixture of his appearance.

“Hey, I’m Adrien, pleased to meet you!” he offered his hand and got answered with a sturdy shake.

“Yo, I’m Nino. So, you’re that guy Chloe mentioned earlier?”

It was at that moment that he caught something happening out of the corner of his eye.

“What’s that all about?” he called towards Chloe and Sabrina, as both were putting gum on one of the seats.

“The brat that sits here needs a reminder of his place in the hierarchy. I'm just commanding a bit of respect, that's all.”

“You think that's really necessary?”

“Ah, you've got a lot to learn about school culture, Adrikins. Watch the master.”

Hardly convinced, Adrien went about trying to remove the gum from that seat, as he heard another male voice.

“Oh. So that’s your method of choice. How original.”

The voice sighed as Chloe and Sabrina laughed.

“Uhhh… I…” Adrien tried to protest, as he turned towards who he presumed was the seat’s owner.

The first thing that struck him about this boy is that he had a good amount of untapped potential. Smooth black hair, bright blue eyes… given proper care, he could look so much nicer, but he was relatively unkempt and his clothes were poorly matched too.

“And to think I imagined this year would be any different. Stupid, stupid, stupid. ” The boy lamented.

“No, no, I was just trying to take this off!” Adrien tried to salvage the situation, but to no avail.

All the while, Chloe and Sabrina continued to laugh.

“I see you’re in cahoots with Chloe. You don’t need to play pretend with me.”

“See?” Chloe said, “Gay-boy here knows his place. As he should.”

Marin just covered the gum with spare tissue paper and sat by Alya.

“There you go. Adrien Agreste, daddy's boy, teen supermodel and Chloe's buddy.” Alya quipped.

“I bet he’s used to not seeing or caring how people beneath his status feel,” Marin muttered.

---

Alya had little interest in the class, but much more interest in her table partner. She quickly learned that Marin wanted to be a famous designer after he graduated. While she wasn’t a professional, the sketches Marin gave her seemed really good. But there was something else to watch for, too. How his face had lit up when he handed her his sketches. For a moment there, he seemed to be another person altogether. His face brightened up as he took at least a hint of pride in his handiwork.

And you should. Not to mention that a smile looks so much better on you than that sad face you had on earlier.

They had a free hour just after class, so Alya was only mildly surprised when Marin caught her hand and pulled her towards somewhere as he ran forward.

“Where are you taking me?” She asked.

“The best place this school has to offer.” he grinned and continued to dash forward.

“I present you… the art club room!” he exclaimed.

It’s as if he’s another person entirely.

Marin waded in, showing Alya all the different areas the art room had to offer.

A wall for street art, mostly cleaned from past works but still bearing color marks of older works. Desks used for writing, pen scratch marks still visible even after having been cleaned for the new year. Drawing stands, also marked by some uncleanable paint blots. Then there was...

“... Here it is. A state of the art sewing machine, My best and only friend in this entire school.” he laughed, but in a moment the smile dropped from his face.

“That… I…”

He sat by, not nearly as happy as before, and pulled a derby hat from the nearby drawer.

“I worked on this last year and haven’t managed to finish it yet.”

Alya picked up the hat and casually caressed the fabric. It felt somewhat sturdy yet comfy.

Marin flicked the machine on and seemed to be mulling his next move. Eventually, he just turned it back off without doing anything.

“We technically shouldn’t be here without a teacher, so let’s go.” His passionless voice took over again.

Alya could see this was nothing but an excuse, but she declined to call it out. Her instincts told her there was no chance on earth Marin wasn’t keen on violating this rule more than once.

“It really is a lovely place.” She tried to brighten up the atmosphere, with mild success.

“And I loved the hat.” She said as she handed it back for Marin to place in the drawer again.

That seemed to work a bit better.

“Wait ‘till it’s complete, then. I’m sure it will suit you well.” Half a smile crept to Marin’s face.

---

Marin bid Alya farewell as he left the classroom and slouched towards the school’s main doors.

He cautiously opened it, only to find rain pouring outside and the sky filled with grey clouds.

A fresh start, huh? The morning’s nice weather is already gone. At least the bleakness isn’t hiding anymore.

He stood by, still sheltered, when he found out another person was standing next to him.

That Adrien guy. And he just noticed me. That’s the last thing I need right now.

“Hey!” Adrien called.

He slowly sidestepped to maintain a safe distance between them and turned his head away, muttering a slight ‘hmph’.

“Hey, listen buddy… I really was trying to remove that gum from your seat.”

Marin turned his head around and looked at Adrien, wide-eyed.

I… I must be dreaming. Did he really just say that?

“S-so… you weren’t…” he tried to piece together his words and found himself unable to do so.

“Of course not. I came here to study, to make friends… I’m not here to harass or insult people, where’s the sense in that?”

He is sincere about it. Somebody that doesn’t see me as the “gay punching bag” everyone else does.

“I didn’t even get your name.”

“It’s… It’s Marin.”

Marin’s heart nearly skipped a beat, one that he was sure Adrien managed to hear even with the rain’s sound muffling it.

And then, there was an inaudible sound he missed.

A cracking sound, as the nearly-impenetrable shell, one that was built layer over layer of self-defence from bullying and mistreatment, sealing off his emotions, gave just a little bit of way.

Adrien let his hand out of the shelter, feeling the raindrops accumulating.

“So, Marin, It’s raining and I’ve got a ride, need an umbrella?”

He nodded ever so slightly and Adrien pulled out a black umbrella. A click and a whoosh and it was now open, handed for him to take.

Marin cautiously reached out for the umbrella Adrien handed him, his hand shaking and trembling.

That’s… so nice… so… so unlike…

No sooner than he had picked it up though, his hand slipped and triggered the activation switch, the umbrella closing shut over him.

Adrien laughed for a brief moment and gave Marin a slight friendly shoulder bump.

“You keep safe, alright buddy?”

“A… al… alr-...”

Marin barely even noticed his bag dropping, hitting the ground with a ‘thud’ and his personal effects rolling about on the wet pavement. His eyes were transfixed as Adrien waved goodbye and proceeded towards his pick up car.

He’s not going to insult me or beat me or humiliate me.

Someone I can trust. Someone I can rely on.

I feel… safe next to him.

.

.

Oh, Adrien!

Maybe things were going to be different after all.

---

Unnoticed by them both, there was another figure watching the exchange, clad in a hawaiian t-shirt and accompanied by a green looking creature.

“Are you sure of your choice, master?”

“Yes. He will make a fine Chat Noir…

… and she will make for an unforgettable Ladybug.”

next

[fire-emblem-drabbles]

Season’s Delight

Pairing: Yandere! (kinda) Niles x reader

Description: You couldn’t say you hated your relationship with Niles, you just... didn’t know how to feel about it. Where you really stood with him. This holiday season, he plans to show his true feelings for you.

Word Count: 2432

Rating: sfw

Notes: Another commission for the ever so lovely @modern-zervis-lovemail​! Again we’re serving up yan Niles but this time, far, far softly for the Christmas Season. Speaking of which, I hope this year is treating you kindly as we reach it’s end!

~*~

You couldn’t help but be in high spirits! It was the happiest of all seasons, and Heroes were simply bustling with holiday cheer! Not only that but recently, Niles had somewhat cooled down with his strange behavior; he still occasionally bothered you with his antics and games, though. You would say you were sick of him and the tricks he pulled… but the both of you knew that was wrong (even if you were loathe to admit it). Even the thought of him now made your heart pound for a very different reason. Since when had your thoughts for him been anything but bitter…? You shook your head to rid the thoughts, huffing loudly. Now he had gone and soured your mood and he was nowhere near you. Fantastic… Maybe helping the Heroes decorate and ready for the coming festivities would get your cheery disposition back where it belonged.

“Oh Summoner, where are you going in such a hurry?” His sing-song voice caught you in your tracks. Surely Niles knew whenever you were thinking of him for sooner rather than later he would appear to annoy and fluster you to his heart's content. Despite your prior thoughts you couldn’t help but smile a little at the idea he had come looking for you-- though you were glad to be facing away from him, lest he see your smile.

“Away from you, now shoo Niles! I’m busy.” You huffed, not even willing to turn to face him. You knew you would lose if you did. It was very obvious you weren’t busy at all.

“Aww come on! Did you forget? I just got my new look! I wanted you to be the first to see, even before my dear Lord Leo.” You blinked, remembering now. Niles was supposed to be the next resplendent Hero, you had just completely forgotten since the season's duties had gotten to you. What realm was he dressed from again…? You didn’t even really know why he of all Heroes was chosen but it’s not like you did it personally... You turned towards him, holding your breath and trying your best to look indifferent. When you finally saw him, little smirk and all, you couldn’t help but gasp softly.

“Muspell…” The colors fit him nicely, you noted. He actually looked really good; enough to bring a little color to your face. He caught your staring but for once held his tongue, simply smirking at the color that dusted your cheeks. “Don’t you know it's the Holidays, Niles? You’re going to look out of place prancing around like that.” Though you were impressed with how he came together, you couldn’t help but tease him. You wouldn’t let him win that easy.

“Well, I suppose I’ll just have to be the star at the top of the tree, burning brightly and catching everyone’s attention.” He decided. “Besides, I like it! Who knew I would look so good in red?” He mused, looking over himself as well.

“Is this all you came to show me then?” You asked. “I am still busy, after all.” You tried turning away from him but he caught your wrist.

“No need to leave so soon, Summoner! The evening is already upon us, after all, and I can think of nothing better but spending this cold, moonless evening with you.” You could tell he was raising up his charm; you wished you could say it didn’t affect you but even now, with his single blue eye cast upon you and his roguish smile drawing you in, you were having a hard time saying no. This was the first time he had bothered to ask for your company, rather than insert himself into whatever situation you found yourself in.

“It’s cold out, Niles.” You pouted a little and folded your arms to your chest, doing your best to close yourself off from him. “It wouldn’t be any good for either of us to catch a cold because you insist on going out.”

“We’ll stay in then.” Niles didn’t let up, moving closer to you and drawing your face to look at him, thumb and forefinger delicately holding your chin. “You know I’m not above begging for you _____, just give in.” He caught your gaze in his and you were left sputtering and breathless as he waited for you to once more find your words.

“O-okay, geez okay!” You quickly shook him off to save yourself from the embarrassment quickly welling up in your stomach. “You got me, I’m yours… for the evening only.” You warned, looking at him from the corner of your eye, color dusting your cheeks once you caught the victorious look on his face. “Just… don’t do anything... weird, okay?” You couldn’t help but sigh knowing that with him this night would be nothing but strange.

“You won’t regret it.” Niles was quick to take you by the hand, and even quicker to lead you down the winding halls of the Order of Heroes.

“H-hey wait! Where are we going?” You cried in your hurry to keep up with him. You forgot just how fast the former thief could be… You could hardly think while trying not to trip over yourself. “A-and why do we have to get there so fast?”

“Just somewhere we won’t be bothered. And besides, the sooner we get there the more time we’ll have together.” His simple logic had you blushing. Was he really so eager to spend time with you that he wanted to waste no time? Left blushing and wondering you simply let Niles drag you over to whatever corner of the castle he saw fit.

Once arrived, you couldn’t help but catch your breath, resting your hands on your knees and panting a little. “Geez… next time, let’s just walk okay..?” You wheezed out the words, not bothering to look up at Niles.

“Next time, huh? I’ll keep that in mind.” He chuckled softly, and you didn’t even bother to retort, standing to your full height and gasping at what you saw in the room. It seemed Heroes had gone full out decorating this cozy room for the coming festivities; stockings hung with cheer over a welcoming fire, sweets and treats laid out on a table, and a tree full of colorful ornaments. Under its branches, gifts wrapped with the utmost care sat waiting for the day of the festival where Heroes young and old alike would open them with joy in their hearts. And to finish it off, a big window sat, curtains open to show off the picture-perfect winter landscape and moonless sky.

“Niles…” You said softly. “How did you know this part of the castle had been decorated already?” Your eyes kept drifting from one decoration to another, trying to drink in the splendor of it all.

“I helped.” He said, happy to see how much you liked it. “I know how much you enjoy the season, _____ so I got some help and decorated this room… just for the two of us.” He enjoyed watching the way your face lit up, the light of the fire dancing off it in the most beautiful of ways. Already, he wanted the night to last forever-- and it had only just begun. He could spend hours looking at that smile of yours but there was so much more to be done tonight.

“You did this for me? For… us?” Your question hung in the air a moment as you caught his gaze, the surprise written on your features just as, if not more, adorable than the smile you had worn a moment before. “Niles… I don’t know what to say.” Something sparkled in your eye, brought color to your cheeks and a warm smile to your face. Surely the feeling of the season was catching up to you. It wasn’t like Niles had… any feelings for you, right?

“Well, a thank you would be nice.” Niles was only trying to tease but you surprised him by flying into his arms and wrapping your arms around his neck tightly. Though stunned a moment, Niles happily hugged you back, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Of course I’m thankful you idiot.” Your voice had gone quiet and soft in an effort to conceal your true feelings. “I love it, its perfect. I just… can’t express how much it means to me that you did this.” You pulled back, meeting his gaze and smiling softly. “I just… I’m unuse to this feeling, I guess.” You admitted.

“Oh, and what feeling would that be?” Niles couldn’t help but tease you in this more serious moment, causing you to huff and look away. You let go of him and he let you free. You moved to the window to stare out it, eyes carefully looking over the landscape as you thought about the answer to his previous question. What were you feeling for him? Something sat on the tip of your tongue, something you were unwilling to admit to yourself, let alone him right now. “Do you have an answer for me?” He came to stand by you, his words once again serious. “Because I’m sure you have an inkling why I went out of my way to do this for you; I know you’re not that dense, Summoner.” You frowned at your reflection in the window, seeing Niles’ face was neutral.

“Don’t make me say it.” Your breath fogged up the glass, clouding you from the view outside. You weren’t ready to admit it, not unless he felt the same…

“_____…” He said your name so softly, you couldn’t help but turn to face him. “Why don’t you take a look above us?” Doing as asked, you looked up, eyes meeting the mistletoe that hung innocently between you. “It is tradition, after all.” His smile was serene, his touch nothing but feather-light as he held your chin with his thumb and forefinger for the second time this evening. This time, more than ever you felt out of the moment; as if you were witnessing it happen from another person's perspective entirely, a fantasy falling into place before your very eyes. “_____?” Niles saying your name caught your attention once more, your thoughts falling to nothing as he looked at you. “You seem… far away. And here I had gone through all this trouble to make this romantic.” His laugh was soft but you could sense something bitter. You appreciated how he waited for your reaction though-- there was certainly a time you didn’t think it above him to steal a kiss but now he was the picture of patient.

“I just…” You took a deep breath. “I can’t do this if you don’t feel the same, Niles. Please tell me this is more than just a game to you.” Your words were quiet, your tone barely heard above the cracking of the fire.

“A game? Do you really think so little of me that I would play with your feelings like this?” He tsked gently, moving to fill the space between the two of you. “When have I ever looked at anyone the way I look at you?”

“N-no it’s not that… I just… It’s just hard for me to believe this, is all. Someone like you with someone like me?” You asked him softly. “I just… I thought you wouldn’t want me.” You admitted, casting your gaze back to the window. Your breath had cleared from the window, letting you see the night sky once more.

“Well, you’re wrong.” Niles' blunt way of speaking always seemed to get to you, drawing your attention to him once more. “Since you seem so desperate for me, I’ll come out and say it; I love you, _____, and there’s no one I’d rather spend my time with, festivals or not. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me because I have no plans of leaving you once this night is over.”

“Niles…” He was being himself but at this point, would you want him any other way? This is who you feel for, after all-- Niles in all his strange behaviors… You wouldn’t have it any other way. “You promise? You won’t leave my side?” It felt nice, knowing someone wanted to protect you… To be there with you… be with you.

“No need to ask me twice, darling.” You need not say more, nor he. The moment seemed to melt like the snow on the window until his lips finally, finally met yours. It felt like something you had waited so long for now yet at the same time, something you couldn’t anticipate. Surprisingly though, it was a gentle kiss; something innocent and sweet and chaste that you wanted to last so much longer than it did. Niles was the one to pull away first, a sweet smile playing at his lips as he opened his eye again. “So I’ll take that as a ‘Yes Niles, I love you too!’” Again, he was teasing but you found it hard to care in his warm grasp.

“Yes, I do. I love you too. So much.” You giggle as the words leave your mouth, something light and airy replacing the feeling of uncertainly and dread you had once felt. Niles could only sigh in content as you relaxed in his arms. This evening had gone far better than Niles could have ever hoped, all thanks to you being so receptive to his affections. After all, he would have hated to have made you love him back… This was for the better, in the end. You would always be by his side, and Niles would make sure only he could be the one to enjoy you to the fullest; to love, to laugh, to be the reason you smile, and the reason you cry. Niles wanted it all from you, dear Summoner, and you had yet to see just how greedy he could be.

“So it’s settled then. You and I, _____, are going to be quite the pair.” Niles couldn’t help his smile as you lead him to the fire, the chill of the window having gotten to you.

“Could you quit being weird for one moment? Just… act like a normal man for once and come cuddle with me?” You complained, sitting on a love seat and patting the spot next to you.

“If you insist.” He rolled his eye, pulling you close to him and smiling as you cuddled into his warmth. Oh, if only you knew Summoner. If only you knew…

[sarahwroteathing]

English 284 (1)

Word Count: 1495

Summary: Your proposal to teach a new class combining art and literature is accepted... under one little condition. (College AU)

Warnings: Language

A/N: We’re doing impulsive writing again because it worked well the last two times. Oof. Here we go again, folks. Image is of a painting mentioned in the chapter: “Ophelia” by Sir John Everett Millais. (Source)

Steve’s Perspective .

“Fellas, it’s happening!” you said, shoving the door of the lab open with your hip, laptop balanced precariously in your arms.

“Seriously? I changed the code yesterday! How did you get in here again?” Tony complained, letting his head fall forward onto the table with a dull thunk while Bruce scoffed.

“You changed it to my birthday, smartypants. Besides, my ID is still authorized on the card reader. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you enjoy my company.” 

You pulled a spare chair over to the table where Tony and Bruce were working, planting your own laptop primly on a stack of battered notebooks. Bruce’s probably. Tony abandoned paper ages ago. 

Despite the token protest, Tony was actually your closest friend at work, a pairing that completely baffled your colleagues. The specific brands of eccentricity displayed by English professors and Engineering professors didn’t tend to mix well. But the Dean of Studies, Pepper Potts, had recommended befriending Tony on your first day, and his quick humor and ostentatious confidence had effectively drowned out the imposter syndrome that plagued you during your first semester teaching. You’d met Bruce Banner only a few days later, and sharing lunches in Tony’s lab in the basement of the Engineering building had solidified into sacred tradition by the end of your second week. 

“Did you hear back about the new course proposal?” Bruce asked.

“Yes! I got the email notification on my way over here, but I haven’t opened it yet. Tony, tell me your wife isn’t going to break my heart.”

“We don’t talk about work at home. But I read your proposal, and it sounded… Well, I wouldn’t take that class, but it sounded like something Pepper would be into.”

You squirmed anxiously in your seat, logging into your email with a deep breath. You’d worked on this course proposal for the better part of a month, editing and re-editing the syllabus at least a dozen times. You had titled the course “The Painted Word.” A full semester class studying famous myths, plays, poems, and novels and the works of art they inspired. 

The idea formed when a picture of Sir John Everett Millais’s “Ophelia” i had sparked a lively debate among the students in your Shakespeare seminar. You’d spent the next week researching artistic representation of iconic characters and stories, and when you’d given a few of your classes the soft pitch of the course, you’d acquired more than enough signatures on the interest form to issue a formal request with the Dean of Studies. Being met with such enthusiasm had lulled you into a sense of security and excitement. In your mind, the course was already set in stone. Which is exactly why the email on your screen landed like a gut punch. 

“She said no?” you asked faintly, your eyes scanning and rescanning the first sentence. “While I appreciate your enthusiasm and the care and attention you put into your work, I do not feel that I can approve the course as you’ve submitted it.” 

You blinked owlishly but made no move to intervene when Tony snatched your laptop from its place in front of you. Bruce rolled his chair to read over Tony’s shoulder, and they wore twin expressions of puzzled displeasure which would have made you laugh if not for the current state of your professional goals. 

“She didn’t say no! It’s conditional approval,” Tony corrected, his expression clearing as he reached to roll your chair closer to him. “Look.”

I’m intrigued by the course description you’ve laid out here, and it certainly has no equivalent in our current course catalogue. I think we would be remiss to limit the course to the English Department and encourage you to consider an interdisciplinary approach with the Art Department. If you’re willing to collaborate with one of their professors so that students can benefit from the expertise of both relevant disciplines and gain credit with either department, I’d be happy to approve the course for the spring semester. I’d recommend getting in touch with Steven G. Rogers. He has taught a number of interdisciplinary courses during his time here, and I believe he would be a helpful resource for you. 

“She doesn’t think I can handle this on my own?” you asked, running your hands through your hair in frustration. “I have a Ph. D, dammit! I don’t need a babysitter.” 

“I’m sure that’s not what she meant,” Bruce said, reaching around Tony to squeeze your shoulder. “She just wants to open up the class a little more. You know the college has been pushing for more interdisciplinary classes.”

“Who the hell is Steven G. Rogers, and why does she think the sun shines out of his ass,” you muttered grumpily, determined to hold onto your bitterness just a little longer. 

“The sun couldn’t possibly shine out of his ass with the stick he keeps up there,” Tony said mildly, shocking a laugh out of you.

“Oh, God, tell me I won’t be stuck teaching with a stuffy old grump for a whole semester.”

“I’ve never had someone ask me to lie to them before. This is a weird feeling. Takes the fun out of it, almost.”

“He’s not that bad,” Bruce protested. 

“How do you both know this guy? I’ve never heard of him before in my life. This is - ” 

You broke off with a sigh, reclaiming your laptop and searching the faculty directory. 

“Why does this stupid website never have any pictures,” you complained, scrolling through his profile. 

“Be grateful. It would only make it worse for you,” Tony said with a smirk before smacking your hand away from the keyboard. “Wait, wait, wait! Does that say ‘Gentle Yoga?’ What the hell does that mean?”

“Yoga but in a sweater? On a pile of pillows and he braids your hair after?”

Tony snorted and started to respond, but you clapped your hand over his mouth immediately.

“Shut up. I heard it as soon as I said it. Don’t make it worse.” 

“It’s just low impact yoga. Lighter stretches. For people who don’t feel comfortable or able to do standard level yoga. We usually get a few students with sports injuries or disabilities.”

You and Tony both turned to look at Bruce, staring in silent shock for a few moments before speaking.

“...Did you say we? Why did you say we?”

“Bruce, do you have something you’d like to tell me?”

Bruce rolled his eyes, pushing up from his seat and crossing to his bag on the other side of the room, very pointedly ignoring you and Tony who were frantically scooting after him in your rolly chairs. 

“Bruce!” 

He had pulled out his phone and was typing something, but he pivoted to block your view when you tried to peek.

“I’m texting Steve to see if he has any open spaces in his teaching schedule next semester. You’re welcome.” 

“Why do you have his number?”

“Because we take turns teaching gentle yoga, which I’m pretty sure you’ve already figured out at this point, so drop it. And Tony has his number too by the way.”

“What?”

“Judas.”

“I thought you said he had a stick up his ass?”

“Well, the stick is sometimes useful, okay? And he’s not the worst person I’ve met. After a few whiskeys, he even approaches fun.” 

You let out an incredulous laugh, abandoning your chair to pace the length of the lab. 

“So you’re saying I should give this guy a shot?” you asked, massaging your temples against the stress headache that was starting to creep in. 

Bruce’s phone chimed quietly.

“He says he has an open space. Should I put in a good word for you?”

You wandered back towards your laptop, looking wistfully over your syllabus. 

“What are the chances this class will still be recognizable after his input?” you asked mournfully.

“You can change your mind and say no if you disagree with him. Find someone else,” Bruce said with a shrug. 

“And he’ll pull his weight?”

“He’ll pull all the weight unless you strongarm him out of it,” Tony said with a laugh. “Look, Pep knows what she’s doing. If she thinks you two would work well together, she’s probably right. Her last recommendation turned out alright, didn’t it?”

“You keep trying to lock me out of your lab,” you pointed out half-heartedly, but you gave a nod to Bruce who immediately started typing. 

“Yeah, well. Gotta keep you on your toes.”

“He said to send him the syllabus and let him know when you can meet to talk about it,” Bruce cut in, tucking his phone back into his bag. 

You let out a deep sigh, nerves already fluttering to life in your stomach at the thought of having to pitch this class to a colleague again. 

“What are the chances this turns into a huge disaster?” 

“I’d say about 50/50. Either way, it’ll be entertaining.”

“Tony!”

“What? She asked!”

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

Alright guys, what do we think? Are you into it? Excited? How do you think the meeting will go? Do you wanna read more? Let me know! Asks, reblogs, and replies make the world go ‘round!

Part 2

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[dailyaudiobible]

04/30/2021 DAB Transcript

Judges 11:1-12:15, John 1:1-28, Psalms 101:1-8, Proverbs 14:13-14

Today is the 30th day of April welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I am Brian it's great to be here with you today, it being the 30th day of April. That makes it the last day of April. So, here we are, the last day of the fourth month of our 12-month journey. We are well underway. Today is the 120th day of the year. So, we've taken 120 steps out of 365 steps. We are well underway way, out in the deep now as we sail across the year and through the Scriptures. So, in the Old Testament we’re in the book of Judges right now. Yesterday in the New Testament, we concluded the gospel of Luke, which will bring us once we get to the New Testament today to the final gospel, the gospel of John. And we’ll talk about that when we get there. But first Judges chapters 11 and 12

Introduction to the Gospel of John:

Okay, as we talked about at the beginning today, we have now reached the New Testament, which leads us into some brand-new territory, the final gospel, the gospel of John. And as we talked about before the gospel of John is different than Matthew, Mark, and Luke. Matthew, Mark, and Luke are the first three Gospels in the New Testament and they’re known as the synoptic Gospels because even…even though they are written to be read by different audiences they have a lot of the same material, a lot of the same stories. The gospel of John is very different than the first three, the synoptic Gospels. It’s like it has some things that are similar but it’s like 90% different from the other Gospels. And, so, this brings us a completely different perspective for Jesus’ life and ministry. It actually even looks at Jesus differently. In Matthew, Mark, and Luke we…we see Jesus being a human being, doing His earthly ministry. And it’s not that we won’t see that in the gospel of John. It’s just that John's conclusions, his Christology, right, his view of Jesus is…is a very elevated. So, the gospel of John we will perceive Jesus as divine, as God in these stories a little bit more explicitly than we see in the synoptic Gospels. And the thing is, John…this is this is John, the apostle…the apostle John that we’re…that we’re talking about here. And, so, he would've been aware. This is the final gospel to be written, the last of the Gospels in time to be written, probably roughly 30 years maybe after the gospel of Mark. So, you now, Mark comes first and then Matthew and Luke and then you and then John and there's a span of about 30-ish years there roughly and all of these writings all of the gospel narratives were written after the letters of Paul. Paul's writings are the…the earliest Christian documents that are preserved. But we’ll talk about that when we get to Paul and we’ve got a ways to go. But whereas Matthew, Mark, and Luke are written to be compelling descriptions of Jesus and His life and His sacrifice and what His purpose was, they were written to compel a person to believe whereas John is writing aware of the other Gospels already. He knows the parts of the stories that have been told. He knows the whole story because he was there in the ministry with Jesus watching Jesus do His ministry. And, so, John is writing to people who already do believe. He wrote it to build up their faith, to strengthen them that they might come to know Jesus in a deeper, more profound way. And, so, with that we begin the final gospel. John chapter 1 verses 1 through 28.

Commentary:

Okay. So, we have entered into the gospel of John and, you know, we’re just taking our first step in and just getting our toes wet. And our toes are wet by the Jordan River. That's where we find ourselves today, with John baptizing. And, so, that's the lay of the land there and we’ve kind of talked about where were going as we go into this final gospel.

But in the book of Judges today we are in this story that's so disconcerting. It’s like so disruptive. Like what is going on here with the story of Jephthah one of the judges of Israel who makes a vow to God that if God does what he wants, and what he wants is to be victorious in battle, but if God gives him what he wants that he's gonna sacrifice the first thing that comes out his front door to God. And that's…I mean…that's probably gonna be a person, right? If you think, “the first thing that comes out my front door” I mean…that…that’s likely to not be an animal. Like, it could be but like what kind of vow is that? Can you imagine, “Lord, you know, if you give me a raise this week, I’ll sacrifice the first thing that comes out my front door. So, we’re upside down even as we begin. Jephthah is victorious in battle and when he comes home it's his daughter that comes out the front door and his heart is broken as we see from the narrative in the Scriptures that now he's made a vow to God that he can't break a vow to God. Now he regrets the vow he made. And, so, when the daughter really understands that it's…it's her…like she's gonna die, she asks for a couple months. And there's all kinds of ways to try to make this story different than the story is. Like, he didn’t really sacrifice her. She didn’t really die. She just had to remain like childless. Like, there’s…there's ways that we try to make things different than they are when they're not how we…how we want them to be. And this is a story that we wouldn't like…we’d rather this be a different kind of story. But that's just not how it reads. And, so, we have to just read it as it reads. She goes away for two months, she comes back. Her father sacrifices her to God and then a tradition is born from that point forward that moves on throughout Israel where some days are spent each year kind of reliving that story and wandering around. We look at that and it's like I head scratcher, it's confusing. What's going on here? Why is this in the Bible? Here’s another one of these encounters with a story that's just a tragedy. The thing that…that we have to see is that God didn't ask Jephthah for that kind of vow in any way in any shape. Jephthah made this vow and then once everything came to fruition, he kept his vow. God didn't ask for the vow. God didn't send his angel and say, “Jephthah, I will give you victory in battle if you will sacrifice the first thing that comes out of your door” and then Jephthah makes an agreement, and this is all on God. This is all on Jephthah. When it comes to human sacrifice, God's pretty explicit in the Bible, that He had never asked for any of that from anyone. In fact, God says in the Scriptures that it had never entered His mind. Like He never even thought of that. So, we have to understand the time that we are in. Moses is dead. Joshua is dead. The entire generation that walked with Joshua is dead. We have moved centuries forward. Everyone is doing what is right in their own eyes. Israel has fallen away to worship all kinds of other gods, the God's of the regions around them, precisely what they were warned against. And, so, now they are a convoluted mess. That's how “something like the first person that walks out my front door will be a sacrifice to God” could even happen. It's not in the Mosaic law. It's never a commandment anywhere in the Bible. This is what doing what's right in your own eyes leads to. The people have become tribal even toward each other. They aren't a cohesive unit. They are fragmenting the underpinning of what held them together, which is the law, which is not being adhered to and they are committing spiritual adultery by giving themselves, giving their hearts in worship to another God. This is idolatry. It was God who rescued them and came to them and said, “I am your God. I am the only. There is no other.” And yet, here they are chasing after false gods. That's how things get the way that they are. So, we can look at this story and it can turn our stomach, or it can tip us upside down or it can tip us sideways and we’re like blaming God for all this. We have to understand, God didn't do this, didn't ask for this, has no part in this. And from here we just keep watching. We just keep watching what the children of Israel did. We wandered in the wilderness with them. We came out of slavery with them. We've been with them all along and we saw how they were knit together to be a people. But they are completely a fragmented tribal society at this point. It's falling apart and there are judges that come, and they bring people back and then there are judges that do things like Jephthah and then there are judges that are just simply mentioned. We don’t know anything about them or what they did. What we do know is that this tight unit of people that were on the same page, following their God across the Jordan River, we’re not gonna see anything like that again. The slide that we begin to see here in the book of Judges continues all the way until we get to the place where these very same people that have been rescued from slavery kill the one who rescued them and didn't even see it. That’s how blind. And, so, we’re watching this slide from here in Judges and it will continue forward. It’s a back-and-forth. There will be definitely generations that return to God with all kinds of vigor and God will bless them. But it's this kind of continual downward slide where two steps forward, one step back toward their own destruction.

Prayer:

Father, we thank You for Your word. We don’t like disruptive stories. But we thank You that we…we can engage, we can learn, we can look into those stories because some of the reasons that we don't like them is that they’re in the Bible. And, so, it makes us feel weird, like why would You want this in there? It's so that we can see how bad things can get. It's a warning to us not to follow the same pathways because they only lead to destruction. And, so, come Holy Spirit. Probably not any one of us have made any kind of vow like Jephthah and we never will but we do have all kinds of expectations and we need to reset those. We need to align our expectations with Yours instead of trying to fit You into our expectations. Come Holy Spirit we pray. In the name of Jesus, we ask. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is the website, its home base, its where you find out what’s going on around here. And, so, be sure to stay tuned and stay connected.

Little baby Reagan just got here and we’re about to move into a new month. And, so, she'll be experiencing her first full month of life in the month of May, which is exciting. I had made it all the way through this day without saying anything, but I can't help it. It's a joyous time around here. And, so, thank you for your continued prayers over all the adjustments that are necessary to welcome new life into a…into your family. We appreciate that very much and the outpouring of love over this new life.

So, that is a lot of what's going on around here right now, but certainly at in the Community section at dailyaudiobible.com that’s where the Prayer Wall is and there are always things going on there as well. Always things to pray for and pray over and invite prayer over in your life. So, check that out.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, you can do that at dailyaudiobible.com. There is a link on the homepage. Thank you profoundly, humbly for your partnership. We just simply wouldn't exist. We wouldn't be doing this if we weren't in this together. And, so, thank you, thank you deeply for your partnership. If you’re using the Daily Audio Bible app you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, if you've a prayer request or encouragement you can hit the Hotline button in the app or you can dial 877-942-4253.

And that's it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

[elegant-etienne]

3. [I] trusted [you]

Send me a number to receive a micro story!

Thank you for the ask, @maybeimawhale​!

(This song is what always comes to mind when I see the word ‘Trusted.’ And I think a lot about how I used to relate to this song, in the wake of a really bad break-up, but now that I’m older, I have to wonder if the narrator of the song is being at all reasonable. I also find it helpful, when revisiting subjects I’ve written before, to twist around the perspective a bit, and give myself permission, without naming the character in this piece, to treat Etienne’s ex-husband as a NPC, and admit to myself a lot of my own character’s faults from the outside.)

BEHIND THE CUT: Descriptions of a toxic marriage, substance abuse and addiction, suicidal ideation and an attempt, allusions to past abuse and PTSD, and very inaccurate TBH but this is more or less how I remember it going down descriptors of someone having a “split personality,” and some light misgendering of Etienne (they ID’ed as male when they met their ex-husband, and at the time of their wedding).

Also I am sorry for any errors, I can’t go back and fix them after the initial post or it’ll break the formatting on the post.

insp. Ben Folds - Trusted

It's funny I know But I'm disappointed in you I thought you could read my mind

Your husband - your spouse Etienne is doing better after the time away. Actually, the time when they was sleeping in the recovery wing - three sennights - is among the best you two have had. A few hours of visitation, and they're affectionate and loving and missing you. Even a rare smile, and they show you where the stitches came out. A bell or two isn't enough time to get worked into a fervor about things and restart the same fights you've been having for moons.

When they return, Etienne has warmth in their cheeks again. They're gaining weight again. They don't smile, but they've always been quiet about that sort of thing. They've missed you. They've missed you so much. They look more like they did on your wedding day, that reserved, understated glow. They look like the Etienne you married.

(In those moments when you thought you could still be one person successfully. In those moments when they thought they'd killed the other you. In those moments when they stood at you at the altar, teary-eyed but happy, so happy.)

"Welcome home, Etie," you say with your brightest grin.

"I'll be better this time. I promise. I'll never do that again."

You laugh and embrace. You're both so relieved.

But I came home early And saw that a drawer'd been opened Looks like you've been reading my diary instead

After a long shift in Medica, all you want to do is come home and take a bath. Etienne seems to have other ideas, however. They're seated at the desk. They're glaring at you. They hold up your notebook - the one with all the reports.

"So this is what you've been doing at night while I'm gone? Forbidden research and magic? I thought we talked about this! It's too dangerous, after the last time. What if it goes too far?"

"There was no one else who could do it. It had to be me." You've never raised your voice to Etienne. Not once. Sometimes, you've cried while you're fighting. Etienne has shouted before. Twice. It frightened you.

(They wanted to kill the other half of you.)

"What if something had happened to you while I was in care? I wouldn't have known where you were. And what if there had been an emergency at the FC? Folk need you. I need you. And you promised..." Etienne bows their head, sucking in sharp breaths to try and stop the crying.

"You have no business going through my notes. There could have been patient information in there!"

"...You were acting strangely. You were hurt. You weren't telling me things. You broke your promise." The tears have been withdrawn, all that's left is dead, blank sullenness from Etienne.

"I had no other choice."

"Did you even try to stop and think of one?"

"There wasn't time. Percy and--"

"Percy?!" There it is, the raised voice, a burst of life, a flame in their eyes. "I knew it. I knew he and you--"

"It was work--"

"--Have something going on, you told me it was nothing, you told me you weren't seeing him when I wasn't around-- While I was in the bloody hospital from trying to kill myself because I can't stand this, and you wouldn't leave me alone, you wouldn't just give me the space, and now the moment you have you're running around--" Etienne always gets like this. A million words a moment. Each a pointed attack, an accusation. When Etienne gets this way, you can't do anything right.

"--It's only work--!"

"Maybe I shouldn't have come back. Maybe Rosa was right, it's too soon, we're not ready." Etienne straights their posture, scrubbing at their eyes with the heels of their hands. "I drew you a bath. I'm going to bed."

How does it feel to realize You're all alone behind your eyes?

The bath is strewn with rose petals, the candles burned down hours ago. It's dark and cool in the bedroom off the heat of the bath. Your spouse is bunched up in one corner of the bed. "I love you, you know," you speak to the dark. To Etienne's back.

"I love you too," Etienne says, but doesn't turn around. “...Be honest. Did you fuck him?”

“No, it’s not like that. He found this... it was like a cursed circus, full of twisted creatures, he needed cleansing spells, he was able to show me ways to amplify my power...”

(He knows about the other you.)

"It's alright if you did," Etienne says, malms away in the same bed. Did they even hear your explanation? "If you want to, just tell me. We can figure out an arrangement, a lot of married couples do, just don't lie to me. Don't lie."

"It's not like that."

It seems to me if you can't trust You can't be trusted

You wait to hear the soft wheeze of Etienne's snores, but you drift off before they do. Somehow. In the middle of the night, it's a repeat of others. This hasn't changed with the time in care ward, apparently. Etienne sits up and starts screaming, won't be held, won't be comforted. 3AM in the morning and your spouse is in the corner, knees to chest, rocking. They start rooting around, too, when you pretend to sleep. They won't find anything. You poured all the liquor out sennights ago -- even the things in the back of the icebox and at the top of the bookshelf.

Caught in a dream Picking up astral signals Some of them psychic, you better watch what you think

You come home to Etienne sitting in front of their vanity. You see the shimmer of a deactivated glamour prism. There are tears in their eyes, but you don't know why. They slip the plate into a drawer somewhere, and you do not ask more about it.

"I got more of the sedative. To help you with sleeping. So you don't have to drink." It's never difficult to cadge a little bit of medicine on the side for loved ones when it's needed - such are the benefits of being one of the heads of Medica. No one has to ask any questions. Etienne doesn't have to get upset or embarrassed at exposing their problems to anyone they don't trust. Rosa doesn't have to put her foot down and force Etienne to stay in the care ward, away from you. It's win-win.

Something flits across Etienne's face - suspicion, mayhap, and they say-- "I'm going to try and handle it. I'm. I don't know if it's a good idea for you to keep giving me that stuff."

"The sedative's non-habit-forming. It's better than alcohol, at least."

"I still shouldn't turn to something every time I'm distressed. It scares me. Depending on that."

"Then at least talk to me about what's bothering you."

Etienne looks at you through the mirror, not turning around. "It's not anything distinct. It's. Hands. Being pulled down into darkness. Being pinned down. Being unable to escape. Sometimes it's so real I feel it, getting slammed into a wall or onto the icy ground... and no matter how I struggle, I can't get free. So I start screaming."

"Etie..."

"Well, whatever. Everyone's got their shite." You hate this. How they mutter and retreat into themselves. They fold up into themselves and they don't come back.

(Your nightmares are of fire, of the Calamity. Lost in the woods, mother and father are gone, you can't find your brother's hand--)

Etienne shuffles resentfully into the silence. "Are you willing to tell me what you did on that mission?"

"Are you promising not to get angry when I tell you the  details?"

Etienne lifts their chin. "I'll decide that when you tell me."

(You tell them. You don't tell them all of it. You don't tell them he's back.)

Happens to be that everybody else's dreams are Freudian clues You better watch what you dream

A few suns later, Etienne makes breakfast for you. That pink ruffly apron, but there's no singing this morning: just the sizzling pan. "Do you remember anything at all about last night?" they ask, plating up the little fish with fresh, fluffy rice. They loved that Doman cooking book you got them.

"Um..."

Etienne pours you scalding hot green tea. "I went looking for you. I gave that friend of yours quite a scare. I think maybe he thought I'd burn him alive." Etienne snorts. "I just made his tea boil a bit. When he told me the truth of what you two have been up to."

"Why would you--"

"Then I found you in the Quicksand. Chatting up someone else. Are you cheating on us both, darling?"

Your head's spinning as you try to braid the threads of last night back together. "That wasn't me--"

"No, it wasn't. I brought him back here. He was as awful to me as ever." Etienne accuses with swordlike jabs. "If he's back," they say, "Why did we do any of it? The ritual? I almost lost you then! Why did you make me do any of that if he was just going to come back?"

(Your head hurts.)

"You shouldn't have gone through my things," you hiss out. "There are things that you are better off not knowing!"

"Oh, like the fact you and that boy have a magical connection? Unlike anything either of you has ever experienced? And how you - the other you - is the most brilliant mind he's ever known? It's just like I said. Remember that? You said nothing was happening, but he's totally in love with you."

"It isn't like that."

"Tell that to him, then."

(Etienne never listens.)

"Even if there's something going on - it - it isn't with me and him, it's--"

"The other one. I know. The other one who threatened to kill me."

"He was just testing you."

"And that makes it better?"

"He's lashing out because you tried to destroy him."

"He started it. You said the ritual would fix you," Etienne rasps out a whisper. "I can't believe this. I can't believe we did all that and... I'm dragging someone wearing the body of my husband out of a seedy tavern. I looked like such a fool. I thought we fixed this."

"Maybe," you feel your voice dropping to a growl, "I never needed to be fixed."

You want to see the other side What's going on behind the eyes

(Last winter, you came out of a fog to Etienne staring at you, withdrawn into a calmly blank expression, their posture stiff.

"Why," they ask you, "Did you just threaten to murder me?"

You said, groggily, "What?"

And you explained it all. The splitting.

"How am I supposed to feel safe around you when there's - there's something inside you that wants to kill me?" Etienne asks, too steadily. "He knows everything about me that I've told you. He knows what I'm afraid of. This is a problem." They say, and they speak your name urgently.

"I'm sorry if I scared you, if - if he did."

"Oh, I wasn't scared," Etienne says, quietly and intensely. "I'm used to being around men who'd just as soon slit my throat as fuck me. Or one and then the other, with no particular preference of the order. I just didn't realize you were one of them.")

Still it seems if you can't trust You can't be trusted

Here is one of the fights you've had more than once: your friend thought of a way to get rid of the other personality. Put him into another body.

"So we'd just take the body of someone who - what? Even if you found a willing subject, that would be killing someone." Etienne pulls their knees up to their chest, the water rippling. You're sitting at the edge of the bath. They seem to want to melt into the steam wafting off the surface. It makes them dewy. You're not sure if they're crying or not.

"No," you tell them, "We could put him into another body where the spirit had already returned to the Lifestream."

"That's necromancy. I won't do necromancy."

"We may have no other option."

"If you mess with corpses, you really won't have control over what ends up in there. You could be inviting something very, very bad in. You know that, don't you? What you're talking about is defiling the dead. It's a sin. It's a defiance of Nald'Thal's balance. It's a perversion of everything I believe. You know that. You shouldn't do it. Don't ask me to do it!"

"What if we have no other choice?"

Etienne stands up in the water, then, thinking to get out. They shout, "I can't do it! Don't ask me!" Their voice echoes and buzzes in the small space of the bath. The water ripples as they sink back down into it. They let the water bury them like a comfort blanket. "I'm - I'm sorry. Please just go away," they say in a tiny voice. "Let me think."

"I'll be outside."

Didn't you know we're as close as we can be?

In the end, what else could you do? Etienne didn't trust you to handle the situation. Etienne wouldn't participate in the most obviously effective ritual. Etienne was angry at you when the first attempt didn't work as planned. Etienne was an unstable, suicidal, dangerously alcoholic. It hadn't taken much time at all after the hospitalization for them to fall back on old ways.

They couldn't be trusted.

On the day you left to do it, you kissed their forehead, tucked the blankets all around them, and put strong wards on the doors after emptying another round of hidden bottles.

The sun's coming up She's pulled all the blankets over Curled in a ball Like she's hiding from me and That's when I know

Their voice comes over the linkpearl. There's a danger to it. "Why are there wards on the door, what are these?"

"It's the only way to keep you from drinking when I can't be there," you explain calmly.

Etienne sucks in a breath, and you brace for yelling. "You can't just lock me in here," they whisper. "I'm a person. I'm an adult. You have to let me out."

"I have somewhere to be for a few suns. You've food in there. You'll be alright. Sober up."

"Can't you call someone to come check on me? Rosa, or someone? Please, I can't - don't leave me here alone."

"I'm sorry, it was my only option. This can't wait."

She's gonna be pissed when she wakes up For terrible things I did to her in her dreams

The apartment is in poor shape when you return. It seems at several points Etienne attempted to magic the doorway and scorched the rug - or the levin sparked and started a fire - and they also attempted sheer brute force. One of the charming little kitchen chairs is splintered. But the Etienne you find is more like the Etienne you married. Ducking their head shyly, saying, "I'm really sorry... I'm sorry I relapsed, I'm weak."

"I'm sorry I had to do that," you say. The two of you hug desperately.

(You're sorry you had to do all of it.)

You want to see the other side What's going on behind the eyes

(You're sorry the first ritual failed. The softness and patience Etienne showed you then, when you were recovering, when you didn't remember them - they were just as sweet as they'd been when you first got married. When you first started dating. Before everything got so bad.)

Still it seems if you can't trust You can't be trusted

The night Etienne tried to kill themselves, you had a fight. It was about all those nights you went out, not telling them where you were going. "I can't keep doing this," Etienne said to you, staring up at the statue of Nald'thal in the Ossuary. "I can't." They speak your name with such quiet urgency. "I need time to think."

"Please," you beg, your eyes stinging. "Don't leave me." You grab their arm. They try to jerk away from the touch.

Their voice echoes loud in the Ossuary. "Don't bloody touch me when I’m upset! Please!"

You hold onto their arm harder. Their arm is so thin. They're slipping away from you. "Please don't leave, please don't be angry. Please...!"

"I'm not -- I'm not -- I just..."

You're sobbing.

"I'm sorry, darling," Etienne says, gently touching your face, your hair, "Let's go home."

You have a long conversation-argument at the apartment. You explain why the work is essential. They beg you to promise not to do things that put you in danger. You tell them you'll do your best. You don't like doing things that upset them, after all.

"I don't know what's wrong with me,” Etienne murmurs. “I feel hounded, I can't sleep. You're always so busy. Since the ritual and... since that... incident with Henri..."

"Are you guilty? Because of what happened?"

"I honestly just want to be alone," Etienne says. They are sitting at the desk about a yalm from you, but they're malms away. "So much has happened the last few moons. I need to figure it out."

"Do you mean traveling? I can't right now, with work -- and I don't know if it's a good idea for you to be on your own. I don't think you're alright on your own right now."

"True," Etienne says, lowering their head. They shuffle around in the desk, and your feel your face heat. Another bottle? Etienne whispers something, "You won't let me go," mayhap, and then. The letter opener.

Thank the Twelve you're a healer. Thank the Twelve you had the sedative. They beg you for it that night, after you stop the bleeding. They can’t sleep and they’re half mad, crying and ranting. And you take them to your co-worker Rosa in the morning. She takes Etienne away from you. Says they need to rest and recover under direct supervision. Etienne doesn't even want to see you at first, or perhaps it's that Rosa won't let you near them. She's the one who stipulated only short visits while Etienne recovers. She only lets you back after Etienne sleeps for two suns straight.

Didn't you know we're as close as we can be?

You remember the day you fell in love with Etienne. You both were sitting at the Quicksand. You had tea, they had orange juice, and another man sat down between you two at the table and made himself welcome. He asked you why you stuttered.

"While on the subject of questions, why are you so bloody rude?" Etienne asked. They said to you, "You don't have to answer that." And you smiled, feeling sunshine radiating out of every pore.

"I'm not the sort of man for relationships," Etienne said, later, as you walked down the streets of Ul'dah, over to the steps of the Ossuary. You offered to escort them to work, as though they needed it. "I've been through a lot. I don't even know if I can love anyone - it all seems like kind of a fool's errand, honestly. Men are... I've just met so many, many awful men."

You took their hand, and they look at you, surprised. "I can be patient," you promised them, "I can wait. I think you're worth it. I think you're worth trying for. I've never met anyone like you."

"Well, thank you, I suppose," Etienne says, their lips twisting as they hold back skeptical laughter. "Let’s promise one another, though - let’s be honest with one another about how this going. If someone else catches your fancy, or I do something you don't like, please just tell me. You wouldn't believe how many times I got hauled out of a nobleman's bed by a surprised wife. As if it's my fault their marriage is falling apart! I don't want anything like that, alright? No silly secrets!”

"Promise."

“Not that I imagine we'll get married. I'm really not the type." Etienne laughs at the sky. “What am I doing?!”

Hello.

[fyrapartnersearch]

Ally's Apocalyptic Ad (Tripple threat)

Well hi there honey ～

The Quarantine has compelled me to post another ad onto FYRA, since there isn’t much you can do other than spend your days inside, I figured I’ll use this as a perfect opportunity to reach out to those who are interested in a specific role-play with me! :)

The name’s Aaliyah or Ally for short, and I will cut right to the chase. I am looking for a mature role-player, preferably 21+ but will also accept 18+ (just to be sure that you are of legal age, otherwise it’ll be uncomfortable).

I recently turned 27, with 12 years of experience, and hope to meet someone who shares a passion for creative writing and formulating interesting plots and characters. In case you are curious about me as a person, I am a full-time student and a young writer who works at the gym on the side, but also enjoys other creative outlets such as drawing and photography.  But at the moment, as the pandemic is spreading, I am reduced to attending online courses, thus have loads of free time on my hands. Be sure that you’re able to uphold a stable Roleplay. And if I do not message you back right away, I hope you can forgive me. I will make sure to let you know if either my capacity is full, or if I am not able to respond right away due to technical issues (or other reasons). If you are hitting a hiatus, that is more than fair! A simple message to put things on hold will completely suffice, but I would like to keep in touch in case the story bears great potential. I very much enjoy video-games, tv-shows, comics, films, books, and the list goes on. Hopefully, I can attract some kindred spirits. I roleplay both Canon and Original! 
But currently, I am looking for something very specific, and that something is heavily focused on Supernatural / Gothic / Horror / Urban Fantasy genre. So if there’s no luck in finding a fitting Canon based story, we can always switch to original world-building. For fandoms, I have only picked out four very specifically that I am more than willing to do. I have a heavy craving for a role-play based around dark gritty plots, deeply well-written characters and a whole lot of sass. So if you’re in the mood for something spicy, hit me up.

What it comes down to:

What the Partnership should be: I strongly encourage an active roleplayer who is not afraid of sharing 50% of ideas, plotting, length, detail but most important of all, passion. A bird cannot fly with only one wing. Communication: I’m a chatterbox, so I love making new friends while brainstorming! Communication is the bedrock of it all. It strengthens our compatibility and the story. Should there be something that bothers you, or if you think your characters are not given any proper attention (be it a mistake on my part or if we’re both at fault here), don’t worry about it. Just tell me and we can figure things out. I have no issues with rewriting scenes for a better narrative, or, correct a mistake. We can always exchange and see what would benefit the story most. The Way of Writing: Not a fan of one-liners or text-talk. No half-assed replies. And certainly no ‘quality over quantity’ when you can have both. What I expect for you to have is a basic grasp of grammar. Not to say you need to write a perfectly articulated novel - obviously, a no brainer. I don’t either, but if I get the feeling of my partner wavering in their effort and not investing as much as I do, I have to give them the chop, unfortunately. Too often have I encountered partners who showed strong enthusiasm at first but as time progressed… they slacked and eventually only put an adequate amount of effort into their side whilst completely disregarding my characters.

How I write:

My writing: Third person perspective usually, although I have made some exceptions in my years of writing. My style is a wide spectrum and very flexible, which means that frequently, the word count can go up to 1000+ per reply - though it depends on the given situation and partner. And yes, I do double, preferably even, most likely in canon universes. However this again wholly depends on the type of story, partner, and the cast of characters. I am very open and willing to discuss. 
Rating: So you are writing with someone mature. I have 12 years of writing under my belt. There will be violence, there will be swearing, there will be gore. Intimate, uncomfortable topics such as drama, erotica and other topics close to that will always be included with me as a partner. I have few limits but I will respect the boundaries of my partner. And lastly, I won’t fade to black or skip out on the nitty-gritty, unless it doesn’t serve a particular purpose in forwarding the story, then I can make an exception. Characters: I write both canon and OC characters. Face claims, GIFs, drawings, mood boards or just a plain physical description should suffice. Characters ought to be written as opulent, flawed, unique, talented, heroic, villainous, spiteful, angry, and everything in-between, beings. Don’t be afraid of making them human. Romance: Openly play and accept characters of both genders, preferable m x f pairings, but I am open to m x m and f x f relationships as well. I have more experience with m x f relationships, so I am more flexible with this one. If the chemistry of two characters compel me, I’m on board! When it comes to sexual situations and intimacy (intercourse, foreplay, all that funny business), I am not particularly squeamish about it. I encourage eroticism, but always in a tasteful, sensual manner (that goes for romance as well), though it is never the main focus of any of my stories, rather a tool for furthering the plot. Erotica is welcome but not the center of any of my roleplays, so I’d rather have it develop naturally and not rush it from one ‘sex-scene’ to the next. Content: Drama, violence, action, romance, pretty much everything's a-okay. I have no qualms with explicit subjects that may be uncomfortable for the general public. Roleplays are fictional stories and we best keep viewing them as such. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me, right? If there are things you are uncomfortable with, name them and I shall respect your boundaries. My roleplays imply and involve brutality such as psychological and physical trauma among other things. It may be difficult to read and write, but it is all part of the plan and a way of progressing the story. However, that’s not the end of it. I 100% endorse beauty, serenity and placid moments as well. It is all needed for our characters to grow and evolve. I love it when it all comes full circle… everyone- and everything has a beautiful and hideous side. This is for adults and I am not here to coddle, I am here for a challenge.


And finally, here are the things that I am looking for interest-wise! If your fields of interest are not listed here, I am sorry, but I won't be compelled to do anything but those things mentioned down below. Sorry :(

☞ Castlevania *** ☞ Devil May Cry **** ☞ Hellsing *** ☞ Hellboy ** ☞ Constantine *** ☞ AU / Where all universes clash into each other **** ☞ The Boys ** ☞ Bayonetta ** ☞ Buffy *

As for original plots, I am very keen on urban and gothic fantasy, but I am also inclined to do fantasy/alternative reality, mythology, etc. I have plenty of ideas up my sleeve, some of them fully fleshed out and some of them mere rough concepts still in progress. Either way, I would rather have these ideas introduced throughout email or whatever platform we choose to communicate on. I also have a strong penchant for world-building, especially worlds on a metaphysical plain or different planets, dimensions like the underworld, netherworld, purgatory, heaven, etc.

Original themes:

☞ Supernatural / Metaphysical (Demons, Angels, Spirits, Monsters, Hunters, Cosmic Horror,  etc.)
 ☞ Mystery
 ☞ Crime
 ☞ Action
 ☞ Horror
 ☞ Romance
 ☞ Thriller
 ☞ Monsters 



As a precaution, here are the things I am not interested in:

☞ Slice of life
 Topics that aren’t listed in my ad (although I am not against trying something new, I have had many messages that suggested we roleplay something completely out of my field.) 
 ☞ Anime cliches
 ☞ Solely smut focused plots

Aaaand should I hit a hiatus myself, I will notify asap!


Platforms I use are email and google-docs. I also have a Discord account in case we plot and chat outside of the RP. However, Google Hangouts has proven itself as a sufficient chat-medium for OOC-chat, so I rather stay on email (in case you also have a Gmail account).

If you message me, please use the referred codenames below so I know your specific interest. :)

♠ 𝕮𝖔𝖑𝖉 𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖊𝖉: Canon 


♥ 𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕶𝖎𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖘: Original 


Even though not mandatory, it is preferred. I would love to read a small description of yourself and your passions. Message me here: EMAIL: aylosreverie@gmail.com Excited to hear from you! Sincerely yours -Ally

[manuscripts-dontburn]

Living with Ghosts: Eleven Extraordinary Tales

Author: Prince Michael of Greece

First published: 1996

Pages: 192

Rating: ★☆☆☆☆

How long did it take: 1 day

I was hoping for a cozy-creepy reading for an autumn day, unfortunatelly, Prince Micheal failed me yet again. The man is, at best, and average writer, and this book more than any other shows how self-obsessed and special he (thinks) he is. Because this Prince can see ghosts. Literally any place he steps in he can see them and they narrate their stories to him. The worst parts of the book were him trying to "sound" like the female ghosts he chose to present, because they all sound like a machine. And a male one at that. His stories, so completely and obviously made up by him (whereas I had hoped he was simply rewriting an original lore) were uninspired and for most part bland. Finally, the dude cannot even get his own family history accurately right, so how am I supposed to believe even the parts which are supposed to be a real depiction of history? Greatly disappointed.

House of Glass

Author: Susan Fletcher

First published: 2018

Pages: 368

Rating: ★★★★★

How long did it take: 7 days

This book is like a strong summer heat, the kind which flows through your bones and closes your eyes and everything feels lazy and languishing, the pleasant type of exhaustion. There are so many aspects to it, and so many things I love, that I do not feel the need to explain and describe it. I just want to bask in its feeling for a little while more.

The Romanov Royal Martyrs: What Silence Could Not Conceals

Author: Mesa Potamos Monastery

First published: 2019

Pages: 512

Rating: ★★★★☆

How long did it take: 7 days

This book offers yet another view of the Romanovs, their personalities, decisions and influence on the Russian history (as well as guilt/innocence). Naturally one needs to take into account that this ais a book by deeply religious Orthodox Christians about other deeply religious Orthodox Christians and the faith and its importance for the last Imperial family is the underlying theme for this whole book. The writing flows very naturally, and even though at times I thought the book was way too apologetic in regards to Nicholas and his share of blame on the minefield of events between 1894-1917, it does make one consider those events from a perspective rarely explored by historians (who in general tend to be snarky and smart-ass, if not outright damning). Finally, one has to admit this publication is simply beautiful. Richly illustrated with black and white photos and a bunch of coloured ones near the very end as well.

Maria and Anastasia: The Youngest Romanov Grand Duchesses In Their Own Words

Author: Helen Azar (editor)

First published: 2015

Pages: 191

Rating: ★★★★★

How long did it take: 5 days

Excellent resource focused on two msot overlooked girls in the family. The letters written by Maria Nikolaevna especially give the Grand Duchess her own distinctive voice.

Man's Search for Meaning

Author: Viktor E. Frankl

First published: 1946

Pages: 165

Rating: ★★★★★

How long did it take: 6 days

What makes this recollection of Holocaust different from all other books on the same topic is the chosen point of view. The horrible situation of the prosoners, the torture, the humiliation, all of it is there, but instead the focus is on looking for a viable reason for living. Extremely interesting, uplifting and definitely offering food for thought and self-reflection. The only problem I had was the audiobook, where the narrator, for whatever ungodly reason, decided to speak with a ridiculous German accents every time a fellow prisoner or a guard was quoted.

The Devil in the White City: Murder, Magic, and Madness at the Fair that Changed America

Author: Eric Larson

First published: 2003

Pages: 496

Rating: ★★★★★

How long did it take: 7 days

What an excellent book! (at least as far as the enjoyment goes)I was honestly surprised at how much it grabbed me and did not let go. The juxtapositioning of the achievement of the human effort and inspiration (and pigheadedness) to the lowest brutality which forms the other part of the human nature was well balanced. Whenever the parts about the World exhibition started to be a bit too tiring, one was thrust into the cold and horrifying world of a serial killer. And when those became too overwhelming, returning to the lights of the White city felt like a welcome reprieve. Definitely a non-fiction worth your while.

Anna Pavlova: Twentieth Century Ballerina

Author: Jane Pritchard

First published: 2013

Pages: 208

Rating: ★★★★☆

How long did it take: 2 days

This is a beautiful tribute to Anna Pavlova the Dancer and her enormous legacy. It is richly illustrated with high-quality photographs and makes for a perfect cofee table book. Sadly, I still know next to nothing about Anna Pavlovna the Person.

Children of Blood and Bone

Author: Tomi Adeyemi

First published: 2018

Pages: 531

Rating: ★★★☆☆

How long did it take: 15 days

Sooooooo..... this is one of those books I probably would have loved had it been around when I was 14, but at 32 and some pretty decent reading behind me I feel rather indifferent to it. I appreciate the underlying thought as well as the African-inspired setting, but other than that the book felt extremely awkward in pacing (the first half is literally just action with hardly any world-building, other times the story seems to simply stop.... and not do anything). The author holds a promise, but as of this book it is far from genius (the random modernized language thrown into the conversation rubbed me the wrong way) and all three main protagonists were extremely interchangable when it came to their "voices". I prefer some mystery to my stories too, so the very much linear and served-all-at-once kind of storytelling here did not suit me. Add to it the book is full of YA chlichés, and what you get is a competent book that can take your mind off of your own daily worries for a bit, but that could also have been so much more.

Chernobyl Prayer: A Chronicle of the Future

Author: Svetlana Alexievich

First published: 1997

Pages: 294

Rating: ★★★★★

How long did it take: 5 days

I have read books about torture and plagues, about wars and pandemics, about murders and slavery, but few of those raised such horror in me, made me so utterly exhausted and left me both angry and just numb. I am one of the children who were born in the central Europe shortly after the Chernobyl disaster and as such I have heard the name and have always had some knowledge of the event. But this book finally put it into perspective, made me aware of the acute danger, criminal decisions and human despair the name of Chernobyl truly stands for. It is as important as it is horrifying.

A Dog's Heart

Author: Mikhail Bulgakov

First published: 1925

Pages: 125

Rating: ★★★☆☆

How long did it take: 5 days

I love Bulgakov with all his feverish energy, poetic descriptions of the ordinary and racing imagination, but though I liked this book, it was, in parts, way too jumpy and sketchy to be truly enjoyed. Would probably work better as a theatrical play.

Marina

Author: Carlos Riuz Zafón

First published: 1999

Pages: 196

Rating: ★★★★☆

How long did it take: 3 days

In spite of some issues I had with the pacing and revelations of vital information..... I enjoyed this book and read it very quickly. It holds the same love of old Barcelona as the author´s more famous The Shadow of the Wind, it has the same issues of feeling abandoned, experiencing first love and raking through a mysterious past to reveal something extraordinary. Unlike The Shadow of the wind it holds some supernatural elements and would make a good read even for younger readers. Me myself just needed a bit more flesh on the solid bones of the story for the book to be simply excellent.